This story is part of a continuation of my
Road Trip
series (see the end of 'Road Trip -- California' for a list of the chapters of that series, in order to be read). You need not read that series to enjoy this one. Although real places and celebrity names are used for realism, this story is fiction. Please 'read, enjoy, vote, and comment.'
Synopsis of This Story So Far
: After a cross-country road trip laced with grief, love, incest, and sex, Jim now lives with Crystal Lee and her sister Ellen in Nashville. Jim and Crystal are top country music stars. Crystal posed for Playboy in a sex-filled weekend photo shoot. After a busy six months, an incestuous New Years orgy on a Caribbean isle, and busy winter months, Crystal and Jim separate to different parts of the world to make two different movies. Crystal and Jim's new housekeeper Nadia proves to be a sexually charged vixen with lots of ideas for pleasure; so, Jim and Nadia devastated Ellen one night.
Crystal Clear -- Ch. 05
LA, more playmates, and reports from Europe
Crystal's laughter was contagious, even over the telephone; "Ellen told me you two destroyed her, and you should know she's more in love with you now -- times ten -- that she was before you and Nadia did your night of debauchery with her. I wish I'd been there!"
I chuckled, "Well, Nadia was full of surprises, I must admit; the girl in insatiable -- even I had trouble keeping her sexual happy. As for Ellen's feelings, I am trying not to either encourage or discourage her. I do love her, and I love you too." I thought for a minute, "Hey, how was your dinner with George Rinard night before last?"
Crystal laughed again, "Why, I got laid, re-laid, and parlayed -- and that first night, I wiped him out. He's a considerate lover, and he met all expectations, but he tires easily; he wasn't a challenge in that regard. We've been seeing each other every evening, so you might be prepared to field a question or two if one of the paparazzi corners you. We have been spotted as part of the Parisian nightlife. The movie marketeers love that we've been spotted. It'll help create a 'buzz' about the movie."
"I'll just say 'we're not exclusive' or something to that effect. Is that all right with you?"
"Yes, that's about all I can think of. Getting into defining our boundaryless 'open relationship' would only create a quagmire of further questions you'd never get out of. I'll use the same line. And, just know, you
are
my most special person in the world by ... times infinity. I love you, and I thank you for letting me sample others, and I thank you for taking care of Ellen -- so carefully too."
"Just my cowboy ways, ma'am," I said, faking a western accent. Crystal knew that for much of my life the furthest west I got was Natick, Massachusetts.
"Gotta run, darling," Crystal suddenly said. "My studly dinner date is here. Go fuck my sister and our housekeeper. I love you."
"I love you Crystal," I pledged.
We ended our call. I wondered how many other people in the world had similar calls -- sharing sexual details, and encouraging extra-relationship liaisons, even with one's sister and housekeeper. Although I found internal conflicts here and there, I relished the situation.
I spent my last afternoon in Nashville singing up a storm in our home studio. Ellen had learned how to work the music boards, and she sat behind a glass window manipulating the various controls for the music I heard as well as the voice I produced.
Ellen's voice came over the PA in the room; "I recorded that one. Shall I play it back for you? It sounded really good."
I nodded, and the sound of my voice with a full country band resonated from the various speakers in the room. I had to admit; the song did sound good. When it was over I said, "Why don't you send that one to Terry? See whether he thinks it's good enough to take to the next level?"
She nodded, and I could see her turn to the computer beside the soundboard. I thumbed through some more sheet music I was supposed to know, and as the afternoon rolled by, we did a few more songs and sent the demos to my agent so he could confer with Sony about them.
About six o'clock, Ellen walked into the studio. She gave me a hug and a kiss. "Honey, we have to pack tonight. Our flight to the coast leaves pretty early -- seven-thirty in the morning. We have to leave here at a quarter-to-six a.m." Part of Ellen's work included keeping me on schedule for all the arrangements she made, often consulting with Terry.
I groaned at the thought of the early hour. "OK. I'll miss this place for the months we're gone." I looked around the studio as I stuffed the sheet music into a rough-out leather briefcase Terry had given me to enhance my western cowboy image. I slipped my iPad and few other things into the case as well.
Ellen smiled, "I asked Nadia to make an early dinner for us, plus she'll be up to drive us to the airport and see us off in the morning. If you want, she'll spend the night with us." She smiled, and I could tell by her look that she wanted our new friend and consort to be with us.
I smiled inwardly at the thought and recalled the first night I'd gotten Ellen, Nadia, and me together for a sexual romp. Nadia and I had wasted Ellen over a three-hour evening.
"Yes, I want." I affirmed my desire to have both women with me overnight. Ellen broke into a happy grin, and skipped off to the kitchen. I knew my decision would also make Nadia happy; she liked to be with us, although she pretended she could be entirely neutral about whether we wanted her or not. We always wanted the pretty and petite Russian girl.
The three of us had dinner, did a communal clean up, and then played in the shower and in bed before we all fell asleep, happy and sexually sated. The following morning Nadia saw us off. She would be alone in the big house for the first time. Crystal had helped her arrange to take college courses nearby, and Nadia did have aspirations to be more than a housekeeper, so I thought this might work out. She wanted to work in the background in the entertainment industry in some way after college.
Nadia drove us to the airport in my new Prius, a car that would be primarily hers to run errands in. On the plane Ellen and I slept most of the way across country to LAX, holding hands in the first two seats. I'd opted to fly commercial first class instead of a private jet, so we'd hung out in the VIP room until seconds before they closed the door on the flight. Although I know we got recognized by a few of the other passengers, no one paid us any mind other than to nod a friendly hello.
We were the first off the plane in Los Angeles, and thanks to an efficient airport security staff, we were whisked through some back corridors to a limo waiting at curbside for us. Our luggage would follow. We'd left Nashville a little after seven-thirty a.m. and were in L.A. about ten-thirty a.m. LA time.
I sent Crystal an email from the limo to tell her we'd arrived, and that I was now officially in the movie business. She'd already been filming for a month.
The limo took us to Sony Pictures headquarters in Culver City, dropping us right at the door of the Gable Building, part of the main offices named after Clark Gable. Ellen adopted her most efficient 'aide de camp' posture, and followed me demurely to the conference room where another aide produced coffee and a snack lunch for us, acknowledging that we would be jet lagged for a couple of days.
Terry Ross, my agent (and Crystal's agent), hustled into the room followed by eight other people. Half of them were from Sony, one I recognized from photos as my stunt double Jason Lake, another my co-star Barry Peters, and then there was Jill Danes -- the young, beautiful, desirable, and talented Jill Danes. Jill introduced a young woman with a glowing mane of red hair as her aide with acting aspirations; a young woman close to Ellen's age named Claire. Claire dressed chic and in a manner that commanded notice.
Introductions were made, and then the man I learned was our executive producer, Lloyd Hoffsteder explained his vision and goals for the picture: words that boiled down to a blockbuster, exciting, multi-national, sexy, daring, and explosive movie that would make about three-hundred million dollars in the first two weeks after release. Dream on! Lloyd acknowledged that my name, Barry Peters, and Jill's on the marquee ensured a high interest in the film by the general public, even before release. He introduced Mark Ang, the director -- and no relation to the famous Ang of movie fame, but he was doing his best to coast on those coattails. I liked him immediately, and knew we'd have fun working together. Jill apparently knew him as well. The atmosphere was cordial, and we were all eager to get started.
We all went around the table, and I went last, apologizing for my lack of theatre and acting experience. Everyone dismissed my lack of skill in their industry, and Terry gave me a wink that suggested something was 'up.'
After the kickoff meeting, two noteworthy things happened. First, Terry pulled me aside, and informed me that he'd arranged intense acting lessons for me for the next month for four hours each morning. "It'll just give you more confidence. The coach is one of the best and he's done other fresh start celebrities too, the most famous being Cameron Diaz. You start tomorrow; here's the address; be there at eight sharp. You have to be here in this room at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow to start a script review." Terry walked away leaving me with a scrap of paper with an address and name on it; Ellen, who'd been standing next to me, plucked the paper out of my hands so she could takeover managing this part of my life.