Ch4

"No shit!" Tiffany Walters shrieked, making Brianna cringe with surprise. "You had sex with the Brooks Kennedy after the award's show? How the hell did you manage to pull that one off? And more importantly, why am I just now finding out about it?"

"Would you be quiet? Daddy might hear you!" Brianna leaned in and whispered fiercely toward her stepmother's overly made-up face. As naturally pretty as Tiffany was, she loved to cover it up with twenty pounds of Clinque, causing her to look much older than her twenty-five years -- something Brianna knew she could never say out loud. God, her father's fourth wife could be so aggravating sometimes, just as annoying as some of her high school friends.

"You need to tell me every last detail, Brianna! I cannot believe you lost your virginity to a pop-star!"

Brianna leaned back into the plush, leather couch and rewarded Tiffany with a smug smile. She had to admit, choosing Brooks to have sex with for her very first time was ingenious. Not only was he unbelievably hot, he was mega famous, too. How would she ever be able to top sleeping with the lead singer of one of the hottest boy bands in the world?

"Did you -- you know -- enjoy it?" Tiffany asked with a raised eyebrow.

"If you mean, 'did I have an orgasm', then yes, I did -- I think," Brianna admitted, giving the long-haired, bleached-blonde a satisfied grin.

"Oh my God! I do not believe this!" Tiffany exclaimed in obvious awe. She fanned her face with one manicured hand in an apparent attempt to cool off.  "You have amazing luck, that's all I can say."

"It's not luck at all," Brianna bragged. "Brooks actually likes me. He's supposed to call today."

"You've got to be kidding me!" her stepmother gasped, bright eyes wide as saucers. "But what about your father?"

"What about my father?" Brianna challenged. "He's never going to know because he's never going to find out."

Tiffany rolled her baby-blues and flashed a skeptical smirk. "Yeah, that's exactly what you said about the last one, remember? Poor Anthony Agosti hasn't even worked in this town since your father found the two of you making out in the pool house," she accused, referring to the young theater star who's budding career was killed by Brianna's irate father. She'd been horrified when her father had walked in on the two of them getting cozy together after a late evening swim. He'd threatened to end Anthony's career for trying to "molest" his daughter, and had done exactly that. Anthony was forced to move back home to New Jersey and back in with his parents. He had never called her again.

"This is different," Brianna urged, tossing wavy honey-colored hair over one shoulder with conviction. "This is Brooks Kennedy we're talking about. There's no way I'm going to let Daddy ruin this for me. I'm seventeen-years-old, old enough to have a boyfriend, that's for sure. And if Daddy doesn't like it, than oh well! He is so not the boss of me--I'm practically an adult!"

"Well," Tiffany began wisely, "He is sort of the boss of you. You're a minor and he's your father, plus you live under his roof. I'm afraid he still has total control over you and your actions until you turn eighteen."

"Not if I divorce him," Brianna answered back dramatically. She'd never actually thought about it before, but why not?

"What?! You can't divorce your father!"

Brianna rolled her eyes again. Seriously, Tiffany could be so dense sometimes. "Yes, I can. It's called emancipation, and I'm sure I could find a lawyer willing to help me."

Tiffany twisted a chunk of white-blonde hair around a perfectly polished finger. "And how do you think you'll survive on your own if you become emancipated from your father?" she questioned pompously. "If you think he'll continue to give you money and support your shopping addiction you better think again! You'd be cut off faster than a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck. And you can say goodbye to that pretty, red Ferrari."

Brianna shrugged nonchalantly. "Like I care. I'm sure Brooks has plenty of money. I won't need Daddy's," she retorted. "Plus, I'll have access to my trust fund as soon as I turn twenty-one. He can't take that away."

Tiffany let out a sensational sigh. "You really think Brooks is planning on being exclusive with you? I'm sure he's sleeping with half of California -- believe me! I've been around the block a time or two before your father, you know," she eluded mysteriously.

Brianna was starting to get irritated. Tiffany had no idea what she was talking about. Brooks loved her, he told her so -- right before he had an orgasm. That only drove the point home, as far as she was concerned. Everyone knew men were most honest when they were at their highest point of vulnerability. And when he called her today, they would work out all of those little, annoying details. She was certain he would welcome her into his home with open arms, if need be. And Daddy wouldn't be able to stop her.

This was only the beginning, Brianna could feel it. Brooks had no idea what she had in store for him. But he was about to find out . . .

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

Miller reached over in bed and picked up a thick strand of Claire's hair. He twirled the silky, brunette lock around his finger and gently smacked it across her cheek. "Are you asleep?" he whispered.

Claire opened one eye and grinned. "Not anymore." She snuggled closer to him, allowing herself to be swallowed up in his inviting embrace. "What are doing awake already? It's not even noon yet," she teased, glancing at the bedside clock.

Miller leaned in closer and kissed the tip of her nose. "I can't sleep, I've got a lot on my mind."

"The screenplay?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She knew it'd been weighing on him recently and it seemed as if he might finally be ready to open up to her about it.

"Yes, the screenplay," he responded with a sigh. For the past six months he'd been writing his first movie script called Runaway, a story inspired by the numerous teenage fugitives living on the streets of Hollywood. When he wasn't slaving over the details of the story he spent the majority of his free time worrying about it. "The rewriting has me freaked out. I'm ready to throw in the towel."

"Don't you dare!" Claire threatened. "Your story is eye-opening and profound. It needs to be told. No one ever said this would be easy."

"I know, I just never imagined it would be so hard! I've been in show business most of my life. You'd think writing a story would come naturally at this point."

Claire looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think that's true. Telling a story takes an unbelievable amount of talent, especially telling a story as haunting as the one you're creating. I can't imagine too many things being more difficult, to be perfectly honest."

He gave her a smile and pulled her tighter to him. Claire closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying his clean, masculine scent. There were certain things in life that brought her comfort and being in Miller's arms was at the very top of that list.

"You're extremely gifted, Miller, " she continued. "And there's no doubt in my mind that this script will be amazing. Do you think you'll take it to Ashton when it's finished? Maybe RedHead Productions would be interested in producing it?"

Miller shook his head. "I would rather not. I'd always think she took it on because we're friends and not because she actually liked it."

Claire shook her head in disagreement. "I don't think she would do that. You know how honest Ashton is. She'd let you know right away if it wasn't right for her company."

But he didn't look convinced. "I just can't trust that, I would always wonder 'what if'. Maybe I should take it to Jonathon Walters when the time comes? But it's nowhere near ready to even think about that yet."

"Whatever you want to do I'll support. I think you're brilliant, and I also believe that whoever you decide to take your story to will think the same thing."

"Alright." He chuckled softly as he dropped his hand to the small of her back, allowing his fingers to trail slowly up her spine. "Enough talk about me. What do you want to do today?"

Claire closed whatever tiny gap they had left between the two of them. "Exactly what we're doing right now," she murmured happily against his chest.

"What--lying here doing nothing?"

"Exactly. This is the perfect way to spend the day."

"Then, tell me something," he asked slowly, reaching his hand around and cupping her butt cheek. "Would you be opposed if I put my hand here? And maybe the other hand here?" he suggested, moving his free hand toward her bare breast.

Claire bit her lip. "I wouldn't be opposed at all. In fact, I'll one up you," she said, rolling on top of him and straddling his hips.

Miller stretched his toned arms up and folded them behind his head. "I love it when you take charge," he responded with interested eyes and a lazy smile. "Maybe I'll let you do all of the work this time."

"You let me do all of the work and you'll find yourself alone in the kitchen making dinner tonight," she threatened playfully.

"Touché," he countered, just before his mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss.

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

Juliana Santiago stretched her manicured toes out in front of her as she lounged on the poolside chaise at her Westside apartment. Her coffee-colored eyes took in the many tanned bodies around her, recognizing several famous faces taking it easy in the warn, California sun.  She wore the tiniest of bikinis, large tinted sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, careful not to get too much sun on her perfectly structured face-her modeling agency frowned upon that. She knew how important it was to take special care of her skin, but how could she refuse enjoying a lazy late morning nap by the pool?

A throng of scantily-clad sun seekers decorated the swimming area, while several more enjoyed the hedge-hidden yoga lawn next to the pool, making the outdoor area appear rather crowded, unusual for that time of day. Everyone seemed to be buzzing over the award ceremony that took place the night before. Most of the people surrounding her had attended the show, and the few that hadn't were getting caught up on their celebrity, after-party gossip, anxious to hear what they had missed.

Juliana leaned off to the side, her designer sun-glassed eyes searching for the security guards that were hired to patrol the area, and she was happy to find them all in their places carefully watching the activity around them. It wasn't cheap living in the paparazzi-proof apartment complex complete with all of its luxurious amenities, and she wanted to make sure she was getting what she paid for. Having grown up poor in Barranquilla, Colombia, Juliana had never aborted her thrifty mind-set of ensuring she got the most for every hard-earned red penny she spent-even now that she had money to burn.

She leaned back in her chaise lounge, allowing the sun to soak into her naturally bronzed skin. Boy, would her agent throw an absolute fit if she knew what she was up to! Oh well, Juliana didn't care. She didn't owe that heifer anything. It was not a secret there was no love lost between Juliana and her overbearing booking agent, but the sad truth was they needed each other. As much as they hated to admit it, they'd each made the other a lot of cash over the years, and everyone knew money made the world go around.

Vivian Landsbury had taken Juliana under her wing immediately after she'd been discovered by a photographer, walking on a Colombian beach at the tender age of eleven. The agent had promptly moved the young novice to California and proceeded to flood her with offers for modeling and television work, making Juliana's impoverished family very happy, very happy indeed. Neither one of her parents had particularly high-paying jobs, and with seven kids between the two of them the extra income Juliana's new career provided didn't hurt.

The Spanish beauty was sent to live with distant cousins in San Fernando Valley in exchange for the small, monthly price of half her earnings, while the other half of her salary was sent back home to her parents and siblings in Columbia. The more work she found, the happier everyone was-except for Juliana. Even as a child, she could tell how money-hungry the adults in her life were, and as soon as she was legally able to, she'd moved out on her own without so much as a goodbye. Over the years, she had managed to repair the rocky relationship she'd had with her parents, and now they shared a mutual love and respect toward one another, although deep down she knew she still harbored a tiny grudge. How could she not? She felt she'd been forced into a business she had no desire to be in, making money off of the way she looked.

When the television show Paradise Cove first presented itself as a possible opportunity, her agent Vivian Landsbury had all but disregarded it. It was Juliana who had fought tooth and nail for the audition. The thought of appearing on a weekly drama and knowing exactly where she would be and who she would be working with on a regular basis sounded extremely appealing to her. Every God-given instinct had told the then thirteen-year-old that working on the TV show was where she belonged, and she'd been right. She convinced Vivian to let her audition for the role and had won it hands down. Juliana quickly acclimated to the cast and crew and had finally found the big, happy family she had been missing out on. It amazed her that seven years later those tight bonds the cast had made were still in place, a very unusual phenomenon in Hollywood where the motto was typically "love 'em and leave 'em".

Of all of the people in her life, Juliana was particularly close with Ashton Montgomery. The two had become fast best friends when Paradise Cove first began filming, and they remained that way to this day. As unlikely as their friendship seemed, they'd made it work; one girl having grown up privileged in a big, American city, and the other from a poverty-stricken third-world country. And their personalities were just as outrageous as the differences in their childhoods. Getting the two of them together was like watching a hurricane collide with a tornado. Epic. Explosive. Earth-shattering.

It didn't bother Juliana one bit that perhaps they were enjoying their money and fame a little too much-after all, they had earned it. And what else were they supposed to do anyway? Neither of them had many responsibilities or close family in town, so why the hell not? And when Brooks joined them for a night out on the town it was all the more fun. The Three Musketeers, that's what they called themselves. Three totally rich and royally fucked up individuals, partying until all hours of the morning. Miller and Claire were a big part of their close-knit group, as well, but they didn't enjoy the party scene like The Three Musketeers did. The love-birds had found a certain happiness in each other, and were much more content playing house together these days.

Not that she was jealous. Juliana wasn't interested in having that kind of relationship just yet. She knew she could be a little demanding with the people she dated, but that didn't mean she wanted anything serious with them. What was that saying about wanting your cake and eating it, too? She wanted her boyfriend-of-the-moment to be faithful to her, yet she wanted the freedom to not feel pinned down. Contradicting? Yes. But totally worth it when she could get it to work out. And it wasn't terribly difficult to get men to follow suit with her plan. Most were just thrilled to be a part of her life they would settle with whatever crazy rules she came up with. As long as she appeared as the trophy on their arm and a wildcat in their bed, they were more than happy to give Juliana her way. And that was just the way she liked it.

Although, she had to admit that her latest conquest had her somewhat confused. Juliana didn't like to feel jealous or self-conscious, and those were the exact feelings that had been rearing their ugly heads as of late, much to her dismay. Insecurity was a new sensation for her, and she didn't appreciate it one little bit. Maybe finally becoming exclusive with a special someone was what she needed at this point in her life? But would she be able to be monogamous with just one person? The concept seemed so foreign to her and she just wasn't sure she had what it took to make that kind of relationship work. Her stomach flip-flopped just thinking about it. Perhaps it was best not to make any rash decisions while she was sober. Problems always had a way of making more sense after a few drinks.

Juliana sighed inwardly and untied her bikini top, letting it fall to the stone patio below. She noticed several appreciative eyes rake over her lean, brown body and she slowly flipped onto her stomach allowing bystanders to enjoy the show. She didn't want to think about serious matters at the moment, she wanted to enjoy her time in the sun before she had to get up and call Ashton to make plans for the upcoming night's activities. If there was one thing Juliana hated it was not having an itinerary in place, and she was dead set on an evening filled with total mayhem.

It was the only way to spend a Saturday night in Hollywood.

Find out more about The Young Woman's plans in Chapter 5!

Hello, and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you like chapter 4, I ask that you please consider leaving a vote/comment. Your support makes my day! Take a peek at the media section for a picture of Juliana Santiago!

I just laid the back story for the main characters and I'm hoping it didn't feel like too much narration. I'd love to hear your feedback if you have any so I can go back and edit to make the story better.

(Chapter 4 approx. 3,005 words)