The California Club Part 41

'Fine, if I could just get ...' Zo does one more thrust, flas.h.i.+ng him in the process. 'There!' she triumphs. 'Okay?' She looks at me for approval.

'It's fine,' I tell her. 'A lot of the surfers at La Jolla had their tops tied at the back like that.'

This doesn't seem to be what Zo wants to hear so I add: 'Just think, if there are casting agents here scouting for the long-awaited sequel to Point Break, you'll be first in line!'

'You're right!' Zo nods, taking my arm as we stride into the lobby.

First thing we notice is the trademark banana-leaf wallpaper and the second is the dazzling chandelier, its gold leaf surround adding a luxuriant glow to the room. It feels like Lana Turner could walk by any moment.

'Imagine if the press did find out!' Zo scours the potted palms for a prying paparazzo lens. 'I might end up in heat as one of the "On or Off!" couples.'

They'd have to do a "Where are they now?" piece first,' I mutter as we try to locate the lifts.

'Well, he's obviously doing all right if he's staying here.'

'He's not paying, the movie company is,' I remind her.

'All the same ...' Zo shrugs, reaching for the elevator call b.u.t.ton. Her finger stops an inch short, halted by the sound of expensive laughter and c.h.i.n.king gla.s.ses.

I follow her gaze to the Polo Lounge.

'Shall we take a peek, just for a second?'

California Suite is playing on a TV screen above the bar. We stand in quiet awe remembering the last time we watched the Neil Simon comedy cla.s.sic - four storylines all relating to this very hotel on Oscar night.

'Maggie Smith!' Zo pips as she swirls on screen in a voluminous chiffon gown.

'This is the best bit,' I chortle predicting her line about her red carpet dress giving her a definite hump.

'It cost 500 and I look like Richard the Third!' she complains.

'I know the feeling.' Zo catches the sight of her reflection in a gla.s.s door. And then she brightens, 'Shall we have a gla.s.s of bubbly?'

'Instead of Eddie's nightcap?' I'm ever-hopeful.

She gives me a rueful look. 'I suppose we shouldn't keep him waiting any longer...'

Sunset Suite: a pair of black mesh boxers greets us at the door. They look extremely pleased to see us. We follow them into the plush lounge area, elbows sparring for a rib nudge as we take in the mirrored bar, team of velvety sofas and grand piano. (One of the ones it's compulsory to lie across in a slinky satin dress.) I try to direct Zo's attention to the twelve-seater mahogany dining table groaning under a pyramid of exotic fruit, but she's still hypnotized by the array of booze on offer. But Eddie swiftly dispenses with any 'Can I get you ladies a drink?' pleasantries and heads straight for the bedroom.

Zo and I hesitate, wondering what our next move should be.

'Come on through!' he calls.

Wading through the carpet, we bob our heads round the doorframe to find him scrambling onto the bed with a 'let's get started!' grin.

We shuffle awkwardly over to the end of the bed, dazed by his presumption. I have to admit he's in pretty good shape for his age his biceps are robust and his torso is tanned and toned with a silky-smooth sheen to it. I wonder if it's his own.

'What do you think?' Zo turns to me, acting as if she's put him on pause and he can't hear us.

I feel like an inept medical student trying to make a diagnosis. 'Oh I don't know, what do you think?' I bat the question back to her, swaying slightly as I do.

'I did love that Kissing in the Rain song of his,' she whispers. 'Remember I bought two copies in case I wore one out?'

'Er, ladies ...?' Eddie gives us a quizzical look, clearly uncomfortable with being resistible for even a second.

'Why don't I give you two some time alone,' I suggest.

Best I rid him of any thoughts of a threesome scenario right now.

'Do you play the piano at all?' Zo tries to make polite conversation as I grope for the exit but for him the talking is done his arm encircles her like a la.s.so, pulling her on top of him. I hesitate to see if she needs rescuing but already she's responding willingly to his liquor-lubricated lips. The madam in me sighs, 'My work here is done!'

My intention was to return to the lounge, perhaps to serenade them with Chopsticks or do a little fruit-carving to while away the time but apparently I've taken the wrong turning as I now find myself in the sumptuous. en-suite bathroom. Endless toiletries are set out along the meter of pink marble. I'd say he's got a definite aftershave fetish there's at least ten different bottles. As I squirt Davidoff Cool Water into the air I feel like I've snuck into the Gents at a posh nightclub there's everything here but the fanned-out chewing gum sticks and the saucer for tipping the attendant.

In amongst his wares I find the hotel goodies. They sure don't scrimp on shampoo here. Normally the complimentary samples come in individual follicle portions but these are at least half the size of your average shop-bought bottle with the cool signature palm print on the label. I'd love to come up with a really covetable kit for the B&B. If I was keeping it on. Which I'm not. But just in case ... Without thinking, I unclasp my bag and sweep the entire stash including his aftershaves into my bag. I've never stolen anything in my life but it seems the right thing to do. I'm just delighting in a darling little hairspray the size of a Gold Spot breath freshener when Eddie yells, 'Hey honey, could you bring me the body lotion?'

I balk, eyes wide with guilt. Frantically I rummage through the booty in my bag. Talc, no. Sewing kit, no. Mouthwash boy that would sting. Ha! Hand & body lotion. I throw one of the hand towels over my arm and take a casual un-thief-like stroll back into the bedroom, presenting the lotion to him like a vintage Bordeaux.

'Why thank you!' he gives me a courteous smile.

Considering the circ.u.mstances it's all very civilized, but then he has to go and whip off the tablecloth.

'Oh my G.o.d, it's huge!' I gasp, slamming my hand across my mouth.

'I love it when people say that.' He gives a blissful smile before trying to engage me in slathering the scented gunk over his nether regions. I pull away on the pretext of getting extra lotion 100ml will never be enough.

Despite her fabulous s.l.u.ttina persona, I know Zo hates to be lit by anything brighter than a glow-worm so as he resumes his slippery seduction I quickly close the bathroom door and dim the bedside lamps before dutifully gathering up her discarded garments. Once in the lounge, I instinctively begin pairing Zo's socks and laying out her clothes on the sofa, like a mum getting her kid's uniform ready for the first day of school. Finding Eddie's sheer boxers in the collection, I deem it only right that I should wedge them in my bag alongside the toiletries as a keepsake.

I sit awhile, reading the room service menu and wondering if I've got time for a French onion soup, then move on to the directory of services and facilities. I didn't realize the hotel had a collection of on-site bungalows - apparently when they say no one walks in LA this includes stairs. I then learn that Elizabeth Taylor spent six out of her eight honeymoons in a bungalow here! How gloriously unimaginative. It's like returning over and over again to the scene of the crime, determined to make it right this time.

I start thinking about the B&B, what fun it would be to do up a honeymoon suite with pictures of the world's most-married celebrities - Zsa Zsa Gabor, Joan Collins, Jennifer Lopez ... Maybe it could double up as the divorcee suite! I'd give a special rate to women who could show me their divorce papers and then tell them where they could go to pick up a Brighton hunk to celebrate their newfound freedom. I chuckle to myself and then go cold. The B&B isn't mine to have dreams for. Any day now it will become someone else's prerogative and pleasure.

I feel a wail of internal panic I can't let it go. I get to my feet with a sudden sense of purpose I must do something! I turn to look for a phone and find a naked and glistening Eddie looming before me.

My first thought is: 'Uh-oh he's coming for me now!' I must look absolutely terrified because he's quick to a.s.sure me: 'Don't worry, I just need some water ...'

Entirely unconcerned with his nudity, he strolls to the fridge and avails himself of two bottles of Evian still doing a convincing impression of Jake the Peg, diddle-liddle-liddle-lid ...

A few minutes later Zo stumbles from the bedroom wrapped in a towel. She looks sh.e.l.l-shocked with the kind of backcombed, fright-night hair only found on couture catwalks, but seems relieved to be reunited with her clothes.

'What have I done?' she mutters as she wriggles into her trousers.

'I think it's more a question of who have you done?' I sn.i.g.g.e.r, rather unhelpfully.

'I'd better go and say goodbye.'

'Are you going to see him again?'

'We have no immediate plans,' she admits.

'Well, in that case I'd rather we just leave,' I urge, revealing the booty in my bag.

'Lara!' Zo gasps.

'Sshhh! No names! We don't want to leave any clues I've already dusted the place for fingerprints.'

'Not where my hands have been, you haven't!' Zo winces.

'Come on!'

We belt down the corridor, aftershaves clinking, and throw ourselves into the elevator. My heart is pounding and my adrenalin zinging. Please don't let me get a taste for this, I pray. I don't want to get deported before the week is up.

When the elevator door opens again it's on to an unfamiliar scene.

'This isn't the lobby,' I frown.

'Look! There's a sign for the pool shall we just have the quickest peek?'

I look uncertain.

'He's out for the count, don't worry.'

Stripy sunloungers, cool cabanas and canvas umbrellas line the 75-foot-long pool. And we've got the whole thing to ourselves: 6am and we're the only fools awake.

'This is where Raquel Welch was discovered,' I inform Zo.

'How do you-'

'Towels, ladies?' a pool attendant interrupts, raring to do his thing.

I go to decline but Zo reaches across me. 'Yes, thank you.'

'What are you doing?' I hiss as he prepares two loungers for us.

'Look, I've got to be at work in two hours. If I have a swim it might wake me up a bit and then I can shower here and go straight to the diner.'

'How are you going to manage on no sleep?' I fret.

'I'll be fine, the memory of all this will keep me going.'

I'm not convinced.

'Seriously. I wouldn't miss this for the world, I can get all the sleep I need when I'm back home.'

'What are you going to swim in?'

'Bra and knicks, there's no one else around.'

'I think I might join you,' I say, tempted by the aqua waters.

'Ten laps!' Zo enthuses, whipping off her top. Yet again.

Although the water is a pleasant temperature there's no sun s.h.i.+ning on it so I have to stay swimming to keep warm. Thoughts of the B&B continue to race through my head but my initial freak-out has subsided. It's out of my hands. Really, what can I do from here? I feel s.p.a.cey and entirely unconnected with reality. I wonder if modern-day miracles like this are exclusive to LA?

Zo seems to read my mind. 'Things like this just don't happen in Hertfords.h.i.+re,' she muses as she floats out on her back.

I sigh, feeling a strange sense of serenity wash over me. Some people never get to have experiences like this. I feel as if we've found a little portal into the dream. We can't stay but we can enjoy a brief taster.

'I wonder what the others are doing today?' Zo asks.

I'm just about to say they're probably not up yet, but Sasha will already be starting her ch.o.r.es, I know Elise had a sunrise yoga session scheduled today and Elliot certainly wasn't getting any lie-ins in his new role as a park ranger. All the same, I think I'll wait a couple of hours before I call them.

'Shall we move to the Jacuzzi?' Zo suggests.

It's almost too hot at first but soon I adjust to the bubbling ma.s.sage.

'Can you believe we've got the whole place to ourselves?' Zo coos. 'What could be better than this?'

'Well there was this one Oscar winner ...' I gossip. 'To celebrate she asked for her bath to be filled with the finest champagne and then went for a dip!'

'I think that's what they call a bubbly bath!' Zo quips.

I giggle. '$30,000 worth of bubbly can you imagine?'

'No!' Zo gawps. 'How do you know all this stuff?'

'I was reading while you were ...' I tail off.

Zo cringes at the memory.

'Was it really that bad?' I ask.

Zo bites her lip. 'Actually I just wanted to keep laughing!' she giggles as she presses her foot against one of the water jets. 'I couldn't believe it was him!' She wipes the steam from her face, spreading her smile even further. 'All the times I've swooned over him and there he was getting all worked up over me!'

'That's trippy!' I acknowledge.

'I'm glad it happened. I've done it now. Maybe that's all you need with Elliot a one-night stand to get him out of your system?'

'I'd be willing to give it a try,' I concede.

'And if it didn't work the first time you could just try, try again!' Zo laughs.

'Exactly.'

'It's a funny thing getting what you want,' Zo sighs. 'It's not that it doesn't live up to expectations exactly but almost immediately you want something else.'

'So what do you want most of all now?'

'Other than breakfast?'