The Evolution of TJ Wilde: Full Sail, Pt 3

And here we are in old Hollywood, immersed in memorabilia and collectibles. A little bit of heaven, as far as I’m concerned. Add to that the beach, the canyons and, of course, Santa Monica Pier, and writing was a great escape from whatever was going on in my real life.

TJ and Mimi were having the time of their lives, too. At least they were until Mimi once again went missing. TJ was correct. That woman definitely needed a GPS attached to her ass. So now, instead of determining the provenance of a beautiful oil painting, she was desperately trying to find her friend.

TJ’s quiet life was in the rearview mirror.

THREE

Welcome to Hollywood! What’s your dream?- PRETTY WOMAN

I told Mimi I would be the only one arriving in Los Angeles over the weekend. She didn’t ask, and I didn’t bother with the details of Colby’s absence. We would have plenty of time to deliberate on that topic in person.

“I found you the cutest beachside hotel,” she said after she gave me my flight information.

“I’m not staying with you?” That was a surprise. I assumed we would be having many a late night, catching up on life’s happenings.

“My studio apartment is so small, you wouldn’t be comfortable. I keep thinking I should be looking for something larger, but I have not had the time. Besides, Tom is paying, so you should enjoy the beach view.”

“Sounds lovely. Should I rent a car?”

“No, you’ll be using one of Tom’s. How fancy do you want to be? I’ve got an electric BMW, a Land Cruiser, or I think the Porsche is back from the shop.”

“What, no Maserati?”

“Don’t joke. If he wasn’t so occupied with his art collection, he’d probably have a garage full of expensive cars. Wait until you see his mansion, it’s…well, you’ll just have to see it.”

“The EV will be fine, though I’m a bit nervous driving one of his cars,” I said. “I’m excited and can’t wait to see you Friday.”

After we disconnected, I finished downloading some reference books on old Hollywood and vintage Hollywood collectibles to read on the plane.

I packed what I hoped would get me through two weeks away. Taking time off from work was not a problem. My boss, Beverly, believed I deserved a vacation, and it didn’t hurt that there was nothing urgent in the pipeline. She was excited that I would have the opportunity to explore the art scene in Los Angeles.

Beverly also mentioned the idea of looking into future acquisitions. There were rumors of an enormous estate going up for auction in Santa Barbara that had an excellent art collection, including a full-sized Rodin. The museum would consider extending my time if that sale materialized.

I talked with our pet sitter, Abby, arranging daily walks for Wyatt and lots of lap time for Stevie. I figured it was best to book her time in case Colby’s newest case led to long days or possibly even longer nights. It would be easier for her to transition from dog walker to full-time food-poop-cuddle attendant if needed.

I canceled our fresh vegetable and egg deliveries from the CSA for the foreseeable future. In the event that circumstances extended my stay. I let out a sigh and hoped I had remembered everything. I would double-check with Colby at dinner and see if he could think of anything else.

With everything done, that left me with a boatload of time to think. And mostly what I was thinking about, obsessing about really, was my father. I reflected on when he showed up and disrupted my already upended life.

Stuck in Peoria after an unexpected divorce, seeing a friend murdered, and being stalked by numerous people almost paled in comparison to learning my father was alive. And Colby knew. That put a dent in our budding relationship.

And here we were again, Colby collaborating with my father while I stood on the sidelines, waiting for some kind of connection. I was trying not to be resentful, but failing miserably. I was grateful to be leaving town, if only to get my thoughts in order.

Dog feet scrambling across the kitchen floor meant that Colby was home. I zipped up my toiletry bag and tossed it with the other luggage. I put on a smile and proceeded downstairs, pledging to set aside my fears and doubts. At least for the night.

Colby was unpacking Chinese food while Wyatt wound around his legs, making the task difficult. God bless that man for bringing dinner after what was probably a very busy day.

“Wyatt, are you supposed to be in the kitchen?” I admonished.

He stopped, sat and cocked his head as if to say, “But this is where the good food is.”

I raised an eyebrow, and he let out a deep sigh, got up, and walked out. Where he then stood, just beyond the threshold, hoping he could sneak back when we were distracted. I loved that big, furry doofus.

“Smells delicious,” I said as I grabbed plates from the cupboard. I set them on the oak table in the breakfast nook. It was my grandmother’s and had traveled with me from Boston to Peoria, back to Boston, and now here. I remembered the first time I saw Colby sitting at it. I was freshly showered, traumatized, and exhausted. Seeing him there was the most comforting sight I had ever seen. It wasn’t long after that he lifted me onto it and kissed away all my fears.

I walked behind Colby as he grabbed the last container out of the bag. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned my head against his back, feeling his warmth and strength. He turned around and lifted my face to his, looking deeply into my eyes before kissing me. Gently at first, then hungrily, with purpose, before breaking away.

“If I weren’t starving, we would be skipping dinner right now,” he said. “But I hope we can continue this later.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and gave me that wolf grin.

Damn, the man was fine.

And true to his word, dinner was just the main course. Once the animals had been attended to and the kitchen cleaned up, we made our way to the bedroom. I wisely shut the door behind us, leaving the curious fur babies to live in wonder.

Colby wasted no time, taking me into his arms and kissing me passionately. The man knew how to kiss. Soft and gentle, that evolved into devouring my lips with his, tongue darting, desire conveyed without a word. He pulled away just long enough to pull my shirt over my head before dipping back down to take my mouth in his.

His hands got busy. He unclasped my bra, letting the cups swing back and away. That cool rush of air made my nipples harden with anticipation. He gently lowered the straps down my arms, and gravity did the rest. Meanwhile, his lips had not strayed from mine.

I busied myself with the button on his jeans and then unzipping them, moving the zipper down his hardness. I moved my hand against him, and a moment later he had me on the bed, removing the rest of my clothes. Then he nuzzled against my thighs and kissed his way up to the promised land.

I really should marry the man.

“You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” I asked Colby as we drove to the airport.

“Of course.”

I looked out the window anxiously. I had one of those Mimi feelings. She had a spooky way of knowing when something was about to happen, good or bad. This felt bad. I was sure it was nothing, but I couldn’t assuage my nerves.

“You’re awfully quiet over there, Kit-Kat,” Colby said as he reached over and squeezed my thigh. “What deep thoughts are you thinking?”

“Nothing really. I just feel…” I searched for the word. “…unsettled.”

“Are you worried about LA? My new assignment?”

“I’m not sure, maybe both? I can’t remember the last time we were doing separate inquiries in separate locations. It’s making me anxious, I guess.”

“Well, that’s probably because the last time we did that, you ended up in a dark tunnel on a deserted island, among other dangerous things.” I’m sure he was thinking about my impromptu trip to Havana.

I smiled at him and then reached over and kissed his cheek. “That’s probably it. Flashbacks of you and me separated, and Mimi and me getting into all kinds of mischief.”

“Promise me you’ll keep the mischief to a minimum this time.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. At least he knew better than to ask us to keep out of trouble completely. That would be a fool’s request.

We did the long lover’s goodbye at the airport. As much as we joked about my uneasiness, I was still leery of this trip, so it was difficult to let Colby go. But go he must, and I had to brave airport security.

Once settled on the plane, I pulled out my tablet, intending to tackle my Hollywood reading list. My seat was first class, aisle, because when I, along with Mimi and a few others, received the reward money from recovering all that stolen art in Boston, I swore to never fly coach again. Best decision I had ever made. Well, besides moving in with Colby.

Instead of reading, I promptly fell asleep. And except for waking for drink and snack services, I slept most of the six-hour flight. I would have thought it unusual, but I hadn’t slept well once Colby dropped the dad bomb. 

LAX was bustling when we landed, but my bags arrived quickly, and I texted Mimi that I would wait curbside for her. My phone dinged quickly with a reply.

I have shared my location with you. Traffic is heavy and I don’t want you waiting curbside when you can be comfy inside.

When the little dot was about a block away, I headed for the exit. The first thing I noticed when I stepped outside was the scent in the air. Sweet and salty, nothing like Boston or Virginia, it was slightly intoxicating.

Mimi arrived in a sporty cherry-red four-door Porsche. And from the lack of sound, I concluded it was electric. It was a sweet, if expensive, looking set of wheels. She rolled down the passenger window. “Do you need help with your bags?”

I shook my head and tossed them into the hatchback. It smelled new inside. I climbed in and took the travel mug of water Mimi handed me before reaching across the console and hugging her. “Sorry to not greet you properly, but it’s a zoo here and the sooner we get out the better I’ll feel.”

“No worries. Just glad to see you.” It had been too long since we had been together. I looked around the interior. From what I could see, it was fully appointed. “Nice car.”

“I’m glad you like it because it’s yours while you’re here.”

“What?! Mimi, this car looks brand new. And expensive.”

“It is,” she replied. “Tom took delivery a few days ago. He was tired of the other Porsche always being in the shop. And this one gets great range on a charge, so it should be fun to drive.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about driving a recently purchased, very expensive car. However, I had to admit it would be a kick to drive. So I sat back and relaxed as Mimi maneuvered out of the airport.

I had never been to Los Angeles before and watched wide-eyed as unfamiliar architecture and the wildest fauna rolled by as we traversed the busy roadways. Mimi weaved in and out of lanes, pointing out things she thought I would enjoy, swearing at the occasional driver.

“There’s a traffic alert on the 4O5, so that’s why the surface streets,” she said as she turned onto Lincoln Boulevard. “Your hotel isn’t far from here. You’re going to love it, something right out of a 1960s beach movie.”

There were tall palm trees everywhere. I had to admit, seeing them rise above rows of strip malls and apartment buildings was stunning. It was nice that beauty could still surprise me. And there was that sweet smell again, wafting through my open window. “Mimi, what is that intoxicating fragrance?”

“It’s great, isn’t it? It could be any number of things – pink jasmine is blooming right now, tons of roses, sage, Jeffery Pines, an abundance of lavender, and lots of folks have citrus trees in their yards.”

“Well, it’s amazing.”

“Oh, wait until dark, the night-blooming jasmine will knock you out. And if it rains, we’ll drive through Laurel Canyon. The eucalyptus fragrance is irresistible.”

As we got closer to Santa Monica, the Pacific Ocean was visible on the horizon. Mimi turned onto Colorado Boulevard and headed west, and the ocean came into full view. It was like a postcard come to life.

“That’s Santa Monica Pier,” she said as we drove by a long pier that ended with a roller coaster and Ferris wheel. “It’s a lot of fun. We’ll have to walk over one night because your hotel is two blocks away.” Mimi slowed and waited for a car to pull out of a parking space and merge into traffic. She moved into the right lane and then announced, “Here we are,” as she turned into a small parking lot and parked near a giant surfboard.

She was right. The hotel was adorable. Two stories with a row of rooms, top and bottom, a small lobby on the north side, with a large gated entrance next to it. Ferns, palms, and three-story tall palm trees surrounded the entire building. All backed by the Pacific Ocean.

“Isn’t it lovely? I can’t wait to see the inside. All the website photos had a total vintage beach vibe, and I knew you’d love it.”

We climbed out of the car and walked across the parking lot. The door to the lobby was propped open, and a genial man greeted us at the front desk. The inside was tiny, filled with a variety of novelty gifts, many with the hotel logo emblazoned on them, and a coffee and tea counter, as well as plenty of snacks. Vintage surfboards adorned the walls.

“Good afternoon. Checking in?” Our host inquired in a thick Brooklyn accent. His nametag said Joe.

Mimi got the accounts settled, and we received instructions on all the available amenities. Then Joe walked us to the gate, showed us the code to unlock it, and bid me to enjoy my stay.

We grabbed my bags from the car, fumbled for a minute with the gate code, and then headed to the back of the building, where we found it was not just one building but several. We climbed up the first set of stairs and walked to the end of the open walkway to the last door.

Outside on the deck was a picnic table with an umbrella. There was a long counter bar along the deck railing with several high-backed bar stools and a fantastic beach view. It would be a great place to sit and watch the sunset.

Mimi opened the door, and we entered another era. The room was large, with a separate living room and bedroom. An overstuffed leather loveseat and a mid-century upholstered chair in denim blue gave the living room a homey touch. The coffee and end tables were rattan, and a large mirror graced one wall, while the other had a coat rack made from an old surfboard. A large built-in wall cabinet held a television and a small refrigerator, and had plenty of drawers for incidentals.

One side of the living room had a proscenium opening into the bedroom. Two floor-to-ceiling louvered-door closets with a small built-in desk and mirror between them were on the wall opposite the bed. A charming white coverlet covered the bed, and an abstract painting of surfboards hung above it. I sensed a theme.

The absolutely vintage bathroom was on the far side of the living room. Sapphire-blue tiles lined the tub and shower walls. A pedestal sink stood on a floor of blue and white hexagon tiles. Only the toilet was modern, as I would expect in a drought-prone state.

“Oh, Mimi, this is beyond adorable,” I exclaimed as I dropped my suitcases on the bed.

“It’s even better than I expected!” she agreed. “We’ll be hanging out here, that’s for sure.”

“Pizza and evening strolls on the beach,” I added. I walked around the room and opened a few of the abundant windows to let the salt air drift in. “I’ll need to figure out where the grocery stores are so I can fill up that fridge.”

“You’ll have no problem navigating around Santa Monica. It’s like a small beach town with lots of conveniences.”

I sat on the couch and took a moment to soak it all in. Los Angeles, Santa Monica, the beach, this room, and thought how lucky I was to have this opportunity. “So, where should we begin on our quest to authenticate your painting” I asked, not wanting to dive into work, but feeling that I should.

“How about we start by taking today to get settled and catch up? We can start fresh tomorrow.” I could get behind that plan. Mimi added, “I need to go pick up my car, and you need to unpack. I’ll come by around six and we’ll make a dinner plan and then gossip the rest of the night.” And with that, she was off to wait for the town car service.

She said that Tom’s place was just fifteen minutes up the road in Pacific Palisades. I offered to take her, but she said she had already texted the driver. Once she was gone, I flipped on the television to see if there was local news and settled on a station.

I listened to the local traffic, weather, and crime statistics while I unpacked. I made a grocery list and looked on my phone for the closest store. Mimi was right. There was a large chain store less than five minutes away.

With everything unpacked and the newscaster droning on about regional land use policies, I curled up on the soft leather couch and fell asleep. I awoke to laughter outside my open window and realized the sun was dipping closer to the horizon. Disoriented, I grabbed my phone to check the time.

I had about thirty minutes before Mimi came back. The weather-named meteorologist – that could not be his real name, could it? – gave the same forecast I heard while unpacking. Not waiting for the serious talking head to come back on to repeat the day’s headlines, I hit the off button on the remote.

I freshened up in the bathroom, splashing water on my face and running a brush through my curls. After changing my clothes, I ambled out onto the deck to sit at the bar and watch the sunset while I waited for Mimi. I spotted her as she walked past the Birds of Paradise by the stairs, just as the Ferris wheel lit up. I gave her a little wave as she ascended.

There was just a touch of a chill in the westerly breeze as the sun dipped into the ocean. I shivered. I’d have to remember to grab a jacket when we left for dinner.

“You better be hungry because I’m ravenous,” Mimi said as she walked up to my door. We both ducked inside so I could grab my bag and a coat.

“The time change has me all out of whack, but I am famished.” I closed the door. I could hear the crowds at the pier as we descended the stairs. “And since I napped instead of running errands, can we stop at the store on our way back so I can grab some breakfast essentials and snacks?” Mimi hooked her arm in mine.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Where would you like to eat? Santa Monica is filled with great restaurants, and if you want to drive a bit further, there are some exotic places to dine.”

“For tonight, I think anywhere nearby would be fine.”

“Okay, let’s go to my favorite Thai restaurant,” she said enthusiastically.

And with that, we were off in Mimi’s convertible, top down, zipping through the night streets of Santa Monica. Quickly arriving at our destination.

The restaurant was cozy and dark, filled with magnificent aromas. Our egg roll and spring roll appetizers arrived swiftly, and I had to stop myself from scarfing them down unapologetically. My body had no idea what time it was, but at least it knew it was hungry. While we waited for our main courses, it was time to quiz Mimi on the task before us.

“So tell me more about this painting,” I requested between bites of another spring roll.

TJ Wilde Trilogy available here.