Hank Patman sat at the window of his mahogany paneled dressing room, looking through his telescope into the rear of the magnificent estate next door. And what a sight it was! He had to admit, in its entirety, it was far more impressive than his own, however, like his own property, it had a timeless elegance, and a much desired ambiance of serenity, high up on the hill, towering over the valley below. He turned the knobs on the instrument, adjusting the lenses to get a closer look. The fresh green impeccably manicured lawn, gentle weeping willow trees dancing in the wind, large Roman inspired swimming pool… the spectacular solidity and grandeur of the brick house…all of them were pleasing to the eye. But none of them were as impressive as what he was now focusing on…..

Her shoulder length blonde hair shone enough to catch his eye, even under the shade of the covered wrought iron gazebo she was lounging in. He could tell that she was in deep conversation with the slim, dark haired woman next to her. Both were beautiful, but it was she who still had his heart racing after all those years. Her movements…..gestures, all her mannerisms…they were all so familiar to him.

After about half an hour of spying on them, Hank moved from the window, watching as the two women walked onto the stone path to the stairs leading to the first floor of the large mansion. Hank chuckled at the situation, feeling like a school boy, enamored with his first crush. He sat down on the small bed in the corner of the room and put on his Italian leather shoes. Hank shook his head, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. He, Henry Wilson Patman, one of the wealthiest men in town, had been reduced to sleeping in his dressing room, in a bed that was better suited for a child. Although the space was larger than the average bedroom, it was still a reminder of how far he had come down in the world. The dressing room did have its advantages, the most obvious being his view of the Morrows' lawn and everything that happened on the other side of the fine sculptured hedges.

Hank sighed wearily as he walked to the mirror and put on his tie. He had a business meeting tonight, and would be dining at the country club. Marie would probably stay at home for dinner. She used to accompany him whenever he went out to eat with his associates, it was standard practice for spouses to tag along. But standards no longer had any meaning. Not after they had been broken. And it was all his fault. The state of his marriage was in disrepair, and he had no signs that it could be resurrected. While they were in France for Bruce's wedding, their housekeeper Maria had discretely arranged for the twin sized bed to be taken down from the attic and placed in the room where Hank kept his wardrobe, beyond the mansion's master bedroom. There was no way he'd be able to keep living in the pool house, especially with Bruce being back home. He knew Bruce was on to the unhappiness between him and Marie, but, like everything else, the Patman's buried their heads in the sand, and pretended that all was normal.

When Bruce returned from France, he and Marie both agreed that they would stay together for his sake. Neither of them wanted the mess or embarrassment of a divorce, or to sully the family's prestige. Being alone in this room gave him plenty of time to think. To dream of times gone by, think about the mistakes he had made, and contemplate the future…. In this grand home, with all it's rooms, he was hidden away like the bastard son.

And….. speaking of which…..

He thought of the small child, who he seldom saw, but the few times he did, remembered him enough to call him "Daddy". He envisioned the child's mother, always demanding, always threatening, always wanting more of his time and money. The money he had plenty of. The time however, he had none to share. Hank ran his hand through his greying hair, deep in thought. He had first seen her from behind, standing on the factory line, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. She was breaking the rules, by having her hair exposed, and he meant to have her reprimanded, to have his manager inform her that it should be placed in a hairnet like all the other workers. But the vision was so similar, it brought on the memories that he could never quite get out of his mind, and he had lost his head. She had turned around, and her eyes were blue, not quite the same shade, but close enough to bring back old feelings, desires he had pushed aside, longings he had locked away, to where he thought they could be hidden forever, to where he would never be confronted with them again.

His father's words entered his mind, and he could almost hear them, filling his ears, as clear as the day Alexander Patman first spoke them.

I can see son, that you need to start thinking with the brain in your head, which as far as I can tell, turns into mush every time you're around that girl. I see very well.

No…..You don't see. You don't see at all! That's not what this is about, Hank raised his voice angrily. I love her! And she loves me!

Love? His father practically spat. The hell you do! What do you know about love Henry? What use is love? Marie Vanderhorn will be good for you, and is good for this family. Your sweet little honey pot Alice is a nobody. In twenty years, you're not going to care. She'll be far less pretty, no longer a suitable bed warmer. Do what you wish with her, she's certainly beautiful enough to keep on the side, but you can never marry her. I forbid it!

For the first time in his life, he had the urge to strike his father, to make him take back the cruel words that he said about the woman he loved. How wrong his father was! It was more than twenty years and he still wanted her. If he only knew then, what he knew now, the true reason why Alexander Patman was so insistent on him marrying Marie…..

Marie was beautiful. Dark haired and slim, with cold blue eyes, her upper lip was more than stiff, and she didn't inspire the heat in his blood that Alice did. Marie had been bred like a prized filly, refined in all ways by the finishing school her father had sent her to. She came with a name as established as his own, and her own fortune, that would definitely give much needed help to the Patmans' canning business. She was everything he was supposed to want. But she wasn't what he wanted. She had a lot to offer, beauty, prestige, and her own inheritance. But she wasn't Alice.

Alice with her bargain basement clothes, the hideous love beads she wore around her wrist, the peace sign sewn onto her favorite jacket, her liberal, radical ideas….her sunny laughter that was like music to his ears.

Of course, she had changed. The glow of youth was no longer with her as when he had first laid eyes on her, but it didn't matter. He remembered her, as she was, her flaxen tresses…. hung straight, and almost at her slim waist. The crystal blue eyes, fringed with thick eyelashes, the perfectly shaped nose, how her soft lips turned upward when she smiled, the small indentation that wasn't quite a dimple in her left cheek…. the cutest thing he ever saw in a woman's face. And today….today she was just as attractive to him, with an enhanced beauty that came from happiness in the direction her life had taken.

He smiled blissfully, remembering when he learned that her hair was naturally wavy. It was the first morning they woke up together. She had come from the shower and let it dry naturally. She had asked him for a blow dryer and he had told her he didn't have one. Then she pouted jokingly and told him she couldn't go outside with her hair in the state it was in, that she wanted it pin straight, like all the girls styled theirs back then. He had run his hands through the silky strands, feeling as if he had died and gone to heaven after he had coaxed her back into his bed. She was missing her art class, and he was probably going to fail statistics because he didn't show up for an exam, but he didn't care.

His father always told him that there was no drug as powerful as a beautiful woman. And back then, Alice Robertson certainly had the power. She made him weak, and Alexander Patman did not like weakness. Those tops that bared her midriff, the beads and flowers she sometimes wore in her hair, holding her sketchpad on the way to art class, the first time she shyly showed him some of her work…. he was enchanted by it all. She had the ability to produce and see beauty in and with anything. She had an eye for, and a mind that was capable of taking the simplest things and filling them with potential. She was fantastic with colors, and just as impressive with a simple pencil and paper.

Hank picked up a credit card statement from off his desk. Among the transactions, line after line indicated a purchase made especially for a young child. Baby Bunting….. Toys for Tots…. Spring Chicken…Baby Factory….. He had opened a new credit card, and given the child's mother free reign over it. It was a bribe more than anything, to shut her up, to keep her hidden….. to keep himself and his family respectful. As respectful as they could be, under the circumstances. Among the stores listed in the billing statement were several that he knew sold nothing that a young child would ever need. He knew she was taking advantage of the situation, spending on herself, shopping all over town to her heart's desire. She no longer worked at the canning factory, and he had secured her an apartment in a better neighborhood than what she had lived in before. Richard….she had named him Richard, and insisted that his last name should be Patman. He saw little Richard at least once a month. He convinced himself that he was better than most men. Most men wouldn't take the time to check on the product of their indiscretions like he did. He was doing his best for his young son. And as for his other son…..

He had practiced it several times, how he was going to confess to Bruce, that he had cheated on his beloved mother, that he had fathered another child, that his lectures on integrity, decency, honor and devotion were all null and voided. That he was a hypocrite, that he gave in to his weaknesses for a woman who brought back memories of the gilded moments of his youth. They went to work every morning, sometimes driving themselves, sometimes driven by Jeeves, and Hank knew he was wasting the opportunities, to get Bruce alone, so he could explain, so he could tell his side, so his son would understand.

But he always chickened out. He couldn't confess, he couldn't bring himself to even start the conversation. At times like this, Hank missed his older brother more than ever. Paul would have made it right. Paul could always stand up to their father, he was honest, decent, and afraid of nothing. He always owned up to his mistakes….was never afraid to show himself humbled. Paul would understand, he also fathered a child with a worker on the factory line. He would have helped to explain it to Bruce …to smooth things over.

Hank put his head in his hands, dreading the confrontation, utterly clueless as to what to say. He couldn't hide baby Richard for as many years as Roger had been kept a secret. Bruce had not been thrilled when he found out about Roger, that he was no longer the sole Patman heir, the only one to proudly carry their family's name. Bruce was still adjusting to life in Sweet Valley, to finally taking his place by his father's side, to learning in the ins and outs of their business. He promised himself that he would come clean as soon as Bruce was more settled, as soon as he upped his game, grew more confident in his position. That is, if Marie didn't tell him first…...


The whole show will be based around the other side of the Howard family, Marve Akins explained to a jubilant Jessica, who, earlier that day had been told the words "You've got the part… we've decided to cast you."

He had called her over an hour ago, and she had rushed to the studio, making to it Los Angeles in record time after calling in work and telling Stuart that she had to take Jake to a doctor's appointment. It wasn't a big lie. Jake did have an appointment, but Jessica had called her mother and asked her to take him. Alice had happily agreed, especially when Jessica explained that she had a big meeting with several up and coming designers that she couldn't miss. The part about the meeting wasn't quite true, but she imagined how proud her mother would be once she started appearing on the soon to debut nighttime series, and figured her little white lie was worth it. Besides, she had never shied away from stretching the truth from her mother.

Your character will be heavily intertwined with their wealthier, but dysfunctional relatives who live near the town of Crystal Sands, an upscale community near Malibu, Marve went on. There will be plenty of beach scenes, and as the name implies, we're focusing on what happens in the small town when the sun sets and everyone who is anyone comes out to play.

Jessica's heart raced with excitement. This was exactly the type of show she loved watching! And she was going to be part of it!

We've decided to cast you as Amanda, Marve smiled. We start taping in a couple of weeks, and by early December, the show will premiere. You're going to be playing Amanda Benton, a young, gorgeous house maid, who seduces Ryan, Jeremy's cousin. His uncle Malcolm, Ryan's father, will be very angry at the whole situation, and will be plotting with Jeremy to break up his son's relationship with her. Until….Marve rubbed his hands…Malcolm starts sleeping with her himself.

A maid! I am going to be a maid!

Jessica was taken aback, not quite liking this new revelation.

Thanks a lot Brandon,! she seethed inwardly, trying to keep her cool in front of Marve. That son of a bitch! He must have done this on purpose! Have me play the lowest character on the show!

She blocked out the sound of Marve's voice, cursing Brandon's name, his arrogant laugh, the annoying flick of his hair, the car he drove, everything she could think of. She didn't show up today, wearing one of her best outfits to be told she was going to be a mere servant!

And….there was one thing in particular that she found herself doing to get a leg up on the situation.

It was something she was not proud of. She thought back to a week ago, in Brandon's dressing room, his cocky smirk, his promises that she would definitely be cast after he put in a few good words for her. She was talented, and indeed beautiful, but so was every other young woman trying out. She needed something special, something that made her stand out. It was easier before, when she had her twin, and the role required the both of them. But this was different. She was all alone. And she needed his help.

This is how these things work, Jessica told herself. She wanted to succeed, and she had to make sacrifices. Even if they were made on her knees, in front of Brandon Hunter, his pants unzipped...

As much as she couldn't stand him, he had a lot of clout in the industry. He had a lot of fans. She wanted to be on top, and she would get there, even if it was Brandon who placed her on the first rung of the ladder.

Who was it that said "There are no small parts, just small actors."? Jessica mused as Marve gave her some papers to sign. She wrote her signature, barely paying attention to what was written on the numerous sheets. So what if her new role was less than glamorous? She was still going to be on television. Even the greatest actresses typically started out with playing less than wonderful personas.

And... as for her most recent performance with Brandon...This was not like the situation with that jackass Brian, who had strung her along, and delivered nothing but an entrance into the shameful world of smut!

It was nothing like that at all! Jessica smiled as Marve called in his secretary and requested a glass of champagne. This was going to be better. This was the real thing! Her dreams were coming true. Finally!…...


Since you've been such a good girl for the past week, we're going to Connecticut tomorrow, Skye said to Vixen as the dog rolled over, exposing her silky belly, her way of asking to be tickled. You'll have grass to run in, plenty of birds and squirrels to chase, and, since it's not too cold, I might even take you for a stroll on the beach, Skye added. But don't think I've forgotten about you trying to chew the strap of my new handbag yesterday,! she scolded. Or think that I'll let you sleep in the big bed tonight. Elizabeth and Nicholas have you spoiled rotten! You'll have to sleep in your own bed! And…. Skye continued, walking over to the dining area. I've seen you flirting with that smelly Kinkade next door. There will be none of that when we get there! You're still a puppy and Elizabeth would murder me if you got pregnant on my watch! Although…..German Shepherds are irresistible. Think of how cute your pups would be!

The dog wagged her tail at Skye's admonishment, and sat in position as soon as she saw her pick up the brush from the table. Skye ran her hand through the dog's luxurious coat, and a sense of calmness enveloped her. Although not a substitute for a grandchild, the furry creature had captured her heart, and she even developed the patience to deal with her slobbering and mischievous antics. It was the near the end of October and her son and his wife were on a second honeymoon, this time to Switzerland. Nicholas had told his parents, Skye especially, that in no uncertain terms this was going to be a family trip, and they wouldn't be flying on the family's jet. He and Elizabeth were going to fly commercial like a normal couple, and she and Kurt were not invited to tag along.

The thought of Switzerland was bittersweet, it was where she had enjoyed so many happy times with her husband and children, and the place where her daughter spent several of the last months of her too short life, away from her family. It was Elizabeth's first trip there and she knew her son had gone out of his way to make sure it would be memorable. Of course she understood their wanting to be alone. But it still stung a little. Nicholas was her only child, and time spent away from him always brought on a sense of loss. She had stopped trying to convince him to move back to California, and the subtle hints she used to give about them having a baby were ended once Elizabeth had confessed the loss of her pregnancy. Kurt had flown to Chicago for a couple of days, so for now, Skye was left with the dog to give all her love and attention to. It was quite easy, with the dog's engaging personality and good-natured temperament.

Before they left for Europe, Elizabeth had told her that she had received a letter concerning the building's pet clause. Skye decided then and there that she would remedy the situation herself. She had gone to the coop board and requested a meeting with the chairman. She then stated that because her daughter in law owned two apartments, that she should be entitled to have a dog that weighed one hundred pounds. She then instructed Vixen to stand on the digital scale that she brought with her, and after a series of coaxing, the dog obeyed her command, wagging her tail and showing the chairman that she was just under fifty pounds.

She's a good girl, hardly barks, except to alert us when someone's at the door, Skye had pleaded her case, while smoothing the light fur on the dog's floppy ears. And you do understand that she's not a year yet, and may still grow in size. That won't be cause for concern will it?…

After five minutes with Skye, the chairman had apologized profusely for daring to hint that Vixen was unwelcome in the building, and to Skye's satisfaction, the matter was all settled.

She would have preferred that Elizabeth and Nicholas move into a more reputable neighborhood, and often offered to buy them an apartment somewhere more fashionable, like on Park Avenue, or a condo near Central park. But Nicholas wouldn't budge. And so they stayed where they were. Although the rapidly developing area near the waterfront was as respectable as Queens could be, the areas further inland reminded her of the seedier areas of Manhattan, where she, as a young girl fresh from Greenwich, was subjected to during her early modeling days. Skye had to admit, the views of Manhattan from this part of Queens were outstanding. She turned the dog around, and started working on her other side.

Elizabeth had warned her that it was shedding season, that Vixen's light summer undercoat would be renewing and regrowing itself for the colder months. The special high powered dog hair vacuum cleaner was a true wonder, and for the first time in her life, Skye found herself somewhat enjoying housework. It was actually fun, to swoop up all the fur from the floor and furniture. Of course doing this on a long term basis would never do. She wondered how Elizabeth managed to keep the place spotless with everything else she had going on. Work took up much of her time, and she was always at her computer, typing away, trying to stay ahead with her course work.

Skye got up and moved to the kitchen, where she grabbed a treat from a box in the cupboard. The dog followed her, wagging it's tail in anticipation. She smiled as she placed a piece in Vixen's mouth, watching as she chewed the crunchy snack. Skye's smile dropped as looked towards the plates and cups in the sink, knowing that she would either have to put them in the dishwasher, or worse, wash them manually. She looked down on her hands, and frowned at their dried appearance from having to use the harsh dish soap. For a girl who never liked to put things off, Elizabeth was taking far too long to hire help. She understood that Elizabeth was not quite comfortable with the idea of delegating tasks to servants.

During the past summer, Skye noted that she always looked guilty whenever the maid, who they hired especially for their boating excursion, would make the beds, clean the kitchen, serve them at dinner and did their laundry.

Skye reflected on the situation while she hesitantly picked up a clean sponge and turned the tap on. Elizabeth had certainly managed to fit herself into the Morrows' lifestyle, but sometimes, she still needed a bit of coaxing when it came to certain issues. Like making the most of out hired help. She had charmed all of Skye's friends, they all admired her beauty, her sense of duty, and although she had grown up with far less than them, was well accepted into their circle. She was never snobbish, never kowtowed to anything or anyone that went against her principles, and managed to find a place in the inner circle of Greenwich's society, that Skye had to admit, was sometimes inclusive and clannish as could be. She never demanded expensive clothes or jewelry from her husband. Most of all, they admired her intelligence. Skye adjusted the temperature of the water, and put more effort into scrubbing the grease off a frying pan, just thinking of how her manicurist would react on the sight of her now ruined fingernails. All Elizabeth needed was a small push in the right direction and Skye was about to give it to her.

Sometimes, she thought, as she put the pan down and started rinsing it…you had to take matters into your own hands...