I’d met Aubrey in Miami when I did a photo shoot with Adrienne. The Ford Models execs had challenged me to pick up a woman in a nightclub before they could. I’d chosen Aubrey and assumed my pickup skills sufficed to get the job done. Turned out she and Adrienne were friends from the modeling world. Aubrey had retired from modeling and was now working for Ford here in Europe.
Something I would always remember about her was that she gave the best head I’d ever had. If I were ten years older, I would have seriously considered marrying her.
“Where are you?” Aubrey asked.
“I’m in Hertfordshire, staying at the Tewin Bury Farm Hotel. Can you make it here soon? I have a dinner party to go to, and I would love for you to join me.”
“As it happens, I’m just finishing up with a photo shoot not that far from you. Send me the address, and I’ll meet you there,” she said.
I gave Aubrey the information and hung up. I sent Saul a text to tell him I’d be bringing a date to dinner. He replied with a rude comment about actors, and I think he called me a slut. I couldn’t wait to see his face when I showed up with someone in their late 20s.
◊◊◊
I’d just gotten out of the shower when there was a knock at my door. When I answered, I was wearing only a towel. I was disappointed to find my dad there. He looked good in what must have been a new suit. At least, I’d never seen it before. I’d brought my Armani suit for tonight. I’d picked it for two reasons; the first was I loved it and never got to wear it. The second was Dakora, while very sharp looking, wasn’t Armani, and they weren’t paying me to wear them tonight.
“You look good,” I said.
“You look a little underdressed.”
“Give me a few more minutes,” I said and returned to the bathroom to shave and brush my teeth.
There was a knock on the door. I grinned when Dad called out that he would get it.
“Hello, Gorgeous … Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong room,” Aubrey said.
I stuck my head out of the bathroom.
“Aubrey, my dad. Dad, my date tonight, Aubrey.”
“Well, I … uh … come in,” Dad said.
“Not that you’re not gorgeous,” Aubrey stammered.
I laughed.
“Bloody hell, David. You might warn a girl she’s meeting the parents.”
“You’re just lucky my mom’s not here,” I called from the bathroom.
“He’s right,” Dad said. “Have a seat. I need to know your intentions towards my son.”
“Completely impure, I’m afraid,” Aubrey shot back.
Dad just laughed. Aubrey was no shrinking violet, and it sounded like they were getting along well. I slipped in, grabbed my boxers, and put them on under my towel, a nifty trick I’d learned in LA, surfing. I got dressed and brought out three ties.
“Which one?” I asked.
“The red one,” Aubrey said without hesitation.
I put it on and then my jacket. I smiled when I saw Aubrey was wearing a little black dress. She looked stunning. She stood and gave me a chaste kiss.
“How did you know I was in town?” I asked.
“One of the rags said you were here to audition for the new
“Frank,” Dad said.
Frank Ingram was my publicist. I would bet Saul called him and had him leak it. I wasn’t sure the
“Let’s hope not. Saul also signed the NDA. You read it—I’m sure we would get both sued and kicked off the movie,” I said.
“Joy Holmes was the one they quoted,” Aubrey said.
I was relieved.
◊◊◊
We met Saul and Kelly downstairs. I was shocked when Saul didn’t perv out over Aubrey. Kelly’s presence turned him into a human and not a caricature of a Hollywood agent.
There was a limo waiting for us. I’d assumed we would go to a restaurant for dinner, but I was wrong. We drove through the country until we came to something right out of
We drove up a quiet country lane. I was impressed with the wrought-iron gates and magnificent brick pillars, which welcomed you to a lengthy, tree-lined carriageway that led you to the front of the house. The roadway passed an ornamental lake and boathouse before it curved into a circular drive in front of the entrance.
The driver told us that Ayot Place was built on the site of an earlier monastery, but the origins of the present house probably dated to the 15th century. He said that much of what we saw was from the 17th century when a large wing was added. He pointed out a gardener’s cottage and impressive courtyard buildings that dated from about 1890. They were arranged on three sides around a graveled yard with a charming small dovecote and clock tower in the middle. Part of the western side of the courtyard had been converted into a large home gym.
When we came to a stop, the driver insisted that we wait until he could let us out. The front door opened, and a butler waited there for us.
“Good evening. Welcome to Ayot Place. Please follow me,” he said.
