Paparazzi Ch 08

I pulled out in traffic driving the beautiful, shiny blue Ferrari Scaglietti 612. The sounds from the car were intoxicating and I felt so conspicuous feeling the envious stares of all those around me. I couldn't wait to rev it higher and shift from first to second and from second to third to hear more of the melodious melody that the car made to my receptive ears. What a car! What a fabulous car!

Normally, I don't like leather seating, but surprisingly the leather in the Ferrari was supportive, comfortable, and held me in place. And I liked the contrast of the red leather interior against the deep, blue metallic paint exterior. The small, thick steering wheel felt custom made to my hands and fingers and the shifter was a perfect feel and placement to shift, as were the pedals. It was too much to take in at once. There were so many settings and buttons that I wanted to park and read the owners manual. This thing must have cost three hundred thousand dollars.

The traffic on Newbury Street is always bumper to bumper with people walking out and crossing in front of your car without looking, people looking for parking spaces, and people double parking. I took the first right off Newbury Street onto Berkeley Street, drove across Commonwealth Avenue, across Malboro Street, and across Beacon Street taking the Storrow Drive exit west towards Newton.

I couldn't wait to give the car some gas and instantly, I had the big 540 horsepower, Ferrari V12 up past a hundred as I motored past the Kenmore Square exit for Fenway Park and away from Boston. It felt like I was doing 50 miles per hour. Cher kept one white knuckled hand on the passenger door and the other glued to my thigh. My senses were a dizzying whirl of sounds, sights, smells, and feels. I slowed to 80mph, so that we could have a conversation.

We drove along the scenic Charles River with Harvard and MIT on the right and Boston University and Boston College on the left. Past Cambridge, Brighton, Allston, and Wellesley, we arrived in Newton the fastest that I have ever negotiated this familiar route.

"This car is amazing. Do you want to drive it?"

"No, this is your car," she said looking at me.

"My car? What do you mean?"

"This is my gift to you for the pleasure you have given me. You've reinvigorated me. I was feeling down and now I feel alive again, so much so that I want to make another movie."

"Are you serious?" I wondered how much the insurance would be on this in Massachusetts, but then thought who cares? It's a brand freaking new Ferrari.

"Enjoy it," she said patting my thigh.

"I don't know what to say. I feel like I was made for this car. It's beautiful, just like you."

"Only," she said pausing with a troubled look on her face. She gathered her thoughts before continuing. "I don't want to hurt you, Freddie, but—"

"What do you mean?" I held my breath fearing the worse.

"I'm flattered that you are attracted to me and our time together was more than what I hoped for when my friend Madonna, Lou," she said with a smile, "offered me your services. Only, now, I feel that I must let you go to continue your journey with another."

"I thought that we had—"

"I have a friend who I think you would hit it off. I'm old, Freddie. I'm tired. I've been down so many roads with too many men. I thought that this was what I wanted, a younger man, but now I think I'd like to have someone my own age for once." She looked over and smiled. "Now, that I have experienced the pleasure that you gave me, I'm looking forward to returning home and to my career."

"But, Cher—"

She hushed me with a look.

"My friend is younger than me by ten years, but she's been co-dependent in a relationship that has been in a bit of a rut, lately. She confessed to me that she could use a bit of excitement. When I told her about what I was about to do, she told me that if it worked out for me that she may be willing to give it a try." She let go of my thigh. "Only, she is not comfortable going to the Ritz and to the suite. She is a private person." She pointed and motioned me to take the next exit. "She has a house in Chestnut Hill that she uses for whenever she travels to the East Coast."

"Who is she?"

"She's tall. She's quite strikingly beautiful. She has a body to die for. I wish I had her body. She has amazing tits. She comes from a famous family. Both her father and mother were famous movie stars and she has made dozens of movies."

"Okay, now I'm dying to know. Are you going to tell me who she is?"

"I'd rather it be a surprise."

We pulled off the main road and onto Boyston Street, Route 9 the Chestnut Hill, Newton area, which ran the west toward Framingham and beyond. She motioned me to turn off to a side street. Immediately, the homes were lavish multi-million dollar mansions.

We pulled into a private road off the side street, and drove up to a security gate where that housed a buzzer and a camera.

"Lady Haden, you have a guest."

"Cher, is that you?"

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but the squawk box did not realistically rebroadcast the vocal sounds of the originator.

"We were just out for a drive in Freddie's new Ferrari and I was going to call you, but I figured we'd be here faster than I could dial your number."

"Well, come in, come in."

It was then that I thought I recognized her voice by her exuberant injection.

We pulled along the paved path as the gate closed behind us. Cher stepped from the low, tight confines of the car and greeted her friend. Her friend was taller than Cher by a couple inches and appeared very shapely. I still couldn't see her face, as Cher was hugging her with her arm draped around her neck and shoulder. She was dressed in this gorgeous blue long flowing silk ensemble that appeared like it was a pantsuit or lounging pajama type of thing. Whatever it was, it appeared custom made for her body. It flattered her figure and it was beautiful.

Cher broke off her hug.

"Freddie, allow me to present to you, Lady Hayden, better known as Jamie Lee Curtis. Jamie, this is the special guy that I have told you so much about."

I stepped forward and took Jamie's hand.

"I'm thrilled to meet you."

"Oh, I betcha say that to all the over-the-hill celebrity women that you meet."

"No, I only say that to really spectacularly beautiful ones."

"I like this guy, Cher." She stepped back to allow us access to her front door. "Come in, come in."