Chapter One

 

"Hey, check out the creepy guy!" Fan Fan giggled from the shallow end of the pool.

Stretched out on a sunbed, Charlotte tilted up her sunglasses and said, "My God! Who is that? The village idiot?"

Trudy opened her eyes just in time to spot the large, bespectacled man lumbering into the rose arbor. "Oh, that's the maintenance guy," she said vaguely. "He's been here like, forever, I think. Came with the house or something."

"Was he staring at us?" asked Charlotte.

"Of course he was dear," Fan Fan said. "Don't act so surprised-your bikini is so small you're practically naked!"

Charlotte reached for her towel and covered herself. "Yeah, but I wasn't expecting any men to be lurking around this early!"

"Listen to yourself!" Fan Fan chuckled. "You're paid absurd amounts of money to strut your stuff in front of the cameras, and now you're afraid of being looked at by one sad old country pervert!"

With that, Fan Fan took a deep breath and dove underwater, her tight Asian butt breaking the surface before slipping from view with hardly a ripple.

Charlotte continued to peer at the rose arbor until a solitary bumble bee hummed past, breaking her concentration. "God, I hate the countryside," she muttered, lighting a cigarette. "I do understand you have your reasons, Trudy my love, but I couldn't live way out here in the boondocks."

"It's Long Island!" Trudy sighed. "We're only an hour away from Manhattan!"

"Even so, sweetie," Charlotte said, blowing a line of smoke into the air. "Are you really sure you're ready for marriage?"

"We're only getting engaged for now," Trudy said.

"Exactly," Charlotte said. "You are twenty-two years old, absolutely gorgeous, and there is a thousand-mile-long queue of handsome men who are desperate to meet you! I think you should be careful before you rush into anything."

"Please! You're just jealous!" Trudy laughed.

Charlotte didn't respond to that and returned her attention to the rose arbor. Trudy sipped her drink and gazed around at the manicured hedges and terraced lawns surrounding the stacked stone, gabled cottage that she might one day be calling home. Charlotte did have a point she supposed, but wealthy, eligible bachelors like Eric Lyons didn't come along every day. He was a successful Wall Street broker and his parents were old money rich-they had a mansion on the North Shore, for heaven's sake!

"Do you think that old guy is still looking at us?" Charlotte said. "It's too dark in there to tell."

"Who cares?" Trudy said. "He's harmless enough."

"I don't know. He gives me the willies," Charlotte said.

Fan Fan resurfaced and blew a water spout into the air. "I'm famished! Can we do lunch at that seafood place on the beach?"

Trudy had to smile. Fan Fan was always hungry but there wasn't an ounce of spare fat on her skinny frame. Charlotte stubbed out her cigarette and said, "That sounds like an excellent idea to me. What time are the guests arriving?"

"Around seven," Trudy said. "We have plenty of time."

As they walked across the pool patio, she caught a bright flash out of the corner of her eye and she spun toward the rose arbor. Had that old guy just taken a photo of them? She watched for a short while but there was no movement in there, so she turned and caught up with the other two girls. So what if that sad lecher was ogling them? Fan Fan was right. They were models. They were paid to be looked at. If people didn't want to look at them, they would be out of a job.

Trudy took one final glance back at the rose arbor, and in spite of the late summer sunshine, goosebumps rose up all over her arms.

 

 

***

 

 

Hank was pretty sure the three girls couldn't see him through the trellis-he had checked out the light and angles before they had come to the pool-but if they could see him, they might be a little shocked by what he was holding in his hand right now! Anyway, they had surely spotted him going into the arbor, and he assumed that they were talking about him now because the blonde had draped a towel over her long legs and was staring in his direction. Girls liked to gossip, Hank knew. Girls had big mouths.

He watched as the skinny little Asian bitch dipped under the water and frog kicked her way to the deep end. She was wearing a sheer black one piece that contrasted with her pale skin. Hank imagined making her swim up and down naked for him, exhausted and embarrassed, until he gave her permission to stop. The blonde was also flaunting herself in a green bikini that barely covered her private bits. There was more shape to that one, bigger tits and wider hips, and he liked the way she held her cigarette between her pouting lips. The other girl was called Trudy, Master Eric's new fiancée, and she was dressed a little more modestly in a yellow tank top and cut down denims, but it was clear that she too had a body to die for.

But of course they were all smoking hot. They were New York City fashion models-right here in his garden! Hank continued to stroke himself as the Asian chick emerged from the shallow end again. It looked like they were leaving.

So soon, ladies? I've still only got a semi-but even that's almost seven inches!

He reached into his tool bag and took out his new Nikon camera with telephoto lens. He had told the shop assistant it was for wildlife photography. Right. He fired off a couple of shots of their firm asses and shapely legs as they made their way back to the cottage. Hot girls. Full of self-confidence and pride. The kind of girls that had been way out of Hank's league even when he was a young man. Even with his overdeveloped manhood, which instead of being a source of manly pride, had become a lifelong reminder of his social inferiority and ineptitude. Hank the horse-the school freak!

Trudy suddenly stopped and turned in his direction.

Damn! Did the flash just go off?

Hank froze and stared at her through the trellis, but after a few seconds she turned and went into the cottage with her friends. Hank put his camera into the bag and then tucked his cock back into his pants. He would get a closer look at Trudy at the party tonight. All three of them were babes but Trudy had something special-she reminded him of that smart mouthed school cheerleader from all those years ago.

 

 

***

 

 

The cottage was packed with guests, most of whom Trudy didn't even know-an eclectic mix of smooth Wall Street types, glamorous Fashion District people, and wealthy Gold Coast socialites. While they were doing their hospitality rounds, Eric got waylaid by a group of oily looking stockbrokers wearing Brooks Brothers suits, so Trudy took the opportunity to get some fresh air out on the patio.

Over by the pool, looking radiant in their party frocks, were Charlotte and Fan Fan, and Trudy edged through the crowd toward them. The guests had kind of dissolved into their respective cliques now, and Trudy saw that her boss, Anastasia Martin, was holding court nearby. Anastasia, an ex-model herself, was in her early fifties, but still a head turner.

"Trudy, my dear!" she said. "Have you lost your future husband already?"

"Not for long!" Trudy chuckled. "He hardly lets me out of his sight!"

"He's quite a catch," Anastasia said. "But honey, please don't let him talk you into giving up your career just yet, even with all his money. You have so much more to achieve."

"He has suggested no such thing," Trudy said. "On the contrary, I think he rather enjoys having a catwalk model for a fiancée!"

"I think the male term for it is arm candy," said Charlotte, catching Trudy's eye.

"It works both ways," Trudy said.

"True, Eric's not too shabby for a thirty-something," Charlotte said.

"But more important, he's rich, rich, rich!" laughed Fan Fan.

"I'm sure our Trudy's not just in it for the money," Anastasia said with a sly wink.

"It sure helps, though!" Fan Fan said. "I'd marry an octogenarian if he was a billionaire!"

"Even better!" said Charlotte. "Not so long to wait for the inheritance!"

Trudy tuned out of this inane babble and looked around for a drink. A waiter was standing close by with his back to them and she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, can I have a glass of wine-?"

The waiter turned around slowly and peered down at her through his thick tortoiseshell glasses-it was only the maintenance guy who had been watching them by the pool!

"I'm not a waiter," he said coolly.

"Oh, sorry!" Trudy let out an embarrassed giggle. "It was your white jacket!"

His eyes dropped down to Trudy's breasts and then he said, "I was invited."

"That's right, you're the handyman, um-?"

"Hank-and I'm actually the maintenance man."

"Right. Hank, the maintenance man. I'm Trudy and I-"

"I know who you are," Hank said. "You're engaged to Master Eric and this is your party."

"Uh, yes it is." Trudy glanced at Fan Fan who was pulling one of her silly faces.

Hank said, "I've lived here for thirty years, you know."

"Where?" asked Charlotte. "In the rose arbor?"

Fan Fan giggled and Trudy couldn't stop herself from smiling either.

"No," Hank said. "The guest house at the end of the garden."

Trudy hadn't ventured that far down the grounds and she didn't think she was ever likely to now. She smiled, "Well, I'm very sorry for the mistake-"

"You should come take a look some time," Hank said directly to Trudy. "It's nice there. Very secluded."

Fan Fan snorted champagne out of her nostrils and had to turn away.

Hank glared at her. "Something funny?"

"She's just a little drunk," Trudy said, but she saw that Fan Fan's shoulders were shaking and now Charlotte had the giggles too.

Hank returned his attention to Trudy. "Your friends are rude."

Trudy was also losing her composure now and she pressed the back of her hand to her lips. "Yes, they really are-I apologize for them!"

Hank's laser eyes kept boring into her as he said, "Were you a cheerleader by any chance?"

"What?"

"In high school?"

Trudy glanced at Charlotte who was still struggling to keep a straight face.

"Um, as a matter of fact, I was."

Hank nodded. "I figured as much."

Charlotte looked about to say something catty, but Anastasia, who had been briefly sidetracked by a nearby couple, pivoted around and said, "Girls, there are some people here that I absolutely want you to meet!"

She gave Hank a curt glance and took Trudy by the arm. "Excuse me."

Anastasia guided her three beautiful models across the patio and through the French doors to a stylish group of fashion industry acquaintances who gushingly congratulated Trudy on both her engagement and her budding career. Trudy smiled politely, took a glass of wine from a passing waiter, and drank it down in one. She looked back toward the pool, but Hank was already gone. There had been something disquieting about the way he had singled her out and invited her to visit him in the guest house. She flagged down the waiter again, put her empty glass on his tray, and took a fresh one.

When she turned around she was looking straight into the eyes of Blake Schroeder who flashed her a perfect set of laser-whitened teeth which were accentuated by his fake tan and designer stubble beard. Blake was one of Eric's work colleagues and he never missed an opportunity to send out crude signals that he very much wanted to get into Trudy's pants-the feeling wasn't mutual.

"Trudy! My congratulations!" Blake leaned in and Trudy stiffened as she took his friendly hug. "Let me say as one of Eric's closest friends that you are going to make him the happiest trader on Wall Street."

The hug lasted a fraction of a second too long, and Trudy pulled away first with Blake's stubble lightly scraping her cheek and the overpowering scent of his Paco Rabanne lingering in her nostrils.

Keeping a light hold on Trudy's wrist, Blake said, "I've invited you and Eric to a barbecue at our summer house in the Hamptons next week. I really hope you can make it."

"That would be up to Anastasia," Trudy said. "She manages my diary."

Blake looked at Anastasia as if noticing her for the first time. Anastasia said, "Anastasia Martin. Trudy's agent. We met at the fundraiser in Queens last month."

"Oh, right," Blake said, now also checking out Charlotte and Fan Fan.

"Your wife was with you," Anastasia reminded him. "What was her name?"

"Jacklyn," Blake said flatly.

Charlotte glanced at the wedding ring on his hand that was still resting on Trudy's wrist. "I take it you are still married?"

Blake frowned at her. "Of course."

"Is she here tonight?"

"Yes, she's-"

"Maybe you should go check up on her," Anastasia said. "She's a very attractive lady, and you know what these Wall Street wolves are like."

Blake slipped his hand off Trudy's wrist and gave Anastasia a cool smile. Then he patted Trudy on the arm, and said, "I do hope you can make it. Congratulations again."

He gave the others a cursory nod and then slipped into the crowd.

Charlotte blew hard out of her mouth. "Jeez! Did you small that cologne? What is going on here tonight?"

"Trudy is a creep magnet!" Fan Fan giggled.

"Don't worry, Trudy dear," Anastasia smiled. "I'll always take care of you."

Trudy raised her wine glass to her lips but it was already empty. She was about to flag down another when her phone rang. The number wasn't on her contact list, but she had a gut feeling she already knew who this was.

"Excuse me," she said. "I had better take this."

As she skirted the pool, she pressed the receive icon.

A familiar voice said, "Hey, baby. I really got to see you now-I'm in big trouble!"

Trudy's heart skipped a beat.

Mitch!