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"Excuse me, I would like to speak to whomever is in charge of your media department," Gene said calmly.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked clearly.
"No, but I was wondering if you could accommodate me. I'm most interested in speaking to someone in authority regarding what was televised last night."
"Hold on a minute, I'll get you someone in our PR department," she said.
"Mr. Savitch, Gene Simmons is here to see you… with his lawyers…" she spoke into her headpiece. Quietly Gene took a seat in the lobby, glancing thoughtfully at the glass doors leading into the studios and corporate offices.
In the legal department, the call went out to one of the lawyers on staff at the corporate studios. Mr. Savitch had just sat down to morning coffee, but he was not prepared for the receptionists' call.
"Oh shit," Mr. Savitch cursed under his breath at his desk when the call came. "Hold on a moment, Gabi. I'll be there shortly..."
He glanced anxiously to his partner Ms. Burke, whose eyes widened at the paleness in his countenance. Already sweat was starting to form on his palms, and she asked, "What's wrong… you look like an earthquake just hit!"
"Gene Simmons is here!" he whispered. "In the lobby!"
"Oh dear," she got out. "Well… we had better go speak to him…"
Squaring their shoulders, they strode out into the lobby. Mr. Savitch saw the tall figure rise, tucking his sunglasses into the top pocket of his coat. It really was him, in person, with nobody else!
"Mr. Savitch will best be able to assist you," the receptionist chirped. She heaved a sigh of relief as Gene rose and strode over to the two lawyers, both who seemed very nervous about moving from where they stood in front of the doors.
"Hello there… Mr. Ah… Simmons… what a pleasant surprise," Mr. Savitch said as calmly as possible, although he had to wipe one hand on a trouser leg before extending it to offer it to Gene.
"Are you the legal reps?" Gene asked them.
"That would be us, Ms. Burke and myself," Savitch nodded, indicating his partner. "If you would be so kind as to tell us what brings you here… we'll do our best to answer any questions you might have.."
Gene did not raise his hand to take it, but folded his arms across his chest as he . "I'm here regarding a certain segment on your television program aired last night…"
"Which… particular segment…" Savitch asked.
"Why don't we discuss this in more comfortable settings," Ms. Burke offered, opening the door. She frantically intimated with a wag of her head to invite Gene in with them.
"That would be acceptable," Gene nodded. They invited him to walk with them to a good-sized office where he was shown a chair, and they seated themselves in the plush chairs behind Mr. Savitch's desk. Ms. Burke stood up, leaning against the wall.
"Can we get you anything, coffee… tea…"
"No thank you," Gene said slowly. His dark eyes fixed imposingly into Savitch's, making the fellow want to sit on the edge of his seat.
"Well… ask your… questions…"
"I am very disappointed and concerned about those photographs that were shown on television last night, that were taken on my property," Gene said firmly. "Who was responsible for them? One of your journalists, or an independent?"
"We're not at liberty to disclose that information…" Mr. Savitch said. "But it was not an employee of Extra."
"Who made the decision to run it, without consulting me or my representatives?" Gene asked, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair. He rested one long leg atop the other, his gaze piercing holes in Savitch and Burke.
"Well, it would be our program director," Burke answered.
"You know better then that," Gene shook his head. "I don't think this reflects well on your organization. Especially since the party in question was not me, but my present girlfriend. Especially if she has not given her consent…"
"You're in the public domain, Mr. Simmons," Savitch said, clearing his throat. "I know you must be aware of that."
"Is Ms. Mason in the public domain?" Gene asked, eyes sparkling with anger for a moment.
"Unfortunately yes," Savitch took a deep breath. "We cannot say much more on this matter…"
"Is that so?" Gene asked. "Well, I want to make myself very clear. I want you to tell your program director that I intend to press charges if the copies of that video and the pictures are not surrendered to me or my company…"
"We are not in a position to do that," Savitch shook his head.
"Why not?"
"We only bought the rights to display the photos on that one segment. They were submitted by someone who said they had the originals, but would be willing only to sell the total rights for a large sum of money…"
"Then I suggest you wipe them clean or forget you have them… unless you want to hear from my lawyer… it's your choice… and your face…"
"Mr. Simmons, please…" Burke said. "I'm sure we can work out something…"
"I'm glad you feel that way, ma'am," Gene nodded, focusing his gaze on her. "I am sure that it would come to financial compensation. If that is what it will take to settle this quietly, I would be interested in purchasing what copies of the video segments you do have… and even the negatives themselves…"
"Well…" Mr. Savitch stammered, and peered up at Ms. Burke. "We'd have to discuss that with our program director and staff…"
"No… the one who sold those to us… that party has possession of the negatives. We only have the videos we released last night that were taken from the prints…" she said. "Anything else I'm not at liberty to discuss…"
Just then, the telephone rang, and someone picked it up. "Hello… yes… He's here… what? They want to what?"
Gene narrowed his eyes, his manager, lawyer and other publicists exchanging glances in the studio offices. There was a hurried conversation between the executives, before the woman turned back to Gene.
"Well?" he asked.
"I don't think we can help you. We no longer hold the rights to the material. Several other interested parties have offered to purchase the show segments for a considerable sum…" Savitch babbled
"What if I made you a better offer?" Gene asked levelly. "I would be interested in purchasing those pictures or videos for my own use… just name your price…"
"Since you put it that way. But I'm afraid we can only sell the tapes of the information. The photographer… well he's the one you'd have to speak to. But I wouldn't press charges if I were you, if this was an official declaration…"
"Let's talk," Gene said, motioning to his lawyer and publicist. "Who's your media rep?"
"Right this way, Mr. Simmons…" the lady said. Gene strode past
the scared rep, and into the main conference room. The door slammed
shut.
***************************************
Shannon had brought the children by the home to check in and see if Terri was doing all right. She herself had seen the television broadcast and called Gene on her own personal concern. Unlike some ex's she actually got along with Terri.
She thought back to that first day when they had run into each other. Where Gene had introduced Terri as his girlfriend, at a business meeting regarding the Girls of KISS and the special KISS Playboy special. Shannon for old time's sake had shown up to say hello to Gene and offer her moral support, and because she had been interested to meet this new woman in Gene's life.
That first tentative meeting had grown into a friendship. It took a little work, but Shannon and Terri actually got along rather well. Especially when she brought Nicholas and Sophie by the first time to meet Gene for his visiting day, and she introduced them to his new girlfriend.
Terri was terrified, but Shannon had already psyched them up to meet her, and while they were quiet, they were well behaved. Both threw themselves over Gene that first visit and shook Terri's hand graciously. While Gene took the children swimming, Shannon and Terri spent a little time simply talking over diet coke.
Now as Shannon came by, she saw Terri nervously answering the door, and greeting her with a brief tentative hug.
"Heard all about it, girl. Shit…" Shannon shook her head. Nicholas held his mom's hand while Sophie peered around to see if Gene was home.
"Gene's gone to the offices… to see if they can track down the name of the reporter," Terri told Shannon. "C'mon in…"
"Dad's late, but he's coming by soon, okay?" Shannon told them. "Go on in and find something to do till he comes okay, kids?"
"Okay mom," they nodded grudgingly, disappointed Daddy would be delayed. Both greeted Terri in their usual way, and she felt Nicholas put something into her hand, "These are for you. Mom said you were upset… so…"
"Thanks…" Terri said, squeezing his hand. The teenage boy strode confidently in after his sister, who was in search of the Nintendo system in the entertainment room.
Hand on her shoulder, Shannon walked inside the home which she had once shared with Gene. They headed for the kitchen, where Terri fished for a diet soda for them both.
"I feel so pissed, like this asshole stole something I can never get back… and yet am I being stupid and petty when women pay good money to take their clothes off and have the public see them?"
"There's a huge difference, Terri, so you're not being petty about this," Shannon said. "I get paid to make an adult film. And I sign a consent form. You were not approached for this, and you got nothing but embarrassment…"
"I hope I don't seem like I'm uncomfortable about my body, but that's not it… it's just not fair damn it!"
"I know it sucks. Gene was going to call off seeing the kids, but when he told me what happened, I wanted to drop by and give you moral support. You have to chose whether to profit by it either by suing them or trying to get your hands on the negatives, and charge them for misusing your image in public… I could get you a good agent…"
"Wait, you mean I should do what you and the Playmates do? Sue because he didn't have me sign a consent for taking nude pictures?"
"Exactly. In the adult entertainment industry, we are paid to exhibit our bodies. If his intent was to make profit in the adult industry, you could claim exclusive rights to your image in the nude… and that's how you could nail the bastard."
"He'll claim I'm in the public domain," Terri groaned, plunking ice into her glass.
"That's why this is an option," Shannon Tweed told her. "I just wanted you to realize that people buy Penthouse and Playboy to look at naked women, so what does it matter if they see you in the buff? The only difference is that he didn’t' ask your permission. Our bodies are trademarked like actor's faces. You should get something out of it in a legal way that can avoid the most embarrassment…"
"Thanks Shannon. That gives me a very good idea…" Terri realized.
"Glad to help," Shannon nodded, giving her a hug. "Now… where the hell is Gene? As if we have to ask, right?"
"Yes. Can you help me with something?"
"Gladly," Shannon nodded. "What?"
"Any of your friends in the adult entertainment industry, like your friends in Playboy… would they be willing to play a part in a plan I have to get those negatives?"
"Oh, you mean approach the reporter who took the pictures? And get the negatives," Shannon scratched her chin. "Yeah… I can talk to some of my agent's friends…"
"Like make it look like Playboy's interested?" Terri asked, with a smile. "In doing a spread on Gene's girls in the buff. But they can't get me to commit to a shoot unless I have a variety of shots, and that means they will pay lots of money to that reporter to get exclusive rights to my image for their article?"
"Hmm," Shannon laughed. "Now you're thinking…"
**********************************************************
Terri picked up the telephone, and heard Gene on the other end, voice
filled with frustration as he reported, "They won't tell me who the hell
it is, unless I offer to buy the videotapes…" Gene muttered. "And
even then they're afraid I'll sue their asses…"
"Gene… don’t panic. Shannon's here and she…"
"Shit… I forgot it was visiting day…"
"Gene, don't throw a shit fit," Shannon broke in from the extension. "I figured out a way to help you figure out who did it."
"How…"
"Shannon got in touch with her Playboy reps. They offered to help us as a favor to Shannon and some of her playmate friends. They hate to see the misuse of public images that aren't regulated by monetary gain," Terri said excitedly.
"So that was who else called them," Gene's astonishment came. "Son of a bitch you women are too fucking clever!"
"Right now my friends at Playboy are talking to Extra as a prospective buyer of the tapes of the pictures," Shannon said. Just then her cell phone rang and she picked it up.
"Hello? Yeah…" she asked, clicking her phone on. A look of excitement passed over her face, and she turned back to the telephone.
"What?" Terri asked. "Don't keep me in suspense, who was it?"
"They released the name. Playboy has it in their files. And they're gonna give it to me. But he's gonna have to sign a release to the rights for the negatives…" Shannon said with excitement.
"Shannon, you're beautiful!" Gene shouted over the telephone.
"Nice. Now get your ass back here and see your kids," Shannon said. "And tell 'em you'll get back to them about that offer!"
Gene said goodbye and hung up. Terri and Shannon hung up, and shared a big grin.
"Thank you so much! I love you!" Terri cried. "Well… wait… not in that way!"
"Hey, it’s the least I could do," Shannon smiled, accepting Terri's grateful hug. "You're Gene's girl, and one of my friends. We take care of our own."
"You want to know the next part of the plan?" Terri asked.
"Either you do a centerfold or get the negatives, right?" Shannon winked.
"Well, I had been hoping to get a public apology. Would Playboy throw a shit fit if I didn't."
"Not at all. It's your image you're protecting. They're
just doing my agent a favor for good PR, and he's doing me a favor because
I'm a good client. Don't worry!"
************************
An hour or so later, Gene strode in the door to be greeted by Terri,
then Shannon. He pressed a kiss to Terri's lips and hugged her close.
Turning to Shannon, he pulled her into an embrace as well.
"Damn that was smart. I'm just pissed I didn't think of it!" Gene complained.
"Oh shut up, I'm just doing it cause I like Terri," Shannon joked. "Seriously, I hope you get him. But don't forget you have an interesting opportunity here… Terri…"
"I won't," Terri said as Shannon waved goodbye.
"I'll pick them up sometime tonight," she offered. "Have fun…"
"Will do," Gene nodded. Arm around Terri's shoulders they walked in to spend a day with Gene's kids.
"Hello, this is Playboy Incorporated," said the perky voice. "We saw your pictures in the latest edition of Extra, and we were wondering if you would be interested in selling your pictures to our magazine?"
"You noticed my pictures?" he asked, a little dubiously. He had considered selling them to Playboy or Penthouse, but to have them call him? It seemed like a bolt out of the blue.
"Many did. Have you had any other offers?"
"Well, Penthouse and Hustler called," he fibbed, although he had tried to get with a friend from Extra or Entertainment tonight to get one of them on the line.
"Please keep us in mind. We'll talk. Just let us know what time of week would work out best for you…"
"I'm free two weeks from now," he said slowly.
"Excellent. We'll see you then…" she completed as he gave available dates. Gleefully he grinned, and clicked off the cell phone. Pushing it into the pocket of his jacket, he wandered off down the street with his camera in hand. He'd heard from one "source" that there were good pickings for snaps down by the local Tower Records. Bruce Kulick was slated to run a promo and autograph signing for his album Audio Dog. He had heard rumors from his "sources" that his latest subject had possibly had a tryst with the former guitarist of KISS. Perhaps if he could get shots of the two together…
Against his chest the phone vibrated, its little electronic tune beeping. Opening it up he said, "Kurt Danvers here. What can I do for ya?"
There came a slow, heavy breathing. He blinked, and couldn't hide the grin. "Okay… if you're expecting the 1900 sex line…"
He saw that there was an unlisted called. Suddenly the tone clicked off, and he snickered, clicking it off. Thinking little of it except a random crank call, he put the phone back in his pocket.
A few hours later he returned to his apartment, with no pictures for the day. There was a bleeping message on his answering machine, but the number was unlisted. Depressing the switch, he heard the playback, "Hello…. You are one… hell… of a photographer…" came the sultry voice, breathing heavily. "I just have to see more…"
He looked at the number, and saw it was unlisted. The voice sounded the same, and he lifted an eyebrow. Probably just some nut, but he couldn't help but be flattered in some way. Despite the fact, he'd sold many pictures to Inquirer and Weekly World News. This was the first time a television magazine show had purchased his images.
Glancing around his studio apartment, he rested a hand on his hip. IT was messy, with laundry and grocery bags on the floor by the kitchen. Soon it would be time to upgrade to a one or possibly a two, if he played his cards right. Sometimes a girl or two would come back here to be entertained, if he was lucky, and had remembered to clean. Not often, but there were always those willing to share the night with a photographer, especially one who knew where all the celebrities lived.
He opened his closet, and tossed his coat in, careful not to knock over anything. Striding over to his bed, he opened the closet and reached for a hanger, reaching past a collage of pictures he had taken. This was his trophy collection, many pictures of women he had brought her and convinced to bare it all. Some were perfectly aware of this, others not. Not all of them noticed the small video camera strategically positioned so that if the door was only left open a crack, all could be revealed.
How ironic, Kurt snickered to himself. From what he had heard, a similar wall of pictures could be found in the home of his last subject. Gene Simmons himself had his own 'collection' so what made him any different from Kurt, he thought. Fame, power and most important of all… money. That was the only determination between men like him and men like Gene. How large of a wad of cash they carried in their wallets. It was only a matter of time, Kurt knew, that if the right hands were played he could go from sneaking celebrity snaps to hosting shows like Extra, or even taking snaps at Playboy. They wanted his pictures! Imagine that!
Danvers would be a name to be reckoned with. Money, power, and
women. All the women who would flock to a man with plenty of simoleons.
Platinum credit cards, a house on the shore, and limousine rides. Getting
into all the famous clubs and dropping celebrity names wherever.
He already had his next plan in mind, his next subject.
***************************************************
Terri opened the closet, and reached for a hanger. She noticed
where part of Gene's collection had been moved to, and stopped for a moment.
Neatly the albums had been stacked on a shelf at the rear of the closet.
On a whim she opened the most recent volume and leafed through the pictures.
Her eyes came to rest on a particular image and she ran a hand over the
corner of the photo. Kneeling on the corner of his bed was her image,
a long red silk bathrobe parted with both hands to just about reveal her
breasts, her mouth twisted into a silly smile. Taken over a year
ago, it transported her mind back in time to the first week they had stayed
together, before the tour resumed its way up the coast. It had been
the night of the last concert in LA, and Gene had formally asked her to
move in with him. She joked about his "collection" and asked if he
intended to add her to it.
"Only if you want me to. I always ask first," he said.
On a whim, she'd playfully posed in some rather provocative positions,
and Gene had happily snapped away. She had forgotten about the pictures
until now, because Gene at some point had moved the collages into the walk
in closet on his side, out of plain view.
"Terri, you up here, sweetheart?" Gene's voice came. She moved
away from the closet, putting her face in her hand, letting the hot tears
fall as she yanked her glasses off.
"I'm here," she said dully, through her sobs. Slowly she walked
out, eyes blurry with tears into Gene's arms.
"Sweetheart what… what's wrong…" he asked. He was figuring mood
swings were part of pregnancy, but this seemed something more as she buried
her face in his chest. Glancing around her, he saw the picture collection
he'd amassed over the years, and groaned.
"Aww shit if that's what's making you upset I'll move it or take it
down entirely…" he apologized.
"No Gene it's not your naked girlfriend/groupie collection in itself,"
she told him. "It's just… I just couldn't stop thinking of that bastard
with his camera…"
"I wanted to tell you, that I have some good news. Joe and I
were going over the security videotapes today, and we have some footage
of this bastard leaving the house. I walked around the property to
see what I could see, and the gardener said he saw something that was left
by the gate…"
"What…"
"We have the bastard on tape," Gene said, holding up a video in his
had. "With this I can bust the son of a bitch!"
"I don't want to just bust him, I want to embarrass him like he embarrassed
me," Terri said. "He'll get a slap on the wrist, but then he'll be
right back out there again taking pictures. I know it!"
"I know you want to get even and so do I. However, I don't think
demented plots are a good idea. Not now that I have conclusive proof!
I was hoping that if I found evidence we could just let my lawyers handle
this…"
"Why the change of heart?" Terri asked him.
"I don't want you to get in trouble, that's why," Gene said slowly.
"I just… sending him threatening letters and all…"
"That's why we need help," Terri said. "He wont' stop, and a
legal battle's just gonna get more publicity, which is what he wants."
"C'mon let's just go downstairs and talk about this rationally…" Gene
suggested.
"All right, but I still think battling it out in court is not the way
to make a point…" she threw up her hand.
"Terri, the difference between those pictures I took and the ones he
took of you… I always asked…" Gene suddenly said.
"I know that," she said, choking back another sob.
"I just thought you should here it again. If you want I'll remove
of the ones of you… or eliminate the whole collection. If that will
help you feel better… that is."
"No, they belong to you. They're just pictures, memories.
They have nothing to do with you and me now. Hell, most of them are
probably twice my age now! Like our comic book collections or… "
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and both heard the doorbell
ring. Gene offered to answer it, kissing her on the cheek.
Terri felt a little better at the sound of the visitor's voice greeting
cheerfully.
"Terri, Calen's here," Gene said. "Is it a good time…"
"Yes," Terri said, striding forwards. "Sorry I'm not in the brightest
of moods Calen…"
"That's why I stopped by," Calen said. "Are you okay?"
"No," Terri admitted. "I'm a wreck."
"C'mon let's sit down and talk about it…" Calen said. "If you
want to…"
"It might help," Gene agreed.
The three gathered in the sitting room, and Gene rushed off momentarily
to get the women drinks. Calen sat next to Terri, resting a hand
on her shoulder as she asked, "Please tell me what all is going on… maybe
I can help. Is it the pictures…"
"Yes, I still can't think of how I want to make him understand how
embarrassed and angry I feel. I can't think of anything. Now Gene
wants to just drop the idea and nail the guy legally. Am I wrong
for…"
"No. You want to fight fire with fire. I have had my fill
with these paparazzi, and don't blame you at all. In fact, I have
an idea… if you want to hear it…"
"I'll take anything right now…"
"Well, you once told me about a nightmare you had about being chased
by a stalker…"
"Yes, it was horrible…"
"Well, you felt nervous and scared, and pressured, right?"
"Hell yes…"
"I was thinking about that, and that's why I came over to see you and
Gene, other then to offer moral support. I think I can give your
photographer an idea of what it's like to be chased in the public eye…"
"That's more like it. I was writing several sick letters…"
"That's a good start. But you need to make him think he's being
pursued. And for that you need a 'stalker'…"
"Oh you mean…"
"Exactly," Calen nodded. "I am an actress, so why not put it
to use in real life? This will be one of the more challenging roles
of my career…"
"Calen, I can't ask you to put yourself in danger…"
"You're not asking me, I'm volunteering," Calen interrupted her with
a smile. "I want to show these jerks as much as you and Gene.
This way they can't trace anything to you."
"Then what do I do while you're playing your role?"
"Oh you'll have a role to play too. The one you play well enough
now, as a writer. I'll need plenty of strange messages to deliver
to him…"
"Calen, did you just say what I think you said?" Gene demanded, walking
in with two glasses of soda.
"I did," she said, taking the glass of caffeine free diet coke from
him.
"I forbid it… you can't…" Gene shook his finger. "I won't have
you or Calen putting yourself in danger!"
"She's volunteering. And besides what makes you think you could
stop her any more then I could?" Terri glanced up at Gene. "You couldn't
before, and you sure as hell can't now!"
"What are you going to do, lock me in my room?" Calen teased.
"Damn, outvoted by two hard headed women!" Gene groaned.
***************************************************
He had heard from a reliable source that Gene Simmons would be at a
book signing at Boarders for his new autobiography being released this
month. It would be fascinating to see if Terri even made a public
appearance. This would have to be coordinated very carefully, to
add to his growing file of celebrity portraits. Not only did he sell
pictures of stars in compromising positions; he also made his bread and
butter by sending shots of celebs in their various promotional activities.
Enquirer said they would pay him a nice lump sum of images of Gene at his
book promotions. Because of his picture sale to Extra on their behalf,
they had given him the green light to do most of the KISS stories.
He crept to the lines of reporters already arriving in masse. He kept his press pass in the breast pocket of his blazer, scooping out who was who. His camera hung just under the long coat he wore that concealed the bag with film and a tape recorder. Every aspect about him spoke patron instead of reporter. It was the easiest way to sneak inside and get the best pictures.
There came an excited shout as a limousine pulled up, and stopped right in front of the Boarder's bookstore. He pulled out the compact 35 MM one touch Nikon camera, instead of a Pentax or other heavily loaded thing, and let it hang just inside his jacket concealed by his wide necktie. Moving up behind one of the more prominent photographers, he slipped the press pass out, and held up a notepad with pencil tucked into it.
"Enquirer," he said, bustling past the police. They let him pass, and he moved up behind where the reporters were, flanked by photographers. Already the limo door was being opened by a personal security guard of Gene's in black with sunshades. Out of the limo the tall figure strode, black leather coat swirling around his ankles as he strode smoothly in. He gave a wave and nod. At that moment, Kurt held up his notepad, slipping the camera to one side of it. He pretended to drop the notepad, and as a woman leaned over to pick it up, he snapped two quick pictures of Gene in the space that she made, leaning over. She handed it back, and he just had enough time to drop the camera back into its hiding place.
"Thanks, babe," he winked, and slipped back into the crowd. He put away his press pass and wove his way through the crowd of autograph hunters around the store. Sunglasses on, he blundered into another policeman.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"Sorry, I wanted to have Gene Simmons sign something…"
"End of the line's that way…" the guard pointed. Apologetically Kurt nodded, and walked the right way. Peering into the window, he noticed Gene had already seated himself behind the table. Kurt snapped a few pictures, hiding the camera under his notebook as he did before. People were too busy trying to see Gene to notice, except one person who seemed to be looking at him. Kurt saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and felt someone's gaze burning holes in him. Turning a bit, he noticed someone with spiky hair dart back to a place in line once he tried to get a good look at who had been watching him.
When his part of the line got in, he excused himself and apologized for being in the wrong line. "Sorry I just wanted some coffee," he said to the guard.
"Okay, but don’t' try to steal back into line then," the guard outside boarders said, letting him behind the rope. He sauntered past the racks of books into the coffee house, and found a strategic position a distance off, letting him get a good shot of Gene through two stacks of books.
Kurt snapped a few more pictures. Glancing around he hoped no one would catch him. Someone brushed past him, and he stuffed the camera into the bookcase behind one of the display books. He whirled around, to see a rather nice backside up in the air as some female was leaning over to pick up a book she had dropped. The tight leather skirt molded to her butt like a second skin, fishnet stockings protruding from the high mid thigh hemline. He turned back around, and yanked his camera out of its hiding place. When she stood up, back still to him, he saw the frizzy hair, spiked with hair gel. She did not turn, but continued to walk down the aisle in the opposite direction of where he was headed.
Gazing over the top of the bookrack, he followed it to the end, where he saw the curve of the line of autograph hunters snaked their way to the table that had been set up. Gene scribbled a quick note into someone's book with a black permanent flare marker. Flashbulbs exploded. He couldn’t resist a quick picture at this range, and knelt down, sheltering his body with the end of the row. Silently his camera clicked again, and the 1000-speed film would capture the picture without the need for a flash.
Where was Terri, Gene's girlfriend, Kurt wondered as he took another picture? This time Gene had leaned over to peck the cheek of a rather curvaceous blond with her breasts nestled precariously in a leather halter-top. She giggled and held the book to her chest, rushing off as Gene cast her an amused glance. Another gem, he grinned in self-satisfaction. There were about ten pictures he took of Gene smooching admiring female fans, each a treasure for his upcoming Enquirer article.
From the rear of the store two personal security guards, both in black jeans and black T-shirts and sunglasses escorted someone between them. He recognized the tousled hair pulled into a French Twist, and the glasses with thick black frames over dark brown eyes. She strode on two-inch platform loafers, clad in a maroon business suit, which curved gracefully over her rounding abdomen. Kurt clicked a side picture, noticing she was beginning to show. The rumors of her pregnancy were true then! He had thought so when he had taken the last set of pictures, but this was the closest he had gotten.
They led her over to a chair behind the table, next to Gene. He stood up, as one guard pulled out a chair for her. Black leather sleeved arms folded her into their embrace, a brief yet passion filled kiss pressed between them. Once it was done they sat down in either chair, and Gene introduced her.
She had balls, appearing in public so soon after those pictures, Kurt shook his head. Terri's eyes darted nervously at the crowd, and Gene was mentioning something about her newest novel. How far would he go to help her promote her book, he wondered. This was very interesting indeed!
He was snapping a picture when he felt someone's eyes on him again. Turning his head ever so slightly he caught a glimpse of that same woman again, rounding the turn of the bookrack, only her backside visible for a second. What the hell?
Feeling suddenly exposed; he stuffed the camera in his pocket and wandered
out of the store.
************************************************
Later, Kurt held up the negatives before the red light blaring in his
small bathroom. Three flat pans of chemicals awaited the development
paper. Already those that he had developed from his last batch hung
on a fishing line strung from one corner of the bathroom to the other,
fixed in place with clothespins. Rather then trust anyone else to
develop his pictures, he always enjoyed this part of the activity.
That way no one could steal his work.
Frowning, he caught sight of a blur in one image. There she was again, that strange woman in the store. He had snapped a picture of Gene going in, and he could swear he saw the stocking leg in the back of the shot. Still there was enough of the picture to be worthwhile. Holding up the one of Gene and Terri in their passionate greeting, he saw with a smirk how their hands traced down each other's bodies, faces fused his hand on her butt to pinch affectionately. Typical. He hung that one next to the few of Gene kissing his fans, each one carefully chosen to be a curvaceous groupie sort, which would excite the Inquirer.
Just then, a jangling ring echoed from the main room. He ignored it, as it continued four more times, and he could hear his answering machine clicking on. Five minutes later, he heard the telephone ring again, and click off, then a fresh set of rings another five minutes later.
This continued for an hour, until he was sick of it. Cursing, he threw down his picture and marched out into the main bedroom area. He depressed the answer key, and his eyes widened as he saw he had 100 messages. Most of them were attempts to call, from some unlisted number!
Again the telephone rang, and Kurt picked it up, "Hello? What the hell do you want?"
"Uh… this is just Playboy calling back," the voice said sheepishly. "Do I have the right number…"
"Damn I'm sorry I just… the phone's been ringing off the hook and I thought…"
"Are you all right? Is this a bad time to call?" the perky voice asked.
"Uh… no… I just came back from a photo session… can I help you?"
"We needed to change the appointment from this Friday to the following Monday. Is that all right?"
"Sure yeah… okay… I'm sorry about how I answered… I just… it's been a rough day."
"Take care. Ciao, and we'll chat!" came the perky goodbye, and the phone clicked off.
"Shit," he cursed, angry he almost lost a possible client. Angrily he scrolled through the messages, and most were just clicks and busy signals. A few were just heavy breathing and about five were fragmented phrases that gave him the creeps.
"Hey pretty baby… I want you to take a picture of me next… naked…" it breathed, voice husky and almost a whisper.
He listened to the next, which was even more bizarre, "My breasts are aching for your camera to see them. The sight of your round camera makes me hot and wet inside…"
"Damn," he grumbled. Finally he checked the fifth message, and froze as he heard the voice again, "I saw you at the store today. Didn't you notice me, sexy?"
"It couldn't be…" he shook his head. "How the hell would they know…"
Again the telephone rang, and he picked it up, saying, "Hello?"
"Why didn't you turn around and help me pick up my book?" A voice cooed, husky and throaty.
"Who the hell is this?" Kurt snapped. "I think you have the wrong number…"
"Oh no baby, you know who I am…" came the throaty laugh in reply. "You are so hot when you're angry…"
"Okay very funny. Now goodbye!" Kurt snapped, and clapped the
phone down. He pressed the Do Not Disturb button to get some peace
and quiet while he developed the rest of his pictures.