"Yes, yes," the woman said, "this is really good. I'll even ask you for more". Audrey resisted opening her mouth in surprise. She was sitting on a comfortable leather chair in the quaint office of Gabrielle West, a popular literary agent for publisher localized within Beverly Hills, California. Audrey had finished her first novel, completed during a trip to Las Vegas with her boyfriend, a romantic story set in Old Las Vegas and her new agent ate it up like a good meal. She sat on a large chair behind a mahogany desk, a well-dressed, executive-looking woman with her hair made up in a French twist and crimson lipstick. She put down the manuscript over the table and smiled. She uncrossed her legs a la Sharon Stone.
"Miss Rose, this is a splendid novel and it doesn't even seem like it's your first," Gabrielle said to her, " how did you manage to do it?"
"I was inspired," Audrey Rose replied, "and I've read a plethora of romantic novels in my thirty years. Do you really think it's good?"
"Oh, my dear, it's just what we're looking for at the moment. You're novel is passionate, steamy but at the same time romantic. I'll never see Las Vegas the same way again. You made it into a colorful den of shady characters: Mafia lords, Mafia wives, Hollywood stars, gamblers, adventurers. And the romance between the film actress and the bad boy gambler is wonderfully done."
"How long should I wait before I can write my next novel?"
"I'm tempted to say at once, my dear," Gabrielle suddenly took out a cigar, as if she had just enjoyed an orgasm and wanted to smoke, " but really, I don't like to put pressure on my clients. You're a terrific writer, obviously very talented but I will respect your working at your own pace. Just as long as you don't take too long. At most a year."
Audrey could not believe it. It was like a dream. She was finally, finally being published! Her book would grace the shelves of the romantic section in bookstores across the country! She brushed her hair to one side when a strand fell over her forehead and smiled gratefully at Gabrielle West, who rose from her seat, ready to announce something evidently important, the way a lawyer does during trial.
"Now about payment, royalties, a book tour and all that good stuff"...........
Beverly Hills was beautiful. As Audrey walked out of the three-story office building and onto the street toward her car, her eyes feasted on the opulence of the vicinity. In sight was Rodeo Drive, with its chain of pretty shops, one after the other like beads in a necklace: Chanel, Dior,, Victoria's Secret. And the women going to these stores were fashionably dressed themselves, and possessed a leisurely, contented look. They were beautiful women, thin women in dark sunglasses that were oversized. Some wore large sun hats made of light yellow straw material. Some were sandals and simple but chic outfits.
This was Beverly Hills and these were the paragon of California cool. Audrey wondered if she'd run into Paris Hilton, Angelina Jollie or other celebrities. Audrey had never been in Beverly Hills before. She'd only heard about it, seen it in magazines and films like "Pretty Woman". Before it had only been a lot like a teaser, now she'd seen the whole thing.
Audrey felt she was not looking shabby in the least. She had bought a little black dress inspired by Audrey Hepburn, that timeless fashion icon, that cute outfit from the opening scene in "Breakfast at Tiffany's", except hers was considerably shorter and showcased her smooth, white stockinged legs. On her head was a black-and-white hat, an accessory she felt necessary owing to the heat and intense sunlight. Her eyes, too, were shielded in sunglasses.
As she turned a corner, she caught sight of a strangely familiar face. Audrey had found her silver Audi but now she was motionless as she stared at the young lady approaching her in the street. She was striking and garbed in white, her dress oddly business-like but at the same time elegant and leisurely. When Audrey finally took notice of the distinctive features of her face, and the strands of red hair in a sensible ponytail, she knew just who it was.
They embraced and kissed one another on the cheek.
"Audrey Rose, since when do you walk by Rodeo Drive at one in the afternoon?" the woman said, with a jovial air and carefree laugh.
"It's good to see you Michaela," Audrey replied.
"Whatever are you doing here?"
"Well, I've just come from my publishers. They are printing my new novel in a month's time. I'm taking care of that business part of it here."
"You must be kidding. You're writing novels? I would have never believed it. But come, let's go to a cafe and catch up."................
* * * *
"Then I'm going on a book tour: Seattle, Boston, San Francisco, New York, Chicago, Miami, Washington D.C," Audrey said to her as she sipped her cappucino.
It was still very hot outside but the cafe was pleasant and they sat outside on a white linen table with a view of the street. All the while, Michaela looked as if she'd die of envy right there and then.
"Really, Audrey, this is a surprise. I didn't think you had it in you," she said, in a way that although appeared half-insulting, made it appear casual and somewhat innocent.
Audrey did not know what to make of it. Was she implying something? How petty could she be? She had always been like this. High school was hell for everyone - except for Michaela, the daughter of a wealthy family who were in film production. By the age of fourteen, Michaela had traveled almost everywhere in the world.
"And what are you doing now, Michaela?" Audrey inquired, biting on a small croissant.
"I'm in television and film, of course," replied she, with a triumphant smile, "it's really a lot of work. My agent is always finding spots for me in soap operas and movies. I have to take frequent flights across the world for some of them. And that always makes me feel like I live nowhere in particular."
"But you live in Beverly Hills. You can't get any lovelier residence than that. Listen, Michaela. It's been lovely chatting but I really should get home. My boyfriend is there and we need to do some work around the new place we just moved into."
"Oh, you have a boyfriend....and you live with him. Where exactly?"
"Redondo Beach, a small beach city not far from LAX."
