Disclaimer: Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons and KISS are actual persons, and they are property of themselves. The portrayal of them in this story is fictitious, and is the work of a fan, for entertainment purposes only, not to demean or harm the people mentioned. Other characters are copyright by Trynia Merin. My thanks to Eisencookie, Ms Starchild and Ilovepaul66 for help with this story!

"Mr. Stanley, I just noticed someone running away from the party," Christine mentioned as she walked past her employer.

In full swing, Paul's luau had been a smash hit. The hired hula dancers, the steel drum band, and catered pork roast all merged into the ultimate Hawaiian experience. Or so he had hoped for all the guests of his 50th birthday party. Gene had thrown the event for him, and he'd returned to his Beverly Hills apartment to find it invaded with well wishers, close friends and hangers on.

Now amidst the dates, Paul regarded his maid with some amusement. He pushed back a curl of hair from his face and asked, "Whom? We can't have a guest who's unhappy... who is it?"

"One of the guests who came in with Bob Ezrin," she said. "Gene had said to invite everyone who's been involved with KISS productions in the last 20 years, and I think this girl came into the party with one of the junior record producers for Simmons/Stanley records..."

"A girl, how interesting," Paul said. "You have any idea what her name is?"

"I recall when I answered the door and saw the RSVP in the guy's hand... for Mr. Chad Burns and Miss Julia Bryce..."

"Julia? The unhappy guest is named Julia?" Paul raised his eyebrow.

"I saw them come in together, so I assumed they were a couple... but then I noticed him talking to someone else, one of the models who had come in, and then I saw the girl, named Julia just run out in back to the direction of the pool."

"We'll have to see about this," Paul muttered, intrigued. "Wait here... and if Gene asks about the birthday boy, tell him he's seeing about business..."

As Paul circulated the party, he inquired about the girl named Julia. In small scraps, he discovered who she was. He hoped it wasn't anything he'd done or not done that had caused her to leave.

"Julia?" Molly asked, rushing around when she noticed her friend had disappeared. She moved over to where her fellow Playboy playmate Cheryl was talking with Shannon animatedly. Excusing herself, she said, "Excuse me, Cheryl, but have you seen Julia?"

"I saw her run outside," Cheryl glanced around.

"Julia?" Shannon Tweed glanced around herself. "You mean Miss Bryce, your friend who's the aesthetician? That wasn't her I just saw was it... She does great work," Shannon Tweed said.

"She came with her boyfriend... Chad Burns," said Cheryl. As a miss December of this year, she had gotten her first big break at the Heffner mansion, and was still a resident there in full standing.

"Then why isn't she with him?" Shannon wondered as she noticed the man in question wandering around with a young Asian model she recognized from the Lane Bryant show.

"I heard they were having problems," Molly said. "But if you did see her, where did she go?"

"Then why invite her here?" asked Shannon, tapping her foot.

"That's what I'm going to find out..."

Shannon grabbed the nearest girl serving cocktails and asked, "Did you just see someone rush out of the party, and if so, where is she?"

"I saw a girl in a blue sundress just leave. I thought she was walking around the pool..." the girl answered.

Molly wandered out, pushing through the sea of chattering guests in their bright plumage of Hawaiian finery. However, she noticed Paul Stanley suddenly pushing past the guests before her, closing the sliding door behind him. She was about to follow when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey good looking, what's cooking," joked a voice behind her.

"Gene?" she laughed, turning around. "I'm sorry but I'm the middle of something..."

"Too busy to say hello to an old friend?" he joked.

"I was looking for my friend Julia... she just ran out..."

"Looks like Paul's on top of it," Gene commented. "I wouldn't' worry..."

"But her boyfriend and her..."

"Say what?" Gene asked, raising an interested eyebrow.

"I just got to find her, I'll talk to you later," Molly said, excusing herself. She opened the sliding door and moved out quickly into the night, followed by Gene.

Before he could follow, he felt someone's arms wrap around him from behind, and deposit a kiss on his cheek. He smiled and turned around to take his main woman into his arms for a quick and steamy kiss. Parting, she glanced up at him, and said, "Looks like you're pursuing something interesting aren't you?"

"Oh, just the usual," he joked.

"Why don't you come back into the party, lover?" she asked, tugging his hand.

"But that girl... said something..."

"I know. Let it ride, and leave it to us girls. She needs a female shoulder to cry on," Shannon urged. She tugged Gene's arm insistently, and pulled him back into the party. Cheryl wandered over and glanced around.

"Any luck?" she asked.

"I have a lead. She did go out back," Shannon said.

"That's what Molly said," Gene muttered.

"I'll take care of it, and join you soon," Shannon promised, blowing him a kiss. She followed Molly out into the night, leaving Gene to talk to Cheryl.

Julia Bryce wiped angry tears out of her eyes as she stared into the rippling bands of light. They crisscrossed her face with their strange reflection as the water lapped under the gentle evening breeze. From within Paul Stanley's apartment the sounds of laughter reached her ears through the strong silence. Everyone seemed to be so happy compared to the anger that filled her mind, and knotted her throat. How could he? They had been invited together, for crying out loud.

"All I do is help people like that bitch look beautiful," Julia muttered. Every day they came in for skin and various treatments in her office. As an aesthetician, she applied the latest in retin A, oxygen and botox injections to countless customers.

She glimpsed her reflection in the brilliant rectangle of the lit up pool. It was hard to see more then the wavering image of her own shadow. Thirty years old, five years into her career left her looking an attractive size 14, with a gently curving bust and hips. However, she felt like an elephant sometimes compared to the size 2 and 0 models that came into her office. Believing in diet instead of the liposuction offered by the other inhabitants of her Looking and Feeling well office, she rarely thought of herself as ugly. Not at all. She worked out, was toned and fit. Yet, where did the extreme line between beautiful and comely end in this town?

She knew Paul Stanley only as a major client of the center. Under the urging of the plastic surgeon that had done a bit of touchup work for the musician, she had been invited to the Christmas party at Gene Simmon's mansion. There she had met Chad, the young record producer who she had lived with for the past year. It had been a stormy relationship at best. Yet she had noplace else to go, and this was the last insult. Didn't he promise this Christmas party at Paul Stanley's house would be the best place to KISS and makeup?

Only at far range had she met him or Gene. These parties included close to two hundred people, and they were always surrounded with security guards that limited access to these celebrities except for their immediate friends and party. This one had started out far differently, for it was personal and intimates, only one hundred of the closest of staff and their families. She had seen Paul Stanley in his Hawaiian shirt, sipping pino grigot with a cluster of friends and family, and had kept admiring him from a distance while talking to her friends Molly and Cheryl. Both were Playboy playmates, and friends of Shannon Tweed, who happened to have visited the center for a few touchups to clear her skin of freckles and other stray marks.

Her head snapped up as she noticed the sound of the sliding door. Tears in her eyes she wandered away from the pool, in the direction of the patio where several small tables were slightly obscured by rose bushes, and palm trees. IN the flickering light of a few tiki torches, she noticed two women rushing out to find her, calling her name insistently.

"Julia!" called Molly. However, she didn't feel like even speaking to her best friend about this. It was too embarrassing.

Wiping away angry tears she pushed through the rosebushes and banged into a wrought iron table. She heard a loud barking, and the jingle of a chain. Snapping up her head, she noticed the large Doberman straining against his chain, barking alertly at her.

"Shit," she muttered. She had heard he had a dog, but what was it doing out back? Naturally a watchdog.

"Good boy," she muttered, holding out her hand for it to sniff. The Doberman stopped, and sniffed her outstretched hand with some interest. Giving it a lick, he backed off and wagged his tail expectantly.

"See I'm no threat. Why don't you just calm down or you'll blow it for all of us," she urged, as the dog let her scratch it behind the ears. He nosed into her hand, urging her to continue petting. Ruefully she reflected that her way with animals was something more then usual, for most dogs had a very positive reaction to her calm nature. Indeed, she had a small beagle named Rusty, who was her unconditional companion. Too badly he was the only male who didn't expect anything more from her then a warm lap and dinner every night, and gave her passionate wet kisses no matter how badly her day had gone.

"He's not normally friendly to strangers," someone said from behind her. A hand rested on her shoulder and she collided with a tall figure, completely surprising the living daylights out of her.

"Oh crap..."

"Shh easy," he whispered, drawing her away from the Doberman. "I'd be careful around him if I were you..."

"He seems to like me," she muttered. "Unlike some males of the two legged kind..."

"I saw you run out of the party," he whispered. She was sure it was a man, for she felt his strong hands steadying her shaking body next to his. "The host is going to wonder if he's done something wrong..."

"I'm sorry to disappoint him too," she muttered. "It's just been a shitty night... I'll just be going..."

"Whoa, wait, what's your hurry?" he asked. The Doberman barked and whined, straining on his chain. Striding up to the dog the shadow scratched and pet him around the ears, to a chorus of licks and excited rump waggling. Clearly, this dog was accustomed to the stranger as well. Nosing against Julia's knee, he licked her hand as well as she offered it again.

"He likes me," she whispered.

"Lucky lady," he whispered back. "Say, why are you out here all alone in the dark?"

"Good question. I'm not sure if you want to know the answer... I was about to go anyway..."

"Wait, aren't you having fun?" he asked, taking her hand and leading her toward the light. She stiffened.

"I can't go back in there, not with him cavorting with... with HER!" she protested.

"Uh oh, guy troubles?" her companion guessed. "Want to talk about it?"

"He's an absolute JERK!" she spat, folding her arms across her chest and turning away. "First we have a fight and then... oh why am I telling you... I don't want to ruin your good time..."

"Now wait, I'm here, and you've got my interest. Why don't' we go back in, and you can tell me..."

"I'm not going back with him there," she muttered. "I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me... like this..."

"Easy," he urged. "We don't' have to go back in just yet. I'm here, I have ears, and if you want to, we can talk about it. I just don't think the host is going to be too happy to see a pretty lady like you not enjoying yourself at his party..."

"You'll have to tell Mr. Stanley I'm sorry," she sighed. "I came with a date, but he's interested in other pursuits..."

"Well I don't have a date either," her companion answered, voice still in a low hush as his hands stroked her back down to her waist. It slipped around her shoulders and she felt the other hand brush her cheek gently. Undone by this action, she gripped the front of his shirt and started to cry. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close in a comforting hug.

"Aww shit," she sobbed.

"Easy, shh, it's okay," he urged, rocking her against him. "That bad, huh?"

The whole story poured out of her lips at once, and she was unable to stop it. Through her sobs, her companion listened, stroking her back or shoulder encouragingly. He led her over to a nearby porch swing with a large canopy, and urged her to sit down next to him.

"You're an aesthetician?" he asked, as she wiped away another tear.

"Yes, go figure," she laughed. "I help people look beautiful every day. Ironic because he's left me for the very thing I work on... I mean clients... you know what he said to me when I challenged him?"

"What?"

"Why couldn't I use my techniques on MYSELF?"

"Shit, that's harsh," he sighed, tipping her chin to face him. She could only see his face in shadows, the curl of wavy hair dark against the night.

"I know, right?" she laughed sadly. "We had a fight before we came, and this was supposed to be his way of making up. I go to get us drinks, and he's talking to this model. Don't even know her name. But he pretends like I don't exist, and then he throws that verbal zinger, and snubs me..."

"Any reason why?" her companion asked.

"I don't know. I think it's my fault because I work long hours. When I'm not always there, he whines. And then when he comes home late, he says nothing about why. I've smelled perfume on his clothes for the last three months. And then when I DID ask him, he told me to mind my own damn business..."

"Sounds like a real winner. You're going to leave him right?"

"No doubt. Kind of hard when I live with him..."

"Damn," he commented. "Sounds like you need to move out now..."

"Never mind I pay most of the share of the rent," she sighed. "He's named Chad, and he's trying to make a name for himself in music..."

"Say, why don't' you forget him," her companion suggested. "Come back to the party, and have fun. Then first thing tomorrow have his stuff packed up, and put him out..."

"His name's on the lease," she sniffed. "Stupid huh?"

"Hey, why don't you pack up and leave him then? Find yourself a place to stay with a friend..."

"I don't know of many I can stay with," she sighed.

"Surely there must be someone," he said. "Why don't we talk about this back at the party with your friends. I think they're already looking for you..."

"I guess they are,' she sighed. "I just... don't want to spoil their good time..."

"Now how silly is that?" he reproved her. "If they're your friends, they deserve to know you're okay..."

"I know... but..."

"Shh," he urged, and moved closer. She felt warm fingers on her lips, touching them in the darkness. They were slightly callused on the tips, from some great exertion. Pulling her close to his body, her companion pressed a soft kiss to her cheek in the darkness with warm soft lips of his own.

She shivered in a wave of delight that washed over her body from head to toe. In that instant her anger and fear was momentarily distracted by the quick pounding of her pulse. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, whispering, "Thank you for being so kind... I guess I do have a habit of pushing people away..."

"I know how that is," he answered back. "Not wanting people to see you vulnerable. But there's a point where you need to let them in. And you don't have to tell them EVERYTHING, you know. There are some parts of yourself you can keep private. But you shouldn't keep them out completely... just let them see what you WANT them to see..."

"Interesting way of putting it," she said, shivering as his whispers tickled her ear. In the dark, she fingered his face, tracing the contours of it with careful fingertips. She felt soft hair and the trace of what seemed a scar just before one ear, and the silver hoop of a ring in the other ear, his left. Probably the traces of corrective surgery. Firm strong cheekbones and a nicely shaped chin were next before his amused chuckle.

"You have nice hands," he whispered. "I like how they feel on me. I wonder what else they can do?"

Shyly she withdrew her hand from his face, but felt him catch hold and put her hand back. Hot breath wafted between them, and she fingered his lips. Slowly he kissed her fingertips, then palm, and the back of her hand, melting any caution. Lifting her mouth to his, she let him pull her into a kiss, lips moving over hers delicately, then increasing in firmness. Over his shoulders her hands traced, the moan escaping her throat as his hands contoured her body in the darkness. They kept out of the territory of her chest, instead rubbing her bare back and playing with the straps of her sundress with light tickling motions.

"You like what you feel, aesthetician?" he joked.

"I wonder if you like what you feel?" she asked.

"I'm just hoping I'm helping YOU feel better," he whispered. "IT sucks to be at a party without a date... or having your date diss you... and it looks like I'm elected to help you have the best time you can... after all, you don't' want to disappoint your host do you?"

"We hardly know each other," she giggled. "Not that I'm complaining... but are you single?"

"Very much so," he chuckled. "No worries there. And we don't have to do anything you don't want to do, baby. But if you don't mind, I would like the pleasure of your company back at the party in a few minutes..."

"I'd be pleased to entertain you, but I don't uh... go all the way with people I don't know..."

"That's refreshing," he answered, kissing her cheeks one by one. "When I say the pleasure of your company, I mean the pleasure of getting to know you. And helping you forget all about your lack of a date..."

"You're too kind..."

"So are you, giving me the privilege and honor of letting me be your date," he chuckled. "Now, I think your friends are wondering where you are..."

"JULIA!" Molly called, her voice rising. "ARE you okay?"

"JULIA!" Shannon called. "Good god girl... where are you?"

"Over here," Julia sniffed. "I'm sorry..."

Standing up from the porch swing, she moved over to where her two friends were standing. Molly held out her arms as Julia walked up to her, tears pouring down her cheeks. IN her friend's reassuring hug, she whispered her apologies.

"It's okay, I found her..." her companion said, in a pleasant tenor voice. "She's fine... but I think she's going to need some moral support..."

"Which I'm sure YOU'RE giving her," Shannon Tweed joked. He held a finger up to his lips, and she turned her attention to Molly.

"Girl you worried us sick," Molly shushed her. "Why don't' you come back and have some fun... screw Chad..."

"We were worried," said Shannon. "I wanted to say hi, but you rushed off... are you ok?"

"Shannon?" Julia asked, as her friend rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to rush off... I..."

"It's okay. We were just going back in, weren't we Julia?" her companion asked. "Why don't we all just go in?"

"You sure you're ok?" Shannon asked.

"I'll be fine," she said.

"That's a girl," Molly said, hugging her again. Shannon Tweed moved over and gave Julia a hug as well, patting her back in sisterly concern.

"C'mon..." she urged. "Gene's waiting to say hi to you... both of you..."

The foursome moved back toward the light and sound, exchanging light conversation. Before they reached the square of light that demarcated the sliding glass door, her companion said, "Wait a second, we'll join you in a few okay?"

"Sure..." Shannon tweed said. "Wouldn't want to cramp your style..."

"Go on," Julia urged Molly, guessing her companion was suddenly taking an interest in her plight. Strange, but intriguing. Far preferable to wallowing in misery. Both girls squeezed her hand again, and entered the luau once more.

"Now," her companion said, sliding between her and the glass door. "Are you going to promise me you'll TRY to have a good time?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Great. Because I'd love it if you'd join me, and keep me company for a while. The night's still young," he said. "Besides I want to know what you look like..."

"I hope you're not disappointed," she laughed as he slipped his arm around her waist, and led her into the party.

***

She suddenly noticed her companion in the full light and sound of the party, his arm tightly around her waist, holding her to his hip. His Hawaiian shirt almost matched the blue in her sundress, that came to her knees, for it was a soft blue with yellow and gold flowers up and down the front, coordinating with the loose white trousers he sported. His shoulder length hair hung in loose waves, softening the look of his handsome face. She blinked in shock and surprise when she took in the features she had explored in the darkness. Indeed, he had fine cheekbones, and his eyebrows gracefully swept over the dark eyes that twinkled. Shapely lips curved into a smile when he gave her the once over.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Shall we?" he asked, nudging her into the sea of party guests. One of the hula dancers floated over and dropped a purple lei around Julia's neck, and she laughed nervously.

"Sure," she said, taking a deep breath, and trying not to faint then and there. A cocktail waitress moved over quickly, carrying a tray laden with multiple fruity drinks, each complete with paper umbrella, except for the glasses of champagne here and there.

"Want a pina colada? Or champagne, maybe white wine...and if you don't drink I could get you some diet soda," he offered, reaching for the drinks on the tray.

"Pina colada," she stammered. He smiled warmly and plucked the drink from the tray, handing it to her. He took one for himself, and clinked it against her glass.

"Cheers," he said.

"Thanks," she whispered, swallowing a slip to steady her shaking knees. Shock of shocks, she had kissed her host!

"Paul! You son of a gun, where the hell did you run off too?" Gene Simmons asked as he wandered over, with Shannon Tweed on one arm, and Cheryl on his other.

"Just taking care of some party business," he winked at Gene.

"Julia, are you okay?" Shannon tweed asked her. "Is Paul taking good care of you?"

"Uh yes," she chuckled. Paul's grip on her waist tightened and he took a swig of champagne. She couldn't help but watch the muscles in his neck as he sampled his drink.

"Stop drooling over her and let him get on with it," Shannon urged, tugging Gene with her.

"Force of habit," he laughed. "Where were you hiding, sweet thing?"

He picked up Julia's hand, giving the back a kiss. She laughed, and flushed deeply, pushed so casually in with such celebrities. Paul laughed and said, "She's Julia. She's an aesthetician, and my date for the evening, aren't you?"

"Uh huh," Gene laughed. "Some guys have ALL the luck..."

"I know," Paul laughed back. "So, you rascal, you really brought the whole damn state of Hawaii here, didn't you?"

"All except the surfers," Gene mock saluted him. "Carry on!"

"Will do," Paul nodded as Gene and Shannon sailed away to talk to other guests. Julia watched them circulate the party before she felt Paul tugging her away with him.

"It was Gene's idea, wasn't it," she said, trying to steady her new nervousness with light conversation.

"He does know how to throw parties, doesn't he?" Paul asked. "Would you like to get something to eat? I'm sure there is still plenty of cracked crab left..."

He released her waist and took her hand instead, leading her to the fully stocked buffet. A galaxy of fresh fruits awaited them, alongside a massive platter of shrimps, a full steam table heating Alaskan king crab legs in a metal container, and many other delights. Attendants kept the fresh bounty moving, complete with real china plates and the finest in service. When she had first come in, she had been so nervous she hadn't eaten much, so she gladly accepted the plate he offered her, and began to fill it. Paul took a few carefully chosen entrees for himself and piled them on top of her plate.

"What are you doing?" she laughed. "I thought you were getting your own?"

"It's hard to eat crab legs gracefully while holding a plate," he joked, with a wink. "Hope you don't mind..."

He asked her to hold the plate while he deftly applied the crackers to one crab leg and extracted the meat. Instead of eating it himself, he popped a morsel of it into her mouth, after dipping it in butter sauce. Together they shared their bounty, feeding one another, while Julia struggled to avoid getting butter sauce and fruit juice on herself and Paul.

"Oh damn I'm sorry," she yelped when a dollop landed on Paul's Hawaiian shirt.

"Hey it's okay, it'll wash," he reassured her. "Why don't you finish up, and I'll change it. Just wait RIGHIT here... don't go away..."

She shivered with mingled relief and delight when he leaned over and kissed her right on the lips, pulling her hips close to his. A moment later he left her there with the rest of the food, disappearing into the crowd. He only stopped a bit to say hi to some other guests while he trotted up the stairs.

Julia sank into an available chair, and sighed. This seemed unreal enough, so she pinched herself. Surely, enough she was wide-awake, and mildly buzzed from the effects of the pina colada. Eagerly she set to work on the rest of the food, not caring how much she ate. After all, it was nice to have her appetite back.

"There you are, I've been looking for you," Chad said, interrupting her as she finished the last of her cracked crab.

"I'm surprised you even noticed me," she muttered, not bothering to look him in the face.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know I'm going to be leaving soon," he said slowly. "And I think you should come with me."

"Why bother?" she asked, glancing up at him. "I mean since you have the AUDACITY to even SPEAK to me now after the shit you pulled!"

"Look, I was mad, okay?" he asked. "Can't you let a guy have a break? Look... I'm sorry okay? Can we just go back and forget it?"

"Are you sure you want to come home with ME, and not your little FRIEND?" Julia asked, plunking down her plate.

"Are you eating again? That will blow your diet for sure," he said, resting a hand on his hip.

"Oh shut up," she snapped. "Why do you even give a shit? You said I should try my techniques on myself..."

"You called Michaela a bitch," he said.

"I said as I recalled, 'who is this hussy and why are you paying attention to HER instead of me!" she shot back.

"She was just a passing fancy, nothing more," he said. "Look, I told you how it is. I was mad at you, so naturally a guy sometimes makes mistakes."

"Like the mistake you've been making the past three months? Chad, I'm NOT stupid! Don't think I didn't notice you coming home LATE every night for the past three months SMELLING of perfume, and then when I want to have SEX you say you're too damn tired! And then you sometimes have the NERVE to say how damn GOOD you look, and that I should shed forty pounds so you don't look EMBARASSED next to me!"

"Is it WRONG to look good for your man?" he asked. "I'm asking you to take CARE of yourself..."

"Why, so I can look like HER?" she asked. "I'm not a freaking beanpole and I'll NEVER be, so get USED to it!"

"I do what I want to, and you have the NERVE to question me?" he laughed throwing up his hands. "When I let you move in! You wouldn't BE living in the HILLS if I didn't take you IN... And get you that job through my contacts! So you should be begging me for my forgiveness instead of accusing me!"

"Shut the hell up," she yelled at him. "I'm SICK of your crap, and I'm sick of you treating me like I'm less then nothing! You know its called emotional abuse, and I'm not TAKING it anymore!"

"Abuse? Excuse the fuck me? I haven't laid a HAND on you!"

"You've hurt me enough... with your little girlfriends on the side. Don't look so shocked. Molly told me earlier how you got intimate with that model during the shoot of the latest music video. Don't try to deny it. And then you're HERE with her... this Michaela. What's wrong, am I not GOOD enough for you?"

"All right, you want to know? I DID sleep with her," he rested his hand on his hip. "But it was just because you couldn't do it for me. Is it any WONDER? If you'd just stop eating like a goddamn PIG I MIGHT want to make love to you!"

"You're so full of shit you squeak," she laughed. "Go screw yourself or Michaela or whoever. Cause we're THROUGH!"

She picked up the rest of her pina colada, and grabbed the front of his pants. Pulling the waist out, she tipped the ice down them, and turned her back on him. He shouted, "Mother fucker!" and grabbed her wrist, yanking her back.

"Let me go!" she napped. "It's OVER!"

"Don't you walk away from me!" he yelled. "How DARE you embarrass me in front of all these people!"

"Get your shit out of my apartment by tonight, or I'll put it on the driveway tomorrow," she spat in his face, twisting her wrist out of his grasp and pushing him back. "I don't' want to see your nasty face again, you hear?"

"It's my fucking apartment, and you belong to me! Face it, what other man would put up with you? I'll throw YOU out first, and make you BEG to take me back to teach you some manners!"

"Really?" said a tenor voice. By now, they had gathered an audience, and he saw Gene Simmons himself standing there with his hands on his hips.

"Shit," Chad got out, still holding Julie by the front of her dress.

"I think you've said enough," Gene said slowly. "Let her go now, or I'll rearrange your face. You have no RIGHT to put your hands on her, got it?"

"Gene, it was just a joke," he laughed pathetically. Just then Paul Stanley came down the stairs and pushed through the throng of silent guests who were glaring at the scene.

"What the HELL is going on here?" Paul shouted. "Who's messing up my party?"

"This little creep was putting his hands on your date," Gene said slowly.

"Is that true?" Paul asked.

"She came with me, and we're going now," Chad said quickly. He grabbed Julie's hand and started to drag her away.

"Let me go!" Julie screamed, and turned around, her hand raking across Chad's face.

"Shit, mother fucker!" he hissed, backing away as he spat blood. "You see how you embarrassed me... and now you're trying to seduce my boss? You have no shame, do you Julie?"

"I suggest you leave NOW," Paul said firmly, grabbing Chad by the front of his shirt as he got between Julie and her ex boyfriend. "And don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"But she ruined your party, I was just..." he stammered.

"Don't bother to say another word," Gene warned him. "And by the way, you're fired."

Shock filled Chad's face when he realized the gravity of his actions. "But Gene..."

"You lay your hands on a woman, you're out on your ass," Gene growled.

"Fine. She's yours," he said. "You're welcome to the little tramp. No skin off my nose."

Paul took one threatening step toward him, and he bolted. Partygoers parted like the Red Sea to let him pass. Julie stood there, panting as she watched him leave, everyone staring at her. She felt like she wanted the floor to swallow her up.

"I'm so sorry I messed up your party," she said slowly.

"Nothing to see here people," Paul said, waving them away. "Go back and have fun. I apologize for that moron and his actions..."

"Are we gonna let that loser spoil Paul's party?" Gene asked, glancing around anxiously. "Are we?"

"No way!" people chorused.

"So MINGLE already!" Gene waved his hand. The music suddenly blared on again, and everyone resumed his or her conversation.

"Why don't we go somewhere private?" Paul asked, taking Julie's hand and nodding toward the stairs. She noticed he had changed into a simple white button up shirt along with comfortable bluejeans. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she let him lead her up the grand flight to the second floor, where a few people happened to be milling around. He opened the door to one particular room, and urged her inside. She gasped when she saw the wealth of guitars lining the high ceilinged walls.

"Quite a collection you have here," she mused, glancing around the small studio, with highly waxed hardwood floors. Recording machines and stools sat at intervals with microphones and a few guitars in stands beside them.

"I like to think it's pretty comprehensive," Paul said. "Why don't you sit down and relax. Looks like you're pretty shaken up..."

"Shit Mr. Stanley, I don't know WHY I let that asshole push me around... Molly TOLD me it was emotional abuse but it didn't click till now!" she fretted, turning her back on him and pacing the floor. She hugged herself, closing her eyes in anger and shame.

"Whoa now WAIT a minute," Paul said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Don't dump on yourself. Sometimes people don't' realize how abusive a relationship can be even when they're in one... look at me. I..."

She turned to look at him and saw him shut his mouth so firmly his jaw wobbled a bit with the tension. Paul sighed and regarded her, noticing how sad her dark blue eyes looked, and how much he wished that he could kiss away the tears. Yet he sensed to do so would freak her more then she already seemed.

Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Well I was in what I thought was a good marriage. But in the end, it wasn't good for Linda or me. I just didn't' want to admit it was over. It wasn't so much abusive as we finally found we didn't live in the same world anymore. But we kept trying to make it work for the sake of our son."

"I hear that..." she sighed, not working up the courage to tell him what was on the tip of her tongue. "My parents blame me for shacking up with Chad. But I guess I wanted a man who'd made a good husband and father..."

"Hey I don't blame you. It's okay..." Paul said, taking her hands. "I think you need to stop blaming yourself. You've got a lot going for you," Paul told her. "And I hate seeing an attractive girl like you upset."

"But Mr. Stanley, his name is on the lease. I have no place to go. And in light of how he just acted..."

"I have an idea," Paul said. "I am not always here in the apartment. I'm building a home in Beverly Hills, and soon I'll be moving out in about a month or two. What would you say to living here as a guest in my home? When I am on tour you're welcome to stay, because I'm not much here anyway. And when I move out, you could take over the rent..."

"But he might sabotage my job."

"So what? I've got a surgeon who's done work for Gene, and me. You could work for him... or better yet, I can help you find a job you might find more fufilling..."

"You're doing this for a woman you hardly know," she said slowly.

"I'm trying to help out a woman I want to consider a friend," Paul said dismissively. "And I'm not doing it just because I'm trying to snow you or get you in bed, despite what Chad insinuated."

"Thank you," she said slowly.

"I have friends stay here all the time. I have a guestroom, and you'd be just staying with me till I move out. So who cares what anyone thinks. You have to get OUT of that place before he THROWS you out."

"But my things... I have a d... I have a pet dog that I need to keep..."

"I can arrange to have my guys move them into storage. And my dobermen Buster wouldn't mind. Besides, my son brings his dog Bogie here all the time,adn they get along fine. It's no problem really... and I can have Andre take you over so you can get some clothing tomorrow and get your doggie... but for tonight you'll be staying with ME after the party."

"Are you sure, Mr. Stanley?"

"Let's get a few things straight," he said with a slow smile. "One thing, come on over here because you SERIOUSLY look like you could use a hug, a platonic one..."

He held out his arms to her, and she went to him. She sighed deeply with relief when those strong arms closed around her protectively, his hands stroking her back as they did before in the darkness. Before she knew it was he, and he was just a concerned stranger offering a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on.

"What's number two?" she asked.

"Call me Paul. Everyone does," he laughed, rocking her slowly. She smiled slightly as he stroked her wavy hair, light brown and streaked with honey blond highlights. For a moment she gasped when he undid the clip and let it fall around her shoulders. His fingers reached in and massaged her scalp, which she didn't realize was aching because of pulling the hair up into the tight French twist with just a few tendrils hanging fashionably around her face. His nose buried in her hair, smelling her scents, the shampoo and coconut smell of her conditioner and hairspray. Obviously a woman with intelligence and something sad she was concealing. Intelligence due to the fact she was an aesthetician, but in his inquiries, he had learned it was a license built on top of a bachelor in nursing. What other mysteries made those blue eyes so sad, he wondered. Would she let him get close enough to find out? For someone who made a living out of giving the rich and famous their looks, she seemed miserable. Even though, she had little to worry about. She was the first real woman he'd seen in a long time, and he was secretly glad she hadn't used her learned attributes on herself.

"Feels so good," she murmured. For the gentle swaying had yielded to dancing to the music that drifted from the party down below.

"What was that baby?" he asked.

"OH nothing..."

"Another thing, speak up because I'd love to know what's going on in that pretty head of yours," he teased lightly, squeezing her to himself.

"I was just saying how good this felt," she repeated, gathering her courage. "To be held, and just to dance... slow like this..."

"Like I said before, we can't disappoint the host, can we?"

"Well considering it's Gene who threw this shindig..." she began. "Wouldn't he be disappointed you're up here with me instead of downstairs mixing with your guests?"

"But it's MY party," he chuckled. "And I'll dance with whomever I want to."

************

One by one the guests left, and Paul was downstairs with his 'date' to see them off. When the last had left, the caterers were quickly cleaning up, with help from Christine.

"Will you want me here tomorrow?" she asked Paul.

"Sure thing. Is the guestroom still ready?" he asked. "Miss Bryce will be staying here tonight..."

"You sure you want the guestroom?" she asked.

"I'm very sure," Paul nodded to her. "Can you show her the way? Get her some fresh towels and a nightgown and anything else she needs to make herself comfortable? I have to talk to Andre about a little project..."

"Sure," Christine said. Paul smiled and motioned to Julia that she should go with his maid.

"She'll get you settled in," he urged. "Have a GOOD night's sleep..."

"Thank you Paul," she smiled. Paul caught her hand gently and pulled her close for a soft kiss. He clenched her tightly in a reassuring hug before releasing her.

"Sleep well," Paul winked. Christine led Julia upstairs to the third landing, where there were several doors. Apparently, he had his music studio on the second, with a small office, and the bedrooms on the third. There was a small room to the right, whose door was partly open, and she saw cute power rangers posters and buzz light-year sheets on the bed. Obviously Evan's room, for when he visited. Another door across from the main stairs was where Christine led her.

"This is the guestroom. I'll fetch you some towels and the bathroom is right here. I'll find you a nightgown...and if you want a shower there are towels, soap and shampoo by the tub... make yourself comfortable. There's fresh sheets on the bed..."

"Thanks," she said. "What did you mean about that one comment..."

"It's just a surprise. I thought since you and Paul were here," she winked. "Don't' worry, I'm only teasing. He's a perfect gentleman. You have NOTHIGN to worry about..."

"Don't you live here?"

"ME?" she chuckled. "I live a few blocks down with my husband George... he's sometimes a chauffeur for Paul..."

"You mean he lives alone?" she asked.

"Pretty much. I cook and clean for him, but that's when he's here. There's a gardener, and the security guard that patrols. But since this is a gated community, he's safe. And you are too, so just get yourself a nice hot shower. You want any tea before you get some rest?"

"No I'm fine..."

"Relax, you're a guest here," Christine smiled, leading her to the guestroom. Opening the door, she showed her the nice queen sized bed opposite two dressers and a 19-inch color TV and VCR. The furnishings were mahogany, in a Mediterranean style, comfortable and classic. She took the towels that Christine extracted from the closet, and followed the maid to the lavish guest bathroom, set with a shower and tub, and twin sinks. Marble and rose colored tile met her eyes along with a faint rose scent to the air from potpourri in a small ivory china bowl.

"He took my suggestion," she laughed. "Shampoo, conditioner, soap... all there..."

"Thanks," Julia smiled as Christine patted her on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Make yourself at home... I'll turn down the bed... and get you a robe..."

Julia did just that, shedding her sundress and starting the water for a hot shower. She found everything she wanted and quickly cleaned herself off from the exertions of her long day. When at last she was ready, she noticed the silk robe hanging over the door hook for her. Was it left from one of Paul's previous lovers, she wondered? Whoever it was from, it was clean and fresh, along with the modest cotton nightgown accompanying it. She half thought he'd slip her some sexy negligee.

Donning the nightclothes she wandered into her adopted bedroom, and slid between the cool crisp sheets. Her head hit the feather pillow, and she fumbled for the ornate Victorian lamp to shut it off. Before long she turned over on her side and sighed with relief at the roomy bed that embraced her. How wonderful it was to sleep alone for a change, she reflected.

As she slid into sleep, she was aware of someone's voice speaking to Christine. It sounded like Paul coming up the stairs. For a moment the door cracked slightly, and she glimpsed his sillouhette leaning in. Footsteps sounded as she heard him approach the bed, and tensed. His hands reached out, and she froze. Slowly he straightened her comforter, and she felt a soft kiss on her cheek with the words "Good night, baby," whispered in her ear. As she turned over, she realized he was no longer there.

***

She next was aware of the bed around her, and the soft sheets. Blissfully alone and able to stretch, she did so, hugging the mattress with her body for a moment. Then it registered where she was, and she turned over to look at the digital alarm clock. Its red numerals read half past ten, and she sat bold upright. It was a Saturday. Visitation would be tomorrow, and how would she explain her absence to Paul?

Spreading aside her covers, she swung her feet round and planted them into a pair of isotoner slippers to one side of the bed she'd found. Getting up, she reached for the robe she'd worn last night, and thought she would wander downstairs to see if she could glimpse her host in his morning routine. She trotted downstairs and found her way through his large sitting room to the dining area, and sizeable kitchen. Breakfast was set out, and she noticed Christine busily at work making pancakes and refilling the coffeemaker.

"Hi sleepyhead," Paul said, from the breakfast nook. He had a cup of steaming beverage, and the loose blue velvet robe covered his body. She glimpsed his bare legs, and struggled to keep her eyes from wandering over their fine muscular contours. To his left was a newspaper, and the television was switched on by the stove.

"Good morning," she said shyly, adjusting her robe.

"Want some breakfast?" Paul asked. "I didn't want to wake you, cause you seemed like you needed the rest, baby."

"What will it be?" Christine asked. "I can make pancakes or crepes, your choice..."

"Sit down and take the load off... I think there's some tea left," Paul invited her with a friendly wave of his hand to sit opposite him. Christine, who turned back to the griddle again to pour the pancake batter, quickly set a second place.

"Wow, you're going to a lot of trouble," she laughed.

"Not everyday I have such beautiful company to have Christine cook for me. Usually it's just coffee and toast," he shrugged. "Now will you make me eat all these strawberries myself or what?"

"I guess you drive a hard bargain mister," she laughed, as he loaded a bowl of fresh fruit and put it before her. Christine set down a plate of pancakes, and she started to help herself tot hem. Reduced calorie syrup was available, and she quickly doused her short stack with the brown liquid, and the 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter'.

"I do," he winked. "Now, if you want to work out at all, you're perfectly welcome to use my workout room, and there's the pool..."

"I well... don't really do it that much..."

"Just letting you know it's available. And by the way, I was wondering if you wanted to go over with Andre and pick up your things today..."

"OH GOD," she gasped. "I totally forgot..."

She leapt up, but Paul's hand on her wrist startled her. "Wait a moment, eat something first..."

"What if he's thrown my stuff into the street... I can't just..."

"Hey it's okay... if you really want to go now, I can have Christine keep it warm for you..."

"Please?" she asked.

"Sure, let me just call Andre. And while I'm doing that, you can EAT something."

She sighed in surrender while Paul pointed to her plate. Slowly she began to eat the delicious breakfast while he walked over and picked up the cordless phone, dialing a number he knew by heart. Christine moved over, refilled her tea, and placed a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice next to it. She discreetly heard Paul as he spoke to whoever it was on the phone. By the time he hung up and returned she had cleared her plate.

"See it wasn't THAT hard was it, Baby?" he teased. "I've got Andre at the movers with a truck, and once we get dressed, you and I can head over right away..."

"You don't HAVE to come..."

"What and let you possibly face that psycho alone? I don't think so," Paul shook his head. "Now did you have enough..."

"I don't really have a change of clothes," she blushed.

"No problem," Paul said. "I think I have something that could work. If you don't mind sweatpants and a T shirt..."

"You don't have to," she laughed. "I can wear my sundress..."

"We'll see," Paul winked, and squeezed her hand in a friendly manner. "Now, let's get going..."

As she rose from the table, she felt a friendly hand on her rear, giving it a playful smack. She turned in sudden shock, eyes wide and foreboding. Paul drew back and suddenly apologized, "Oh god I'm sorry... I didn't mean... it was just a... force of habit..."

Her anger and resentment suddenly was held in check by the genuine apology in the dark eyes. He hated seeing the tears that suddenly sprung, and shuffled uncomfortably. Taking a deep breath, Julia suddenly said, "Paul... it's okay... look I'm just not used to that..."

"It wasn't to hurt you," he murmured, turning away. "It's just a force of habit. I promise it wont' happen again..."

Tears still in her eyes, she walked over to him and hugged him tightly, burying her head in his chest. He held her close, fingering her hair softly as he stroked her back. His soft kiss to the top of her head undid her, and it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist at that moment. She leaned up and tried a tentative kiss to his shapely lips, resting her arms around his neck. Paul suddenly started in surprise, taken off guard by her gesture of conciliation.

"Are you sure you're okay I mean I AM sorry," he said, after she pulled away from the brief but sweet kiss.

"I am okay," she breathed, trying to steady her fast beating heart.

"You had me worried there. I want to be straight with you, I won't do ANYTHING to hurt you, and you know that? And if I do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, you tell me okay?"

"I will," she nodded, starting to pull reluctantly away from him. Yet, he pulled her back into the embrace, rubbing her arms lightly.

"Good," he nodded.

"This is going to sound silly, but would it be so bad if I kissed you again?" she blushed. "I mean..."

"I'd love that," he winked. "But do me a favor and relax baby... you ARE allowed to enjoy it, and take your sweet time...the MORE the better..."

Smiling shyly, she leaned up on her toes again and looped her arms behind his head. She closed her eyes and leaned up to touch her lips to his again. Paul's lips descended automatically and claimed hers, his hands resting at her waist to give it a reassuring squeeze. A wave of warmth spread over her in that instant and she focussed on just how good it felt in his arms, his lips moving over hers with a precision that blew her away. Something grew in potential between them and she felt her fears and anxieties suddenly evaporate as his tongue flickered over her lips, gently teasing at hers. She shivered and moaned, then finding his tongue exploring her mouth, and tasting her for the first time.

It was enough to make her weak in the knees, and he caught her as she almost lost her balance. "Oh god," she moaned, despite her efforts to stop it.

"Wow," Paul commented, when the kiss ended. "If we don't get moving soon, I don't' think I'll want to leave this kitchen..."

"I... uh..." she stammered, her face flushing with momentary embarrassment at the sudden passion she felt pulsing in her veins. It was unlike anything she had before experienced.

"Hey, don't feel ashamed, I thought that was great," he smiled sweetly, stroking her back. "Why are you suddenly so shy?"

"Because you're making me feel things I haven't... for a long time," she panted, hiding her face in his chest.

"Bad or good?" Paul asked, stroking her cheek lightly.

"I'm not sure, but it does feel good," she whispered. "But..."

"There's no rush," he whispered, hugging her gently. "I'll go as fast or slow as you want..."

"Hem," Christine coughed. "Sorry to interrupt, but I think Andre's here with the movers..."

"Sorry," she blushed, shirking out of Paul's embrace.

"Don't be," he whispered. "I liked that. There's NO shame in kissing someone in their kitchen... and I hope it's not the last time baby... now let's get your things, baby..."

***

The truck pulled up to the apartment, and Julia let out a cry of alarm. Over the front lawn were strewn clothes, bits of furniture, and all sorts of memorabilia. Tears formed in her eyes, and an angry word escaped her lips as she pounded the dashboard in frustration, "That son of a BITCH!"

"Oh man," Paul gasped.

"I fucking HATE him!" she screamed, burying her head in her lap.

"Easy there, we're here to clean it up," he urged, catching hold of her hand and squeezing it. "If we work fast we'll get as much as we can."

"My things," she sobbed, as Paul got out of the car, and gestured to Andre and the movers. They pulled alongside the street, the truck doors opening to disgorge the moving crew. They pulled out boxes and dollies, quickly moving into action to round up the strewn belongings littering the front lawn of the town house and driveway.

Paul held her in his arms, and walked her up to the thick of the mess. He whispered, "Is everything here?"

"I don't know... my art supplies... my pictures... oh god he threw EVERYTHIGN out like it was trash..."

"Well you make sure you look CAREFULLY and if there is ANYTHING missing I'll make sure to make not e of it. Andre, do you have a camera handy?"

Andre pulled out a disposable camera and began to take pictures of the mess before the garments; photos, books and other items were carefully put into boxes. Julia took a deep breath and broke away from Paul, slowly picking through the debris. Paul wasn't sure if he should help or not, but settled the question by slowly gathering up a set of photo albums, trying not to look at the pictures.

Just then, someone emerged from the apartment, and Paul moved to stand next to her protectively. "That's just my neighbor," she said.

"OH god, I saw him throwing it all out! Jules, are you okay?" the elderly woman asked. "I couldn't stop him..."

"Mrs. Gonzales... I'm so angry I could spit..."

"I've been watching it, and didn't touch a thing. Sent the nosy people away. Kept it all up till you got back, where on EARTH have you been?"

"She's been staying with me," Paul said quickly. "She filled me in..."

"This is Mr. Stanley, a friend," she said hastily, introducing Paul. "This is my next door neighbor... Mrs. Rita Gonzales..."

"That nasty man... I woke up to see him throwing this poor girls things out the door, and I tried to stop him but he yelled at me something fierce. So, I just watched him from inside till he ran out of things to throw away. I'm so sorry I didn't stop him... I called the police... and by the time they got here he was gone..."

"Good," said Paul. "I trust they took a report..."

"Yes. They said they'd come back when Jules came home... and asked me not to touch anything till she accounted for her belongings..."

"IT won't mess it up that I'm having movers pack it up will it? Paul asked.

"Not at all. They took pictures already..."

"Good," Paul nodded. "Thanks..."

"Where ARE you moving?"

"In with a friend," she said quickly. "Mr. Stanley's helping me out... till I figure out..."

"I'd say let the police evict him. Once I tell this to the landlord..." Mrs. Gonzales clicked her tongue. Her sundress swished around her legs, the housecoat covering most of the floral print to the toes of her fuzzy slippers.

"Do me a favor and don't," she sighed. "I don't' want him to have any CLUE where I might be..."

"I hope you're leaving that horrible man," she sighed. "Mother Mary I cringed every time I heard you two fight... esp..."

"I know," she said. "But it will stop..."

"I promise," Paul nodded. "So you've been watching her things all this time?"

"The really valuable things I managed to take into my apartment," she said. "If you come with me, I have your jewelry and treasures..."

"Thank GOD!" she sighed.

Paul marveled at the small but neat apartment, gently taking Julia's hand as she led him upstairs. There they saw a wealth of KISS merchandise hastily piled onto her sofa and kitchen table. It blew Paul away to see how much was accumulated.

"You are a fan," he blushed.

"I didn't want you to think I was using you for something otherwise," she blushed. "I have been a fan since I was eight..."

"I'm flattered," Paul smiled shyly. He smiled as he picked up the Paul Stanley Destroyer Doll, left perched on the high chair beside the kitchen table, and handed it to her.

"I take it nobody wanted this?" he winked.

"Thank GOD I didn't have that stolen," she sighed.

"Indeed," he smiled, and stroked her cheek.

"Can I offer you anything while the police come?" she asked. "Soda, juice, tea?"

"Tea would be great," Julia smiled.

"Have a seat on the sofa and make yourselves at homes dears," she offered, wandering into her kitchen. "Jules knows where the phone is..."