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Authors: J.P. Bowie

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BOOK: A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA
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“And this link with Phillip…is it still there?

“I believe so.” Peter smiled at her. “But, it’s not like he’s hanging around over our heads all the time,” he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little.

“He just shows up when we’re in trouble.”

“Like a guardian angel,” Olivia murmured.

“Something like that,” Peter told her, feeling a tad uncomfortable and hoping she’d change the subject. To his relief, because time was running short, Olivia turned to the topic of Peter’s artwork, notably his portraiture. She had several photographs of Peter’s work that had been on exhibition throughout the country.

“This is an amazing talent Peter,” she gushed, to more applause from the audience. “Now, I want to ask you if you will do me the great favor of painting my portrait?”

“I would be honored,” Peter answered sincerely, never for a moment realizing he would come to regret this decision.

The rest of the interview went by quickly. Both men were impressed with Olivia’s skillful questioning and the fact that she seemed to hang on every word they had to say. At the end, the audience rose it its feet and applauded, while Olivia stood, holding both Peter and Jeff ’s hands.

“Great show guys,” she told them later. “The follow up, after you’ve painted me, should be just as good.” She greeted Eve with warmth, and ordered Brenda to “crack a bottle of bubbly” to celebrate. Amid a welter of bonhomie and con-gratulations, they were escorted back to the limo and driven home to Laguna.

“So, what did you think?” Peter asked Eve as they settled into the leather luxury of the limousine’s thickly padded seats.

J.P. Bowie

12

“You were both wonderful up there,” she replied. “Some of the ladies near me were in tears when you talked about hearing Phillip’s voice at his grave-side. I think this will be one of her best shows ever.”

“Not that you’re at all biased,” Jeff chuckled.

“Of course I am,” Eve said, with a laugh. “But, Olivia seemed very pleased with it too.”

“That she did,” Jeff agreed. He looked at Peter. “Were you surprised when she asked you to paint her portrait?”

“Kind of. I thought she’d be way too busy for all that.”

“The producers were probably thinking it was a way to keep the audience’s interest,” Jeff suggested. “Future ratings, that kind of thing.”

Peter nodded. “Right. Still, it was good of her to want to be bothered, I think.”

It was the last time Peter would ever link the word ‘good’ with Olivia Winters. A few days after the taping, he spent an entire day fielding phone calls from her production office. Apparently, Olivia had decided the next show would be taped in Laguna, from Peter and Jeff ’s home. There, she felt, the viewers would get the atmosphere of where Peter lived and the studio in which he had created the ‘masterpieces’ that had been shown nationally. Also, Peter and Jeff would be filmed giving Olivia a guided tour of Laguna Beach. Her production crew had also contacted Laguna’s tourist office, and they were very quick to call Peter to encourage him in this endeavor—“Such good publicity for the town’s tourist industry, don’t you agree?”

Then there were the sessions to arrange for Olivia’s portrait sitting. No, she could not possibly come to his studio, he was told—her schedule just would not allow it. He must come to her home on the days specified. Much against his better judgment, Peter agreed, inconvenient for him as it was.

Peter’s fame, as an artist, had spread even before his association with Olivia.

When he had recovered from his coma, the attending publicity had thrown him, with some reluctance, into the public eye. Adding to the pressure was the fact that he had recently opened his own gallery in Laguna, and had set aside a section of it for a class to encourage ‘promising young local artists’—a venture that had fast become extremely time consuming—though greatly rewarding.

He had been aided in this, by the arrival of Nick and Eric. Nick Fallon, the detective they had met in New York, and who had helped them clear Andrew’s name, had accepted Jeff ’s offer to become his business partner. Eric, unable to find a job right away had jumped at the chance to manage Peter’s gallery. Peter
J.P. Bowie

13

had been impressed by Eric’s quick learning curve, and felt very comfortable about leaving him in sole charge during the time he’d become involved with Olivia’s show.

A major concern for Peter, working outside his studio, had been the lighting, but on seeing the huge windows that lined one wall of Olivia’s spacious living room, he had deemed it adequate. He had quite enjoyed their first session.

Olivia had seemed pleased to see him, apologizing for her busy schedule and saying she hoped he was not too inconvenienced by the arrangement. Molli-fied, Peter had worked well as the cameramen and technicians Olivia had brought in to record the first sitting, hovered around and over his shoulder.

Peter had explained to her that he really only needed the one sitting, as his photographic memory would take care of the rest, but Olivia had insisted on more, ‘for the sake of continuity’.

“We have to show the portrait being created from the first few strokes to the finished product,” she’d told him. “That’s all part of the presentation.” Peter could sense in her tone that the lady was very used to getting her own way—in all things. Something he would become more and more aware of, as time went by.

Orange County Times

Report by Mark Forrest

Laguna Beach will be agog this Tuesday when famed day talk show host
Olivia
Winters
brings her production crew to town to film a segment for her new show featuring local artist
Peter Brandon.
Miss Winters will be seen out and about in Laguna before filming at the home Peter Brandon shares with Jeff Stevens, a private investigator

On the day of the filming in Laguna, Olivia arrived with her entourage and took the town by storm. The town’s dignitaries came out in force to greet her and everywhere they went, crowds gathered to gape at the famous daytime TV

star. Over and over, Peter and Jeff had to suffer endless retakes of a simple stroll along the cliff tops where Olivia had to be seen, gazing down with rapture at
J.P. Bowie

14

the famous coastline, the subject of so many artists’ work. It was there that they got a first glimpse of Olivia’s almost as famous temper.

After some of the more eager onlookers had spoiled yet another take, she gave vent with a string of expletives that would raise the hair on the back of a sailor’s neck. Peter had stared at her aghast, while Jeff smiled and winked at him.

“Hey, that should spice the show up a bit, don’t you think?”

Olivia had glared at him, then with a quick shifting of gears, she’d changed the glare to a winning smile. “Oh you,” she simpered. “The boys will cut that…”

“Too bad,” Jeff had said dryly, causing Olivia to frown and bite her lip. She had spent the rest of the day being more careful around him, causing Peter to remark afterward, when they were alone, that he thought Olivia had become a little wary of him.

“She probably thinks I have some influence over you, which of course, I don’t,”

“Yes, you do.”

“I do?”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“You know you like me cute.”

“True.”

“So, if I told you I thought Olivia was a first-class bitch, you wouldn’t argue with me?”

“She is, isn’t she? I’m beginning to wish this was all over.”

“It will be soon babe,” Jeff had assured him, massaging the back of his neck.

“You’re all tense. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, fine—but I’ll give you all night to stop what you’re doing.”

It was dark when Peter pulled into the driveway of his house, annoyed that Jeff ’s car was already there. “Damn,” he muttered. He had wanted to get there first, so he could have had time to prepare the surprise dinner he was giving Jeff for his birthday. He’d wanted to have the table set, candles lit—and himself, standing there, showered and shiny, ready to wrap himself in his lover’s arms.

Oh well, he thought sourly, slamming the car door. The best laid plans…

“Hi,” he called as he entered the kitchen. “I’m home.”

J.P. Bowie

15

“Hi, home. Does that make me Watson?”

“Ouch,” Peter laughed. “Your jokes get cornier all the time.” He hugged his man tightly. “Sorry I’m late. I wanted to have everything ready. Happy Birthday…” Jeff silenced him with a kiss.

When they came up for air, Peter said, “I thought we’d have dinner at home, just the two of us…”

“Sounds great,” Jeff murmured, not letting him go.

“I need to shower first though. I’m all sticky from the car. Then we’ll have some champagne.” He started to pull away, but Jeff held him fast. “Unhand me villain,” Peter said weakly. “I really need to shower…”

“Okay,” Jeff said, with a quick grin. “I’ll bring the champagne up to the bedroom. See you there.”

“I’ll be quick.” Peter flew up the stairs throwing off his clothes and dropping them in a heap on the bathroom floor. Stepping into the shower, he soaped himself vigorously, then stood letting the hot water beat down on him for a minute or two. He smiled as he heard the shower door open behind him and felt strong arms enfold him.

“I couldn’t wait for my birthday gift,” Jeff whispered huskily in his ear.

“It’s right here,” Peter said, leaning back against Jeff ’s powerful body.

“Happy Birthday again.”

c h a p t e r 2

s

“Let’s see now…” Peter perused the list of guests he had invited to Jeff ’s party.

“Mom and Fred, Rod and ‘A’, Gloria and Johnny, Emily and Jerry, Justin and Anthony, Rob and Maggie, Dr. Ed and Kay, Nick and Eric—and you and David.”

He looked at his friend Andrew Connor, who had come over early to help him set up. Andrew and his partner, David, had just returned from a vacation in Hawaii and Andrew, wearing a white tank top and shorts, was sporting a healthy tan.

“Quite a crowd,” he said. “You’ll need at least five tables.”

“I rented six just in case. They’re outside; let’s go arrange them and I can decide who sits with who.”

“Why don’t you just let everyone choose who they want to sit with?”

Andrew suggested. “We all know each other pretty well—but I want to sit with Rod and ‘A’. They’re always terrific company.”

“And I’m not?” Peter sniffed.

“You’re OK.” Andrew grinned at him. “But they know all the scandal.”

“Huh, I’ve heard enough scandal recently,” Peter groused. “Olivia’s full of it.

Always bad mouthing someone or other. What a bitch she is. Jeff can’t stand her.”

“Who would have guessed? She comes over as such a great personality on the box.”

“Oh, she’s that all right—a great public personality—but privately, she is one mean and bitter woman.”

“All that money and success,” Andrew sighed. “You’d think that would make anyone happy.”

- 16 -

J.P. Bowie

17

Peter glanced at his friend as he unfolded the legs of one of the tables. “I think you have to be complete before you can be happy. All the money in the world can’t fill the void she obviously has in her life.”

“She’s not married?”

“Divorced. Pretty messy from what she’s told me.”

“She talks to you about this?”

“Are you kidding? She never shuts up about how he slapped her around, humiliated her in public,
stole
from her…”

“Wow. When did all this happen?”

“When she lived in Nebraska. She was a weather woman there then she got her own talk show. He was a newscaster at the same station. According to Olivia, he was pissed when it happened. Never could forgive her for beating him at his game. He wanted the show, but the producers wanted a woman—someone glamorous, and of course, Olivia fitted the bill.”

“She is gorgeous. Who was she married to?”

“Charles somebody…she always refers to him as ‘fuckin’ Charlie’, so if she ever mentioned his last name, I didn’t catch it.”

“Winters, maybe?”

“Oh yeah,” Peter laughed. “I never thought of that.”

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t think she knows. She dumped him when she moved to LA.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Andrew said. “Here, where d’you want this table?”

“We’ll just group them casually, close together. You know everyone’s going to want to talk. I’ve got some fun umbrellas—very loud and festive.” They began pulling the tables together and placing folding chairs at each one. “Anyway, I’ll be very glad when this next show is over with and I don’t have to keep running up to LA to finish her portrait. It’s become a real chore.”

“And here I thought show biz was all fun and games,” Andrew chuckled.

“Not the kind of fun and games we enjoy,” Peter said, frowning. “One thing for sure though; it has made me appreciate everything I have here all the more.

I wouldn’t trade my life for hers for an instant.”

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend, or someone in her life to keep her happy?”

“Not that I know of. Sometimes she alludes to some great love she had in the past, but she never goes into any details about him.”

“Maybe it still hurts.”

“Maybe…but I just don’t see Olivia as the type to pine after anyone for too long. She’s got that hard edge, you know?”

“Morning, boys!” Peter’s mother called from her patio.

J.P. Bowie

18

“Hi, Eve…” Andrew ran over and gave her a big hug.

“Hawaii obviously agreed with you,” she said, admiring his tan. “You look very handsome, dear.”

“Thanks.” He took her hand. “Come and supervise this set up. Who d’you want to sit with? Don’t say Rod and ‘A’ ’cause I’ve already reserved that table for David and me.”

“Anyone. I have no preference.”

“Well!” Peter huffed. “How about sitting with your son and
Jeff
, the guest of honor?”

“That would be nice, dear.”

“Nice…
nice
? First Andrew snubs my company, now you just think it would be nice. I’m beginning to feel like chopped liver.”

“My word,” Eve said as she watched Peter erect one of the table umbrellas.

BOOK: A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA
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