WE PULL UP to the bright red front door of a larger-sized house in Calabasas, similar to the one next door I had toured with CJ, Dan and Suzanne. I savor my last few minutes of solitude by mentally running through the instructions Rose emailed to me earlier, which included not to greet my date at her front door for some weird reason. Not that I’m complaining. All too soon, the driver opens the door and Mimi Barker peers inside.
“It’s not a limo, but I guess this will do.”
We’re getting off to a great start. Plastering a smile on my face, I offer her my hand. “Hi, Mimi.”
She places her palm in mine and plasters a determined look on her face as she enters the SUV. Her fingers tighten around mine as she balances on one stiletto-clad foot. Whatever. She didn’t want me on her front step, so I don’t feel compelled to get out and help her. Finally, she settles into the backseat beside me. “Hello, Cole. Nice to finally meet you.”
The way she’s smacking her gum, some sickly-sweet flavor, is distracting. “It’s a pleasure.”
“You know, when Justus picked me up, he had a white limo. And when Erik came, he used a black Hummer. I’ve never been picked up for a date in just an SUV before.”
She’s obviously the type who likes name dropping. “Greta VonStein arranged this for us. She thought the Mercedes SUV would appear more intimate.”
She chews her gum while considering my last statement. Popping a bubble, she cocks her head and responds, “Yeah. Maybe. So, we’re going out to dinner at Nobu?”
I nod.
“I love that place! Although the one in Malibu has awesome ocean views, the one in LA is pretty great, too. The waiters are so cute, and the food is ah-maz-ing! You’ll order us a bottle of Dom Rosé, right?”
Does this woman ever take a breath? “I hadn’t—”
“Of course you will. It’s the most expensive bottle on the menu. Oh, and make sure to order caviar.”
“I don’t really care for—”
She extends her index finger toward my lips. Her nail is painted black with some sort of design on it. “Oh, where are my manners? We can discuss the menu when we get to the restaurant. Now, ask me anything you want to know about me.”
How do I turn you off? “Um, well, what type of music do you like?”
“I love your album, Cole. Especially ‘Prowling.’ ROAR!” She makes a gesture like she’s going to attack me.
I stop myself from recoiling too far into the seat. Forcing another smile, I ask, “Then you’ll be happy to accompany me to the video premiere next week?”
“Oh, yes. When your offer came in through my people, I was thrilled. The red carpet loves me. It’s so much fun doing interviews and mingling with my peeps.”
She is going to be a nightmare.
“It’s only a music video premiere. I don’t know how big of a deal it will be.”
Mimi squeezes my knee. “Once word gets out that I’m going to be your date, it will be a big deal.” And here I’d hoped the video was the big deal.
“I guess we need to talk about how you’re going to react to seeing me on screen with Meghann.”
“That’s easy. She’s not the one on your arm. She was just a hired actress.”
“As opposed to what we’re doing?”
“Cole, this”—she points her black fingernail between the two of us—“is us dating. The video shows you two playing a part. I’ll act like how any normal girlfriend would. A bit jealous that another woman got her grubby paws on my man, but confident because you’re going home with me.”
Schooling my features into a neutral expression, I swallow my distaste. “Sounds like you got it all figured out.”
“It’s not my first rodeo.” I’ll bet.
The SUV pulls up to Nobu. Mimi wiggles in her fire engine red dress, adjusting her boobs to make sure her very ample cleavage is in my face. And that of every waiting photographer. “Now, Cole, make sure you walk around and open my door to help me out of the”—she pauses—“SUV. I’ll make sure the paps know we’re out on a date. Stick close by so that you’ll be in the photos with me.”
Seriously? Despite her hot body, she’s one of the more superficial people I’ve met…and that’s saying something. How many more hours of this torture?
Taking a deep breath, I get out and walk around the vehicle. The paparazzi spot me and start shouting questions.
“Cole! Cole! Over here!”
“When is your video coming out?”
“The photos you put on social media are hot!”
“Is Meghann with you?” If only… That last question makes me long for Funnel Cake.
Shaking my head, I offer a big smile and open Mimi’s door. The paparazzi jockey to get their first glimpse of who’s in the SUV. Mimi waits a full minute before extending her hand to take mine. I assist her to the sidewalk. She’s surprisingly graceful on her exit. Gotta hand it to her, she knows how to make an entrance.
I wrap my arm around her and both of us smile for the cameras. “Oh my, it’s Mimi Barker!”
“You’re looking beautiful tonight, Mimi!”
“Mimi, Mimi, this way!”
“When did you meet Cole?”
I try to guide her to the front entrance, but Mimi has other ideas. She pulls me toward the paps instead of away from them.
“Looking good, Mimi!”
She poses while I stand with my arm around her, smiling like the fool I am. She steps away from me and does a slow twirl for the cameras, stopping with her back toward them and throwing a look over her shoulder. A cut out on the back of her dress extends all the way to the top of her ass.
Pretending to be jealous, I put my hand on her bottom cheek and lean down to her ear, whispering, “Time to go inside.” Knowing I have to give them something more, I place a kiss on her neck and usher her toward the front door, guiding her with the hand still cupped around her ass. Catcalls from the paparazzi tell me they’re loving our display.
As soon as she plants her ample ass in the chair, I note, “You really enjoy working the line.”
“Oh yes. The paparazzi usually take wonderful photos of me. And they’re funny with all the questions they ask. They want to know everything I’m doing, who I’m with, and where I’m going.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
She tilts her head to the side and purses her collagen-injected lips. Putting her gum into a slip of paper, she replies, “Why would that bother me?”
“Don’t you want to keep anything private?”
“Of course, silly. I don’t share everything. But most of my life is an open book and I’m happy to let my fans read.”
I stifle the urge to shake my head…barely. Luckily, the waiter comes and hands us menus. Mimi taps on the wine list. I heed her earlier request and order a bottle of Dom Perignon Rosé. After the waiter leaves, she starts to tell me about all of the other times she’s been to this restaurant, sharing information about her dinner companions.
The waiter interrupts her soliloquy with the champagne. He pours two glasses, tells us the specials and leaves. Faster than Jeffrey’s drumsticks, she whips out her phone, snaps a photo and drops the phone back into her purse. Without waiting to toast, she quickly knocks back her glass. I do the same. Why the hell not? Maybe it will numb the pain of having to share a meal with her.
Pouring us each another glass, I look over the menu. “What are you going to have for dinner?”
“I’m definitely having the caviar, and I think I’ll have Wagyu beef as well. Oh, with a Bluefin roll.”
“Sounds good.”
“I only order the most expensive items on a menu. People like seeing the pictures I post online, and they all comment on what good taste I have.”
What can I say to that logic? I bury myself in the menu while she prattles on about whatever. The waiter returns and we give him our orders.
“So, Cole, I was super excited to hear that you wanted to go out with me. Tell me, what attracted you to me?”
I take another long swallow of champagne. Might as well be honest. “My publicist set this date up.”
As she contemplates my response, she downs her second glass of champagne. Making a face, she sets the empty flute back on the table. “Well, I’m still excited that we’re out together.”
“Is something wrong with the champagne? You looked like you weren’t enjoying it just then.”
“Oh, I hate champagne.”
Baffled, I ask, “Then why did you want me to order it?”
“Because everyone knows that champagne is the best for celebrating, and we’re celebrating our first date. You know, you never said if you like my dress. But judging from how you grabbed my ass, I think you do.” She winks at me.
The quicksilver changes in her conversation are unnerving, but the way she lives her life in the spotlight is even more so. “It’s a very dramatic dress. Especially from the back.”
The waiter brings out our first course, my date snaps another picture and I dive into my dumplings. Mimi picks at her plate. “Don’t you like caviar either?”
“It’s all right.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but say, “You should order what you like to eat. Don’t just blindly choose the priciest items on the menu.” There. I said it.
“I’ve thought about doing that, but my fans’ reactions to my amazing choices is overwhelming. I ate before I came here anyway.”
What a waste. “Suit yourself.”
We get through the rest of dinner with Mimi chattering on about various celebrities she knows, what she’s going to wear to the video premiere, and who’s really fucking whom in Hollywood. As if I give a rat’s ass.
After our dinner plates are cleared, she giggles like a schoolgirl and leans toward me. “I need to go to the little girl’s room,” she whispers.
I lean in and stage-whisper back, “Okay.”
She stands up and turns toward the restrooms. Her nearly backless red dress catches the attention of most of the men in the room. Personally, I’m just thrilled to have a reprieve from all that is Mimi Barker.
While she’s away from the table, the waiter drops off the check. Over two grand, and she didn’t even enjoy her meal. Fishing out my wallet, I give him my black credit card. Matches her nail polish.
Shaking my head to banish my previous thought, I check my cell. I missed a photo from Dan. He and Suzanne are tanned and wearing flowers around their necks. His text reads: How’s it going with MooMoo?
I laugh so loudly at his nickname for my “date” that other diners turn to look at me. Shrugging at them, I reply: Worse than you could possibly imagine.
The nickname suits her perfectly. Empirically, she’s attractive and has a good body, but her personality and intellect combined are less than zero. Thanks, Dan.
He replies: Sorry dude. Suzanne & I just got lei’d.
I type back an honest reply: Fuck you & your stupid lei too! Smiling, I press send just as Mimi returns to her seat.
“Are you checking us out on social media?”
“Huh? No.”
“Oh. I just figured that was why you had your phone out.”
“I was sending a text to my best friend. He’s in Hawaii on vacation with his new girlfriend.” Why did I share that with her?
“How nice.” Her voice drips with forced sincerity. After a beat, she pulls her cell out and presses a couple of buttons. “Look!” She shoves the phone in my face.
“What am I looking at?”
“My Facebook page. Some of my fans have picked up a photo of us from outside. There’s over 50,000 likes.”
“But we’ve been here less than two hours.”
Her lips droop. “I know, it’s a bit disappointing. We’re going to have to give them a show when we leave the restaurant and head to the club.”
Disappointing? What kind of show? I don’t want to put my hands on MooMoo.
“I think that will do the trick.”
Wait, what? “What will do the trick?”
She sighs loudly. “Weren’t you paying attention to me, Cole?”
Crap. I smile.
“Damn. It’s impossible to be mad at you when you flash that dimple. I said”—she pauses to ensure I’m paying attention now—“I said, while we’re waiting for the lim, er, SUV, why don’t you start kissing me like you can’t hold back. Like I drove you cray cray over dinner and you just have to have at me right away.”
My balls shrivel at her idea. “Frankly, I think it’s best that we try to look like we want some privacy. Less is more.” Cray cray. Really?
Her head dips to the left. “Less is more,” she repeats. “Less is more.” She tilts her head to the right.
The waiter returns with my credit card and bill, which I sign. I leave a good tip, remembering my friends who waited tables while trying to get their big breaks, either in Hollywood or on the NYC music scene. Returning the pen to the tray, I glance at my PR date.
“Well, we could try your idea of less is more. If we don’t get at least 250,000 likes by the time we leave the club, we’ll do it my way.”
She blows me an air kiss. Ugh. Hopefully by the time we leave, she’ll be so drunk off her nearly exposed ass she’ll have forgotten all about this stupid idea.
“Sounds good. Let me call the car.” When I receive a text that our ride is out front, I stand and walk behind her chair. “Ready to go?”
She giggles. “You’re such a gentleman, Cole.”
Linking my arm through hers—mostly because I don’t want to touch her ass again—I direct her toward the front door. Outside the restaurant, the SUV is surrounded by paparazzi. “Remember,” I remind her, “less is more.”
Flashes go off from all directions. She looks up at me and smiles. “One little one.” Placing her hands on my cheeks, she pulls my head down to hers and kisses me. Her lips are surprisingly soft, but I feel nothing. Pulling back, I let my hands fall to her waist.
The paps toss out their questions. “Where are you two going now?”
“What did you have to eat?”
“Did you enjoy your dinner, Micole?”
The last comment sticks in my brain on replay. Opening Mimi’s door, I whisper in her ear, “What the fuck is a ‘Micole’?”
She giggles. “It’s a mash-up of our names. I like it.” I close the door and try not to look too disgusted as I walk around to my side.
“Are you taking her to your place, Cole?”
“What’s it like to date Mimi?”
Looking at the paps, I reply honestly, “Being with Mimi is beyond my wildest imagination.” I duck into the SUV.
When I glance over, I’m met with a Cheshire cat smile. I give her a quizzical look. “So, I’m beyond your wildest imagination, huh?” She slides across the seat to press up against me.
A ping announces the arrival of a new text. I make a grab for my cell, which is thankfully in my back pocket closest to her. I ease away from her to pull out my phone. Saved by Rose: “Saw some pix already in the media. Looks good. Gave the head’s-up to the paps about your next stop. All on track—enjoy!” As if.
“Who’s the text from?”
And she’s nosy, besides. “Greta’s team. The media have been alerted to our next stop.”
“Great. By tomorrow, everyone will know that we’re an item.”
“For publicity only.”
“Yeah, for publicity.” She curls against me again, placing my arm around her shoulders. “So nice.”
Ugh. I’m sure she screws all her “dates.” I usually do too, but not this one. However, I can’t afford to piss her off. Greta would have my ass. “So, ah, I really like this club we’re going to.”
“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. The drinks are strong.” And they’re going to be plentiful.
A short time later, we pull up in front of the club. The line stretches around the block, but we breeze right to the front. Well, breeze and pose for dozens of photos. We walk into the VIP section and I order her a Cosmo and a beer for me. Slipping the waitress a hundred dollar bill, I tell her to keep Mimi’s drinks coming.