Episode 76

"The Perfect Kiss"

97 Days Ago

The helicopter began lifting high into the air, pulling the ladder up with it as Heather hung onto the rungs.  The helicopter teetered in the air, half over the roof and half over the street thirty stories below.

Brett climbed up the ladder, trying to pull at Seth’s leg.  He turned and brought his foot down onto Brett’s hand with a startling blow.  Brett slipped and he started to fall.  Quickly, he was able to reach up with his other hand and pull himself back up again.  Moments later, Seth went sailing from the ladder, plummeting to the crowded street below and landing with a sickening bloody thump.

“Dramatic footage coming to you from earlier this evening where an apparent hostage situation took place on the roof of this theatre in downtown Los Angeles, California in the United States,” said the news anchor from the local ABC affiliate on Swiss cable television.   “After the ordeal, the hostages were questioned by authorities before being taken to Cedars-Sinai hospital for a checkup-“

Benji watched the news coverage from his dorm room at Beau-Soleil, his eyes glued to the television in disbelief.  His father had told him about the incident and assured him that all was well, but seeing it unfold on camera was a different story.  The events that had occured back home mere hours ago were nothing short of action-movie spectacular.

“You’re needed in the headmaster’s office,” called a voice over the blaring sound of the television. 

Benji turned to the door where his dorm mother stood casting her disapproving eyes on him.  He clicked off the news and followed her down the hall to the stairs.

Moments later, he was seated in the administration building across campus, the headmaster, the dean of students, and the dean of discipline all in attendance.   Benji casually drummed his fingertips on the sole of his tennis shoes.  Unaffected by their stares, he calmly waited for the headmaster to continue.

“Benji, in many ways you are a special case here at Beau Soleil,” he said, a rackety old man with deep wrinkles and calloused hands whose suit smelled like moth balls and fabric softener.  “Your father has donated a great sum of money over the years in addition to your tuition.  The arrangement has worked to our benefit.  Up until now, that is.”

The severity escaped him still as Benji stared blankly out the window.

“Don’t sugar coat it, Dean Townsend,” said the Dean of Discipline.  He walked over and leaned in to Benji, his face growing red and the veins in his forehead pulsating rapidly.  “After what you did to my daughter, you had better be happy that you’re not shackled to a jail cell right at this moment.”

“Dean Andrews!” shrieked the dorm mother. 

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist that you leave school and-“ began Dean Townsend in his usual patronizingly calm fashion.

Dean Andrews cut him off abruptly, infuriated by Benji’s cavalier attitude.  “You are out of here!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.  “Do you hear me!  You’re gone!  You’re your father’s problem now you little-“

Five days later he was on a plane back to California.  He wondered if there would be anything in L.A. to hold his interest aside from the occassional rooftop hostage crises.  After the experiences he’d had at boarding school, he doubted that anything would prove to be as exciting.

Today

The guard led Jordan down the cell block at the police station in downtown Los Angeles.  He paused at the last cell where Benji was sitting anxiously on the cold concrete bench against the wall. 

“Dad,” he said, flying over to the bars between them.  “I’m sorry you had to come down here.  I didn’t even know if you were back in town yet.”

“I just got back,” Jordan said.

“How was Switzerland?” Benji found himself asking out of sheer awkwardness.  Anything to avoid the real issue at hand, namely his arrest an hour before.  On his birthday nonetheless.  “Did you stop by and say hi to my old school?”

“Actually, yes,” Jordan replied.

The smirk quickly disappeared from Benji’s face.  He backed up a step, unable to look his father in the eye.   “You did?” he asked with a nervous laugh.  “What….what ah…did they say?”

“Well, for starters they told me that you didn’t graduate early.  They forced you to leave and gave you a diploma just to get you out of their hair.  They also told me what you did to the Dean of Discipline’s daughter,” Jordan said, his arms folded disapprovingly across his chest.

“She’s a liar,” Benji said quickly.  “Dad, she lied about that.  I never touched her-“

“They’ve decided not to press charges, in case you were wondering,” Jordan cut him off.  “But you’re still not allowed back in the country…ever.”

Benji searched for the words to get out of this one.  It proved to be more difficult than he’d imagined.  “Look, I was going to tell you about all of that, but it’s like the minute I got here things just went haywire.  First that stuff with Alex and the government, Heather’s pregnancy, Brett going to work for you…“

“Benji, stop!” Jordan shouted.  “The police just told me what happened at the Viper Room last week.  Do you realize how much trouble you’re in?”

But Benji refused to let this be his final stand.  He’d gotten out of much more heady situations back at school in Switzerland.

“What happened to make you do this?” Jordan asked, his eyes cold and demanding.   “What happened to my son?"

7 Days Ago

The convertible BMW sped down Sunset Boulevard, a New Order track blasting from the speakers as Benji careened around corners, weaved through traffic, and honked at a few slow-goers.   It was quarter to midnight, a full moon hanging low in the pitch black sky.   Holding his cell phone, he watched the video again and again, gritting his teeth in anger.  His heart beat wildly inside his chest, his vision blurred with hatred, and he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white as a sheet.

Peeling around a corner, he started up the hill to his father’s house in Beverly Hills, speeding directly into the path of an oncoming car.  Quickly he swerved away and missed a collision by mere inches.

“Would you slow down?” screamed Blake Distefano from the passenger’s seat.  “You’re either going to kill us or get us arrested.  Either way I’m not too jazzed about this little joy ride, Benji.  What even set you off back there, anyway?”

“He’s gone too far this time,” Benji said, pushing the accelerator to the floor.

“Who?” Blake demanded.  “Are you talking about that douche bag Sheldon Novak?  Forget about him.  He’s a tool.  That business with you and Scott Kelly is just him trying to start rumors.”

Benji shook his head, pulling up to the driveway and slamming on the brakes.  “Wait here,” he ordered his friend before climbing out of the car and darting inside the house. 

Blake leaned his head back against the seat, sighing with frustration.  He thought he’d gotten used to Benji’s overdramatic tantrums by now, particularly the rivalry that his friend had with Sheldon Novak, the spoiled heir to the most influential talent agency in the world.  Sheldon, a nineteen year old pretty boy with more connections than it was safe for anyone to know about, had hated Benji from the get go, and vice versa.   He wasn’t sure what happened earlier to set Benji off, but what had started out as a normal night on the town had turned into something dark and explosive.  He shuddered to think of what was to come.

A minute later, Benji jumped back into the car and threw the gear into reverse, haphazardly rocketing the car down the driveway to the main road.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Blake asked after a few moments of silence.

“What?”

“Why we had to come all the way back to your house.”

“I just had to get something,” Benji replied, barely acknowledging him as he sped down the street.

“Well what was it?” Blake asked in frustration.  It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell him anything about what was going on.   He looked at him and inspected his jacket, suddenly realizing just what was so important that they had to race back to Beverly Hills.   There, tucked inside the interior pocket of Benji’s jacket was a black revolver.   “Oh Jesus, Benji.  What are you going to do?”

Benji didn’t answer, simply pressing his foot on the accelerator until it hit the floor.

The line to get into the Viper Room on Sunset was half a block long.  Music from inside pounded through the heavy black walls, growing a little louder each time the door opened and the next fortunate patron was allowed inside.

All heads turned to the direction of the street where a black Porsche sped up to the curb and the passenger’s side door flung open.   A pair of black calf boots stepped out onto the pavement, followed by legs, a dangerously short mini dress, and finally wildly teezed black hair. 

“No, I don’t want to get back in the car!” Miranda Blackthorne screamed, tapping her boot on the ground and glaring through the open door.  “I want you to watch me walk away and see what it is you’ve been missing.  Then I’m going to go inside, get some guy to buy me a drink, and screw him until you’re nothing but a very bad memory.”

With that, she slammed the car door, turned and marched to the entrance.  The bouncer at the door held her back and directed her to the end of the line but Miranda pulled a you’ve got to be kidding me face and shrugged him off.

“Yeah right.  Do you know who I am?” she hollered in a drunken slur, shoving him aside and forcing her way into the club. 

Once inside, a line of hungry men was already forming, offering up their credentials and lineage in vain attempts at wooing her.  It wasn’t every night that Miranda Blackthorne made an appearance in Hollywood’s club scene.  For the past three years she’d held her admirers at bay, too busy being married or involved, and entering the ranks of adulthood as a career woman.  Tonight, however, she wanted to be none of those things. 

She inspected them as if she were choosing a new car, looking them up and down, tossing their business cards aside with disinterest, and offering up cold, steely looks to see who would remain standing.  Unfortunately no one did.

“Some things haven’t changed,” she murmured to herself and turned with a sigh of resignation.  “Aren’t there any real men in this town?”

As if on cue, a deep voice from behind caught her attention.  “Here I am.”

She turned and leveled her dark eyes on Sheldon Novak.  “Oh great,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  “What are you, like seventeen?”

“Nineteen,” he corrected her, taking her hand and placing a martini in it.  “But believe me, I’m all man.  Why don’t you give me a chance to show you?”

Despite her knowledge of Sheldon Novak and his pretentious Hollywood reputation, she was impressed by his gumption.  Maybe a younger man was just what she needed tonight.  After a moment or two of hesitation, she shrugged and motioned for him to follow her to the bar.

“I’ll give you one chance not to disappoint me,” she said, then paused and looked at him dead on.  “And believe me, I’m in no mood to be pissed off tonight, so if you pull any of that ‘I’m entitled to any woman I want because my daddy’s rich’ crap with me, I’ll rip each and every extremity from your body starting with your penis.  Capice?”

Sheldon nodded with a self-assured smile and followed her through the crowd of disappointed rejects.

The bathrooms at the Viper Room were filthy, humid, and plagued with a sticky substance on the floor that Stormy hoped was alcohol or juice from a spilled cocktail.  He ran his hands under the faucet and vainly raked his fingers through his hair in front of the mirror.  Behind him, Eddie paced the area with a look of dejection on his exaggerated face.

“You promised me you’d help me on this case,” he insisted.  “We’ve been best friends since the ninth grade when we broke into the nurses office at school and raided the Nyquil supply.  We started a business together, we did those twins in Tijuana on spring break in ’99, and now you blow me off when we were supposed to have plans tonight?  Is she really that good in bed?”

Stormy exhaled deeply and turned toward his friend, ignoring the troupe of club patrons who came and went from the small bathroom.   “Eddie, I’m sorry,” he said.  “It’s just that Kelly and I never get to go out.  The only times we see each other are at home where we have to pretend like there’s nothing going on, or at the hotel when she’s working, and we can’t keep that up forever.  Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been interested in someone like this?”

“So your best friend should get lost so you can score with this Hawaiian hottie?” Eddie complained.  “This isn’t the first time you’ve ditched me for her, either.  Why don’t you just go public about your relationship and then things can go back to normal.  You’ll get tired of her or cheat on her and I’ll go back to being your number one priority again.”

Amused by his dramatic overtures, Stormy patted him firmly on the back.  “We just want to keep it a secret for now,” he said.  “There’s a lot a stake.  Our parents might not understand, and we want to tread carefully.”

“Um, hello?  You’re twenty-six.  Just tell Daddy you’re dating the maid’s daughter and be done with it.”

“Eddie, go home,” Stormy said as he opened the door and started out to the main floor of the club.   When he spotted Miranda dancing several feet away with Sheldon Novak, he quickly ducked back into the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.

“Miranda’s here,” he replied in a panic, leaning against the door and blocking anyone from entering or leaving the bathroom.   “If she sees me and Kelly here together the jig is up.  She’ll go screaming to our father with this for sure.”

Eddie shrugged.  “So?  Maybe she’ll be like, decent about it and keep your secret.”

Stormy leveled a look of skepticism on him.  “When have you ever known Miranda to be decent, or much less keep a secret?”

“True,” Eddie replied and giving it a brief moment of hesitation.  “Gee, you’re kinda screwed.”

Stormy thought for a minute and suddenly got an idea.  “Eddie, you’ve got to help me,” he said, hoping his friend would forget about their disagreement long enough to get Miranda off his back.

The band wailed on their instruments from the stage across the room, a slew of groupies clamoring for access and waving their hands in an effort to touch the lead singer or feel the spray of sweat that rained off of the bass player.

Several feet away, Benji and Blake had re-entered the club and were circling Sheldon and Miranda who danced in the center of the club floor.  Benji’s eyes bore into Sheldon’s with white hot intensity, his hand resting gently beneath his jacket while concealing the gun from sight.

“Benji, think about what you’re doing,” Blake pleaded with him as he followed him around the room.  “Sheldon Novak isn’t worth it.  He’s an overcompensating namedropper who only knows people because they’re his daddy’s clients.  Whatever he said doesn’t matter.  Nobody listens to him anyway.”

“Maybe you should go, Blake,” Benji said, refusing to take his eyes off of him.

“Go? Go where?  I rode with you.  Besides, he’s with Miranda.  What are you gonna do?  Take a shot at him in front of her and an entire club full of people?”

At that very instant, Sheldon Novak decided to get handsy with Miranda, running his hand up the back of her leg beneath her short mini dress.  Within seconds, she swatted him away and slapped him across the face.

“What did I say?” she began, putting her hand up in protest.   “Get lost, punk.”

“Hey baby, I thought I was getting signals from you-“ Sheldon protested.

“Get lost!” Miranda repeated and stormed off toward the bathroom.  She felt as though she’d be sick.  She’d had more than enough to drink, and that coupled with her foul mood wasn’t settling very well.  She pushed the bathroom door open and ran directly into Kelly Kahoano coming out.

“Kelly,” she said in surprise, unused to seeing the young woman dressed in normal clothes, her hair done up beautifully, and at a coveted Hollywood nightclub to say the least.   “What are you doing here?”

Kelly’s eyes darted nervously around the room and she quickly searched for something to say.  Had Miranda seen here there with her brother?  Had their secret been exposed at last?

“Um, is anyone home in there?” Miranda asked her with a frown just as Eddie walked out of the men’s room and put an arm around Kelly.   “Are you with him?”

Kelly looked at Eddie and tried to hide her surprise.  “Um, yeah,” she said.  “I am.  With Eddie, I mean.”

“Did I just land on Mars or something?” Miranda asked, her bad mood taking hold of her.  “Kelly, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.  Least of all this big goofball.”

Awkwardness set in and Kelly again was at a loss for words.  When Stormy approached and greeted them with mock surprise she realized it must have been a last minute call on their part to prevent a disaster.

“Eddie, Kelly, I thought that was you guys,” Stormy said, overplayed but fairly convincing, especially to a drunken Miranda.  “Hey sis, what a coincidence.  I guess we all had the same idea tonight.  Isn’t the band great?”

“No.  Stormy, did you know about these two?” Miranda asked, shifting her weight between each leg.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied quickly.  “I mean, Kelly is all Eddie ever talks about.  I think they wanted to keep it on the D.L., you know, until they were a little more stable.  You know how Leilani can be.  No one’s good enough for her daughter.”

Miranda shrugged indifferently.  “Okay, whatever you say,” she began, then looked at her watch.  “Kelly, just don’t stay out too late.  We’ve got a full house at the hotel tonight which means a lot of rooms to clean tomorrow.  I need you on top of your game.”

“No problem,” she replied behind gnashed teeth.

“Yeah, I should get you home honey,” Eddie said with a grin and squeezed Kelly tightly.   “Wouldn’t want my little Cinderella to turn into a pumpkin.”

Stormy gave him an evil stare and quickly sprang to attention.  “You know what, Eddie, that’s so far out of your way.  Why don’t you let me take Kelly home.  I mean, we do live in the same house.  That is, if you don’t mind, Kelly.”

She shook her head with a faint grin.  “Not at all,” she said.  “That’s very kind of you.”

“I hope you’re not trying to steal my girl away, Stormy,” Eddie joked, his arm still wrapped gingerly around Kelly.  “I wouldn’t want our friendship to end over a woman.”

“Then shut up and let me take her home,” Stormy said under his breath.  He took Kelly by the arm and led her away.  “See you later.  Miranda, do you need a ride?”

She shook her head.  “No, I’m not ready to leave.”

Perfectly content to stick it to Stormy for standing him up, Eddie pulled Kelly into an embrace and gave her a kiss with plenty of tongue.  Stormy watched with aggravation and quickly pulled them apart.

“Okay, we’d better get going,” he said, quickly leading her to the front of the club. 

After they’d gone, Eddie looked at Miranda, wiped his moist lips and shrugged immodestly.  “That’s one hell of a maid you’ve got there,” he said with a wink.

Outside, the valet brought Stormy’s tricked out Cobra II to the curb and held the door open for Kelly who slipped into the passenger’s seat with a smile and a wink.  Stormy got in and looked at her with a grin, shaking his head in amusement over the circumstances of their evening.

“Sorry we didn’t get our night out,” he said.

“That’s okay,” Kelly replied, massaging his leg with a well manicured hand.  “Maybe it’s best we stay in for a while longer.  You know, until we’re ready to tell people about us.”

“Are you okay with that?” he asked.  “I mean, eventually telling people that we’re together?  I still have no idea how my father or your mother will react.”

Hesitating, Kelly shrugged coquettishly and licked her jammy red lips.  “Eventually,” she said, then leaned in closer and placed her hand between his hot skin and the waistband of his pants.  “But for now I kind of like our secret rendezvous.  It’s a lot more dangerous.  And dangerous is sexy.”

Stormy groaned with pleasure, leaning in and kissing her hard.  Kelly placed her hand on his chest through his unbuttoned shirt, her other hand massaging the back of his head while drawing him closer. 

“You know,” he began after they broke free from the embrace.  “There’s a spot up on Laurel Canyon that’s pretty secluded.  What do you say we go there and steam up the windows?”

Kelly laughed gleefully and nodded her head in agreement, bracing herself against the seat as Stormy pushed the gas pedal down and took off down the street away from the club.

"So what are you doing here, anyway?” Eddie asked as he followed Miranda who was doing laps around the Viper Room.  “I thought you were too good for the club scene.  You know, being a scorned divorcee and business woman and all.”

She pulled a face and rolled her eyes in irritation.  “I’m not scorned.  I was the one who divorced Brett.  My life has only gotten more fulfilling since then.”

“Well, you got dumped by David Jenner a few months ago.  Didn’t that sting a little bit?”

Miranda glared heatedly at him.  “I’ll give you something that will sting, you dumb airhead.  And David Jenner did not dump me.  I dumped him.”

“Oh right, I forgot.  That’s what you keep telling people.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Blake raced over in bated breath, holding his hand up in urgent protest.  “Eddie, you have to help me.  Something’s about to go down.  You have to come-“

“What are you doing here, douche?” Eddie asked.  “If dad finds out you’re at the Viper Room he’s going to have a coronary.  You’re supposed to be on probation.”

“I’ve been coming here for months,” Blake protested.

“You’re seventeen.  You’re lucky you haven’t gotten your fake ID taken away and barred for life.  Not to mention thrown in jail.”

“Eddie, just shut up and listen for a second!”

“Whatever.  Get lost, you girl.”

Sighing, Blake turned and started off through the crowd again, realizing his brother was going to be no help in the latest crisis with Benji.

After he’d gone, Miranda raised an amused eyebrow.  “As I was saying, I dumped David.  Anything you hear to the contrary is a bold faced lie.”

Eddie looked at her skeptically.  “So what are you doing here?” he asked, admiring her revealing outfit.  He couldn’t remember ever seeing her dress the way she was tonight.  The short mini dress, the boots, the wild hair.  It was a Miranda he hadn’t seen much of in the past few years.

“Can’t a girl go out for a night of fun?” she asked.

“Something happened tonight, didn’t it?” he asked.  “Something that made you want to go out and raise some hell.”

'Oh God, you think you can figure me out just because you got some Cracker Jack box P.I. license?"  

Miranda stared at the floor in a daze, recalling the events that had brought her to the Viper Room that night.

Four Hours Earlier

Miranda sat at the bar at Hotel Terranova sipping a glass of chardonnay.  After a long day of work she wanted nothing more than to unwind and have a drink before going home to another hum drum evening at home.  Alone.  Not that alone was a bad thing.  She used the opportunity to spend time with her father, her cousin Ethan, even her brother.  Anything to keep from wondering what would have been if things had worked out with her and David.

But when she turned her head and saw David saunter into the bar, all that progress was thrown out the window.  Surprisingly he walked directly over to her.  In an effort to boost her confidence, she swallowed the remainder of her wine and quickly ordered another glass.

“Hello Miranda,” David said.  “You’re looking very well.”

“Thank you,” she said graciously and accepted the fresh glass from the bartender.  “So are you.  I guess being a world class jackass suits you.”

He smiled in amusement, having expected her to be bitter.  They hadn’t seen each other since the breakup, after all, and he suspected the wounds were still relatively fresh.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your evening,” he said and started to walk in the opposite direction.

“David,” she called after him.  “I’m sorry.  I just keep going back to that day and wondering if I missed something.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

“Well, the only reason you gave me for breaking up with me was because you didn’t see that we had a future together,” she said, pausing to taking a big gulp of wine.  “I’d like to know what you meant by that.”

He shrugged.  “Just what it sounds like.  I had fun with you while we were together but I don’t think it could go anywhere.  I’m sorry.”

Miranda set her jaw and took a few steps forward.  “Who is she?” she demanded.

Smiling, he shook his head in protest.  “There is no one else, Miranda.  That isn’t what this is about.”   After all, it was true.  Yes, he wanted Brooke Taylor.  Yes, she stirred something in him that he’d never felt before.  But as of yet, Brooke had held him at bay, refusing to get involved on any level until she sorted through her problems.  That, compounded by the already hostile relationship between Brooke and Miranda, he felt no need to bring it up.    “Now if you’ll excuse me.  I’m having a late dinner with a colleague in the restaurant.”

Angry with herself for making a scene, Miranda returned to her perch at the bar and downed the rest of her chardonnay.  She ordered another and finished it just as quickly.  She didn’t need David Jenner.  She had moved on since their breakup, as hard as it had been.  Had she dated anyone else or even been remotely interested in an