Chapter 3

Los Angeles

The flight descended into the desert night and I saw palm trees and long streets heading east to west. On-time and just before midnight we landed. I stepped out of the terminal and was met with the sweet ocean air of the Pacific. I realized I hadn't booked a hotel and I remember Steven and his promise of a bed and how in an unfamiliar way it would feel like a triumph to be in a Prada-model's bed. But the hotel would be just fine. Steven got in a cab too and told the driver to just take me to a hotel downtown. The driver had a number of suggestions as we pulled into Main street having just passed by Union Station. I saw a sign saying HOTEL by a tall building, probably around 100 years old. The driver told me it was a budget hotel. I was really tired and when I asked him if it was clean and he said that it was I told him to stop the car. Fortunately there was vacant rooms available. I almost fell asleep at reception, fortunately the wait wasn't long. Small rooms, but quiet and modern. A flat-screen TV was attached to the wall across the bed. I turned it on.

Late night talk show host James Commenwas on, so it was late. He was in full swing, a British accent and everything. Against the usual backdropof the Hollywood hills at sunset this red-haired, youngish somewhat ample Brit had a smirk on his face as he ran through his 'James Commentop 10 non conventional ways of using something.'

“Ten non conventional ways of using a Hersey bar:

1. Measurer of temperature, if it melts before you reach the car – it is too hot out.

2. Measurerof length – I am 12 Hersey bars tall 3. House of Hersey cards – earthquake detector

3. Put 100 of them in a briefcase and walk around town, to feel unique.

4. Sock straightener

5. Melted – as face cleansing mask

6. Making a fake phone call..”

Hmm! This is not that funny I told myself I was just getting hungry for stuff I shouldn't eat.

I dialed on the remote to see what else was on. PBS, “Seventeenth-century London, When the River Thames smelled over”, MTV Jersey Shore; “Snookie's hen party volume three”, Discovery Channel, “The men who only atenuts and peaches for a year.”

Enough TV! Just stuff I am not remotely interested in. About to fall asleep, I pressed the off button. The room was totally dark. I closed my eyes and for a moment thought back at the day and the people I met. This was something I started doing each night, thinking and trying and remembering every face I had seen. I didn't actually see Natasha when she left for her 6am yoga class, I recall some of the people on the Long Island Railroad, then the subway. The receptionist in the lobby, Peter, Russell, Sam and Simon. The Prada guy, the people on the subway, the lovely Melissa at Delta. Steven, the cab driver, the hotel check-in lady at the Main Street Inn.

I had a really funky, intense dream that night. In my dream, I woke up with everything shaking. The room was filled with a strong red light. I told myself I was in LA and the earthquake! I had to get out! I am in an old building on the 10th floor. I reached for the door to get out, the building was shaking violently but there was Natasha in a big red dress looking like Elvira princess of darkness standing with hands on the door-frames. She was totally blocking my exit. It was hard to keep my balance due to the shaking, but she was standing perfectly tall. On the floor were 10 Prada bags, which she pointed to.

“Not so fast, I find you in a cheap hotel is bad enough, but you only got me the 10 Prada bags, and they are not even this year's edition! George, what were you thinking? Where is my Lamborghini to put all the shoes and jewelry you were supposed to get me? I am fed up with our regular car! I'm fed up with finding you in cheap places. You're cheap! You need to buy me more. More! As she pushed me onto the bed, there was Steven! He got out of bed. The building was still shaking. This is one of those times when you kind of know you're in a dream, but you're still living it as if it is real. Steven luckily was wearing underwear, tight white and black Prada briefs (do they even make those?) Ripped body, looking perfect in every way. He turned to a bemused Natasha and said: “It's OK I am wearing Prada in bed, I slept with your boyfriend, so he must I have good taste.” Natasha gave a nod that showed satisfaction. She said “OK then, that's approved” and walked out.

I woke up. There was just a little street-light coming in. No Prada bags, no Natasha or Steven and no earthquakes. I slept until I was awakened by the sun. I took the elevator downstairs for breakfast. I overheard a couple sitting near me talking about them feeling an earthquake this morning. I checked the news on my phone. Sure enough, a smaller type of quake measuring 2.9, centered around the intersection of Lake Shore Avenue and Ewing Street this morning.

After breakfast, I decided to get a cab to the Ivar Towers in Hollywood. Then, as I walked a few blocks to find a stationary cab, I noticed a metro sign: “LA metro”. I wondered where it would take me. I was intrigued. I went down an escalator on 7th Street, stopped by a system map where I saw that there are in-fact 3 stops in Hollywood. The Ivar Towers complex is planned near the Hollywood & Vine station. 12 minutes on the train, I walked up the stairs right onto Hollywood Boulevard. Such a nice day here. The air felt slightly crisp, very bright sunshine against a very blue sky. I walked up the star-studded sidewalk and there was a big billboard near the Capitol Records building showing an artist's impression of the two high-rise buildings. Nearby is another billboard for Prada underwear, the Prada guy, Steven, spread out wearing only white briefs against a tropical beach background. The sales office was located on the 10th floor of the Capitol Records building, which with its iconic round shape is hard to miss. I got in checking my watch which say 10.44 just enough time to fill out some forms.

The bidding was in an auditorium. Food was provided; sandwiches, tea coffee and champagne. It was fairly busy with at least 80 people in total. I got 10 floors but not under 30 in fact at 30 million exactly per floor.

I immediately called Russell, who was pleased I got it and asked me to wait for the paperwork and FedEx it straight to a legal firm, also in New York.

This reminded me of something which I always found this a bit odd. Why the obsession with always using couriers rather than trusting their employees to deliver the paperwork, especially since I was due back in New York the day after tomorrow? I tried to argue this time, but he wouldn't have it. FedEx did it immediately. The shipment was done. I went over to Starbucks near the metro station and a few cappuccinos and a carrot cake Moments later I got a call from Russell's secretary that they had completed the bank transfer of $300 million, which we had to wait for from the pension fund company, and the paperwork was ready for me to sign for and pick up. Russell told me to get a cab to the nearest FedEx agent, which is the Money-center at Cahuenga and Hollywood boulevards behind the CVS. I saw it was just a couple two blocks from Capital Records, so I walked it. Across the road toward Cahuenga Boulevard, I noticed a giant beautiful Jacaranda tree in full purple bloom. I was in the best mood I had been in for weeks, maybe months.

This left me with the rest of the day off. I walked back to the Metro. The day looked so beautiful. I wanted to do something. I looked up at the Hollywood sign and the beautiful hills with lavish houses tucked in. On closer inspection, they were not little houses but mansions.

I got my phone out and called Steven, the guy from the plane. He suggested showing me around town. He would pick me up in half an hour after he finished a car commercial down at Paramount Pictures, not far from here.

I hung around for some pizza at a nearby pizza place.

Steven picked me up in his blue American made 4x4. He was happy as he told me he had made peace with his boyfriend, who was flying back tomorrow after having left the drama to see friends in Palm Springs. Made peace as in broken up amicably, Steven said. It wasn't just the cheating, he said, a lot of people have committed indiscretions, including himself. This was more of a final hit.

I got a call from head-office asking about the paperwork. I replied that I would courier it the moment I got it in my hand.

I liked the space in his truck, it was very spacious. He told me it was over 20 years old, but he had always looked after it well. He got the idea for it after a 6-month relationship back in the early 2000s when he was just 18. “Your first love?” I asked him. “Yeah, he was.” I saw how Steven got a sad, worried face as he turned the steering wheel left, and we were heading into small, very bending roads and upward. I said “I apologize if I was probing.”Steven told me it was all right. First love is the hardest. He opened the glove compartment and told me to take his wallet and look in the folder behind the credit cards. There was a photo of a tall, beautiful dark black guy in tight blue jeans and a tight blue t-shirt with capital letters, “US MARINES,” with his chest muscles protruding through. Darius. “When he walks down the street,” Steven said and I saw tears forming in his eyes, “girls and guys alike stop and turn, he is the most beautiful guy you could see in a day. “ Although teary eyes, Steven didn't mind talking about him as we pulled into a drivewayand stopped.

He met him, the guy, Darius, the love of his life in West Hollywood. Darius, about twice Steven's age, though looking about the same age as him. Darius baby-faced looks swept Steven away as they got talking by an ATM on a night out. Darius had just changed jobs as a mailman and moved to the Valley. They would go for long outdoor trips, to the mountains, to the desert. “Such good times I can't forget.” Said Steven as more tears formed in his eyes. He told me he never forgot how Darius said he had seen him from across the bar and noticed his blond hair and crystal blue eyes.

I had to ask him what happened. Steven told me that being young and foolish he had slept with another model after a photo shoot in Las Vegas. He felt guilty about it, confessed to Darius, who forgave him but it never really got the same. It made matters worse with Steven repaying the same again, in-fact 5 more times.

“Strange when you love someone so much, the sex and attraction are so good and I still cheated.”

They remained friends and would sometimes hang out. Darius seemed to suffer from depression, and one day he stopped answering his phone or front door, though his name was still on the reception intercom. I asked: “So you don't know if he still lives there?”

“I don't know if he has moved or maybe he is still there.”I asked him if it was far from here. Steven told me maybe we could drive by later, but for now, he was taking me to the Hollywood sign. The last mile of roads leading up to the sign was not open for traffic, so we walked. It was a fair bit cooler up here. There were some other people walking up to the sign too, and we smiled at them, and they smiled back and said hello. Once upon the mountain, we could see the other side across the Valley and beyond. I saw the NBC Universal complex and not far from it the Warner Bros studios, and down to a set of straight grid layout streets. Steven pointed to that part and told me it is North Hollywood. I took some photos for my Instagram. One with me and Steven. I thought it would get Natasha's attention. Not yet. I took another last photo and sent it by WhatsApp to her. We walked back down the mountain. I kept checking my phone if the tick boxes, the receivenotifications on WhatsApp, had changed to blue “read” but they were still gray. The signal kept going in and out. Steven noticed I was nervous.

I told him I just wanted to see if my girlfriend had seen my photo.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. I told him about Natasha. How we met, how she is very demanding, how she always wants stuff and that I sometimes wonder if she really loves me. Talking is good. I found the walk down very therapeutic. I also had to admit that I hadn't talked to anyone about my thoughts about Natasha and me. Steven told me she sounds like a spoiled brat. I showed him a photo from my phone of Natasha and me at the party where we met. He admitted she is very pretty. Maybe she would adjust after after a few more years, she had come from Russia straight into the high jet set in Manhattan. That was Steven's theory. I know her though. She is a bit spoiled but I think it is more habitual and I hope something will jolt her into place. I showed Steven a video I have in my phone of Natasha working in a clothes factory at age 16. She did that a year between studies to make some money for the family and herself. We got back into the car. The sun was setting fast behind the mountains. Steven was already a friend, I could feel it. He suggested we should go to the beach first for a quick stop, I should see as much of the LA area as possible. Fortunately there was not much traffic but to be sure he took the Santa Monica freeway and we were there in 25 minutes. It was a nice beautiful day at the beach with a cool breeze blowing in from the Ocean. He encouraged me to dip my feet in the Ocean. “You must at least have touched the Pacific Ocean!” he said. I took off my shoes and felt the warm sand. The water was rather cold however. After a few minutes it was time to head back. I was getting hungry and Steven was too. He suggested going to Malibu Seafood in nearby Malibu, a lovely restaurant with a large semi-outdoor area facing the beach just along the Pacific Coast Highway. I had Fish and Chips with a side salad. The food tasted so nice, enhanced by the freshness of the nearby Ocean. I didn't want to go but it was time to head back. We drove past Hollywood again and got to West Hollywood by 10 pm. We went down to Santa Monica Boulevard, the main artery of West Hollywood. The whole place is definitely a party town. Bars and nightclubs are mixed with outdoor dining restaurants. Up above the colorful streets of West Hollywood, in the hills, pretty, expensive houses with pools and beautiful trees. Some of the sidewalks are rainbow colored. Steven drove quite fast as if he was in a hurry. Once we headed into Hollywood he told me why;

He had two tickets to an afternoon taping of The Adina Show in Burbank. He didn't want to go alone. He had planned to go with his boyfriend but that was not an option now. I told him I had never been to a television show and it would be fun. We got into his car, he had lowered the roof so we felt the sun and the air. It was a nice drive up CahuengaBoulevardin Hollywood and then we made a right turn to get to the studio.

Steven knew one of the producers so was able to get us back stage passes and we could wait in one of the spare green rooms. We got through security parked and were shown to the green rooms and to our joy the staff had placed fruit and wine in our room 'with the complimentsof the Adina staff. I tucked into some pineapple and ice cream and had gone half way through when an assistant told us it was time to take out seats in the front row so I gulped up the remaining dessert on my plate and we took out seats. The same production assistant came on stage and told us how the show would work, there were applause signs in the ceiling and when they lit it would be appropriate and suggested to clap and cheer.

On this show the guests would be President G.W. Bush and Ne-Yo. Adina then ran out and greeted us all and she cracked a few jokes. Both guests have been on theshow before. First out was President Bush. The 'Taping' signs in the ceiling lit up. President Bush was wearing a red cardigan and had brought with him a painting of Adina he had made. The normally bubbly Adina sat down and was taken aback by the gesture. She then produced another joke: "You got me to a tear here and, well, make one of

my adorable cat too and you will need to bring a box of Kleenex, this is just beautiful thank you so much!" It was a new experience seeing people in real life and up so closefor the first time and not just on the television. She then played 'guess that price' and the President got all the prices right.

Ne-Yo came on and talked about a new album. He also performed a song from the album. He was really good. For a few moments I forgot all my stresses and felt I was in a special zone. I didn't want this show taping to end. But it did sooner

than I had hoped.

I was hoping to catch a selfie with Adina and show it to Daniel. He would be happy and so wished he had been here. But she had to rush home for an anniversary dinner. Steven got chatting to Ne-Yo outside the green room. He is a huge fan. President Bush stopped by too. I was shy but eventually I stepped up and got a selfie with myself, the President and Ne-Yo and another with all of us plus Steven. I was so happy.

He suggested a nice place: the NoHo diner in North Hollywood on Magnolia boulevard. "They have the best burgers" Steven said and started describing them. Now I was absolutely starving! The food from the kitchen smelled so nice and we saw the guests at the table nextto us also getting mouth watering burgers, fries and crispy salads.

It was dark now. I felt I made a new friend. We had our burgers, onion rings, salads and grapefruit juice.

After all that food I was getting a little sleepy. Steven suggested on my last night in LA I should see West Hollywood. We drove back down to Hollywood and took Sunset Boulevardwestwards, then south on San Vicente to party town.

Most of the clubs were colorful gay clubs, Rage, Revolver and The Abbey. Near the Abbey the restaurant and bar SUR (Sexy Unique Restaurant) which is owned and managed by the famous, beautiful and glamorous British Hollywood celebrity, Lisa Vanderpump.

Natasha was very much into the TV series 'Real Housewivesof Beverly Hills' which was one of the few TV programs we would watch together often in bed. I asked if we could step into 'Sur' for a drink. There was a lovely patio area with virgin trees and nice pink, blue and white mood lighting. We got a table and had a couple of Screwdrivers and champagne. I took out my phone and made a WhatsApp call to Natasha. Fortunately she picked it up. "It is 1am George but I had a bad dream so it is OK, where are you." I videoed around and I heard a scream followed by "Point the camera back, oh that's the husband, Ken and their little dog." I saw the husband a few tables away. I told her I knew she would be happy to get a video call from here. She thanked me and said she could now have nice dreams. We had a nice call for a change.

It was getting late. I though, I willmiss this place. It was such a nice evening, everything looked so pretty. From the colorful lights coming from the clubs and shops to the distant lights from the houses up on the mountain sides above. We walked back to Steven's car. He was getting really sleepy and said 'Do you mind crashing at my place and I'll take you back to the hotel tomorrow morning, I have a spare room and bed." I thought: okay.

The drive was very short, five minutes westwards into Beverly hills and a nice apartment building. The sprinklers were on, watering the grass in front of the building with large Yucca trees gracing the lower facade.

We went inside, the apartment was really nice and I thought Natasha would have loved this. Steven was so tired he just showed me to the room, got some clean sheets out and made my bed, gave me a spare toothbrush and a towel then excused himself to go to sleep. I went to sleep almost immediately myself.

I was woken up by the sun tickling my face. I walked into the kitchen where Steven greeted my good morning. He was heating croissants and brewing coffee.

My phone buzzed with a call. It was Natasha. “George, how are you? I want you to do something for me.” Her voice sounded a bit cold. “Can you pick up the shoes and scarf for me at Prada in Beverly Hills.” “Yeah okay, I'm here actually, it is such a nice sunny day wish you were here.” “Whatever George, just get my scarf, bye. ”Hmmm she must have woken up on the wrong side this morning!” My phone buzzed again, it was Daniel. Daniel was on the subway and his call was cutting in and out.

It was hard to hear what he was saying: “Get as much moneyas can....bank. Now! Hurry! They will freeze ...we.. .under investigation!”

Steven was half dressed and asked if I needed a ride anywhere so I told him I had to go tomy bank as soon as possible. As we were finishing the breakfast Daniel called again. “Have you gotten your money?”

Steven was getting ready as he was late for an appointment with a modeling agency. There was another guy in the bedroom with him. Some guy he had given his number to at the Revolver. He let himself out. It was a nice another sunny and crisp morning. It didn't take long to drive along Sunset Boulevard until we got to a Bank of America in Hollywood. I got out of the car and walked into the branch hoping that everything was still OK with my account. I wondered how I could carry a lot of cash but then I remembered the Prada bag. It would have to do. The teller looked at the withdrawal slip. She hardly blinked, tapped away on her keyboard, then I saw the amount show up on the keypad display and she asked me to punch my debit card pin and then sign. “Okay that's withdrawn now from your account so I'd better go and get you your cash, I will be back momentarily.” I sensed a sigh of relief and texted Daniel “At Bank, money withdrawn OK,” The 130,000 dollars I was withdrawing was almost all of what I had in my savings account. She took my ID. and walked away. A few moments later she got back with a large white paper bag and a counter machine. We ran through the money which was all in one hundred dollar bills. She put the money inside a plastic bag, tied it and placed it inside the paper bag and punched two paper-staples through it to make it more secure. 1300 bills later I walked off. She didn't ask any questions. I suppose here in Hollywood this might be a regular occurrence.

I started waitingfor the WALK sign to cross the street. The sun was in my eyes so I had a hard time seeing what was going on.

I looked down on the withdrawal slip again I had in my hand, it looked okay so about $28000 left.

I looked up again and to my horror I saw this black convertible heading straight at me. The WALK sign was still on but people here can turn against red. I knew he was going to hit me. I had a second to react. I heard the car tires screeching as the driver hit the brakesbut it was too late, He was going to hit me! It was happening in slow motion. I thought I may die now! I didn't know why at the time but I jumped up and when he hit me I landed on the bonnet of the low profile car. I didn't feel much pain and amazingly didn't losemy balance but stood up.

The driver rushed out of his car totally shocked and almost yelling at me.

“I didn't see you man, The sun was in my face and I just didn't see you are you okay, are you okay? You need to go to a hospital!”

I felt fine. So I said “Nah thats okay just watch where you are going.'' Isaw the paper bag with money which had landed in his back seat and intact without anything falling out. I pointed to it and he hurriedly handed it to me and drove off”

I know I should go to have myself checked over as with any impact there could be internal injuries not immediately felt.

I now saw Steven running towards me asked if I was okay and that I was shaking. “you were so so lucky! Most people end up with severe injuries or worse! I can't believe what I just saw, youflew up a fair bit!” I didn't have time to think about what could have happened so I just smiled at him.

We did a quick check-over of me. My shirt was actually torn by the left arm and underneath was a wound with a little blood coming out of it. Same thing right under my left ankle which had smashed into the front of the hood. I also had marks on both trousers around the knee area. I was a bit scared to find out what was underneath. More bruising.. Compared to what could have been though I felt fine.

He drove me back towards downtown though first a detour to stop by Prada in Beverly Hills where Natasha's bag and a scarf was ready for collection. I got in, and they had it indeed, just the small matter of putting $1400 on my Visa credit card. He then drove me downtown but had to rush back to Hollywood for another commercial shoot at Paramount. He hugged me goodbye as I was leaving tonight. I promised to come back soon. The flight was at 5.25 pm. It was now 2.45pm. I sure didn't want to lose this bag. I walked into Macy's nearby and bought a nice looking sturdy duffel bag for $55. Oddly, I wasn't able to pay with any of my cards. The till said, “Declined.” I had a $100 bill in my wallet. I didn't want to have to reach for the big stash. I walked a few blocks back to the hotel on Main Street, got to my room, placed the cash and the few pieces of extra clothes I had bought into the Prada bag.

No cabs around. I was too impatient to call one or get an Uber so I ran back to the Metro and got the train the few stops to Union Station. Up the escalator, I followed the signs for the Lax FlyAway bus. I got to the cashier and handed over my Visa card for the $9 fare. “Sir your card is declined.” I handed over my debit card. Also, declined. My phone buzzed. No time to answer. The bus would leave in five minutes and there was a short line behind me. Corporate Amex. All declined. Weird. I got out a $10 bill from my wallet to pay my ticket. My phone rang again. I rushed to the bussothe phone call would have to wait. I felt my shirt sleeves picking up some drops of sweat and I wiped my forehead. Once on the bus which was now making its way out onto the freeway, I checked the phone. 24 missed calls, 8 new WhatsApp messages threads, 5 emails. What was going on? I checked WhatsApp. First, there was a message from Daniel “Really bad things are going down, call me.” His voice was clear now. He said they had arrested half the staff, including the bosses. There was a warrant for Natasha's arrest also but not sure how that was connected. Daniel had managed to get $11,000 out from his bank account before it was frozen. I was happy he had warned me but now what?

He told me someone had taken aim shot at him from a building as he left his apartment this morning but NYPD has instructions to tell him not to leave town. He told me he was in a cab on the way to JFK to get onto any flight out of the country. I walked over to an ATM inside the terminal. It not only said my card had been declined, but it retained it. Part of me thought about just leaving the country. Mexico came to mind. In thinking about where to go, I eventually stepped aboard the American Airlines flight to New York, JFK. I hadn't done anything wrong. I thought that I should just go back home and clear things out. I could also put the cash back in the bank. The plane was taxiing, I felt my phone vibrate. It was a text from Daniel: “I've boarded a plane to Budapest, Hungary. I think someone is trying to kill me and if they are, you could also be a target. They released Simon and Richard after the police believed their story, that we committed the fraud. ”My heart sank. New York City is the last place I should be flying to. And what was worse was that Simon and Russell surely knew that I was on this flight. I unbuckled my belt. The flight steward unfastened his belt in the nearby jump seat, rushed over to me and told me to get back into my seat; we were on the runway and a moment away from take-off. I told him I needed to get off. But it was too late. I buckled back up as the flight attendant returned to his jump seat. We accelerated down one of the runways and headed out over Pacific ocean briefly before making a turn by Santa Catalina island and heading back eastwards

I had a brandy and settled for relaxing for a bit. Whatever was to come would come. The next five and a halfhours would be serene I decided. I couldn't help but thinkingwhat was going on in New York. So I decided to turn on my phone for just a moment. I connected to the in-flight WI-fi.

Three new messages. All from Daniel. “Go to Hungary or Europe.” “Don't stick around.” “Let me know when you are out of the country.”

That was pretty to the point. I decided I needed to follow his advice. I didn't know where to go though. I drifted off to sleep

By the time I woke up most of the flight had passed. I had missed the business class complimentary dinner. It was time to land..

On my way through the concourse onto baggage claim I stopped by NY1 news which ran the story. There was Simon Smedley at an NYPDpress conference holding up a bunch of documents I had never seen before in my life and with what looked like my signature. How he faked it I don't know. I felt sick.