Jack joined me on the patio. He leaned down and kissed me, straightening out my robe after he noticed that one of my breasts was exposed. "Oh, thanks," I said after he rose again.
"No problem. Wouldn't want you to be humiliated."
"You're so good at talking to women," I retorted.
His phone buzzed and gave it a cursory glance before putting it back in his pocket. "Do you still want to go to that party with Stacy?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I admitted.
"Okay. Well, we're going to have to get moving then. Let's take a quick shower."
"That sounds just fine."
Jack stripped out of his business clothes before we walked into the bathroom, scattering them on the bed with little to no rhyme or reason. When he got to his boxers, he was already rock hard—and I wanted him really fucking bad.
By the time we were inside the shower, he was already inside of me.
***
"See, it's not so bad," Stacy said politely. "I know you hate these dumb things, Jack, but this place is pretty cool."
We were at one of those Beverly Hills mansions, the kind that they shot reality TV shows at. I was pretty confident that I had actually seen this specific place on some show I watched in the past. It felt like I could remember some overly drunk, washed-up star accidentally falling into the gorgeous pool.
That sort of thing just got the ratings, I guess.
"Yes, it's not that bad," Jack said sheepishly. "You're right, okay? Let it go."
Stacy gave him a smile that ought to have been on the cover of a magazine. "Did you guys try that dip over there? It's like jalapeno-cheddar or something. Really good."
Jack and I both shook our heads and eyed the table that she was referring to. "I want another drink, actually," I said.
"Me too." Stacy smiled and motioned for me to follow her. Right as she did that, some guy tapped Jack on the shoulder and started talking excitedly. He was probably someone I should have recognized, but I wasn't going to get too caught up in it. I hated to leave him stranded like that, but then again, my Hollywood hero was pulling me toward more alcohol.
The best sort of distraction.
She grabbed us a couple more glasses of champagne and toasted me after I had a matching glass in my hand. "How do you like this stuff?" she asked, her question vague and nebulous.
"The wine?" I asked, staring back at her. As usual, she looked incredible, beyond beautiful, if that was a real thing. I still found it almost impossible to believe that Jack thought I was prettier than her.
But that's what he said...
"No, no. This. Hollywood. California. Whatever. It's got to be a little weird for you."
"I suppose it is," I said. "I'm glad to be experiencing it."
"Oh shit, there's George Clooney," Stacy said, pointing over toward the corner. It was, in fact, George Clooney. "He's really nice."
"Whoa. No kidding." He looked incredible in person.
"Do you want to meet him? C'mon." She took my arm and pulled.
"No, no, no," I contested. "I can't meet him." I suddenly got really self-conscious after realizing that fighting her would only draw more attention to little old me. So I went.
"George!" she said boisterously, cutting off the conversation that he was already engaged in. "How are you?"
"Oh, Stacy! What a pleasure!" They hugged, the whole moment a bit overwhelming for me.
"George, I want you to meet my sister, Effie. She's visiting this weekend."
"I didn't know you had a sister. Hi, Effie," he said, taking my hand and kissing it.
"Hi, G-g-george," I said, stumbling at first. "I really like your movies. You were a great Batman for sure. Better than Christian Bale."
He started laughing and it immediately put me at ease. "Well, thanks. You don't have to say that. You're the first person that ever enjoyed Batman and Robin, I swear."
I started giggling as well, realizing that his observation was probably right since most people considered the movie a bomb.
Stacy talked to him for a few minutes about some movie project they were both working on, so I just let them do their thing. I noticed Tim Robbins in the crowd as well, but I wasn't about to approach him by myself.
What was this party for, anyway?
I felt someone grab my arm and then a hand crawled along my shoulder. "Hey, beautiful." It was Jack. "Oh, hi, George," he said casually after noticing who Stacy and I were talking to. What the fuck?