by Doug Cooper
“Love is just a simple thing that you can’t buy. You can’t get it wholesale, darlin’, why try?”
Levi crawls over top of her on all fours, careful not to touch her anywhere. She wiggles her body side-to-side yearning for contact. He shakes his head. “Not yet. You’re going to have to wait.” He rolls over off the bed.
“Tips, schmips, angle, schmangle. Play around and get entangled. What have you got, if you haven’t got love?”
She kicks and pulls trying to grab at him. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me here. Not like this.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He walks over to the vivarium and opens the door. “I think Hannah wants to join us.” He reaches his right arm inside. Hannah slithers toward him and climbs up his arm, over his shoulders, and down his left side. “That’s a good baby. Such a pretty girl.” He strokes his hand along her dorsal scales. “I have someone I want you to meet.” He crawls up on the bed. “Hannah, this is Mara. She wants to play with us.”
Mara squirms away as far as she can go. “Levi, are you sure about this? Have you ever done this?”
He guides Hannah onto the bed. “I let her out all the time. She loves coming up on the bed with me.” Hannah crawls along the side of Mara toward her head.
“No, I mean during sex.” She tugs at the ropes trying to move away. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Do snakes get jealous? What if she sees me as a threat?”
Hannah’s tongue flits in and out as she approaches Mara’s arm. Levi says, “Nothing to worry about. She’s a total lover. Just don’t act afraid. It might spook her.” He climbs on top of Mara, kissing her, rubbing his hands along her arms up to her hands. “Forget she’s even here.” Hannah crawls over their arms and circles around their heads. “Just close your eyes.” He reaches down and pushes inside her. “Just remember, ‘pelican,’ if it’s too much.”
Mara whimpers, her body shuddering, then tensing. She responds with a passionate kiss. “Deeper. I want to feel all of you.” She thrusts her hips off the bed into him.
Hannah curls around their heads and glides over Levi’s right shoulder onto his back and down his body. He arches his back, bracing himself up with his arms. Mara’s eyes remain closed. Levi groans in pleasure as Hannah slithers across his ass onto the bed between his legs. He drives his hips harder, faster.
A restrained yelp escapes from Mara. She bites her lip and growls. “Oh God. I want to scream, but I’m afraid. Where is she? What is she doing?”
Levi looks over his shoulder down his back. “She’s between our legs by your right foot. Wait for it. She’s almost there.” Hannah crawls across Mara’s ankle and up along her leg. “Feel her?” Hannah continues along Mara’s body rubbing against the tattoo up to her armpit.” Levi slams into Mara harder. She cries out. “I can’t hold it.” Mara opens her eyes and sees Hannah only inches away. “Stop! I can’t take it anymore. Pelican! Pelican! Stop!”
Levi doesn’t stop. He follows through with three more long, deep strokes, his body tensing, tightening, holding, then relaxing. He crumbles in a heap on top of her, both of them gasping and writhing. Hannah stays pressed tightly against them. Levi laughs. “Best threesome ever. I think she likes you.”
“That was so amazing. I can’t believe we did that. Get up. Untie me. I need to move around. I can’t lie here anymore.”
Levi rolls off Mara away from Hannah, who takes it as an invitation to replace him and crawls across Mara’s chest. He says, “Yep. She definitely likes you.”
Mara pulls at the ropes. “Just hurry up and untie me.”
Levi scoops up Hannah and carries her back to the vivar-ium. “Was that fun, baby? You like that huh?” He lowers her inside. She immediately crawls to the small pond. Levi goes back to the bed. “Hannah’s got the right idea. Let’s go for a swim.” He unties Mara’s right arm then moves down to her right ankle.
Mara uses her free hand to undo the rope from her left wrist. “That sounds perfect. My whole body’s tingling.” She frees her left ankle and slides off the bed, shaking her arms and legs.
Levi walks over and kisses her. “You know what they say, once you go snake, the rest is all fake.”
Chapter 16
Marcus drives north on the PCH toward Malibu. His phone buzzes on the seat next to him. He picks it up and swipes his thumb across the screen to read the new alert. Another ocean-view picture at Nobu Malibu pops up from Emily James’s social media account. The alerts had been coming for the past hour, prompting him to drive there for an unofficial visit without her agent or lawyer present. Based on the stream of photos and videos, she and two girlfriends are enjoying a late breakfast on the deck. He hadn’t seen any pictures of the food yet, which are always part of the ritual that seems to happen at least once a day since he has started following her account. If it wasn’t her posting, it was one of her friends or a fan tagging her in a picture. Marcus pretty much knew exactly what Emily was doing and where from morning to night. Today, no food yet means he still has time to catch her.
At the restaurant, Marcus avoids the valet lane and parks in a spot far from the front just in case he needs to leave in a hurry. As he walks through the parking lot, he reaches in his pocket and cups his hand around his badge to have it ready if he needs to get by a staunch maître d’ or manager. He’s dealt with them before. They’ll do anything to protect their celebrity business. They know if the celebs come, the tourist dollars will follow.
Marcus breathes a sigh of relief, seeing a young girl alone at the hostess stand. He flashes the badge and breezes by, not even letting her ask whether he has a reservation. He slides the badge back in his pocket and pulls up the last picture from Emily on his phone, an open-air shot on the deck. He weaves through the restaurant, matching the picture on his phone to the view into front of him to locate the table. The retractable doors surrounding the bar are open on this temperate sun-soaked morning. He angles to the patio and spots Emily and her friends in the left corner.
A mother and teenage daughter crouch behind the cushioned wicker loveseat Emily is sitting on. Emily holds up a phone and snaps a selfie of the three of them and hands it to the mother, who shows it to the daughter as they bounce back to their table. Emily’s friends sit on a similar two-person couch across from her. A waiter places the last dish from his tray onto the two teak square tables pushed together between them. Her friends, one with a black, braided ponytail swept around to the front, and the other with a side down-do with long, wispy auburn curls snap pictures of the colored assortment of fresh fish on the table.
Marcus walks to the table. The girls look up at him. Wispy Curls rolls her eyes at Emily. “Another one? Seriously, Em, you have to really think about getting security.”
Emily, chopsticks balanced between her fingers, points at Marcus. “Let me guess. For your daughter? No, you’re not married. Must be your niece.” She holds out her other hand, not even listening for the response. “Just let me know who to make it out to.” She looks back at her friends. “Last one, girls. I promise.”
Braided Ponytail says, “A star’s work is never done. I don’t know how you live like this.”
Marcus pulls his badge out, extending it toward Emily’s lingering hand. “I’ve got a tip for you: Don’t post to social media every two minutes and you might have some privacy.”
Seeing the badge, Emily recoils her arm and focuses back on the food. “How can I help you, detective?” She snares a piece of salmon and pops it into her mouth.
“I’m not with the police,” Marcus says, watching the other girls squirm while Emily remains calm and resolute. “I’m with the attorney’s office. Sex Crimes Division.”
“God, please tell me you caught that perv who sent me the jar of his pubic hair,” Emily says.
Wispy Curls drops the piece of fatty tuna she was about to eat back on her plate and feigns gagging. “Please, Em, tell me you’re joking.”
Emily shakes her head. “A whole mayonnaise jar full.”
“Ew, he really used a mayonnaise jar?” Braided Ponytail says. “Hopefully there wasn’t any of his mayo in there.” All three girls break out laughing.
Wispy Curls says, “What an idiot. Couldn’t they just look him up based on his DNA?”
“Actually, no,” Emily says, completely forgetting about Marcus and rambling on. “The police said that there wasn’t a match in the computer. If they catch him, they could use it to prove it was him once they have a sample of his DNA, but until someone is in the system, there’s nothing they can match it to.”
The waiter comes to the table and stands next to Marcus, reminding the girls that Marcus is even there. The waiter says, “How is everything? Anything else I can get for you?”
“Sooo good,” Emily says. She looks to her friends. “Ladies?”
Wispy Curls drains the rest of her drink. “I’d love another one of these acai punches.”
“Coconut water for me,” Braided Ponytail says and plucks a piece of unagi from a plate.
The waiter acknowledges the requests and departs. Emily slurps miso soup directly from the bowl. Marcus uses the temporary engagement of her lips to finally use his own. “The real reason I’m here is about the pictures that have surfaced of you with Levi Combs.” Emily slurps louder from the bowl. Marcus elevates his tone. “The district attorney is contemplating pressing charges against Mr. Combs for his predatory actions. We’re wondering if you will be part of our case.”
The previous incessant activity at the table ceases. The other girls stare at Emily waiting for a response. The sudden awkward moment does not affect Emily. She remains placid, slowly lowering the bowl to the table. She picks up the white linen napkin and pats the residual broth from her upper lip. Finally looking at Marcus for the first time since he walked up, she says, “I’m sorry. What was your name again? You don’t happen to have a card, do you? I’m sure you understand. I get approached by a lot of people.”
“Of course.” Marcus pops two fingers in his breast pocket and pulls one out, offering it to Emily. “Feel free to look me up online.”
Emily glances at the card and passes it over to Wispy Curls. “Check him out for me, will ya?” Wispy Curls sets the card on the table and picks up her phone, reading the text while furiously typing with her thumbs. Emily sinks back into the cushions, peering up at Marcus. “Since I doubt you just happen to be here at Nobu having brunch, I’m going to assume you did some homework to know I was here.”
Wispy Curls holds up her phone toward Marcus. Braided Ponytail leans over, and they both examine the screen and Marcus. Wispy Curls says, “It’s him.” She lowers her voice and speaks in a slow, serious tone. “Deputy District Attorney Marcus Ambrose.” The girls giggle, pausing to exchange looks of feigned fear. Each impression elicits greater amusement, which causes a more histrionic expression than the one before, eventually resulting in rolling laughter from all three.
Marcus rubs his head from forward to back, realizing he made a mistake. While Emily has years of more work experience than him, around her girlfriends, she regresses back to the adolescent she is. Marcus elevates his voice to be heard over the laughter, which is finally waning. “I’m sorry for interrupting your meal. You have my card if you think of anything that might be useful to our investigation.”
Emily sits up and slides to the edge of the loveseat, leaning toward Marcus. The teenage girl who was here just seconds ago disappears as quickly as she had come. The flintiness of her face follows down to the rest of her body. Her girlfriends recognize the change in her and fall back into their seat. Emily says, “As I was saying, if you researched to know I was here, then you also know that I have nothing more to say about those pictures that hasn’t already been said. Levi and I were out hiking and went for a swim.” Her steely stare holds everyone in place. Even the waiter, who was approaching the table for another check-in, stops a safe distance away. Emily says, “I will keep your card though and be sure to pass it along to my lawyer. I’m sure she’ll reach out to your boss. They do belong to the same country club. She can inquire why one of his deputies was out at Nobu in Malibu in the middle of the morning asking a teenage girl for a statement on a matter that is not even an open investigation.” She turns back to her girlfriends, instantly changing back to the rollicking girl of moments ago. Her friends follow her lead and resume their roles in the farce. The waiter continues his course to the table.
Marcus steps away and slinks back through the dining room. As good as he felt after his visit to Eva’s office, he knows he bombed this one. He leaves the restaurant and shuffles through the parking lot to his car. He expected it to be easier because she was young, that she would be intimidated by his position. But she was stoic and controlled during the exchange and not affected at all. Regardless, he had just learned directly why Emily James is a star and what so many people who have worked with her in the past have discovered: the feeling of being upstaged.
◆◆◆
A black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows slows, approaching the Million Dollar Theater on Broadway. The flashing and glowing marquis protrudes from the Spanish Colonial Revival façade. The bursts of Churrigueresque decoration, statues, and longhorn skulls loom above from the historic twelve-story movie theater built in 1918.
Black lettering on the marquis spells out Wrongside Right Starring Levi Combs in two lines against the backlit display. Levi slides over in the seat, looking at the sparse crowd milling around on the sidewalk. He had longed to have a premiere here because of its history. It was one of the first movie palaces in the country and the northernmost in this Broadway Theater District. He became obsessed with this area when he first moved to LA. The theater had once been the second run of the vaudeville Orpheum Circuit, a stage for acts like the Nat King Cole Trio and The Honey Drippers, and the mecca for Spanish language entertainment during another run. One of his earliest photo shoots was at the Bradbury Building, the oldest landmarked building in LA, across the street. It was a dystopian cologne ad, which really didn’t make any sense at all to him. He thought if things got as bad as they were portrayed in the ad, no one would care how they smelled. Levi spots Eva fidgeting with her phone, talking to a reporter in front of the theater. A photographer stands close by repeatedly looking at his watch. Spectators sprinkle the barricade, not even two-deep at any point.
The driver angles the car toward the curb. Levi leans toward the front. “Don’t stop. Let’s go around the block and allow more people to arrive.” The driver accelerates back into traffic, driving up Broadway. Levi just stares out the window. Coming back to where he started was supposed to show how far he had come. Instead he is looking like all the other fading lights that had passed through here trying to reclaim their former brilliance. The driver turns on Sixth and loops back up Main to Third passing by the Bradbury again. Levi bends toward the front seat, looking through the windshield at the crowd in front of the theater, which appears to have diminished even more in the ten minutes it took them to circle the block.
The driver slows at the intersection. “Want me to keep going or stop?”
Levi flops back in the seat. “Fuck it. Just drop me off.”
The driver flips on the turn signal and guides the car to the curb. Eva takes notice of the vehicle, recognizing it from the first time around since she had arranged it. Levi pushes the door open and exits onto the red carpet amidst a few cheers drowned out by boos.
Eva approaches, speaking through a pained smile. “Nice to see you could make it.”
“Where is everyone?” Levi asks, looking around and waving to the imaginary legion of fans expected to assemble but who never showed.
Eva takes his arm and leads him toward a reporter waiting by the box office window underneath the marquis. “A lot of cancellations and even more no-shows. But you would know that if you had returned my calls.”
/> “Why, so you could nag me about the other shit? No thanks.”
“I don’t need to say anything. Look at the results of your work over the past few weeks.” Eva steps to the side, opening her hand toward the reporter. “Go ahead. Your public, all one of them, awaits.”
Levi walks up to the reporter, who nods at the cameraman. Bright light washes over her and Levi. The reporter says, “I’m downtown at the famous Million Dollar Theater with Levi Combs for the opening of his new movie Wrongside Right. Levi, what do you think about the turnout?”
Levi scans the surrounding area. “I think someone printed the wrong date on the invitation.”
The reporter smiles at the attempted humor. “You’re one of the producers and main financial backers on this film. Are you at all worried about your investment?”
Levi says, “I think over time the quality of the work will speak for itself and the financial return will come.”
“That will require people to see it,” the reporter jabs.
Levi glares at her but recovers, nodding and grinning in her direction. He knows he can’t afford another confrontation. “Let’s wait until the weekend is over to discuss the numbers.”
The reporter asks, “Do you think your recent actions are the cause of the poor showing? I mean you did just win an Oscar. That alone should fill the seats.”
Levi narrows his stare, growing impatient with the probing questions. “Is there anything you want to ask about the film? I mean, that is why we’re here.”
“Is it true you were behind the attack on the photographer who released the pictures of you and Emily James?”
Levi feigns surprise. “No idea what you’re talking about. But I just want to say that I think people will really enjoy the positive message in this film. Thanks for coming. I think we’re getting ready to start.” He moves toward one of the other actors in the film laughing and chatting with another reporter by the door.
