Jennifer Garner and Halle Berry speaking out on behalf of an Assembly Bill to limit the reach of celebrity photographers, paparazzi, caught my eye. The proposed legislation would limit photogs from snapping pics of celebrity kids.
I can’t blame Garner and Berry for wanting more protection.
Here’s a clip loaded on to YouTube and after the video clip are three excerpts from Boarding. Buy links are below or visit my Books page.
The paparazzi and a gossip columnist out to exploit a model’s sexuality are part of the later chapters in Boarding.
Veve steered, slowed, and glanced to a stand-alone building mere blocks from where Jessie attended the lingerie shoot. Light shone through a tall, narrow window. At the next street, she turned her SUV right and then right again to an alley and stopped in front of a chain link fence where, at the press of a button, a gate retracted and let her maneuver to a canopy with bushy trees and shrubs on either side. Jessie couldn’t help but touch the customized wood grain paneling and push against the seats that beckoned her to lie down.
“Rani, the dear, is working late.” Veve, pocketed the keys, glanced in the mirror, and stepped out. Jessie and Raymond, exited and followed her lead. The gate rattled along its tracks to a close.
Veve wasted no time grabbing her purse and moving from the driver’s side to the front door where she opened it quickly and stepped inside the frame.
Probably a move perfected to avoid the paparazzi.
Once inside the frame she held it for Jessie and Raymond while keeping her face angled away from the street.
Trudy’s eyes exuded empathy. “Jessie, I don’t want to put a damper on a tremendous opportunity. And Veve is such a credit to the industry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jessie, I’ve heard of her admiring a young designer’s work and striking up a relationship. And then I’ve heard about young women becoming—” Trudy paused and rubbed her hands together. Her smile was nowhere in sight. “—her toy.” Trudy paused again. “And the idea of consensual didn’t exist.”
Jessie pursed her lips but stayed silent. She grabbed the bag of fabrics, moved a few steps past the checkout counter, and stood still. “That’s not very nice.”
“You’re right. Rumors. Perhaps.”
Although Darla made a questionable comment on Wednesday. Here was a second person in two days.
Yes, silly rumors. Veve was a favorite on daytime talk and her husband was a handsome man and she did have a studio that doubled as a BDSM escape. The doors could easily be kept locked.
“I’m not going to be alone with her.” Jessie wished she could strike the defensive tone from her voice. She found Veve physically striking and the conversation at the pub was both pleasant and inspiring.
“That’s good. Safety first, I always say.” Trudy held her purse and took a step toward the door.
Veve lifted the hem of Stephanie’s dress and tapped her flesh lightly with the crop, like she was savoring the moment and in absolutely no hurry.
Suddenly, a door slammed from the alcove and boomed throughout the cavernous setting.
“Hey, get out of here!” Someone shouted.
A commotion grabbed the crowd’s attention and two men, one with a belly rolling over his jeans, strode forward. When they parted Trudy Wilcox stepped forward holding a notepad and pen. A third man, the one with scraggly hair who ambushed Jessie and Callan near the subway and hot dog cart, gripped a camera strapped to his shoulder and stood behind her.
“Oh, Veve, good evening. I thought I might find you here.” She was the queen of the insincere greeting.
“Get out of here! This is private property,” snapped Torrey.
Trudy remained calm and made her way along the edge of the crowd. “Oh, yes. I don’t mean to disturb anyone. I thought perhaps Veve might be willing to give an interview and talk about her newest plans.”
A few people turned away.
Veve motioned for Stephanie to stand upright and placed a hand on her shoulder and then moved between her and Trudy. “You’re timing is impeccable.”
Rani brought Veve’s clothes to her, but Veve waved him off.
“Yes, dear. I thought being such a reputable reporter I would rather deal in facts than conjecture.” Trudy glanced at the suspension bars, the wooden horse, and the ropes. Finally, she looked at Veve and raised an eyebrow. “Are you holding something related to your latest project?”
Veve smiled. The onlookers had mostly dispersed with a small group heading to the bar, keeping their backs to the goings-on.
“You’ll be speaking to our attorneys,” warned Torrey.
“Ah, there’s Jessie,” said Trudy, waving and ignoring the statement. “I saw her in the fabric store this afternoon.” Her smile was ever present, as were the men accompanying her. “I’m still willing to give you a nice tip in exchange for your perspective on Veve.” Raymond finally strolled in from the alcove. “Your boyfriend is going to profit handsomely.”
Torrey groaned and shook his head.
Panic, anger, and a surge for revenge on Raymond gripped Jessie. She wanted to race out the door in shame and flee to where no one could find her.
Veve caressed the riding crop. “It would be best to talk to me and get the full story.”
“Put this on, hon,” said Rani, offering her clothes.
“It might spoil the interview,” Veve replied, standing with her feet firmly planted shoulder-width and holding the riding crop waist high with both hands.
“Veve.” Torrey’s utterance denoted caution.
Trudy pivoted on her heels, seeming as much like she had the right to be present as anyone else. “How nice, I’m sure your fans will want to know all about these kinky exploits.”
“It’s of no concern to you or anyone else,” Torrey exclaimed, jabbing his finger in the air as if to forcefully drive home his point. Callan clenched his fists and Rani eyed the men accompanying her, his body tense and ready to spring into action.
An air of calm and control rose from Trudy and she kept her gaze on Veve. “The public who adores you has a right to know.”
“I’m telling you—” Torrey’s voice rose.
Veve raised a hand and cut him off. “You’re right. The public does have a right to know.” She laid the riding crop on her shoulder and addressed the crowd. “Our friend here, Trudy Wilcox, a noted writer and gossip columnist who has been published in some of the best and worst outlets, believes that what we do here shouldn’t be hidden behind locked doors.”
Veve smiled, pivoted, and ran her fingers through Stephanie’s hair. “And I agree. Judging from the passion and self-confidence our dear Stephanie displayed this evening we shouldn’t bury the truth of who we are or what we desire.”