Sunset & Vine: Loose Lips (13 page)

Rocco was floored. He couldn’t believe his ears. He was afraid to interrupt the old lady with any questions. He wanted her to sing until she couldn’t sing anymore.

“It was pretty much the usual in those cases. What I mean is, those poor young things, with all their money, would be left alone by gallivanting husbands, locked away in those great big ol’ mansions with just their servants until they returned. They’d get lonely. They’d spend too much time with the manservant, and you know, those things would just happen.

“In Mrs. Stanford’s case, it was with the chauffeur … it was always the chauffeur or groundskeeper. They’d either keep the child and pass them off as their husband’s or pay a visit to me and I’d handle the situation for them. Something women like me have been handling for hundreds, if not thousands, of years for the rich.

“The only problem this time was Mrs. Stanford’s chauffeur happened to be colored! A fine looking, big strapping man from what I heard. I wasn’t of the type to judge people on color as most whites did in those days. Didn’t believe in it. I’m a Quaker, descended from staunch abolitionists. Couldn’t stand how those poor people were treated. Truth be told, I think we all have a bit of coffee in us.” Stopping for a moment to give herself a little chuckle.

“Well, she told me she didn’t want to see the child because it might make her change her mind about giving it up. I think she was afraid that it might be born colored. Well, it wasn’t. It was white, as white as a white child could be born white. I suspected and later confirmed it was Mr. Stanford’s child, as the servants knew for a fact that there had only been two men with that woman, one white and the other black. That meant Dotty’s father was Clay Stanford II.

“Well, I’m done. I’ve wanted to get that off my conscience for many, many years,” she sighed and exhaled.

For the first time in Rocco’s life, he was speechless. He literally could not mouth one word.

The old lady moved her glare from the fire over to him after a moment of silence and spoke again.

“Lord knows it is a story that would cause an earthquake back in those days. I’d wanted to tell Dotty her whole life, but Rose and Stanley had been so good to her. Loved her from the time I placed her in their arms. I just didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. So, I just kept my mouth shut all these years.”

Rocco could see the small tears beginning to flow down her winkled cheeks, emanating from the blank stare focused on the flickering flames of the warm fire.

He rose from his chair and walked over to her, leaned down and hugged her.

“You did the right thing. There really was nothing else you could have done. I understand now why you had such a connection to Dotty. You have my deepest respect, ma’am. Please know that.” As tough as he was, holding her small little frail body in his arms made him choke up. She had carried the weight of the world on her little frail shoulders. All in the name of helping others.

Aunt Marjorie broke down crying in Rocco’s hug, held onto his arms with her tiny little hands. Something he felt she had wanted to do for decades. To ease the burden of so many secrets, this one in particular. He told her he would make a point of staying in touch with her. She thanked him and bid farewell.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Emerald Ball

The Emerald Ball was a high-profile yearly event that celebrated sustainable development with clean water and air technologies, while helping to reduce humanity’s carbon footprint. It was one of the most sought after invitations of the year, and attendance was closely held to a highly selective guest list of 200 people from around the world. At the top of the guest list was the President and First Lady of the United States of America.

No matter how important you were or thought you were, the Emerald Ball was strictly invitation only.

Every year, this being Hollywood, one would hear the inevitable, “Do you know who I am!” from someone showing up without an invitation. They are shocked to hear the level-headed, stern guest concierge Mrs. Betty Joan Winters reply, “Sir, Miss, we’ve turned away senators, movie stars, and royalty who’ve shown up uninvited. There have not, nor will be, any exceptions. Thank you, please step aside.”

The only exception ever made was five years earlier when an uninvited Russian billionaire arrived who was told he could not enter without an invite. He apologized then asked if he could make an on the spot donation of $200,000 dollars for this great cause. He was instantly put on the guest list from that point forward.

The hosts for the event were Mr. Mrs. Montague and Cosima Stanford. In the beginning it was more Montague indulging Cosima than a sincere interest of his. However, it grew into a spectacular international event that he was extremely proud of. Even he was amused by the intrigue that occurred in a room with such a concentration of global power and fame. The exclusivity created a ferocious battle for the elites attempting to climb the social ladder.

It was an evening filled with high-profile networking with A list movie stars holding court over the global super rich, with the power of leading politicians thrown in for spice.

It marked Cino’s first night out into the Hollywood spotlight with glamorous Victoria Steele, CEO of American International Films. He had made it clear to Victoria that he had zero interest in Hollywood parties. He did, however, relish a certain amount of excitement and exhibitionism at the chance to show off his beautiful, sexy lover on his arm. And she was exhilarated at the thought of women drooling over her smoldering lover.

Victoria was a little anxious at the thought of introducing him to her world for a number of reasons. One, she was rightfully weary of the “she wolves” of Hollywood laying their eyes on him. They were dangerous competition for any woman, but especially for one with arguably the most handsome man in town. Secondly, she struggled to admit it, but she was hesitant to introduce her new fiancé.

The idea of it carried all sorts of connotations.

“I’ll deal with it later.” Thinking aloud to herself.

He wasn’t too keen on going one way or the other. He had had his fair share of jet set parties in the capitals of Europe. He’d attend for her.

“I don’t mind going, it’s just that most of those people are boring,” he replied to Victoria after she pleaded with him to accompany her.

“I’m not interested in climbing the hill in Hollywood, acting, or bed hopping,” he told her.

His reply made her feel even more secure in their relationship.

“He is strangely real,” was how she described him to herself.

“How bizarre it is when I find that there are people in the world who could give a damn about movies, and all the baggage that comes with fame and wealth,” she reminded herself of her shifting perspective of the world.

The party had attendees from as far away as Manhattan, Tokyo, London, Saudi Arabia, Cape town … .

In keeping with the theme of the event, all lighting was provided by solar energy, the unused food donated to food banks.

Champagne flowed like an endless river, and several chefs from top restaurants in Los Angeles and Rome created the dinner.

The Stanford estate was an extraordinary California Mission Style villa designed and built by the famous Californian architect Paul Williams. The forward part of the home wrapped around a gigantic swimming pool with gardens imitating those of ancient Roman villas. The back of the massive living room opened directly to the outside with disappearing walls.

It was January 29th, a few days after a torrential downpour that had left two inches of liquid life for Mother Earth to absorb, and everything in the garden looked lush and inviting. The infamous Wolf Moon appeared on the January 29th, the night of the Emerald Ball. The term is from a Native American legend that speaks of hungry wolf packs howling outside of their villages for thousands of years. It is also known as the “Old Moon.” The “wolves of Hollywood” pay significant homage to both definitions.

Everyone knew that this party would be packed with some of the fiercest wolves in Filmdom, howling to the full moon and dripping in Hollywood glamour. The effects of the “Wolf Moon’s” gravitational pull mixed with the finest Californian and French champagne created an unpredictable evening.

Cino and Victoria drove up the long driveway towards the entrance of the mansion. The long winding drive was lined with Maserati, Cadillacs, Rolls Royce’s, Jaguars, and every other expensive car in the world.

The front of the villa was lit from the ground up, casting it in a movie set style appearance. White vested, white gloved valet attendants, all handsome young men from local universities, lined the entrance to the villa on both sides of the driveway.

“Well, we’re here. Here goes! Let’s have some fun, honey!” She was excited to show her future husband off to the world.

Victoria first extended her long arm out of the car for the valet.

Wearing $250,000 dollars of the purest, deep green emeralds, also known in the ancient world as gems of Venus, Goddess of Love, Victoria Steele rose from the Jaguar wearing a body hugging, 1930’s era shimmering gold satin gown that fit like a painted-on glove. The contrast of the emeralds against the gown, and her breathtaking beauty, made her look like a dream. She made a point of holding her hand up to gather her satin shoulder wrap, exposing her to-die-for engagement ring as the cameras flashed nonstop.

Cino couldn’t keep her eyes off her, which made the drive to the party a challenge. He had told her during their drive up the long driveway, “I want this evening to be over already.”

“It won’t be that bad, my love, I promise,” she answered, while staring at his profile in the light of the car’s interior.

“Its just that … it’s very difficult for me to look at you now, as beautiful as you are, without wanting to devour you on the spot,” he said with a passionate tone of seriousness.

“I love you and I will prove it to you at home when I do your favorite slow dance as my dress falls.” Leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

He valiantly tried to catch her kiss on his lips while almost running the car into the bushes lining the driveway.

They made their way through the crowded grand room. It was packed with every major star of film, TV, and music in what seemed like the world. All of whom were clearly aware of who had just arrived.

Victoria Steele and her new Italian lover, the soon to be husband and father of her babies.

The wave of power wattage rolled through the room as everyone’s eyes slowly and discreetly followed her and Cino. They headed to the open area by the pool, garden, and bar.

The couple, who brought with them a combination of extraordinary looks and style, stepped outside where the pool and cabana unfolded beneath them. They momentarily stopped at the top of the stairs to witness up and coming starlet Summer Lovejoy rising out of the pool with steam floating off of her black strapless wet gown and reaching for a glass of champagne and a towel from a handsome waiter standing nearby. Flashes from the authorized photographers lit up the area like blinding movie premieres.

Summer had taken a dip in the pool up to her neck, making sure her make-up and hair remained in movie-set perfection. She was stunning and clever enough to know that her little dip caught the eye of every producer, director, and billionaire within in eyesight. The women stared with bitchy envy at her daring maneuver. The wet dress had clearly outlined her vivacious body.

“I guess that was enough for them to remember my name.” Giggling to herself while throwing her head back in a dramatic pose for the cameras.

“I can’t wait to tell Gavin. God, I am so thankful for that hunk of a good-hearted man.” Wondering how he had managed the incredible trick of snagging an invite.

She only wished he had been there to see her work her stuff, and be on his arm. Summer had learned not to ask too many questions when he delivered the impossible, discreetly and without seeking any overwhelming response from her.

“This is for you, my love. I want you to be there, it will be an important step in your career,” he had said before dropping her backwards in his arms and planting a deep kiss on her lips.

Gavin had received the invite from a Broadway producer, one of his regular clients. The producer had become quite attached to Gavin over the three years since they’d met. He’d introduced him as his “trainer.” Everyone in L.A. has a trainer, it’s just that most don’t provide the full range of services, as did Gavin.

The producer had to be in New York and offered it to Gavin as a tip along with his usual fee of $5000. Gavin was more than happy to accept and showed his appreciation by giving his client a few extra hours of fun, “for the road, good friend” was all he said as the sound of a zipper made itself known in the silent room.

Gavin’s ability to call upon his persona of cool corporate detachment reflected his disdain for fake moral conventionality. He was true to only one rule, “Be true to thyself and those you love.” He would have been a fantastic actor, no doubt. He’s ability to assume the role of temporary lover to his clients was Oscar worthy.

* * *

One flash was all it took for the wave of attention to swiftly redirect towards Victoria and Cino. The image of the striking pair at the top of the stairs was priceless. The camera flashes took on the life of a solar flare as the pair descended the stairs to the pool and garden.

It was a sight of classic Hollywood glamour at its finest. Two of the most attractive people in this town, backed up with unrivaled movie industry power. Real power, the kind that translated into billions of dollars in movie-making revenue.

Victoria whispered into Cino’s ear, “I’m sorry for this, darling, please don’t be upset. I wasn’t expecting anything like this. I’m sure your handsomeness is partially to blame.”

“Ha, I hardly think so, standing next to you. I’m sure I am invisible to these people. You are more stunning than all of those emeralds around your beautiful neck combined.”

He did his best to deflect all of the attention towards Victoria, but it was useless, it was the sight of the two of them together that fed the frenzy. He slyly smiled at her while attempting to lean over and kiss her, just as the camera flashes took it up another notch. One would have thought that was impossible from the blaring flashes. He knew then and there that he had to watch his every move in public when he was with his lover. Otherwise, the scene would be splashed around the world within minutes.

The two of them gracefully descended the stairs and were met by none other than Cosima and Montague Stanford at the bottom, something the hosts had never done for anyone, except the President and First Lady of the United States.

This was an exception, and the reaction of the press was unbelievable. The quintessential, visually breathtaking Hollywood couple had arrived.

Summer was not amused.

She was, however, clever enough to know and understand her current station in the pecking order of this town. She would observe, learn, and prepare for her day in the future when it would be she who commanded that kind of power.

* * *

Clay III had become friends with two sons of his targeted politicians. He had ensured that they, along with their fathers and mothers, were invited to the event, knowing full well that neither of them would refuse.

He positioned himself where it would be impossible for the group to walk past without seeing him and the famous crowd surrounding him. He waited, and monitored with his peripheral vision the strategic moment to acknowledge his young friends when they neared him.

Clay pretended to nonchalantly turn away from the crowd of famous faces that had engulfed him so as to face his new friends by coincidence.

“Tom, Mike! How are you!” he yelled as he excused himself from the circle and moved towards his two friends.

“Clay! Hey there, buddy! Oh my gosh, man, this is so incredible! Tom Willis, son of Congressman Mark Willis, excitedly replied.

“Please meet my mother and father, Martha Willis and Congressman Mark Willis,” Tom extended.

“Congressman and Mrs. Willis, the pleasure is all mine. I’m very pleased the both of you could make it tonight. As you can see, quite a few of your supporters are here. It is for a great cause and we hope to raise a lot of money and awareness tonight.”

“Thank you, Clay, for the kind invite tonight. It was very generous for you to extend this to my family,” said the congressman as he extended his hand to Clay.

“Mike, this must be your mom and dad, Mrs. Masters and Senator Masters?”

“Yes, Mom, Dad, may I introduce Clay Stanford III?” Mike said as he formally presented his parents to Clay.

“My goodness, Clay, it’s just a delight to be here! Please thank your parents for us,” the pretentious Mrs. Masters said. She couldn’t believe that she was actually there.

“Now this is how a U.S. Senator’s wife should live. I’ve got to make sure my husband doesn’t blow this connection as much as he hates networking,” Mrs. Masters thought to herself as she looked around the room.

“I would love to, but I hope that you will be able to do that yourselves if I can locate them. I told my parents that you would be here tonight,” he replied.

“Thank you, Clay,” Senator Masters replied with a big smile.

“Please help yourselves to some dinner and refreshments. I’ll be right back after I locate mom and dad.” Clay had no intention of running after his parents. He would work on getting the two politicians alone in the library and shower them with praise.