Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The following is a fictional parody, not approved of, nor authorized by,
the celebrities named.

   None of the events are true.

   This fictitious parody is protected speech under Hustler Magazine, Inc.,
et.  al.  v.  Jerry Falwell.

   No harm is intended toward the celebrities named.

   Furthermore, publication of any and all trademarks contained herein are
not authorized by, associated with, nor sponsored by the trademark owners.

   ~~~

   The Makeup Artist

   by Stephanie Rose

   (A sexy makeup artist loves her celebrity clients.)

   ~~~

   Chapter 8: Kimora Lee Simmons investigates the rumors.

   ~~~

   As I stood at the ticketing counter in JFK airport waiting for the
airline agent to complete my transaction, my entire body tingled as I
thought about what just happened.

   I was in New York City and the gorgeous fashion mogul Kimora Lee Simmons
had just set an appointment with me to check out my work.  I had no idea
whether she'd actually book me, but at least we'd get a chance to meet.

   Getting the opportunity to consult with such a driven, successful and
passionate woman was almost too much.  I loved confident and glamorous
businesswomen, and to see one so beautiful and so accomplished, up close,
was a dream come true.

   While the ticketing agent typed furiously on her keyboard, rescheduling
my flight back to Miami to two days later, I chuckled at the test Kimora
just put me through:

   About fifteen minutes prior, I was at the gate waiting to fly back home
to Miami.  I had just styled Alicia Keys in Manhattan for a long day of
promotion for her new movie and album.

   While I sat there waiting for my flight, Kimora called my cell phone
anonymously to get a list of my makeup artistry services and a quote for my
rates.  I gave her all the information and carefully explained my fee
structure.

   She then had one of her assistants call, in full KLS diva mode, to see
if I'd raise my rates based on her "celebrity" status.

   I didn't bite.  I gave her assistant the exact same information.  Though
human nature tempted me, artificially inflating my rates just wasn't me. 
Besides, I gave such great service that I often earned substantial tips.

   When Kimora called me back, she revealed that she had, in fact, been the
anonymous caller from earlier, and that she was impressed with my honesty.
As it turned out, she was so glad that I didn't try to gouge her assistant,
that she set an appointment to meet me the very next day.

   Fortunately for me, those three phone calls turned out to be the
ultimate win-win situation!

   Since Kimora was based in NYC, I decided to rebook my flight home for
two days later.  Thinking about her unforgettable style and her incredible
body, I hoped I'd be able to do great, profitable work for a fabulous
client and have a bit of hot and sexy fun too.

   But first, I needed a place to stay.  Smiling, I knew just what to do.

   After I got my new ticket and my luggage from the airline agent, I set
off for the rental car area to hire a car service for a ride back to
Manhattan.

   I noticed an airport transportation sign and headed in the direction of
the counter.  As I got closer, I saw a couple of customers already waiting.
I hurried to the back of the line and patiently waited for my turn.

   As I stood there, I watched the three rental agents behind the counter
that were helping the customers.  I smiled at the kindly, older woman, then
nodded at the young gentleman on the phone.  But when I saw the third
rental agent, I gasped.

   The woman was gorgeous.

   She had silky smooth medium brown skin, the color of soft, rich caramel.
Her lengthy dark hair was done up in a full, high ponytail.  She wore a
white silk v-neck blouse with a cute (and tight) cherry red sweater vest.
The soft material caressed her ample cleavage and I licked my lips at the
sight of brown skin peeking from the v-neck.

   I sent up a silent request to the Universe that she'd be the one to wait
on me.

   As the patrons in front of me moved ahead and were waited on, I thought
I saw her wink at me.  Taking a chance, I smiled and winked back.

   Finally, I made it to the front of the line.  The gorgeous woman
finished up with the last customer, then waved me ahead.

   "Thanks Universe," I whispered as I walked to her.

   "Hi there," she said with a warm smile.  "My name is Chantal.  How can I
help you?"

   "Hi.  I'm not sure if I'm in the right place.  I need a car service back
to Manhattan, please."

   "Certainly.  Can I have your name please?"

   "Nikii.  Nikii Clarke.  Clarke with an `e.'"

   She typed on her keyboard.  I watched her slim, brown fingers.  I
shivered as I imagined them deep inside me, teasing me to the ultimate
ecstasy.  "Down, girl," I mumbled as I chided myself.

   "Well, Ms.  Clarke, with an `e,'" she smiled, "I have a car service
that's available.  Sapphire Rose Transportation.  Are you familiar with
them?"

   I shook my head.  "No, I'm not."

   "Well, they're great," she said.  "I recommend them highly.  I know the
owner personally, so they'll take care of you."

   "Thanks.  I always appreciate extra attention."

   Chantal winked.  "We're certainly here to please."

   I caught her saucy wink.  I flushed as my entire body grew warm.

   She took my license, credit card and other information and typed in my
reservation.  Then she called the agency to make the arrangements.

   While I waited, I looked at her slim, brown fingers.  It took me a
minute to notice what was missing.  "No ring," I whispered.  "Good sign."

   She held the phone away from her ear and looked up.  "Excuse me?"

   "Nothing," I smiled.

   Chantal gave me a wry smile and went back to finish my reservation. 
Once all of the arrangements were made, she printed out a confirmation and
handed my license and credit card back to me.

   "You're all set," she said.  "A black Lincoln Town Car will be right
outside within ten minutes.  In the meantime, you can wait over there." She
pointed toward the waiting area facing the windows near the door.

   I looked outside.  The sun had set and the brilliant stars lit up the
night sky.

   "Thanks.  But before I go, tell me more about, what is it, Sapphire Rose
Transportation?"

   "Yes.  The owner is Mischa Konstantinov.  She's a friend of mine from
school."

   "Mischa Konstantinov?  She's Russian?"

   Chantal nodded.  "African - Ethiopian, I think - and Russian."

   My curiosity was piqued.  This Mischa woman sounded beautiful and
exotic.

   "She runs a thriving transportation business." Chantal added.  Then she
leaned in close.  "And she's a beast on the road.  She'll get you where you
need to go in no time."

   "Thanks," I laughed.  "And thanks for being such a big help."

   "Well, it was very nice meeting you, Ms.  Clarke with an `e,'" she said
as she handed me her business card.  "I hope you enjoy your stay in New
York.  And if you need any other assistance while you're here, don't
hesitate to call us again."

   I glanced at the card, making a mental note of the number, then slid the
card inside my purse.  "Thanks, Chantal."

   She looked down at my bags.  "Oh, let me get a skycap to help you with
your luggage." She waved over a strapping, young man.

   I smiled as the handsome skycap gathered my bags.  As we started to walk
away, I turned back to her.  "You've been a big help.  And if I need
anything, I'll most definitely give you a call.  And who knows?  Maybe
we'll meet again."

   "I have a feeling we will," she smirked as she waved goodbye.

   As I stood in the waiting area looking out the window for my driver, I
pulled out my phone, quickly dialed a number that I knew by heart and left
a brief message:

   "Hey Sam!  It's Nikii.  I'm still in NYC!  Where can I crash?  Call
me..."

   Five minutes later, my phone rang and I answered quickly.  "Hello?"

   "Nikii!" the soft voice exclaimed.

   "Hey Samantha!  How are you?"

   "I'm good.  I'm glad I didn't miss seeing you!  You're still in town,
right?" she asked.

   "Yes.  My plans changed and I scored a big meeting tomorrow morning!"

   "Oooh!  Congratulations!" she beamed.

   "Thanks.  I'm at the airport.  I was about to fly back to Miami.  But I
just got a car and I'm on my way back to Manhattan."

   "Good," she said.  "You'll stay here, so get your ass over here now. 
I'll be looking out for you."

   "Thanks, hon.  See you soon," I said, hanging up.

   On a whim, I walked outside to enjoy the warm New York night air.  As I
stood there, a jet-black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of me at the
curb and a gorgeous woman hopped out.  She had soft, light brown skin and
long, dark, wavy hair that flowed from underneath a limo driver's cap.

   "Ms.  Clarke?"

   "Yes?"

   She held out her hand.  "Privet!  Dobriy Vecher!  I'm Mischa, with
Sapphire Rose Transportation," she said with a thick Eastern European
accent.  "I'm at your service."

   While I loved the feel of her soft, silky hand, I really loved her firm,
confident grip.  "Nice to meet you.  And the Russian?  What did you just
say?  At the beginning?"

   She laughed.  "I said `Hi and Good Evening.'" She looked at my luggage.
"Where can I take you?"

   "I'm going to Manhattan.  Trump Tower.  The hotel in midtown.  At
Columbus Circle, Central Park and Broadway."

   Mischa quickly grabbed my bags.  "I know exactly where that is."

   Her thick, sexy voice continued to seep right into my consciousness. 
"And, by the way, I love your accent," I said.

   "My dad is Russian.  And Jewish.  My mom is Ethiopian.  I think I got
the best of both worlds."

   "Wow," I whispered as I eyed her slim, fit body.  "You sure did." Though
she was dressed in a dark blue uniform, her figure was noticeable
underneath her clothes.  I licked my lips at her beautiful face, hair, skin
and figure.

   After Mischa put my bags in the trunk, she turned to me.  "I know the
rental agent, Chantal," she said in her beautifully raw accent.

   "I heard.  She said you were a great driver.  And she said that you'd
take good care of me."

   "I will.  I promise," she said with a wicked grin.

   I smiled back.  Things were going to get wild now.

   Once I was settled in the back seat, she hopped in and pulled off.  She
was careful and cautious at first, but we quickly picked up speed once we
got to the expressway.  Too much speed, in my opinion.

   Suddenly, she swerved to avoid a car that had veered in front of us. 
"Bljad'!  Whore!"

   I began to get nervous.

   "Don't worry," she said, glancing at me in the rear view mirror.  "I
just get a bit...how do you say...excited?"

   I laughed, but remained cautious.  "I trust you," I said.  "But I have
to admit, you're a bit too pretty to be such a beast on the road."

   We drove in silence for a few minutes, then she looked at me in the
mirror again.

   "So," she asked, "why are you in New York?  Work?"

   "Yes.  I'm having a business meeting."

   "With whom?"

   I was silent.

   "You aren't gonna keep secrets from me now, are you?" she chuckled.  "I
thought we were better than that?"

   A wicked smile spread across my face.

   "You know...we Russians have a way of finding out secrets..."

   "Whatever," I said as I rolled my eyes in mock disgust.  "Since you're
all in my business...it's with Kimora Lee Simmons."

   "Mrs.  Simmons?" Mischa said, her voice rising an octave.  "The fashion
girl?"

   "Yes.  Her."

   "I drove her last month.  Long legs, that one."

   I smiled.  Thinking of Kimora's long, lean and luscious legs started a
deep tingle between my own legs.  "Yeah," I whispered.

   She was silent for a few moments before speaking again.  "Ti takaya
prelesnaya," she said.  "You a Rozovuy?"

   Huh?  "Excuse me?"

   She laughed.  "I said, `You are so cute.' And I asked if you are a
Rozovuy?' Means you like girls.  A lesbian, no?"

   I smiled.  "Yes.  Da."

   She laughed.  "I teach you more Russian very soon.  In my bed, da?"

   Then her cell phone rang.  She clicked into her earpiece, listened for a
few seconds, then launched into a spirited conversation with the caller in
Russian.

   "Mne nasrát', chto ty dúmaesh!  (I don't give a shit what you think!)
I'll be back when I'm ready!" She listened for a few more moments.  "Vali
otsjúda!  (Fuck off!)"

   Again, I had no idea what she was saying, but I was sure it involved
more than a few curse words.

   She clicked off the phone, then looked in the rear view mirror.  "I'm
sorry.  I own the company.  Sometimes I have to settle disputes."

   We rode in silence for a few moments.  Then she spoke.

   "I have a confession to make.  After you left the desk, Chantal called
me back and said that you were a gorgeous woman that needed a ride back to
the city.  And that I should come myself." She winked.  "I'm glad I did."

   I blushed.  "I'm glad you did too."

   "Interested?"

   Interested?  Just like that?  "Ummm," I stammered.

   "Don't worry.  Sometimes I'm too direct.  I'll give you time to think
about it," she said confidently.

   Forty minutes later, the car service pulled up in front of Trump Tower
in Manhattan.  As Mischa let me out, a slim bellhop grabbed my luggage.

   "Is Samantha Reynolds here tonight?" I asked the handsome gentleman.

   "Yes, Ms.  Clarke.  She's expecting you."

   I looked up, surprised he knew my name.

   He read my expression and smiled.  "Ms.  Reynolds told me to look out
for a gorgeous woman who'd ask for her directly." He eyed me seductively.
"It was definitely an understatement," he winked.

   I blushed.

   "Ms.  Reynolds is inside.  I'll radio her and let her know you're
coming," he said as he took my bags and went inside.

   I turned to Mischa.  "I had a good time.  Thanks for the ride."

   "Anytime." Her thick, dark hair gleamed under the bright lights outside
the hotel.

   I couldn't leave her quite yet.  "Actually...I need a car tomorrow..."

   "What time, Mat'?"

   I frowned.  "Mat'?"

   She grinned.  "It means "Hot mama."

   I suddenly grew warm.  "Um, 10:30.  In the morning.  I have a meeting at
11."

   I'll be here." She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. 
"Dobroy Nochi.  Good night, Króshka.  I'll see you in the morning."

   "Króshka?"

   She leaned in close.  "It means Baby." She kissed me again, then quickly
hopped into her car and pulled off.

   I rubbed my cheek as I watched her leave.

   Coming back to my senses, I walked inside, through the beautiful gilded
walkway, toward the smiling brown face at the front desk.

   Samantha sprinted from behind the desk to hug me hard.  "Nikii!" she
exclaimed.

   "Samantha!" I cried.  "What's up, Cousin?"

   "Nothing much, hon!" She hugged me again.

   "Damn!" I looked around, stunned at the luxurious opulence of the hotel.
"I have to admit, Cuz.  I love your damned job!" We laughed as we hugged
again.

   She sighed.  "Well, I love it too!  Being the Executive Vice President
of Guest Relations at Trump Tower is a bitch sometimes.  But the perks are
incredible."

   ~~~

   Less than ten minutes later, we were chilling in Samantha's suite.  Both
of us were lying on the bed eating a bag of sour cream and onion potato
chips and watching TV.  As we lay there, she flipped through my photo book.
"These shots are awesome, Cuz!" I'm so impressed!" She flipped to my new
pictures.  "And you just did these in the past week?"

   "Yep."

   "Cool!"

   "So how's your dad?" I asked.

   She looked up.  "Why don't you just call your uncle and ask him
yourself?"

   "Smartass," I clipped.  "So," I asked.  "What's it like to work here? 
Is `he' a fair boss?"

   "Pretty much like anywhere else.  Some good days, some bad days.  But
the experience can't be matched.  I'm getting hands-on experience daily in
one of the best hotels in the world."

   "What I'm waiting for," I chided, "is for you to open up your own hotel.
Your own spa, even."

   "Believe me, Cuz, I'm definitely taking notes.  One day soon." She
picked up the bag of chips and reached in, taking a handful.  "And I'm
gonna hire you to coordinate the spa makeovers."

   "Of course I will." I laughed.  "And I want my percentage ownership
interest in the business too."

   She giggled.  "How much do you want?"

   "My usual.  One percent."

   Her head jerked up.  "Why so low?"

   "I'm not trying to gouge you.  You're my blood.  We're family.  One
percent is fine." Then I paused.  "But I do want free spa services for me
and a guest for life."

   She burst out laughing.  "For life?  Damn, cuz.  For you and your
`girlfriends'?" She laughed even harder.  "And you say you're not trying to
gouge me?  Shit, your ass'll be there every damned weekend.  Eating me out
of house and home.  Well, house and spa."

   We laughed.  Then she got serious.  "But I'm telling you right now. 
You're not turning my spa into a brothel."

   "What?" I had the nerve to act surprised.

   "Don't even try it!  You know what I mean.  You like girls.  I do too.
That's cool." She grabbed more chips out of the bag.  "But you've not had a
shortage of girlfriends since you came out.  And now the grapevine is
buzzing about you and certain celebrities."

   "What?" My eyes widened.

   "Yes.  So, again, you're not turning my hotel into a bordello.  And
that's final!"

   We laughed, but an idea started forming in my mind.  An exclusive resort
where women can relax and be free?  Free to explore themselves and each
other with the strictest of privacy?

   Cuz had just set my mind racing on a whole new track.

   "I'm not playing, Nikii.  I see your thoughts moving!"

   I burst out laughing and hugged my younger cousin.  "I promise I'll be
good."

   She looked at me sideways.

   I think we both knew I was lying my ass off.

   ~~~

   The next morning, I awoke, bathed and dressed quickly.  Because I was so
excited to meet Kimora, I barely slept.  Needing some caffeine, I ordered a
carafe of hazelnut-favored coffee from room service.  Once I was fully
awake, I carefully applied my makeup and checked my outfit.  Feeling good
about my appearance, I packed my makeup case and readied my portfolio.

   A few minutes later, the front desk called to say my car from Sapphire
Rose Transportation had arrived ready.  I hurried downstairs and was
quickly ushered outside.

   "Good morning, Madame," Mischa said as she opened the rear door of the
Lincoln Town Car.  "How did you sleep?"

   "Good, thanks." I smelled her perfume as I slid into the seat.  Her
soft, fresh scent immediately made me tingle.

   "Please take me to 512 7th Avenue.  At 7th and West 38th.  The Navarre
Building."

   I settled into the back of the car as Mischa slid into the driver's seat
and prepared to deliver me to the Baby Phat corporate offices.  My meeting
with Kimora was at 11am sharp and my nerves were on edge.

   Just as she was about to shift into gear, my cell phone chimed.  The
number was unfamiliar, but it was definitely a New York exchange.

   My stomach sunk.  I hoped that it wasn't Kimora calling to cancel.  I
tapped on the headrest to keep her from pulling off.

   "Hello.  This is Nikii." I could feel my heart pounding.

   A seductive voice came on the line.  "Hi.  This is Malia.  Malia Lowe.
I'm one of the stylists for Kimora Lee Simmons.  We spoke yesterday,
remember?  How are you today?"

   "Yes, Ms.  Lowe.  I remember.  I'm just fine, thanks.  And you?"

   "Great!  But Kimora's schedule is really tight today.  I'm going to have
to push your meeting back a bit."

   Anything but cancel, I thought.  Time for my backup plan.  A pre-emptive
strike, of sorts.  I needed to get her attention.

   "Well, Malia," I interrupted, "How about this?  I'm staying at the Trump
Tower while I'm in New York.  Maybe Mrs.  Simmons would like to meet me
here?  We can either have a quick lunch in the hotel restaurant, or we can
have room service in my suite.  That way, I can at least treat her to lunch
for being gracious enough to even meet with such a new beauty
professional."

   I stopped talking and held my breath.

   I sensed her smile through the phone.  "Well that sounds nice.  Very
generous.  Please hold for a moment."

   She wasn't even gone a full minute.  "I'm back, Nikii.  Kimora thinks
that's a fabulous idea.  We'll already be on that side of town, so we'll
meet you there at about 1:30pm."

   "Oh.  You're joining us?" I was so wrapped up in Kimora that I barely
noticed the soft voice I was speaking to.  Was she down?

   Her seductive reply left no doubt in my mind.

   "I'm absolutely joining you two.  I wouldn't miss it," she cooed.

   Thanking her, I hung up.

   Jumping out of the car, I leaned into the driver's side window and told
Mischa that my plans had changed.

   "Fine, Milaya moya," she smiled.  "That means `My sweet.'"

   I blushed, then I frowned.  "Mischa?  I'm sorry that work's getting in
the way, but I really want to see you again."

   "Then just call me when you need me.  But for now, go handle your
business," she winked.

   Without another word, she sped off.  I looked wistfully at the car as
she pulled off, wondering if I'd ever see my Russian beauty again.  I was
also a bit miffed that she'd leave so quickly.

   However, I had to get back to work.  I needed to get ready for one of
the most important meetings of my life.

   And Samantha was going to help me do it.

   ~~~

   At just before 1:30pm, Samantha and I put the finishing touches on her
suite.  Knowing Kimora loved soft romantic colors, especially pink, I
picked up a few items at a craft store near the hotel.

   We decorated the room with pink and red candles.  Their delicate rose
scent left an aromatic fragrance without overpowering the room.  I also
bought a few gold and silver beads and other accents.  I placed them around
the room for a more sensuous vibe.

   I even picked up a gold faux-fur throw for the bed.  I hoped its sexy
and sensual feel would create the perfect ambiance.

   Samantha willingly agreed to help, but even as we finished, she wasn't
convinced.  "Hey Cuz?  One thing I'm confused about.  How do you know she
won't want to eat in the hotel restaurant?  Or somewhere else?  How are you
so sure she's coming up here?"

   "First, I really don't know for sure," I admitted.  "But I figure that
she'd at least want to meet me, if just to see what all the fuss is about.
Second, I'm sure she's very discreet.  Neither of us wants to get snapped
by the paparazzi today, so it would be best to meet in private.  And third,
this is a gorgeous suite, compliments of my favorite cousin.  How could she
resist?" I joked.

   Samantha frowned.  "You're gonna turn my hotel into a brothel, aren't
you?"

   I grinned.  I couldn't even lie to her.

   ~~~

   The hotel phone rang promptly at 1:30pm.

   My hands shook as I answered.  "Yes?"

   "Ms.  Clarke?  This is Todd at the front desk.  Mrs.  Simmons and Ms. 
Lowe are here to see you."

   "Thanks.  Please send them up."

   In the past few hours, I kept my mind busy with organizing just how to
make the perfect impression on one of my biggest fashion and business
idols. But now, with only minutes left, my nerves were nearly frazzled.

   I had to gain my composure, and do it quick.

   I took one last look in the full-length mirror to check myself out.  I
immediately relaxed when I saw how great I looked and how much care I put
into my appearance.

   My shoulder-length hair was jet-black, shiny and healthy-looking.  I
used a hot curler to give myself full, soft bouncy curls that swayed freely
past my shoulders.

   I wore a deep-brown silk wrap dress that caressed my every curve.  The
rich chocolate material looked exquisite against my skin and fit me
perfectly.  And the best part?  As with most wrap dresses, this one would
be a cinch to remove.

   And a quick removal would be critical because, underneath, I had a
special surprise in store for Mrs.  Simmons and Ms.  Lowe.  My pièce de
résistance, I chuckled.  They'd never see it coming.

   After several more agonizing moments, I heard a soft knock.  Here goes,
I mused as I opened the door to the suite.

   A wide smile broke out onto my face at the two gorgeous women standing
before me.  I ushered them in graciously.

   The lovely Malia Lowe entered first.  Malia's satiny dark brown skin was
luminous and I had a sudden urge to stroke it gently to feel her warm skin
underneath my fingertips.  Looking at her features, I guessed immediately
that she had a distinct African heritage.  Her grace, style and beauty
reminded me of the lovely model Iman.

   Malia was about 5'9", with a tight, curvy frame.  Her long, thick black
hair had been plaited back into tiny microbraids that swayed with her every
step.  She wore a thin, tan sundress that hit just above her knee.  Staring
at her silky mocha skin, my nipples immediately hardened.  Feeling the soft
silk of my dress brush against my newly-hardened peaks gave me a delicious
thrill.

   But the best was yet to come.

   In walked the famed Kimora Lee Simmons.  All 6'4" of her.  Holding a
jeweled cell phone and chatting animatedly, she was in full-on mogul mode.

   And I was starstruck.

   Luxury and opulence seemed to ooze from her every pore.  Clad in a
deep-gold, silk brocade top and a dark denim miniskirt, Kimora's soft,
light brown skin shone like a high-priced gemstone.  A stylishly-hot pair
of leopard-print stilettos perfectly accentuated her fashionable style.

   Her wild mass of jet-black wavy hair gave her a dramatic, extravagant
flair.  Expensive jewelry, made up of feminine gold bracelets and
glittering diamonds, adorned her neck, fingers and wrists.  An oversized,
pink snakeskin designer handbag, slung over one shoulder, completed her
bold look.

   She continued chatting on her phone as she stood tall and regal in the
middle of the room.  I grew warmer as I admired her tight, trim figure.  I
started with her warm, sultry dark eyes and her bright, dazzling smile,
then continued down to her long, lean neck that sloped beautifully into
strong shoulders.  I noticed that her top was open, and I caught a flash of
black lace around her creamy, round breasts.

   As I gazed lower, I smiled as I took in her miniskirt.  I secretly hoped
she'd wear one and I was gleeful that she did.  First, because I needed to
look at her long, trim legs.  Second, because if all went as planned, I
needed easy access to the insanely expensive, pink Hope diamond deep
between her thighs.

   Regaining my composure, I introduced myself and offered them a seat at
the dining room table.  Kimora looked at me silently for a few beats.

   "You're cute," she admitted.  "And I've heard quite a bit about you. 
All of which has yet to be proven.  But you're definitely cute," she
smiled.

   Just then, we heard a knock at the door.  The handsome bellhop arrived
with our room service order and we settled in for a quick lunch.  Since I
was positive she'd stayed here before, I begged Samantha to look up
Kimora's file to see what she usually ordered.  Risking her job, Samantha
went all out to help me impress the fashion icon.

   The bellhop ushered in a rolling cart filled with all of Kimora's
favorite foods, with everything hot and ready to eat.  A tray of her
favorite drinks followed closely behind.

   While we were getting comfortable, I noticed that Kimora was strangely
silent.  I'd seen her TV show and I knew she was quite outspoken.  I was a
bit nervous about her reticence, so I made sure to ask if she was ok and if
she needed anything.

   She politely declined and went back into her own world.

   After a few moments, however, once she realized how hard I was working
to impress her, she loosened up over the meal and began to relax.  She was
still a bit guarded, though.

   But I could hardly blame her.  She didn't know me at all, so I didn't
think she'd reveal too much, too soon.

   Thankfully, during our lunch, Malia did most of the talking.  I found
out that she was from Somalia, the same country as the model Iman.  Malia
was very open about her heritage and her experiences of growing up in such
a beautiful African country.  I enjoyed her stories about her birthplace
and was enthralled by the beauty and elegance of her country.

   After twenty minutes or so, Kimora set her knife and fork down and
pushed her chair back a bit.  "Alright," she said as she picked up her
napkin.  Then she delicately wiped the corners of her mouth.  As a result,
my focusing on her beautifully full lips was inevitable.

   However, her clipped voice quickly brought me back to reality.  "Ok,
Nikii.  Let's get down to business, because I really don't have much time.
Now, I've heard a lot about your talent.  So I want you to show me what you
can do.  What you can really do.  But on Malia first."

   What?  "Excuse me?" I stuttered.

   "Show me how good you are," Kimora said as she leaned back in her chair,
eyes intently on me.

   Right here with Malia first?  She wants me to do Malia first, right
here? Right in front of her?

   She's wild as hell.  My kinda girl, I chuckled.

   "I'm dying to see your makeup techniques," Kimora added.

   Makeup?  Oh, right.  I shook my head.  I'm a horny-ass dog, I chuckled.

   "Come this way, Ms.  Lowe." I ushered Malia to a plush chair I'd set in
front of a large vanity table.  The vanity's attached mirror was large
enough for all of us to see our reflections.

   I handed Kimora my updated photo book.  "Mrs.  Simmons, while you're
waiting, please check out these pictures of my work."

   Thankfully, Alicia Keys' photographer emailed me the pictures from her
photo shoot.  When I got to the hotel and met up with Sam, I immediately
emailed them to her and she got me color prints to add to my photo book.  I
hoped that Kimora would love the new looks.

   Malia gingerly took a seat at the vanity as I quickly grabbed one of my
makeup brushes.  Thankfully, I'd already set out a few eyeshadows and
lipsticks just in case Kimora wanted to assess my supplies and equipment.
Kimora pulled her chair over, sat directly behind me and watched me as I
worked

   I quickly removed Malia's makeup so I could start with a clean canvass.
Next, I applied a bit of primer and moisturizer to protect her face, then I
started on her foundation.  I explained each step so that Kimora could be
sure that I knew my craft.

   Once I gave Malia's silky-smooth mocha skin its base, I decided to use
rich, regal colors to complement her gorgeous face and features.  I started
with a soft lavender just underneath her eyebrows and worked my way to a
rich violet shade for her eyelids.  A few swipes of black eyeliner and
black mascara gave her eyes a dramatic look.  Then I applied a deep, rich
plum to her cheeks, mirrored the color on her lips and added just a hint of
lipgloss to finish her look.

   Every so often, I noticed Kimora studying me carefully.  I saw her
eyebrows lift as she watched my body move.  As I felt my attraction to her
rise, I made sure to put an extra twist in my hips for her enjoyment.

   "How's this?" I asked when I finished.

   Malia peered in the mirror.  "Wow." She turned to Kimora.  "I like it. I
haven't worn plum shades in a while.  I tend to stick to golds and browns."
She turned to and fro, admiring her reflection.  "But I like it.  It makes
my skin pop." She touched my hand and sparks shot through me.  "I really
love it, Nikii," she whispered as she stroked my skin.

   My nipples tightened again and a deep throbbing began between my legs.

   Kimora just nodded at my work.  "Ok.  Pretty good.  But show me what
else you've got."

   I got somewhat nervous at her abruptness.  Then I saw her sly wink.  I
relaxed a bit.

   I quickly removed the makeup and started all over again, this time with
rich golds and subtle browns that Malia was used to.  I first used deep
chocolate shades to even out her base.  I then added lush golden tones on
her eyes, cheeks and lips to give her an opulent and elegant look.

   "Ok.  What about this?" I asked as Malia looked in the mirror.

   "I love it," Malia said.  "So rich and gorgeous." She looked at Kimora.
"What do you think, KiKi?"

   Again, Kimora nodded.  "Good.  But there's something else I need to
see."

   I looked up to see Kimora staring at me in the mirror.  Then she winked.

   Feeling the palpable erotic tension, I knew just what was coming next.

   "Nikii," she whispered.  "Do her."

   I needed no further instruction.  I reached out, gently took Malia's
hand in mine and led her over to the bed.  Malia stood at the foot of the
bed and winked at me.  Then, in one fell swoop, she reached for the hem of
her minidress and pulled it up and over her body and tossed it on the
floor.

   Malia's dark, nude body gleamed with excitement.  Her thick, rigid
nipples sat high on her chest.  Her gentle curves sloped into a slender
waist and rounded hips.  Her long, lean legs called to me, begging me to
lick and suck the taut, delicate skin.  Catlike, she slid onto the bed,
turned over onto her back, opened her legs wide and closed her eyes.

   I quickly stripped naked and lay next to her on top of the faux-fur
fabric on the bed.  As I drew her into an erotic embrace, my lips were
immediately drawn to her long, regal neck.  I kissed and nipped at the
perfumed flesh until her scent became a part of me.  I licked long strokes
from her neck to her earlobe and back again.  My tongue wiggled against her
skin until she squirmed in delight.

   Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kimora slide her chair over to the
bed and put a foot up on the night table.  Then she slipped her hand into
her blouse.  A second later, her other hand slid underneath her miniskirt.
I low moan escaped her lips and her eyes closed into slits.  I smiled as
her fingers moved busily inside her soft pink panties.

   Inflamed, I went back to Malia's soft, smooth skin.  I kissed and
caressed her neck, then made my way down to her shoulders.  I slowly laved
her heated flesh until she began to lose control.

   "Ahhhh, Nikii!" Malia cried.  "That feels so good.  More, baby!  More!"

   Then I leaned lower, drawn to the raised peaks of her perfect breasts. I
grasped them in both hands and rubbed and stroked her firm flesh.  I felt
her heart pounding as I leaned down and pressed my face against her chest.
I kissed the place where her heart was, then trailed a line of kisses from
that spot to the tip of her right breast.

   "Nikii," Malia wailed.  "Please!"

   My tongue worked delicate circles around the stiff peak.

   "Ohhhhh!" Malia wriggled in my grasp.

   Needing much more, I licked and teased the skin on her taut stomach,
working my way to her luscious hips.  I kissed her all over, loving the way
she squirmed on the bed.

   Then I reached her erotic core.  She had silky smooth skin at the
juncture between her legs.  She spread her legs and I gazed at the pretty
brown lips and the candy-pink flesh deep inside this exotic beauty.

   I leaned in and kissed her mound.  Then I kissed again.  And again.  Her
silky skin felt like heaven.

   "Ooooh," she sighed.  "Eat me, baby!  Please!"

   I used my fingers to gently spread her open.  Her intimate fragrance
went straight to my brain, setting me on fire.  I drew closer and gently
kissed the soft, chocolate lips.  Then my tongue, on its own mind, slipped
out of my mouth and into her sugary wetness.

   "Yesss!" she cried as I licked with gentle and sure strokes.  "That's
it, honey!"

   I buried my face in her honey and drank deeply.

   I could hear Kimora's faint moans as she continued pleasuring herself.
The erotic sounds rang in my ears and urged me on to greater passions.

   I laved Malia's tender flesh over and over, sending her into an erotic
frenzy.

   "Make me cum, Nikii," she moaned as she twisted and turned on the fur
throw.  Her hands clutched the sheets underneath and her arms and legs were
tense with passion.

   I licked my fingers and slid them inside the sticky wetness.

   "Ohhh!" Malia said as she nearly leapt off the bed.  "Ohhh yesss!"

   I licked harder, more determined than ever to bring this chocolate
beauty to a delicious orgasm.

   Malia began to tremble.  "Oh, Nikii!" Her body tensed as she raced
toward an explosive climax.

   "More, baby!  More!" Malia's grip tightened in my hair as I licked her
pink gem in record speed.

   I lapped faster and faster as more of her perfumed essence seeped from
her core and onto my tongue.

   Then Malia let out a long wail.  "Ahhhhhh!" She shuddered as her body
twisted and turned on the bed.

   Right next to me, I heard a deep moan come from Kimora's lips.

   Finally, Malia began to calm down.  "Ooooh," she sighed.  "Oh my
goodness!"

   Unable to resist this African queen, I kissed her gently on the lips. 
After a second, she kissed back.

   Then I heard Kimora clearing her throat.  I looked up to see her
standing near the bed.  She'd readjusted her clothes and had a wicked smile
on her lips.  She gazed at us for a moment.  Then she licked her lips. 
"Very nice, Nikii.  Very nice." She chuckled softly.  "I'm impressed."

   Then she reached down, stroked Malia's tiny braids and spoke softly. 
"How was it, Mali?"

   Malia closed her eyes and sighed.  "Incredible," she purred.  Then Malia
opened her eyes and turned to me.  "Nikii's very talented," she said as her
eyes twinkled.  I blushed at the compliment.

   Kimora reached out and wound her fingers in my hair.  "Make me cum
again," she whispered as she pulled me toward the edge of the bed and
ground my face into her shaven pussy.

   "Ahhh," Kimora sighed as my tongue made contact with her sensitive clit.
"Yessss!"

   I was on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed, hanging on for dear
life as she gripped my hair and directed my movements.  Though pain shot
through me, the taste and feel of her on my lips made up for the temporary
discomfort.

   "Nikii, yes!" she cried as I flicked my eager tongue back and forth on
her plump pussy lips.  I smacked my lips on her soft, shaved skin, sending
sharp thrills through her entire body.

   Feeling her legs tense, I drank more deeply, loving her tangy taste of
her thick, sticky passion.  I loved the raw essence of such a beautiful,
exotic woman and I wanted more.  So much more.

   I slid my hands underneath her ass and gripped tightly.  Then, with a
force of strength abnormal to me, I yanked her body forward and slid my
tongue in even more deeply into her heated depths.

   "Oh fuck!" she screamed.  "Deeper, Nikii!  Deeper!"

   Her moans increased and her thighs tightened around my head, nearly
trapping me in her sweet and syrupy elixir.  I thrust my in and out, then
swirled it around her turgid clit.

   Her sweetness imprinted itself deep inside of me as I lapped even
harder. Then I drew back a bit, pointed my tongue and flicked it back and
forth over the entire expanse of her pussy.  Her soft, light brown skin
glistened as I worked my magic all over her.

   She continually cried out in her excitement.  Malia stroked her hair,
cooing and urging her closer to her completion.

   Meanwhile, needing a taste of her dark rosebud, I took my fingers and
spread her even wider.  Then I took a long lick from the very bottom to the
very top of her nether region.  Then I went back down and wiggled my tongue
right at her ass.

   "Yes!" Kimora nearly leapt off the bed in ecstasy.  "Lick my ass!  Oh
God, yes!"

   Keeping her spread open with my fingers, I took long, luscious laps at
her entire erotic essence.  I teased her everywhere: from her sensitive
clit to the dark region between her firm ass cheeks.

   Returning to her sweet clit, over and over again I licked and sucked
that sweet, special jewel until she was insane with passion.  I moved
faster until I built up such a strong rhythm of tongue strokes that she
began to twist and contort uncontrollably.

   "I'm cumming!  Oh my God, Nikii!  I'm cumming!"

   With a wicked grin, I slid my middle finger deep inside, searching
desperately for her sweet spot.  I pushed micro-inches at a time, looking
for the signal that I'd hit my mark.  After several gentle attempts, I
finally reached the soft, spongy flesh deep inside her.

   "Shit!" Kimora cried.  "Oh fuck!"

   "Got it," I murmured into her wet depths.  I rotated my finger inside of
her as I doubled up on my tongue-lashing.  Then her back arched and I knew
she was done.

   "Yesss!" she screamed as her climax hit hard.  The bursts of liquid
sweetness were hot on my tongue.

   I kept drinking the sugary nectar until she stopped shivering.  I sat up
on the bed, not sure of what would happen next.

   Several minutes passed as she lay there panting.  "Oooooh," she purred
as she began to move.

   Finally, she began to regain her composure.  She rose up and sat against
the headboard.  Then she smiled at me.  "Good," she murmured.  "Very good."
Then she glanced at her watch.  "But I have to get going." she said as she
quickly put on her clothes.

   As Malia crawled out of bed and began to dress, Kimora strode across the
room and picked up her large, pink, ostrich skin designer handbag.  "And,
by the way, Nikii, I did check out your portfolio.  It's pretty good." She
paused.  "For a rookie."

   Kimora winked at me, then she chuckled.  Now more relaxed after our
tensions had been relieved, we all shared a laugh at her joke.

   Calming down, she then got serious.  "But, Nikii, on the real?  I've
been in the fashion industry for a long time.  And I've had my makeup done
a million times.  So trust me when I say that you have some natural
talent." She opened her handbag and dug around in it.  After a moment, she
looked up.  "But one thing's missing.  You know what it is?"

   "More experience?" I said as I finally rose from the bed and slipped on
a plush robe.

   Kimora smiled.  "Yes.  But no.  Actually, you're missing an important
technique: Airbrush makeup," she said as she kept fishing around for
something in her oversized handbag.  "Keep one thing in mind, Nikii: Every
celeb I know wants the newest and the latest.  Traditional makeup
techniques are fine for a rookie, but I promise you, if you learn how to
airbrush, you can triple your rates easily."

   My ears perked up at the word "triple."

   Kimora finally pulled her pink Swarovski crystal-encrusted BlackBerry
out of her handbag, then she turned back to me.  "Have you heard of
airbrushing?"

   I nodded.  I'd seen some late-night infomercials about the technique. 
I'd also heard that makeup artists in Hollywood have been airbrushing their
clients for years.

   Airbrushing involved pouring a tiny amount of liquid foundation into the
reservoir of a small airbrush machine.  Once the machine's compressor was
turned on, the makeup artist would then activate the airbrush, which would
gently spray the foundation across the client's face.  The entire process
took half the time of normal makeup application, and the coverage from
airbrushing was said to be virtually flawless.

   Kimora, speaking quickly as she worked her BlackBerry, broke my reverie.
"I'm sending a text message to my airbrush machine sales rep, Vivienne
Rothschild.  I've worked with Viv a long time." Kimora typed furiously for
a few seconds.  "What's your number, Nikii?"

   I gave it to her as she continued typing.

   "Ok.  It's done," she said as she finished typing.  Then she went over
to the mirror over the vanity and checked her appearance.  Kimora smoothed
back her hair, adjusted her clothes, then smiled brilliantly into the
mirror.  My heart melted at the sight.

   She turned back to me.  "Ok, Nikii.  Viv will give you a call soon. 
When she does, I want you to set up a consultation." Then she paused. 
"Well, what I really want you to do is go ahead and purchase a machine. 
And when you buy one, Viv'll give you a few training sessions."

   I nodded as Malia gathered the last of her and Kimora's things and went
to stand by the door.

   Kimora followed her, then stopped in mid-stride.  She thought for a
moment.  "Listen.  I'll tell you what: I'm going to Los Angeles in a couple
of weeks for a special event.  It's a huge tribute to a mega-superstar.  If
you're up on airbrushing by then, maybe I can use you for my team?  It'll
be a huge event, with lots of industry people, so you can learn a lot. 
Think about it, ok?"

   She slung her handbag over her shoulder and went to the door.  "Make
sure Malia has all your contact info.  Text her later if you need to.  And
if you meet with Viv, she'll give me a call and let me know if you're up to
speed.  If you're good enough, Malia'll get back to you about the event,
capiche?"

   "Capiche," I smiled.

   Kimora reached for the doorknob.  "Oh yeah, as for today?  You did well.
Very well.  But you're new, so you don't get a crack at me just yet.  But
maybe when you get to L.A....?"

   I smiled.  Maybe I wouldn't get a taste today, but I knew she was
definitely intrigued.  "It's your call, Mrs.  Simmons.  Anyway, it was a
pleasure to meet you both.  Thanks again!"

   She gave me a quick wave; then they were off.

   I stood there for a moment, clutching my robe shut, staring at the door.


   Then it hit me: I have a shot at styling Kimora in L.A.?  From just this
one meeting?

   "Whoo Hoo!" I shouted as I ran and leapt onto the bed.  I rolled around
in glee for a moment, tangling myself in the still-wet sheets.  As I
inhaled Malia's intimate scent, I had to smile.  Life was definitely good.
Definitely

   ~~~

   "Congratulations, Nikii!  Sounds like everything went well!"

   Sam and I sat on the bed as she popped open a bottle of Dom Pérignon.  I
held the thin, delicate champagne flutes as she poured generously.

   "I propose a toast," she said as she took her glass.  "To the most
talented makeup artist in the biz!"

   "I'll take that," I laughed as we clinked glasses.  "And to you, the
most wonderful cousin in the world!"

   "That I am," she smiled.  We clinked again, then sipped the cool liquid
and sat in silence for a few moments.  I had showered and was wrapped
comfortably in one of the thick, fluffy hotel robes.  Sam was still in her
work clothes, but relaxed beside me on the bed.

   She turned and looked at me.  "Cuz," she said, "I'm glad to see you with
a smile on your face.  A genuine smile.  In fact, I haven't seen you this
happy since..." She looked down as she trailed off.

   I looked up.  "Since when?"

   "Nevermind."

   I looked at her curiously.  "No.  Go ahead."

   She paused.  "Since Giovanna."

   At the mention of that name, a piercing pain shot through my heart.  I
suddenly realized that hadn't thought about Giovanna in ages.  Since that
awful breakup with my African-French beauty, my life had been going quite
well.

   As I stared at Sam, anger rose in me.  Today had been a perfect day. 
The last few months had been perfect.  How dare she bring up"Nuh uh," she
warned.  "I see you thinking.  Come on.  Let's celebrate." She reached
around me, grabbed my glass, refilled it, and handed it to me.

   Suddenly fatigued, I declined.  "No thanks, Cuz.  I'm not in the mood."

   She tried to hand me the glass again.  "Nikii, please?"

   I got out of the bed and headed toward the bathroom.  "Sam?  I'm tired.
I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.  Anyway, did you book my flight
back to Miami?"

   Samantha sighed.  "First thing in the morning."

   "Thanks.  But like I said, I'm exhausted."

   "So you're ready to run again," she tossed as I stepped into the
bathroom.  "You're still not ready to face it, are you?"

   My head started to throb as I turned on the bathroom faucet.  I splashed
cold water on my face and dried off with a towel.  "Face what?"

   "Face how depressed you've been since Gia.  You'd been moping around,
and-"

   "And what?" I said as I stormed back into the living room.  I stood over
Sam.  "And what?"

   Sam jumped up.  "And I wanted to help you!  Damn, Nikii, I've tried to
help you.  I've tried to do everything I could to help you!  Hell, I even
talked to Charlene about you."

   Charlene?  My best friend and former boss, Charlene?  The Charlene who
recommended me to Beyonce?  Is that how she got all of this started months
ago?  Did Charlene really spread the fact that I'm gay to all my favorite
celebrities?  I looked right at Sam.  "You talked to her about what?"

   She just shook her head.

   "Talked to her about what?" I repeated.

   "About getting you out to meet someone new."

   "And what did she say?"

   "She said she'd help.  She said she knew just the thing to get you out
of your...funk."

   My mind swirled at the thought that Charlene had set me up from the
beginning.  "What the hell are you doing going behind my back?" I growled
as I got right in her face.  "Sam?  Answer me!  What else did Charlene say?
What else did the two of you cook up!"

   Sam quickly backed up and took a seat at on the chaise lounge. 
"Nothing. I haven't talked to her since then.  It's been months.  And I
only called her `cuz I was so worried about how depressed you'd been.  I
didn't mean any harm," she said, her voice softening.  "I'm sorry, Cuz."

   I folded my arms and just stared at her.  The thought that Charlene set
me up was too much.  "I need to think.  I need some time alone."

   "Nikii-"

   "Please?"

   She nodded and went toward the door.  "Again, I'm sorry," she said.

   "Good night, Sam" I said as I went into the bathroom and closed the
door. Struggling to keep my emotions in check, I leaned against the door
and listened until Sam had left the suite.

   The swirl of emotions inside of me finally let loose, and tears slipped
down my face at the thought of Giovanna, the former love of my life.

   ~~~

   "Ring!  Ring!"

   Groggy, I opened my eyes at the insistent ringing.  "What the hell..."

   I looked around.  I was still on the bathroom floor, wrapped in my robe
and curled up into a little ball.  "Is that ringing in my head?" I
whispered as I stretched my limbs.  The ringing was incessant as I
struggled to reorient myself to my surroundings.

   I suddenly realized that the ringing was coming from my robe.  I reached
into the pocket and pulled out my cell phone.

   "How did that get in there?" I wondered as I checked the display. 
However, when I saw the programmed name that was attached to the number, I
gasped.

   It was Krystal.

   I quickly answered.  "Hello?" I said, breathless.

   "Hey, stranger!"

   I smiled at the light, cute voice on the other end.  Krystal Pennington
was my new, but long-lost girlcrush.  We met back when I was in Las Vegas
styling Christina Milian.  We spent a wonderful night just talking, but she
was soon on a plane to Japan to style Janet Jackson.

   When we first met, I was immediately taken with the slender,
toffee-colored beauty.  I had to admit that it'd been ages since I was so
physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to a woman.

   I loved how upfront she was with her love of women.  I also loved when
she explained how free and noncommittal she could be.  She was, in fact,
quite liberal with her female love.  As we talked that night, I was
completely enthralled with this beauty.

   However our schedules just hadn't meshed yet.

   Last I heard from her was a text message that next day while I was
styling Amerie.  Since then, I'd been on a week-long job with Nicole
Scherzinger and then on an overnight job with Alicia Keys.  We'd both been
busy, so I wasn't tripping that we hadn't talked.  In fact, all my feelings
suddenly rushed back and I was ecstatic to hear from her.

   "Krystal!" I said as I straightened up and sat with my back against the
bathroom door.  "How are you?"

   "I'm fine, Nikii!" she laughed.  "It's so good to hear your voice again!
It's been ages!"

   I pictured her sweet, sugary, toffee-colored skin and her tight and
toned body.  My nipples hardened underneath my robe and I knew my
attraction to her hadn't waned at all.  "I know!  But anyway, I'm great."
And then, in my excitement, it just slipped out.  "And I'm dying to see
you."

   Suddenly, I grimaced.  We'd basically only just met and here I was,
acting as if she were already my girlfriend.  It was just that I'd
connected with her so quickly that I couldn't wait to be around her again.

   "Me too.  Well, where are you?  Back in Miami?"

   "No, I'm in New York finishing a consultation with Kimora."

   "Kimora?" she squealed.  "Kimora Lee Simmons?  You go, girl!"

   I blushed.  "Thanks.  But later for that.  When can I see you?  Even
though it hasn't been that long...it's been too long!" I smiled at my lame
joke.

   Silence.  "Well..."

   That pause wasn't encouraging as I knew what our business could be like:
Long hours on the road, away from family and friends.  However, not wanting
to appear clingy, I tried another approach.  "Nevermind.  Where are you?"

   She sighed.  "Guess?"

   "Ummm...I don't know," I laughed.  "Surprise me."

   "I'm in Spain," she said, her voice low.

   Spain?  Damn.  Keep cool, Nikii.  Stay in control.  "What's in Spain?" I
stuttered.  Shit.

   "The next leg of Janet's tour."

   "Next leg?" I frowned.  Breathe, Nikii.  "How much longer will you be
out of the country?"

   She paused.  "Well, we're in Spain now, then France and then Italy. 
Then a whole bunch more European dates after that.."

   My stomach dropped at her non-answer.  I needed her to be direct. 
"Which means?"

   "Three more months."

   As my heart skipped a beat, I realized I was still on the bathroom
floor, and the tiles had suddenly turned ice cold.  Still holding the
phone, I stood up, walked out of the bathroom and climbed onto the bed.  I
curled into a ball again, trying to get warm, as my mind raced.  "Oh
really?"

   Her voice lowered.  "Yeah, really."

   Nonchalant always worked for me in situations like this.  "Well, you
know how this business is.  Constant travel.  And at a moment's notice. 
That's the life we have, Krystal.  But it's no big deal.  We'll just see
each other whenever."

   It was now her turn to stutter.  "No big deal?"

   Oh shit.  "Krystal..."

   "No, Nikii.  Besides, I think you're breaking up.  We're in Barcelona
and the reception here is awful.  Anyway, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I
guess I should go now."

   "Krystal, wait!"

   Dial tone.

   Shit.

   I laid on the bed.  What the hell just happened?

   In a flash, I realized my cousin was right.  Ever since I caught my ex,
Giovanna, in a heated lip-lock with another woman a year ago, I was
terrified at another heartbreak.

   "Gia has you running scared, that's what happened.  You're too
chicken-shit to tell Krystal just how much you missed her."

   While I wasn't quite ready for full-on commitment with her, I suddenly
realized that wanted her to be a special part of my life.  I also realized
that I wanted her to know that.

   In total lust and barely thinking, I dialed her back.

   She answered on the first ring and my heart nearly broke at her sad
voice.  "Hello?"

   Oh shit.  What was I going to say?

   Fuck it.  I'll just speak from my heart.  "Krystal?  It's me.  Don't
hang up.  Just hear me out."

   Silence.

   "Krystal, I'm an idiot.  And one day I'll explain why.  But for right
now, I just wanna see you.  And I know we just met, and I know I've been
busy and I know you've been busy, but as soon as I heard your voice, I
remembered how much I enjoy being around you.  And I hope we can keep
getting to know each other."

   "You have a funny way of showing it," she chuckled.  "But, if I'm being
real, it's my fault too.  I wanted to call you so many times over the past
days, but I was a little skittish too.  I mean, we just met!"

   "I know!  But I want to keep going with this.  Really."

   "Me too.  But, on the real, this reception is shit," she laughed.  "I
can barely hear you."

   "No, that's just cause your phone is cheap," I teased.

   "Now I heard that, sucker.  I got something for your ass!"

   As soon as she said it, I visualized her tight, firm ass.  Then I
visualized me running my tongue over and over the taut skin.  Ok, down,
girl.  "No, but seriously," I said.  "Call me later from a landline, will
ya?"

   "Will do.  But it won't be for a day or so.  My call time with Janet is
in about an hour.  First, we go to her press conferences and then all the
meet-and-greets.  Then it's straight to the arena for the dress rehearsal
and then the concert, so I'll be busy all day and into the night."

   "No worries.  Just call me whenever.  No matter what time it is."

   "Will do." Then she paused.  "And thanks for calling back."

   I felt myself growing warm at her soft voice.  "Thanks for answering."

   "And Nikii?" she giggled.

   "Yeah?"

   She paused.  "Keep it wet for me!"

   I remembered the scent of her freshly-showered body as it lay next to me
that first night we met.  "Baby, you have no idea!"

   "Talk to you later, hon!  Bye!" Then she was gone.

   Hanging up the phone, I smiled.  Then I laughed, suddenly feeling light
and free.

   Giovanna who?

   ~~~

   The next morning, I awoke to the hazy New York sun streaming in the
room. Still on a Krystal-high, I quickly I bathed.  Then, clad in a fresh
white robe, I started on my hair.  Using a blow drier and a flat iron, I
worked on my dark, shoulder-length hair until it was bone straight.  Once
done, I applied a small bit of coconut oil to make my tresses shine.

   For my makeup, I used soft golden tones on my eyes, a light swipe of a
cute, fuschia blush and a generous application of fuschia lipgloss.  The
deep colors were a perfect compliment to my soft, brown skin.  I smiled in
the mirror, loving my reflection.  I laughed as I noticed the warm glow on
my cheeks.  Was it me, or was it still my Krystal-high?

   I rummaged through my suitcase until I found a cute, bright red tank
top, a cropped denim jacket and the matching short, flirty denim skirt.  I
quickly dressed, all the while, humming Beyonce's "Crazy In Love," one of
my favorite tunes.

   All of a sudden, just in the middle of my uh-oh dance, I froze. 
Samantha.  Oh shit.

   I'd treated her horribly when she was only thinking of what was best for
me.

   I nearly ran to the desk, sat down and wrote a quick note for her on the
hotel stationery.  I told her how much I loved her and that I was sorry for
being such a bitch.  I also promised to invite her to come stay in Miami
with me for her next vacation.

   Feeling much better, I sealed the envelope and started packing my bags.
As I finished, the hotel operator called and informed me that the car
service Sam arranged from me was due in an hour.  I quickly finished
packing, then called for a bellhop.

   When he arrived, we went down to the front desk.  Sam was nowhere to be
found as I walked up.  There was, however, a young caramel-colored woman at
the desk.

   "Ms.  Clarke?" she said, her voice light and airy.

   "Yes?"

   "Your cousin, Ms.  Reynolds, has a message for you." She picked up an
envelope and handed it to me.  "First, she said that your bill's already
been taken care of by..." she looked at her computer, "...by Ms.  Simmons."


   I smiled.  How nice.

   The clerk continued.  "Also, Ms.  Reynolds said that she's sorry, but
she had a breakfast meeting with Mr.  Trump so she couldn't see you off. 
But she printed out your airline confirmation and you should be all set. 
She also said she'd call you as soon as she could.  And that she hopes you
have a good flight."

   Damn.  Knowing Sam, she could have gotten over it already, but there was
a chance that she could still be pissed at me.  My stomach sank at not
being able to apologize to her in person for my behavior.  Dismayed, I
handed the clerk my note.  "Well, at least just give her this."

   Sulking, I turned to leave.

   Then the clerk called out to me.  "Wait!  Ms.  Clarke?"

   I turned around.  "Yes."

   "Ms.  Reynolds has this for you." She reached underneath the desk pulled
out a brown paper bag.  "She didn't want you to leave without something to
eat.  Inside, you'll find a couple of fresh croissants, a fruit cup and a
granola bar.  Oats and Honey.  She said it was your favorite."

   I smiled as I took the bag.  Sam was feeding me?  Then that meant that
she still loved me.  It meant that all was well.

   Thanking the young woman, I followed the bellhop outside to the waiting
jet-black Lincoln Town Car.  As he took my luggage off his cart, I heard a
melodious voice in my ear.

   "Hi darling," a seductive voice said from behind me.

   I spun around.

   Mischa was standing there in a snug, navy-blue chauffeur's uniform,
wearing a huge smile on her face.

   "You didn't think I'd let you get out of town before seeing me, did
you?"

   "Mischa!" I exclaimed as I hugged her.  "Thanks for coming!"

   She gently pinched my hip.  "Come on, babe.  Let me get your things."

   I smiled and stepped to the side.  Then I frowned.  "But wait.  How did
you know I needed a ride?"

   "I called the hotel this morning on a whim.  I said that I was picking
you up for your flight, but that I wanted to confirm the time.  They gave
me your checkout time."

   "Stalker," I teased.

   She winked as she loaded my bags into the trunk.  Then she helped me
into the back seat and we took off for the airport.  She reached incredible
amounts of speed, as she had before, and we arrived at the terminal in no
time.

   Once we arrived, she parked in the one of the adjacent lots and
retrieved my bags.  Grinning, we walked hand-in-hand from the parking lot
into the airport terminal.

   Though I had an hour before takeoff, I went ahead and checked my
baggage. The ticketing agent said I had plenty of time before my flight, so
to just relax and wait for the boarding call.

   Looks like you have some time to kill," Mischa whispered, a wicked smile
on her face.  "Come on."

   She took my hand and let me to one of the airport lounges.  The dimly
lit space was filled with people so we took the last two seats at the bar.
"Want a drink?" she asked.

   Before I could answer, she motioned for the bartender.  "Two Black
Russians, please." Then she grinned and turned back to me.  "You do want a
Black Russian, right?"

   I grinned back.  "Mischa-"

   She stroked my hair.  "Drink with me."

   "Mischa!  I have to go soon!" I moaned.

   The bartender quickly brought our drinks and she handed one to me.  "A
toast?  To...friendly hellos and goodbyes."

   We clinked glasses and I took a sip of the thick liquor.  Delicious.

   "Mischa?" I said, "For real, I wish we had more time together.  I really
like you.  I wish I'd gotten a chance to get to know you better."

   She smiled.  "Do you now?  Well, hang on, baby.  I have a surprise for
you." She pulled out her cell phone and dialed quickly.  "This will only
take a sec."

   "Hello," she said once the party answered.  "Connect me with Chantal
Scott."

   "Chantal," I mouthed.  "Chantal at the rental agency?"

   Mischa winked.  "We talked once I dropped you off last night.  We
decided that you needed a proper farewell from New York."

   Then she went back to the conversation.  After a couple of moments, she
said her goodbyes and turned to me.

   "We need to meet Chantal in the VIP lounge in five minutes."

   "VIP lounge?  Here in the airport?  Isn't someone in there?  It's
daytime!"

   Mischa grabbed my hand.  "It's empty and she has a key, Lyubimaya."

   Huh?  As usual, I was lost at her Russian.  "Excuse me?"

   "That means, `Sweetheart,'" she laughed.  "Come on."

   ~~~

   Once we got there, Chantal was waiting for us.  "Hey, ladies," she
smiled, her caramel brown skin glowing with excitement.  "Come on in," she
said as she ushered us inside.

   When I walked in, I was awed at the plush and lavish furnishings in the
space.  Several expensive steel-backed chairs and steel cocktail tables had
been placed around the perimeter of the room.  Two dark leather couches
were in the middle facing each other, with a steel endtable between them. A
fully stocked bar sat in the corner.

   "Come on, honey," Mischa said as we walked in.  "Your plane boards in
forty minutes."

   "Yes, baby," Chantal said.  "We don't have much time." She locked the
door behind us and led me to one of the couches.  "Lie down," she
commanded.

   As I reclined on the soft leather, Chantal sat behind at the head of the
couch and cradled my head on her lap.  "Comfy, baby?" she whispered.

   All I could do was nod.

   Mischa, meanwhile, quickly went to my legs.  She slid my short, denim
skirt up and spread my soft thighs wide open.

   As I felt her remove my panties, I quickly flashed back to when I dipped
between Kimora's silky thighs.  I hoped I'd be as sated when all was said
and done.

   However, as I lay there staring at the ceiling, I began to panic.  What
the fuck am I doing here?  Half-naked in an airport lounge.  Was I that
desperate?  What if someone came in?  What if security was called?  What if
-

   Then I felt it.

   The most incredible, luscious, firm, wet lick to my honeyed center that
I'd ever felt in my life.

   "Ohhhh," I moaned as delicious pricks of electric heat shot through my
entire body.  "Oh my God!"

   "Shhh," Chantal whispered.  "Just close your eyes and enjoy this,
sweetie."

   As soon as I obeyed, I felt another soft, wet lap at my pussy.  Then
another.  And another.

   "Oooooh," I cried.  "Oh, yes!"

   Mischa teased my clit as her long, jet-black hair splayed across my
thighs and teased my heated skin.  I groaned as her tongue flicked back and
forth over my wetness.

   "Doesn't that feel good, baby," Chantal whispered as she stroked my
hair. "Mischa's been wanting to taste you since she first saw you.  Give
her that honey!  Let her see how good you taste!"

   I was undone at the attention they were giving me.  Having two beautiful
women servicing me was almost too good to be true.  Though I would have
preferred this hot and sexy threesome in bed, as with Kimora and Malia,
this upscale airport lounge was working just as well.

   As Mischa's tongue began to stroke me even faster, her fingers got busy,
rubbing and stroking my thighs.  Then they moved up higher, rubbing gently
between my legs.  Finally they slipped inside my pussy and I jumped.

   "Ooooh," I cried.  "That feels so good!"

   Her fingers began a salacious in-and-out motion, stroking me deep as her
tongue stroked my throbbing clit.

   "You like that?" Chantal cooed.  "It gets even better, baby." She leaned
forward.  "Mischa?  Go get that ass!"

   Mischa lifted my legs up even higher and dipped underneath to kiss and
bite my ass cheeks.  Then she tongued me low, teasing my rosebud with her
firm, forceful strokes.

   Chantal reached into my top and stroked my breasts.e She used her
fingers to pinch and nip my nipples.

   "Oh God," I sighed.  With Chantal fondling my breasts and Mischa between
my legs, I was in heaven.

   Mischa must have known time was running out.  She delved even further
into my sweetness and sucked even harder on my clit.  But for an erotic
surprise, she began to hum gently.  The wickedly carnal vibrations nearly
made me scream out loud.

   "Shhh, honey," Chantal whispered.  "Try and keep at least kinda quiet!"
she teased.

   Suddenly my entire body tensed and I knew the only outcome.  "I'm
cumming!  I'm cumming!  Now, baby!  Now!"

   As my climax hit, the electric sparks that coursed through my entire
body now hit like a bolt of lightening.  The fire that burned inside of me
was now a blazing inferno and it threatened to consume me.  Mischa's tongue
and lips drove me into an erotic web of passion as my orgasm lasted for
several seemingly endless moments.

   Finally, I fluttered down from the heavens, blissful and satisfied.  I
hadn't had a threesome before Kimora and Malia, and here I was in my second
one in less than twenty-four hours.  I tingled from the lingering
sensations.

   "Thanks, ladies," I said.  Here I was, spread open wide, on a couch in
an airport lounge, but I was more sated than I'd been in a long while. 
"You made my day!  My year, even."

   "Our pleasure, honey," Chantal said.

   "Yes," Mischa added as she kissed my pussy one more time.  "It's our job
to serve."

   ~~~

   After a three-hour flight, I emerged from the plane, a bit upset from my
fight with Sam and still tired from my interview with Kimora and my prior
job with Alicia Keys, but invigorated from my romp with Mischa and Chantal.


   Seeing the bright Miami sun peeking through the windows in the airport,
I was glad to get home so I could relax before my next few jobs.

   As I stood in the baggage claim area, my cell phone rang.  Checking the
display, I saw that it wasn't Samantha, but because it could be business, I
begrudgingly answered.

   "Hello.  This is Nikii."

   A low, seductive, feminine British accent came on the line, instantly
capturing my attention.  "Hi.  Nikii Clarke?"

   "Yes, this is she."

   "Hi, Nikii.  This is Vivienne Rothschild.  I'm with Rothschild Beauty
Consulting.  I got your number from Mrs.  Simmons."

   I detected a distinct cockney accent and my entire body began to tingle.
Forgetting my present troubles, I smiled.  I loved English beauties and
this one sounded lovely.  "Yes.  Hi Ms.  Ross.  She told me you'd be in
touch."

   She chuckled, and her low voice made my nipples harden.  I reveled in
the delicious sensations coursing through me as she spoke.  "First, call me
Viv.  Vivienne is much too formal.  Second, it's my pleasure to serve you."


   She paused before continuing.  "Kimora's told me a lot about you.  She
said that you were a natural.  She said that you were very talented,
but...well...her exact words were that you were a rookie.  But she said
that you have a lot of potential and that you just needed a bit
of...professional technique."

   I paused.  We were talking about makeup artistry, right?

   "Anyway," Viv continued, "I'd love to meet with you and show you all
that I have to offer.  See, I've dealt with newbies before, and I've always
found that they've benefited from my expert instruction.  I take such a
great interest in my subjects that they're all the better from my tutelage.
Anyway, I'd love to take you under my wing and teach you everything I know.
And when I get finished with you, you'll be experienced at making women the
best that they can be." She paused for a beat.  "So.  Are you interested?"

   Viv and her double entendres.  "Well, I'm in Miami now," I said.  "I
live here.  Where are you?  Are you in New York?"

   She chuckled again, and this time, that sexy British voice went straight
between my legs.  "Well, Nikii, it just so happens I'm in Miami as well. 
Lucky me."

   We spoke for a few more moments and we agreed to meet at the Aqua Hotel
the next morning.

   "Well, thank you, Nikii.  It's been a pleasure chatting with you.  And I
think you'll find that I'm the best you'll ever meet.  And that I can teach
you so much."

   I was growing so moist that I knew I had to change my tiny, pink undies,
but I didn't care.  "I appreciate that Viv.  I look forward to our time
together."

   She laughed again.  "Now, you're getting it!  Anyway, see you in the
morning, love!"

   ~~~

   Bright and early the next morning, I sat at a roomy table in the
restaurant at the Aqua Hotel.  The beautiful property, located right in
South Beach, was warm and inviting.

   As I sat there admiring the sunlight streaming though the windows and
sipping on a cool glass of apple juice, an amazing sight strode right
toward me.

   A gorgeous, honey-brown woman, dressed in a soft pink, off-the-shoulder,
knit minidress floated through the room.  She had a cute matching pink
purse and her matching high heels gave her a graceful gait.  Her bouncy
hair was sandy-brown, and was cut into a cute, shoulder-length bob.  Also
carrying a large case, she came directly to my table.

   "Nikii?" she asked as she extended her hand to me.  "I'm Vivienne Ross.
But, please, call me Viv."

   She had a large case with her, and she set it on the floor next to her
as she sat down.  I then noticed that her minidress, though a bit loose,
nicely clung to her curvy figure.  Her ample breasts, capped with stiff
nipples that threatened to peek though the knit fabric, definitely caught
my attention.

   Down, girl, I thought as we exchanged pleasantries.  I rid myself of my
naughty thoughts, then got right down to business.

   First, she took out her iPhone and typed quickly.  Then she showed me
the display, which she'd directed to her company's website.  She showed me
the airbrush models on the screen as we discussed each one.

   Then we spoke at length about the airbrush systems she was offering. 
Once we narrowed it down to two choices, she picked up the large case from
the floor and gingerly set it on the table.  She opened the case, took out
two compressors and began a quick demonstration.

   Soon, she had me sold on one of them and quoted me a tentative price. 
With my agreement, she filled out the initial paperwork and handed it to
me. She told me to look it over, select some additional features if I
needed them, then return it to her.  In her infinite professionalism, if I
returned my forms quickly, she promised to have my machine in just a matter
of days.

   Once I had my machine, she agreed to give me five training sessions,
consisting of an hour each.  However, she let it slip that normally new
customers only received three training sessions.

   I frowned.  "You think I need more training than usual?"

   "Actually, I hope you need more training than usual," she winked.

   I blushed.

   As I placed the papers in my portfolio, we continued talking about the
beauty industry.  Though she was a seasoned professional, I was able to
keep up with her use of various beauty terms.  She noticed as well.

   "You're very knowledgeable about makeup techniques, Nikii.  Did you
train with someone?"

   I gave her the quick version of my resume, telling her of all the
celebrities I'd worked on so far.  I also told her of my recent teaching
session with Senora Torres.

   "I'm impressed," she said as she sat back in her chair and stared at me.
"You're so knowledgeable that you make my job that much easier."

   I smiled.  I also tried to not stare at her ample bosom.

   "Oh, by the way," Viv smiled, her honey-brown skin glowing.  "I can see
that you're going to be a great pupil, so I have a surprise for you."

   She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small, white envelope.  "I
was going to wait until after our training sessions, but I've checked up on
you with a few sources.  You do great work, so let me give this to you in
advance."

   I took the envelope from her hands and looked at it.  It was an
unmarked, thin envelope.  Quite nondescript.

   "Go ahead.  Open it," she urged.

   I did so, and took out a delicate piece of white cardstock.  As I read
it, my eyes widened.  When I finished, I looked at her incredulously.

   "Are you serious?" I asked.  All my composure suddenly drained away, as
my heart raced.

   "Yes.  I'm very serious," she laughed.  "It's an invitation for the
hottest event in Los Angeles.  And it's in two weeks."

   Viv adjusted herself in her seat and motioned for the waiter.  When he
came over, she ordered a bottle of champagne for us.  When he left, she
rested her elbows on the table and leaned in close to me.

   "Nikii, as you just read, I want you to come to Los Angeles to work on
the tribute fête for Prince Rogers Nelson."

   My heart stopped as she actually said the words I'd just read on the
invitation.  It was real.  I'd actually be in the same space as Prince! 
THE Prince!

   She read my look and laughed.  "I was excited too.  Seems as though
Prince's record label wants to throw a huge bash for him as he turns 50
this year.  But rather than celebrate it as his birthday, they decided to
just honor his musical achievements.  And all of his former artists will be
there.  And Kimora and I will be there.  And I want you to be there too."

   I couldn't speak.

   She smiled.  "Now, even though it's work, I think it'd be an excellent
opportunity for you."

   Finally I regained my voice.  "Viv, I really don't know what to say,
other than thank you!  Thank you so much!  Prince is one of my all-time
favorites.  Well, he IS my all time favorite.  I'm so honored!  Thank you!"

   She smiled again.  "Well, you haven't heard the best part.  As I was
checking up on you, I made a few more phone calls.  It seems as though some
other celebs have heard of your talents too.  So I already have some
clients booked for you for that night." She reached into her handbag,
pulled out a smaller envelope and handed it to me.  "Here.  Read this."

   By now, I was devoid of any composure or decorum.  I tore the envelope
open, pulled out three small cards and quickly scanned them.  This time, my
heart stopped for real and a huge smile came across my face.

   Viv smiled warmly.  "I can tell by your reaction that you're pleased! 
Congratulations on having been selected to style Apollonia Kotero, Vanity
and Sheila E."

   I nearly leapt out of my chair.  Then I nearly passed out.  Thankfully,
I got it together and remembered my manners.

   "Oh my goodness!  Viv!" I quickly reached for the glass of water in
front of me and took a long drink.  Then I tried to calm down.  "Viv, thank
you!  Thank you so much, but you're trying to give me a heart attack! 
Those are my favorite artists!  How..how..."

   She grinned.  "Like I said, your name has traveled around the right
circles.  Each of those women requested you personally.  I don't know what
you do, or what you did, but you must do it well," she winked.

   I barely heard her as I'd already floated to heaven.  I had the chance
to style three of the hottest, sexiest and most beautiful 80's icons on the
planet?  And they've each heard of little old me?  I was blissfully
excited.

   Then Viv reached out and placed her hand gently over mine.  "But first,
dearheart, we have a lot to do.  I don't have much time, but I have to
teach you everything I know first!  By the time I'm finished with you,
you'll be the best ever!"

   I looked deeply into her eyes, admiring the mirth that danced within. 
Then she winked.

   A broad smile again spread across my face.

   All of a sudden, I heard my cell phone chime.  "Excuse me for a sec," I
said as I quickly pulled it out of my purse.

   I checked the display.  A text message?  I read quickly:

   "Hey baby!  It's Krystal.  Janet's plans just changed!  We're on our way
to Miami!  Can I come to see you?  Call me!  XOXO!!!"

   Krystal?  My Krystal?  Wasn't she just in Spain?

   A wide smile on my face, I looked up to see Vivienne still smiling at
me.

   I have access to two beautiful, sexy women?  In the same town?  On the
same day?

   Life was definitely good.

   Definitely.



   (C) 2008 Stephanie Rose Entertainment.  All rights reserved.

   www.StephanieRoseHeat.com
   info@StephanieRoseHeat.com