Mindy was wearing a cranberry red, low-cut gown that did an admirable job of displaying her breasts and that was just this side of the border between what was considered acceptable attire for such an occasion and what was considered slutty. She was smiling and chatting with Stinson, obviously flirting her cute little ass off, and she hardly gave Jake a glance as he stepped forward with Pauline on his arm.
"Jake!" Celia greeted warmly, her face lighting up as she saw him. "I'm glad you could make it." She was wearing a black and white gown of modest cut in the chest and legs. It was a little looser on her than what she normally wore in public. She threw her arms around him and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek, foregoing the fake Hollywood lip buzz that most attendees at such a party favored.
"It's good to see you too, Celia," Jake said, returning the hug, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through his body as he felt her against him, as he smelled the enticing odor of her vanilla body spray.
They broke the embrace and Greg held out his hand. "I'm glad you could make it too, Jake," he said as Jake shook with him. "I think you in particular are going to love this film we're putting on tonight."
"It sounds like a good one," Jake said.
"You remember Mike Stinson, don't you?" Greg asked.
"Of course," Jake said, shaking hands with him and exchanging a greeting.
"And I'm sure you remember Mindy, right?" Celia said.
"She's very hard to forget," Jake replied, turning toward her.
Mindy gave him a Hollywood smile, although there was a little something in her eyes. "It's nice to see you, Jake," she said, stepping forward and giving him a hug. She deliberately pressed her breasts into his chest, making sure he felt their weight and softness and even managing a little grind. She then kissed him softly on the cheek, just in front of his ear, making sure to blow a little air into his ear as she did so.
"Nice to see you, Mindy," Jake said, feeling a mix of emotions churning within him: anger, lust, even a touch of love and hate. "I didn't know you were acquainted with Greg and Celia."
"Well... I wasn't until tonight," Mindy said. "Mikey and I have become something of an item these past few weeks and he invited me to come with him to the premier."
"It's sort of a coming out for the relationship," Stinson said. "You know how things are in Hollywood."
"Oh yes," Jake said. "I know all too well."
Everyone thought he was making a joke and gave him a polite chuckle.
"And who is this lovely lady with you?" Greg asked, his eyes looking her up and down in a way that was a little more than friendly.
"Yes," said Stinson. "I can already sense the boys and girls of the press forming their dossiers on her."
"Well..." Jake started, but Mindy beat him to the punch.
"There won't be too much for them to speculate about," she said. "She's Jake's sister." She turned to her. "How are you doing, Pauline? It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"
"Quite a while," Pauline agreed. "We had ourselves a blast on that Las Vegas trip though, didn't we?"
Mindy giggled. "Shhh," she said with mock sternness. "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."
"Sister?" Greg said, surprised. "You mean... sister?"
"We have the same mother and father," Jake confirmed. Greg looked disappointed at this revelation for some reason.
"What's this about Vegas?" Stinson asked.
Mindy giggled again. "When Jake and I were... you know... dating, I went with him and Pauline to Vegas one weekend on one of the high-roller trips." She lowered her voice a little. "It was their first time."
"Ahhh," Stinson and Greg said simultaneously. It was obvious they were both veterans of the high roller treatment. Even Celia was grinning a little, something that surprised Jake.
"Beats the hell out of the forty-nine dollar room and two casino chips, doesn't it, Jake?" asked Greg.
"It was quite the experience," Jake had to admit. That had been the night, he recalled, that Mindy had procured the services of a beautiful whore posing as a high-roller blackjack dealer in the high-roller room to fuck Jake while Mindy watched.
"I bet it was," Celia said, giving Jake a look that was part amusement part cynicism.
"Well, anyway," Greg said, giving Jake one more handshake, "I'm sure you'll enjoy the film. Go ahead and mix and mingle for forty-five minutes or so and we'll make our way into the theater."
That was the cue that they were being dismissed. There were, after all, about a dozen or so other couples lined up behind them, waiting for their turn to talk to the star of the show.
"Right," Jake said. He turned to Pauline. "Let's go get a drink."
"Yeah," Pauline said. "Why the hell not?"
They got their drinks. Much to Jake's consternation, Mindy and Stinson found their way over to the corner where he and Pauline rooted themselves (it was right next to one of the bars). As they talked of neutral things like the declining economy and the upcoming trial of Manuel Noriega, Mindy managed to get close enough to Jake that her bare arm was touching his. Whenever she turned to greet someone wandering by, her breast would push into his elbow. It was seemingly an accident, but Jake knew Mindy well enough by now to know that it was calculatingly deliberate.
Thankfully, after about ten minutes or so, Wallace Grigsby III, director of The Northern Jungle, wandered by and, since he was currently without an entourage, Mindy and Stinson made a beeline for him, undoubtedly hoping to score auditions for his next flick. They left so fast that Mindy didn't even finish the sentence she'd been speaking. Neither one of them excused themselves or gave a parting word.
"Well," Pauline said. "It would seem we've been dismissed."
"Good riddance," Jake said, signaling to the bartender for another rum and coke. "If I would've known she was going to be here I wouldn't have come."
"It seems she has some unfinished business with you?" Pauline asked.
"It's finished as far as I'm concerned," Jake said.
"Really?" Pauline said. "I didn't see you pushing her away or anything."
He gave her an irritated look. God, why was she acting like such a nag tonight? Before he could answer her Celia came over to them, a half-empty champagne glass in her hand. Greg was not with her. He was still back at the receiving line, schmoozing with arriving guests.
"Hey, Jake," Celia said. "I didn't get a chance back there to tell you how sorry I am about Darren passing away and all the problems that popped up after it."
"Yeah, it was quite the month all right," Jake said.
"I know you've been asked this a thousand times," she said, "but I was hoping to get the inside answer instead of the canned answer. The break-up is real?"
"Yeah, it's for real," Jake confirmed.
"That's too bad," she said. "Last time we talked you told me you would try to work it out with Matt. I guess Darren's death kind of prohibited that, huh?"
"It was the nail in the coffin," Jake said, "but, in truth, I don't think we had much of chance of making it past the end of the tour anyway. There was just too much animosity."
"Too much stubbornness from Matt, you mean," Pauline said, letting a hint of bitterness slip through.
"I've only met him twice," Celia said. "I can't say that I liked him on either occasion. He seems very... opinionated, I guess you'd say?"
"It's okay, Celia," Jake said. "You can call an asshole an asshole if you want."
She laughed. "You said it, not me."
Pauline and Celia had never met before this night. They spent a few moments making the sort of requisite conversation two women make when they have been told about each other by a mutual acquaintance but had never met. Pauline complimented Celia on her earlier work with La Diferencia (she could not bring herself to compliment the last album, however — such a compliment would have been obviously patronizing) and the beauty of Celia's voice. Celia, in turn, complimented Pauline's obvious management and legal skills, particularly the revamp of the Intemperance contract — something that still had never been officially admitted to.