Beautiful Liars

by Kylie Adams

  “Well, let me go. I have a million things to do to prepare Dean Paul for the care of sweet Cantaloupe. Now as soon as I hang up, I want you to call Sue and fire her. It’ll be the best career decision of your life! Call me soon.”

  Simone briefly considered making the call to Sue but ultimately decided to wait. It would be just like Tilly to never have the talk with Michael, and then where would Simone be?

  She faded in and out of a catnap until the Town Car coasted to a stop outside her apartment building. Indulging in a yawn, Simone thanked the driver, swung out, and strolled into her building.

  “A rooty-poot doorman don’t mean shit to me. If you want my black ass to leave, then you better call motherfuckingS.W.A.T. Because I ain’t leaving until that bitch drags her scrawny little ass through that door.”

  Simone stood there in horror as Luscious Brown read the riot act to Lewis, the normally bored but currently terrified doorman.

  Lewis glanced up with relief at the sight of Simone. “This woman insisted on—”

  Luscious stormed in Simone’s direction. “Oh, this bitch knows exactly what I insisted on.”

  Simone raised a halting hand. “This is not the projects. This is a respectable apartment building with high communitystandards, and if you can’t conduct yourself as something more than a common streetwalker, then I’ll be forced to instructmy doorman to telephone the authorities.”

  “Well, bitch, I might be forced to put my foot up your bony ass!” Luscious shot back.

  Simone stepped sideways to address Lewis.

  Luscious moved right with her. “This ain’t got nothing to do with him. This is between us. Now I’m tired of running you down to have the same conversation, okay? You are workingmy nerves, bitch.”

  Simone’s mobile began to buzz. She glanced down to see that it was Kevon calling and picked up straightaway. “We have a situation here.”

  “I know, baby girl,” Kevon answered thickly. “I’m about to roll up outside your building, so I hope it’s a sexy situation.”

  “Don’t tell me that’s Kevon burning up your cell phone minutes!” Luscious screamed.

  “You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Kevon griped. “Is that Luscious Brown I hear talking shit in the background?”

  Beyond disgusted, Simone slammed the phone shut and stomped outside onto the sidewalk.

  Luscious followed in hot pursuit. “Bitch, don’t walk away from me! I’m talking to you!”

  Several car lengths away, Simone thought she could make out Kevon’s Hummer limousine cruising toward the building.She narrowed her gaze to be sure.

  Suddenly, Luscious was upon her again, this time pulling on Simone’s arm and attempting to shove her down to the concrete. But her efforts were no match for Simone’s Pilates-stronglegs.

  “Get your hands off me!” Simone cried.

  Luscious continued to push, even as two fake nails popped from her fingers and clattered onto the sidewalk.

  Passersby simply walked past the melee with little interest. “Goddamn, Luscious! What the fuck are you doing?” Kevon shouted from his lowered limousine window.

  Luscious stopped pushing Simone the moment Kevon’s first syllable dropped and stalked toward the curb and the idle Hummer. “This ain’t got nothing to do with you! This is betweenme and her!” She air-jabbed a finger in Simone’s generaldirection.

  “No, you got it all wrong,” Kevon shot back. “What I got with her ain’t got nothing to do with you. This woman’s on TV. She ain’t no girl from the block you can go running down. Damn! Now take your crazy ghetto ass back home and stop stirring up shit.”

  Luscious put hand to ample hip and poked out her lower lip. “If you want me home so bad, then give me a ride, hell.”

  “No, you need to sit your big ass on the bus and think about the stupid shit you did,” Kevon snapped.

  Simone watched the scene as if it were a bad movie, one that she would never even watch, much less play a role in.

  As Luscious shuffled down the sidewalk muttering curses, Kevon leaned out of the window and tried to sweet talk her. “I’m sorry about that, baby girl. Come inside for a minute. Let me talk to you. I want to make sure my honey’s all right.”

  Still dazed by the insane situation, Simone found herself sequestered inside Kevon’s Hummer before she fully realized that she did not want to be there.

  “Kevon, I don’t know what we are doing or what we were doing, but I do know that it’s over. Right here. Right now. I’m not putting up with any of this nonsense.”

  “It’s all good, baby girl,” Kevon said soothingly. “It’s all good. I’ve handled things. Nothing like that will ever happen again.”

  “So you do know her,” Simone accused. “She’s not some crazy fan.”

  “Yeah, I know her ... and she’s a crazy fan.” He laughed a little.

  But Simone remained stone-faced. “Any man who wants to see Simone Williams, only sees Simone Williams.”

  “You’re the only woman I’m seeing like that, baby girl,” he assured her. “The Luscious Browns don’t mean a thing.” Kevon reached for an iced-down bottle of Cristal. “Now let’s wet those sweet lips with some champagne.”

  Simone waved away the offer. “Now wait a minute. When I said, only see Simone Williams, that’s precisely what I meant. There is no like that to seeing someone exclusively.”

  Kevon gave her a crazy look. “Do you plan on sucking my dick whenever I want a blow job?”

  Simone lengthened her spine and stared back haughtily. “That’s disgusting. I don’t do that.”

  “Well, you sure are making a lot of demands for a woman who won’t suck dick. Because I’m not giving that up. There are plenty of hos who’ll do it just to say they did. But that’s got nothing to do with you. Or us.”

  Simone had heard quite enough. “Correction—this has nothing to do with me. There is no us. At least not anymore.” She moved fast to slip out of the limousine and onto the sidewalk.

  What she saw first was the wheels of an SUV turning fast to jump the curb and careen in her direction. What she saw last was Tommy Robb behind the wheel ...

  THE IT PARADE

  BY JINX WIATT

  Fill in the Blanks

  Hell hath no fury ... you know the rest, darlings. A certain mature morning chat show doyenne is workingovertime to avoid the swinging ax. Rumors are rampant that number-crunchingexecs are adding up the viewer polls that reveal TV watcherswould rather tune out than in whenever this half-century lady’s on the screen. Ouch! How patient will the suits be? And how many lives does this snarling spinster cat have in the biz? Nine is the magic number.But some say she’s already on number eleven.

  25

  Sutton

  Sutton stared slack-jawed at the front page of the New York Post:

  YANKEE ROBB KILLS BYSTANDER IN JEALOUS ROAD RAGE

  New York Yankees superstar Tommy Robb has left the batter’s cage for a jail cell after a jealousy-fueled road rage incident that left one pedestrian dead.

  Witnesses say Robb was aiming for Simone Williams, a former actress/model and now a televisiontalk show host on The Beehive, when his 2008 Cadillac Escalade struck Queens resident Luscious La Raison Verdeeka Brown on the sidewalk in front of the Upper East Side apartment building where Williams lives.

  Robb and Williams were romantically linked beforebreaking up last NewYear’s Eve.Williams is now reportedly dating hip-hop mogul Kevon Edmonds, who led efforts on the scene to provide emergency assistance for the victim. Brown died hours later at Lenox Hill Hospital. The twenty-three-year-old is survived by one daughter, Princessia Purple Rain Shelton, and two sisters, Precious Quanticia Brown and Delicious Yvette Brown.

  No official charges have been filed against Robb. At press time, the Yankee outfielder was awaiting arraignment. Blood alcohol level and drug test resultsare pending.

  Sutton put down the newspaper and sipped slowly on her coffee as Joey and Olivia quietly did their hair and makeup work. She tapped
a manicured nail on the ghastly headline. “Has anyone seen Simone this morning?”

  Joey spoke up first. “She’s still a little shaken up, but I think she’ll be fine. Simone’s a tough girl.”

  “A lucky girl, too,” Olivia put in. “That could’ve just as easily been her in the hospital morgue.”

  Sutton cleared her throat. “Was Emma in makeup?”

  Joey and Olivia traded meaningful glances.

  “No, I haven’t seen her,” Joey said.

  Sutton watched their reactions but said nothing. To say The Beehive set suffered from tension was the understatement of the year. Was Sutton on her way out? Had Emma quit for good? Who was being considered to fill the possible slots? The questions were piling up. But the answers were far less plentiful.

  “Gorgeous suit,” Joey remarked, carefully brushing a speck of lint from Sutton’s Alpine white shoulder. “St. John?”

  She nodded.

  He caught her gaze through the mirror and smiled. “It becomesyou.Very elegant.”

  “Maybe we should change my hair,” Sutton suggested. “To better match the suit.”

  Joey played with some styles, entertaining the idea of putting it up, wearing it down, pulling it back. “I vote up,” he said finally.

  “Me, too,” Olivia agreed. “You have such a pretty face and such gorgeous skin.You can pull it off. And believe me, not everyone can with the up-do.” She laughed a little.

  Sutton nodded her approval to Joey.

  She was enjoying a whole new approach to life after contemplatinga full bottle of Ambien. There had been the career Waterloo in Jay Lufkin’s office. And shortly after that, the cruel reality of Scooter’s true interest and the losing bet with his buddies that had predicated their first encounter. For a prolonged moment, the pills seemed like the least painful solutionto her disappointments and humiliations.

  But the shrewder aspect of Sutton’s mind ultimately prevailed.She was not going to destroy herself over a loser like Scooter Betts. He was an uneducated barkeep with a metal bar pierced into his cock. Big fucking deal. So what if he made a fool of her? She caught on more quickly than he wanted her to, and she enjoyed some amazing orgasms courtesy of his impressive bedroom prowess. At the end of the day, she could hardly call it a total rip-off.

  And she was not going to roll over and play dead on The Beehive for the White Glove executive pricks, either. Those poll-obsessed assholes had all the ingredients for a great show sitting in their laps, but they were too busy slaving over researchdata to realize it.

  Had they even considered the overall concept for the show when they got a sudden hard-on for Paula Deen and bellied up an offer to her people? For starters, how would that woman’s favorite macaroni and cheese recipe and cornpone family memories play against Finn’s big city gay boy act and Simone’s fashionista persona? Even the dumbest son of a bitch could predict certain disaster for that scenario.

  And it was not until word leaked about Emma’s decision to leave the show that Sutton allowed herself to realize the strengths the young journalist brought to the program. Her appeal to viewers could not be denied.The research was there to prove it. Sutton also had to admit that the girl’s backgroundwas rock solid. She had the double college degree in broadcast journalism and political science, the fast ascent from local news field reporter to anchor.

  The irony was not lost on Sutton. She had been consumedwith irrational hatred for Emma, obsessed with the idea of forcing her out. But now she could see that The Beehive needed her. Emma Ronson was the star. Sutton could admit that now. And the show needed her presence, competence, and universal appeal. Without it, the whole enterprise could implode. For the sake of the bigger picture, Sutton could link arms with a fellow newswoman and get the job done. The situationcould be worse ... say, a reality bimbo of the Elisabeth Hasselbeck variety sitting beside her. Jesus Christ. That would be torture.

  The days of Sutton blaming Emma for Garrison leaving her were over. In hindsight, her animosity had been such a spurned woman cliché. As a general rule, Sutton had such impatience for other women who hated the sluts their husbandsand boyfriends slept with yet somehow found a way to forgive these cheating bastards. And she had succumbed to the same emotional weakness.

  But that was the past. Sutton had clarity now. It had barely arrived in the nick of time. There was much work to be done and many fences to mend in order to set The Beehive on the proper course for continued success. And together, Sutton felt certain that she and Emma could unite into a reckoning force when it was time to do battle against Jay and the White Glove executives for the greater good of the show.

  Enough with the goddamn research and ridiculous cateringto the whims of viewers! They would never build the perfect program that way. Television success was like lightning in a bottle, nearly impossible to manufacture and replicate. There was a reason why Friends soared to phenomenal heights while every cloned sitcom about twentysomething singletons failed fast.

  Sutton had been knocking around the business for more than twenty-five years. She had learned a thing or two during that tenure. Now it was time for her to stop acting like a horse cunt and teach these fuckers what she knew before everything came crashing down around them.

  As Joey and Olivia fluttered around her, Sutton continued to observe their tense posturing and secret glances. She felt certain that something was going on. And it had nothing to do with the general state of unknown plaguing The Beehive set.

  “What is it?” Sutton demanded.

  Joey and Olivia traded wild-eyed looks.

  “The two of you obviously have some piece of news that you don’t want to tell me but can’t wait for me to find out.”

  Joey’s gaze fell onto the New York Post.

  Sutton snatched the tabloid and began whipping through the pages on a mad search for whatever she had missed. And suddenly there it was, with a photograph no less.

  AGING PUBLISHING MAGNATE ECHOES HEFNER IN STEAMY ROMP WITH JAPANESE STARLET TWIN SISTERS

  Self-proclaimed “magalog king” Garrison Friedberg,64, could be a walking testimonial for the ED drug industry. Sources claim he’s scoring with not one but two Japanese starlets. Last night the publishercut a swath through Manhattan’s trendy nightclub scene flanked by reality show phenoms Mio and Mako Kometani, twin sisters who have hit it big stateside with the Oxygen network reality show Deep Inside M&M.

  “They were all over each other,” a source told the Post.“Totally making out. It was disgusting. I couldn’t tell if they needed to get a room or call an ambulance.”

  Friedberg’s spokesperson dismissed the romance rumors, insisting that the publisher’s interaction with the twins is exclusively related to a magalog launch called M&M Forever, which will pull double duty as a lifestyle magazine and catalog for Mio and Mako Kometani products.

  Sutton stopped reading, plopped the tabloid back onto the counter ... and started to laugh. It was real laughter from the gut. Once she started, she could not stop. Her stomach hurt. Her eyes watered. And the physical and emotional releasefelt fantastic. In fact, it was almost—but not quite—betterthan sex with Scooter.

  Joey and Olivia seemed to be waiting for the other Jimmy Choo to drop, as if her laughing attack was due to give way to a crying jag any moment.

  “You can relax,” Sutton managed to say. “I’m not crazy. It’s just so ... ridiculous.”

  “It really is,” Olivia agreed.

  Joey chuckled and shook his head. “What is it with straight guys and twins? I mean, it’s kind of gross, you know?”

  “I’ve known Garrison to do a lot of things,” Sutton venturedquietly, as if sharing some essential bit of inside information.

  Joey and Olivia listened in awe.

  “But I’ve never known him to think with his dick when it comes to business. I think that’s a sign the poor man is losingit. Those imbeciles are already forty-five seconds into their fourteenth minute.”

  Joey tilted his head. “I wonder if they make him li
sten to their CD.You know, like as foreplay or something.”

  Olivia giggled. “Well, if he can still perform after listening to that, then he’s better than any man half his age.”

  Sutton smiled, quite satisfied with herself. Garrison was the laughingstock now. What a glorious turnaround. “Okay, kiddos. Finish me up. I need to have a heart-to-heart with Jay before the show.”

  Joey made some final adjustments to Sutton’s upsweep as Olivia worked fast to touch up her eye makeup. “All done,” they announced in perfect unison.

  Sutton rose up from the chair, smoothed out the skirt of her St. John suit, and gave herself one final once-over. She looked sophisticated. She looked confident. And she looked fifty. But most of all, she looked fucking fabulous.

  Jay was engrossed in a telephone conversation when she slipped inside his office. He nodded, raising a finger to indicatethat he would only be a minute. “Thanks for the call. I’ll pass the word upstairs ... And to you as well.” He replaced the receiver and gave Sutton a meaningful look. “That was the official decline from Paula Deen’s camp.”

  Sutton betrayed no reaction, which was quite easy to do since she felt no sense of real relief. The Beehive was hers to mold, and nobody was going to step in and take her place. God would not allow it. This was her destiny.

  “Welcome back,” Jay said. “You look like a million dollars.”

  “Only a million?”

  “Okay, one point five.”

  “Cheap bastard.”

  Jay smirked.

  Sutton slid into the seat opposite his desk and crossed her legs. “What’s happening with Emma?”

  “You’ll be pleased to know that she quit. It’s not official yet. I’m still hoping that she’ll reconsider.” He splayed open his hands in a helpless gesture. “But she’s not here today.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not pleased at all.”

  Jay’s brow shot up in surprise.