Frances

I was curious. Definitely curious. Who was James Marshall? Julian has had the most peculiar reaction to this man's arrival, and I wanted, no, needed, to know why.

You see, one of the things that makes my relationship with Julian work so well, is that in spite of all his supposed impulsive ways, Julian McCarty is actually a man of habits and very predictable.

Anyone who knows his personal history knows the man craves love and stability. Yes, he's been going about it mostly the wrong way his entire life, trying to get approval from a mother who didn't care, then through fans with his work, marrying the first woman who told him she loved him which naturally ended in a fiasco, and then of course the Belinda debacle! And let's not forget the hundreds, - yes hundreds-, of women he slept with ever since, to reassure himself that even if can't be loved for who he truly is, then being constantly desired on a plain sexual level is the next best thing...

See, I really know Julian, and as sure as I am a real red head, - you can even check down below...-, the man has never been truly, unconditionally, completely, loved, - well except by his sister and Madeline -, and has never truly loved any woman either except the two previously mentioned.

I know. Where does it leave me?

The closest to being loved by him. I know his limitations, and that's the reason I accept his flaws and his tendency to get excited and stirred by a new woman every now and then only to deflect once he sleeps with her. He needs reassurance. Then he comes back to me. Home. To my safe arms. I'm the only woman he can sleep with who won't ask anything in return. He feels safe with me. This kind of security has a price. Until this week, it wasn't too steep.

This week, I can feel that I'm close of losing him for good, and I, Frances Palmers, do not lose men, especially not to skanks who are just good at opening their legs and know nothing about how hard it is to find someone who will accept you in spite of all your flaws. Even harder, once you're over 40.

He might not love me completely, but he accepts me, and simply put, I'm not going to let some bitch walk in and take what's mine.

I believe Julian simply doesn't know how to love. He isn't equipped. I blame his mother, but I should send the woman a thank you card, really. Well, that's another story. Right now, I want to know who James Marshall is, because my gut is telling this man has something to do with the woman responsible for my impromptu return to LA, and I want to know who she is.

She must be something to have Julian break up with me within 24 hours of meeting her. Usually it takes about 4 days of him meeting and banging the pussy of the week, before he calls to tell me we're over. 24 hours is a record. That girl did a number on him and I need to size up what I'm dealing with. 

I am Frances Palmers, I don't kid around when I feel threatened, and right now, I do.

So, I honk until Mr Marshall stops his car and gets out.

As I walk over to him, I put my signature smile on. Somehow, I will convince this man to give me what I want.

((~~!~~))

James

Frances Palmers. Gotta say, it didn't take long.

Her stupefied look at the house is what gave her away. When I saw how she was looking at Julian as he was directing me to his office, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I met Ms Palmers again.

And here she was, swaying her hips, her famous smile on...so transparent.

Why is it this type of women always assumes men think with their little head, and a smile and a flip of their hair will suffice to make us do or say what they want?

I'll never know.... Well, I guess it works with most men I suppose...

"So, Ms Palmers, what is it you want to talk about on the side of the road on this glorious Californian evening? I'm sure you have places to be, and people to see..." I say coyly with a smile.

"Well Mr Marshall, how about you follow me to my place?" her smile broadens, as she tilts her head, flipping her hair, and pursues, "You are right. Conducting business on the side of the road might give people the wrong idea...I wouldn't want to be confused with a street walker..." she punctuates, licking her lips.

I laughed. The woman had style!

Ninety minutes later. I was sipping a scotch on her veranda, overlooking Sunset, and she was staring at me with an angry look.

"James, this is my last and final offer. $150K."

"The answer is still no Frances. Look, you are really wasting your time, and mine... and we both know time is money...."

Frances was evidently bewildered, her face displaying her internal discontent.

Upon arriving at her place, she had taken his leather jacket under the pretence of making him comfortable, but I knew she wanted to fondle my pockets.

Fuck, did she really think he was an amateur? Unbelievable!

Then, probably realizing they were empty, she had turned on the charm and asked me who I was exactly to Julian. A business associate? Someone from the studio? Because, she knew most of them and had never seen me before. I told her the truth. I was neither. I was just an employee hired by the McCarty Group. She flat out told me she didn't believe me.

Changing tactics, she sat on her plush sofa, asking me to join her. Purring, she then propositioned me and offered herself on a platter if I told her exactly what my business with Julian was.

She actually said, "You'll get to spend a night with La Frances...An entire night James... How often do you think such an opportunity will present itself in your lifetime?"

That gave me pause.

I mean, I'm a man, after all and I really didn't have to tell her much. Just that Julian hired me to find a woman he slept with. Really, that isn't much info for a spending a few hours between the legs of La Frances...The woman has a sulphurous rep in that area...

I must say, I was tempted.

But her own smile was her undoing. I saw the Cheshire cat grin she had on when she thought I was caving, and it felt like I was the canary and the woman was ready to devour me.

I cleared my throat, and said coolly, "Do you think I could get a drink?" The smile faded, and she got up, heading to the bar. I readjusted my shirt, and followed her.

When we both had drinks in hands, she said in a business-like tone, "Let's go on the veranda, and discuss what we can do for each other..."

So here we were, ten minutes in, and she was getting angrier as I was sipping my scotch.

The bidding had started at $25,000.

I simply said, "That's less than what he paid me."

Her eyes had widened, but with a poker face she countered, "$75,000. James, Cash. Tonight. If you tell me exactly why he hired you for."

I said nothing.

She added, "James, I have the feeling whatever you are doing for him is more about a certain woman than himself. Am I right?"

I still said nothing. My expression remained blank.

She leaned forward, saying coyly, "Ok, I'm going to assume I'm right. So, tell me about the woman, James. Why is she so important to Julian?"

I sipped, and exhaled. I wasn't even looking at her, but at some giant neon sign across the boulevard.

She yelled, "Look at me!" My head turned towards her, and she pursued more calmly this time, "$150,000. James. That's my last offer."

I told her she was wasting her time. I Got up, thanked her for the drink, and asked for my jacket.

She might have time to waste, I didn't.

I had someone to call.

((~~!~~))

Frances

As I closed the door behind James Marshall, I could feel the rage building in my throat.

I held myself against the back of the door for a few seconds to calm myself down. I wanted to scream.

Damn James Marshall!! How dare he?!

I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of men or women who have ever said no to La Frances, they all have scars, as a reminder.

I would deal with Mr Marshall. Later.

But he was wrong if he thought this was over. I had his name, I would find out who he was exactly and why he and Julian were so secretive.

I went to my bathroom with my Blackberry, looked at myself in the mirror after reapplying my lipstick, smiled to my reflection, placed the phone to my ear, and still watching myself said in a cajoling voice, my smile widening,

"Ari baby... I hope it's not too late? How are you? I have a favor to ask..."