Friends with Benefits by Melody Mayer

off all summer—the tuition for Santa Monica College just went up again.”
    â€œWhat are you studying?”
    â€œEarly childhood education. I love kids.”
    Pay dirt.
    Lydia set her open bottle on the counter. “I happen to know of a fantastic job working with kids. I’m guessing it pays a whole lot better than here.”
    â€œHuh.” Alexis cocked her head at Lydia with interest and lowered her voice. “What is it?”
    Lydia reached into her purse and tore off the corner of Martina and Jimmy’s schedule, then scribbled her name and number on it. “Call me. This is totally for real.”
    Alexis held up the paper with a dubious look. “You don’t even know me.”
    â€œI’m
real
in tune with the universe,” Lydia said, careful to look as earnest as possible. “I have a strong vibe about you. So call me.”
    â€œOkay. Thanks.” Still unconvinced, Alexis stuck the paper into her pocket.
    Hmmm.
Time to change tactics. “I can tell that you’re not going to call me.” Lydia shrugged. “Oh well. Your loss. See ya, Alexis. Have a pleasant life.”
    As Lydia returned to the observation window, she saw Alexis take out the scrap of paper with Lydia’s phone number and study it.
    Dang. It was almost as easy as finding edible hellgrammites.

10
    Esme held tight to Weston’s hand as she opened the massive double mahogany doors of the Major Modeling Agency, located on the twenty-first floor of the high-rise at the northwest corner of La Cienega and Beverly Boulevard. The agency was fortunate to be on that corner, since it came with a Beverly Hills address instead of one in West Hollywood.
    First Esme shepherded Weston inside; then she held the door for Jonathan and Easton. Jonathan had insisted on bringing the twins to the agency, though he had a tennis date at the Riviera Country Club and was dressed in tennis clothes. He would drop them at the agency and then pick them up. Along the way, they had stopped in Hollywood at the main offices of Puppy Love, an upscale pet-grooming service. There they’d dropped off Diane’s Pomeranian to have its nails done and hair bow changed; Diane planned to switch the current zebra stripes to hot pink with tiny pale pink polka dots, in honor of FAB’s two-toned pink logo.
    Fortunately, the twins had escaped the same treatment. Instead, they were wearing matching crimson silk kimonos with smiley-faced dragons hand-embroidered on the back, and thick obi sashes at their nonexistent waists. These were samples of Emily Steele designs that the girls would be wearing in their FAB fashion show late that afternoon. As for Esme, she knew she had a long day ahead with the kids; she’d dressed for comfort in jeans, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops.
    It had been a strange ride from Bel Air to the agency, to say the least. Jonathan and Esme had sat together in the front seat of the Range Rover (one of the nine vehicles Diane and Steven owned, including a Lotus that Steven drove only on a special closed racecourse in Riverside). The twins had been buckled into their safety seats in the back. They had been in an ebullient mood, singing Spanish songs all the way. But Esme had found herself extremely taciturn, giving monosyllabic answers to Jonathan’s questions about her plans for the day, what she had done the night before. She wasn’t about to say that she’d been out with her paramedic boyfriend. Not because Jonathan would care, but rather because she was so sure he wouldn’t.
    Jonathan explained that he’d been at a pre-FAB party hosted by some record label. Esme stared straight ahead. Of course he hadn’t invited her to this party. For all she knew, he’d been there with Mackenzie. Then he had the nerve to bring up the unfinished tattoo Esme had designed on his bicep; when could Esme finish it?
    She told him she was busy in a tone that closed down the conversation.