The Wives of Beverly Row 1: Lust Has a New Address

  The Wives of Beverly Row 1

  Abby Weeks

  Copyright © 2014 Abby Weeks

  To find more by Abby sign up for personal updates.

  This work is presented by the author.

  To get in touch please contact:

  abby@type‐writer.net

  ISBN 978‐1‐927947‐28‐9

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Quote

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Back Matter

  *

  “ALL ART IS EROTIC.”

  Gustav Klimt, 1862‐1918

  *

  “EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD IS ABOUT SEX EXCEPT SEX. SEX IS ABOUT POWER.”

  Oscar Wilde, 1854‐1900

  *

  I

  AT FIRST GLANCE, BEVERLY ROW seemed just like a dozen other expensive neighborhoods in the Hollywood hills. Located in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains the air was a little cooler, a little less clammy than the rest of the city. White Alder and Bigleaf Maple gave it a lush, shady comfort. Swimming pools sat serenely under sandstone bluffs. The houses, grand and classically-styled, lined one side of the street. On the other, toward the city, the chaparral sloped steeply and the view over downtown and the ocean was breathtaking. In the evening, black, iron lamps cast a warm glow that set off the Pacific sunset perfectly.

  To say it was a nice neighborhood was an understatement. It was one of the city’s best kept secrets and all the residents knew it. They walked along the row in the evenings with a quiet confidence, secure in the knowledge that they lived on one of the most beautiful and privileged streets in America.

  But all that beauty, all that serenity and calmness, was only on the surface. If you looked deeper you would see a far more complicated picture. All of the quirks and rivalries that make human life so endlessly fascinating were as present in Beverly Row as in any other neighborhood in the world, perhaps even more so.

  This is a story about the five women who call Beverly Row home. It is an examination of their deepest and most intimate secrets. Read carefully and you will see that their fantasies, the kinks and desires they work so hard to keep secret, are really just like yours and mine.

  *

  ARIEL CHECKED HER BARBECUE. The ribs she was making for her new neighbors’ garden party had to be absolutely perfect. She’d made a brown sugar glaze using a recipe she found on the Internet and she prayed it was as good as it claimed. Along with the sugar, the recipe called for vinegar, chile flakes and dry mustard. Ordinarily she would have marinated ribs in ketchup but she had a feeling a little more effort was expected in her new life.

  “Are you sure we should go to this thing?”

  Ariel wiped her forehead from the heat of the grill and looked up at her daughter. Becky had spent the morning putting on dress after dress, trying to find the perfect look for the fancy new world she’d been brought to. She was sixteen and beautiful and Ariel thought she looked perfect no matter what dress she chose.

  “You look beautiful, honey,” she said.

  “Are you sure, mom? I mean, I don’t even know what they wear up here.”

  “You look perfect, Becky. I wish I could fill a dress like that.”

  “Oh, mom. You look amaze.”

  Ariel smiled. She knew she looked good. She was only eighteen years older than her daughter and everywhere they went people mistook them for sisters. Ariel secretly dreaded the day that stopped happening.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Becky pulled at her hem. “Are you sure this dress looks right?” She was wearing a blue and white sundress and she couldn’t have looked lovelier.

  “I’m certain. Whoever these people are they’re going to take one look at you and love you forever.”

  Becky sighed. “Are you as nervous as I am?” she said.

  “Yes. I don’t even know why. It’s silly.”

  “It’s just a barbecue.”

  “Right?”

  “And they were nice enough to invite us.”

  “I know,” Ariel said. “They’re probably really nice people. We’ve just got to get over there and meet everyone and we’ll feel a whole lot better.”

  Becky nodded. “I’ll grab the potato salad,” she said. “Those ribs look perfect.”

  Ariel prayed they were. Somehow she’d managed to convince herself that her entire future on Beverly Row depended on this little party and the food she brought to it.

  *

  THE MEDEIROS’S HOUSE WAS RIGHT next door. Ariel carried the ribs on a china platter that had belonged to her grandmother. Becky carried the potato salad in a matching bowl.

  As they walked down the Spanish tile driveway they could hear the festivities in the garden behind the house.

  “Should we knock?” Ariel said.

  She felt so awkward. Becky looked like she felt the same. They both wished they knew even just one person at the party. They’d moved in to their new house a few days ago and the invite had been waiting for them. Someone had slid it under the front door and it was addressed to them both by name. Ariel was surprised anyone even knew their names, let alone was inviting them to a party.

  They both felt nervous as they climbed the steps to the aged, wooden door and rang the bell. They could have simply walked around the house and joined the party but they were too shy.

  “This is weird,” Becky said, looking a little desperately at her mother.

  Ariel smiled at her bravely. She was the mom. It was her job to provide the moral support.

  “It’s fine, honey. Just try to relax.”

  *

  THE MAN WHO OPENED THE door was a lot handsomer than either of them had expected.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he said.

  “Good morning,” they stammered.

  “Jake Medeiros,” he said, extending his hand.

  They both shook it.

  “I’m Ariel. This is my daughter, Becky.”

  “A pleasure,” Becky said.

  Ariel shot her a glance. Becky wasn’t usually in the habit of telling people things were a pleasure. Jake Medeiros was definitely crush material for a sixteen-year-old. Hell, even for a thirty-four-year-old he was quite something. He was dark and Mediterranean-looking with a well-built torso under his linen shirt. A few stray chest hairs poked out from his V-neck collar. He was one of those handsome, rich, early-forties men that California seemed to breed in abundance.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us,” Ariel said.

  “Oh, thank you for coming. The whole Row’s here and everyone’s been dying to meet the new neighbors.”

  “Great,” Becky said, weakly.

  Ariel was relieved that there were only four houses on the row.

  “Two young girls all alone in that big house! That counts as news in these parts,” Jake said and winked at Ariel.

  Ariel couldn’t help blushing. She wasn’t sure what Jake was hinting at but she was pretty sure he was hinting at something. She didn’t know what to say so she just stood there.

  “Well, follow me, girls,” he said and led them into the house. “I’ll show you in.”

  Ariel looked at Becky.

  Becky raised her eyebrows. “Pretty hot,” she mout
hed silently.

  Ariel hit her on the arm.

  They followed Jake into a large and beautifully appointed kitchen and put the food on the marble countertop. It joined a mountain of other perfectly prepared dishes. The other guests were all out in the backyard, standing around the pool with margaritas or mojitos in their hands. They were a good-looking crowd, just six people, but Ariel felt a sudden panic as she realized the women were all in bathing suits. All that effort to get dressed and they were in the wrong outfits.

  “Don’t be shy,” Jake said. “You two can get ready through there. Come out when you’ve got your bathing suits on.”

  Ariel and Becky stood by the counter and looked at him.

  “We didn’t know it was a pool party,” Becky said.

  “Oh no!” Jake said. “Didn’t the invite say?”

  “No it didn’t,” Becky said.

  “That’s okay,” Ariel said. “It’s no big deal.”

  The people outside had noticed the newcomers and were looking in at them.

  “Nonsense,” Jake said. “I’m sure Zola has some extra bikinis lying around. I’ll get her to find you something.”

  “Really, don’t go to any trouble.”

  Jake went to the door. “Zola, honey” he called. “They’re here, the new girls. They don’t have any bathing suits.”

  Ariel looked at Becky. They were both embarrassed but Becky was putting on a brave face. Poor girl, Ariel thought. It was pretty awkward with everyone outside looking at them.

  A young, tanned, Hispanic woman who looked to be in her late twenties came running over with a margarita in her hand. She was wearing a very sexy golden bikini and had the largest breasts Ariel had ever seen. She also had on a pair of matching golden stilettos that made her look even taller and thinner than she was.

  “Oh my God,” she cried in the typical way women seemed to greet each other at social events like this one, “You must be Ariel and Becky. I’m so glad you made it.”

  Ariel was feeling more and more flustered. The people by the pool were pretending to busy themselves but Ariel knew they were watching and listening.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us,” she said.

  She flashed a glance at Zola’s voluptuous breasts and did not relish the opportunity of trying on one of her bikinis.

  “You both look so darling,” Zola said glancing over their sundresses, “almost innocent.”

  Ariel wondered what she meant by that but didn’t have time to find out.

  “We didn’t know it was a pool party,” Becky said.

  “Oh you poor things. I forgot to mention it on the invite. Everyone else has been here so many times it sort of just goes without saying.”

  Zola looked at Jake. “Honey, would you be a darling and make these girls a couple of margaritas. I’ll take them upstairs and show them some bathing suits they can borrow.”

  “That’s really not necessary,” Ariel said.

  “Oh don’t be shy,” Zola said. “I’m sure you’d like to get a little wet,” she said, addressing Becky.

  Becky smiled and nodded slowly.

  Zola marched through the kitchen and out to the grand staircase they’d passed on the way in. Ariel and Becky followed her. Ariel was relieved to be getting out of the view of the other guests. All she wanted to do was mingle through the crowd as quickly as possible, meet everyone, and then rush back to the safety of her own home. Everyone at the party knew each other and they all looked so happy and beautiful. It was intimidating being the new girl on the block.

  Becky was already following Zola out to the hall and Ariel decided not to show her daughter how awkward she felt. She would get through this little party. It wasn’t that bad.

  And then something happened that Ariel hadn’t expected at all. She never would have dared imagine something like it would happen. She was so surprised she didn’t even react. She just stood there.

  Jake Medeiros slapped her gently on the butt.

  For a second Ariel wondered if she’d imagined it but then he did it again. His hand definitely came down and cupped the cheek of her butt through the skirt of her dress. His hand was large and strong and lingered on her butt as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She looked up at him and then instantly looked away. Her face flushed red. She was shocked. She hurried after Becky and Zola and didn’t dare look back at Jake. She just prayed no one had seen what he’d done.

  What kind of a neighborhood had she come to?

  II

  ZOLA MEDEIROS WAS MORE NERVOUS about her new neighbors than she cared to admit. Two single women, a mother and daughter, it was her worst nightmare. If she’d been married to a loving, caring husband who was loyal to her she would have been more than happy to welcome some newcomers to the neighborhood. But that wasn’t who she was married to at all. She was married to Jake Medeiros and he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of them.

  She was crushing ice when Ariel and Becky arrived. She swallowed as she looked up at them. They were as pretty as pictures, the two of them in their sweet sundresses looking like immaculate virgins. The mother, Ariel, was a little older than Zola was, early thirties she guessed, but she looked so great it didn’t matter. It was amazing to think that the woman had a sixteen-year-old daughter. She must have had her when she was still a child herself.

  Jake led them through the kitchen like they were some new prize he’d bought for himself at the mall. Zola just knew he’d be all over them as soon as he got the chance. It made her shudder to think of it. That would be Jake’s absolute fantasy, a mother and daughter pair to seduce. She could already see it all happening. The way he was standing there, looking at the two of them, she knew he was flirting. He had a way of pushing his chest forward and straightening his back when he tried to pick up women. It made him look taller and thinner and more muscular than he was.

  She’d seen him go through so many mistresses, he’d had so many affairs, that the stages of the process were as familiar to her as anything in her life. When she confronted him about it he’d said he was a sex addict. She hadn’t known how to deal with that. Of course he was a sex addict, that was the problem, but the way he said it, he made it sound like it was a legitimate illness and she was the one being insensitive. She even had to go to support group meetings to learn how to take care of her husband’s illness. It made her sick. He wasn’t ill, he was a cheat! No matter what they called it, no matter what sort of support groups they created, her husband was a cheat and it was as simple as that. And nothing ever changed. He was rich and handsome and he fucked whoever the hell he wanted and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Except cry. She could watch what he did and she could cry. She had no choice. She’d come into the marriage penniless. He was the owner of a design company that created iPhone apps and cleared a hundred grand a month. He owned their house, he earned all their money, she was his trophy wife. He hadn’t married her for love, he’d married her so that he could add her to his list of possessions and show her off to his business associates. He wasn’t going to change his life for her. And the worst part was that she’d known all that when she’d married him. She’d denied it at the time, she’d told herself she was in love, but if she’d been honest she would have had to admit it was a lie. She was marrying for money and she was allowing herself to get sucked into the role she found herself in now. She didn’t feel like she could complain about it. She didn’t feel entitled to complain. Jake got what he’d wanted and she’d entered the marriage knowing full well what the bargain was. She got to live in the hills overlooking the city, she drove a Mercedes and lived in a million dollar home, and he got to fuck whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

  The fact that it hurt her every single day seemed beside the point. That was irrelevant to the bargain they’d struck. And now her husband’s philandering was going to turn her against her new neighbors too, two women who in all likelihood were perfectly nice and could have been her friends.

  That was
what she was thinking about as Jake called her over to meet Becky and Ariel.

  *

  ZOLA LED HER NEW NEIGHBORS up the stairs and into the bedroom. She thought it was ironic that she was the one leading them into her bedroom for the first time. Jake would be doing it soon enough. She knew she was being paranoid, she had no reason to judge Ariel or her daughter or to feel threatened by them, but after everything Jake had put her through she just couldn’t help it.

  She turned to face them. They both looked so sweet, so innocent.

  “You really don’t have to go to any trouble,” Ariel said.

  “It’s no trouble at all,” Zola said a little stiffly.

  Ariel looked like she’d been blushing. Had Jake made a move on her already? Zola doubted nothing when it came to her husband.

  “Nice room!” Becky said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I mean it. This is a gorgeous bedroom. It’s like out of a movie.”

  Zola felt flattered that Becky was so impressed. She had been just as impressed when she’d first seen that bedroom. She couldn’t believe it was going to be hers. The floor was Italian marble and opened onto a sweeping balcony overlooking the pool. There was a hot tub on the balcony made from the same stone. Above the bed was a dome built high into the ceiling with a round window looking up at the sky. It was fabulous. At night she could look up at the stars as she fell asleep.

  “It’s stunning,” Ariel said. “I can’t believe this is where you sleep.”

  Zola smiled. The two of them were genuinely impressed and Zola was surprised that they were being so complementary. Maybe she’d had her guard up too high. Any time she’d shown her home to her family or friends from her old life they’d always been too jealous to give her any complements. Now two white girls, her neighbors, we’re being kinder to her than her own childhood friends had been.

  “Your home is just as nice as this,” Zola said.

  She’d been in the house Ariel had just bought and it was pretty impressive.

  “No kidding,” Ariel said. “We can’t believe that either. All of this is a far cry from the life we’re used to.”

  “We lived in a bungalow in Pomona before this,” Becky said.