REWRITTEN
It was still early when Auralia left Davis, Stein & Hartman Design. Knowing she was going to have a long bus ride ahead to Van Nuys, she stopped in a nearby McDonald's to grab an early lunch. She was eager to get all this crap over and done with as quickly as possible, so she needed to find out exactly where Night Sweat Pictures was located.
She couldn't resist smirking every time she thought of that name. 'Sounds more like a side effect of menopause than a place that makes porno.'
She didn't have much of an interest in pornos, but from what her friends subjected her to made her realize there was a definite lack of originality when it came to the movie and film companies names.
As she flipped through the phone book she borrowed from the cashier at McDonalds she remembered how her friends thought they were so badass when they got their hands on some pornos and started watching them. Auralia had to admit she was curious and the experience was definitely an eye opener. However, once she got over the initial, what she liked to call 'giggle factor' where you stupidly blush and giggle in embarrassment over something, she actually found them boring.
The movies really had no plot, the acting was horrible and the sex acts were rather repetitive. One of her friends called her stupid because no one watches pornos for the acting or stories. Auralia did have to agree, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she would rather be having the sex than watching it. Watching someone else get it on was really boring.
Thinking of her friends in Tucson reminded her how Jasmine used to sing 'buck a chicky bowm bowm' to emulate the cheesy music that seemed to be the standard for pornos. She did that whenever they were talking about anything related to sex or someone hooking up with someone else. Now that she remembered it, Auralia realized she couldn't get the damn melody out of her head. Annoyed she vowed when she got home to go 'buck a chicky bowm bowm' on Jasmine's ass for being responsible for that stupid earworm sticking in her head.
Once she found where Night Sweat Pictures was located she hopped on the bus confident she'd be there fairly quickly. However, it didn't take long to realize a chimp on crack must've designed the Los Angeles metropolitan area public transit system. She never had a problem following maps and knew it wasn't just human error on her part after the fifth time she got on the wrong bus. Seemed like she was ending up everywhere but where she wanted to be.
Eventually she got back on track after talking to one of the friendlier bus drivers and figured out which line she was supposed to be on. Worn out from the late afternoon heat, she was relieved when she finally made it to Night Sweat Pictures.
After the successful meeting with Spencer Davis that morning, she was confident things would just get easier. That sentiment quickly became the understatement of the year as she entered the nondescript warehouse.
Politeness wasn't the way to go with the receptionist. Honesty didn't work either. She wasted the better part of an hour arguing in circles to just see Lawrence Taylor for five minutes. The receptionist even threatened to call the cops, but Auralia called her bluff, telling her go ahead. She just had a feeling they wouldn't want a bunch of cops showing up outside in the parking lot.
The woman she mentally dubbed the 'puta from hell' just glared and repeated she couldn't see Mr. Taylor. Narrowing her eyes in frustration Auralia decided she was just going to have to somehow sneak in. She seriously doubted if she left a message that Taylor would bother calling her back. She just had to figure out how. Looking around she didn't see any bathrooms nearby, so her bladder was the perfect excuse.
Blowing out a harsh breath, Auralia snapped, "Fine. Can I schedule an appointment with Mr. Taylor?"
Smirking in triumph the receptionist imperiously stated, "I don't schedule his appointments. You'll have to call in the morning and see if the girl who maintains Mr. Taylor's schedule is available. She doesn't keep regular hours, you know."
Auralia knew that was complete and utter bullshit when she could clearly see a scheduling book open right in front of the floozy. Biting her tongue she faked a smile saying instead, "Well, thank you for your help, ma'am."
She mentally smirked at the glare the over-bleached blonde leveled at her. Earlier the woman very clearly told her not to call her 'ma'am.' Old ladies were ma'ams, not her. Of course, Auralia did not share that opinion since the woman wore enough make-up to make a drag queen either jealous or cringe away in horror. She didn't look younger, but her age was indiscernible under all that war paint. Auralia figured she was trying to preserve herself so her body would be discovered by some archaeological dig in the far future. The archaeologists and scholars would furiously debate on how any woman could breathe in such unflatteringly tight clothes, which accented all the wrong curves.
Before she turned to leave, Auralia asked if there was a restroom she could use.
The receptionist rolled her eyes in annoyance. "No public restroom."
Giving her a 'are you kidding' look, Auralia tried again. "Look, I'm not asking for access to your vaults, just to use the potty. It's not like there's a gas station or a McDonald's nearby."
"Sounds like a personal problem," the receptionist replied airily as she straightened up her desk. Seeing Auralia still standing there glaring, the woman smirks before adding, "If it's that bad you could just go in the alley behind the building. Just make sure the cops don't catch ya. The bums might even appreciate the show."
Fed up, Auralia walked out the door, figuring she'd try to see if maybe there was another door she could sneak in through. She wasn't betting on it, though. As she plotted outside, a UPS van pulled up. She idly watched the driver go inside. A couple of minutes later the receptionist followed the driver back out, panting and drooling after him like he was a bitch in heat. Arching a brow, Auralia realized the receptionist's entire world suddenly only consisted of brown as she fawned over the UPS guy as they accounted for the packages he was delivering.
Realizing this was her chance Auralia deftly slipped back inside and started walking down the hallway behind the receptionist's desk. She knew it was a stupid idea, but she didn't come this far for nothing.
Unfortunately today was not her day for finding her way around. She felt like a total idiot after ending up in the janitor's storeroom. Twice. Finally, she thought she was getting somewhere when she found the soundstage. She had no idea if Lawrence Taylor would be here, but judging by the whirlwind of activity going on, it'd be a lot easier to stay hidden until she could find him.
Obviously there was a movie being made. People scurried about moving things here and there or running some sort of errand. It was going to be hard finding Taylor amidst the sea of bodies, but she had time and knew what he looked like. She had plenty of time to study his photo, which towered obnoxiously behind the receptionist's desk. The challenge was to find him before she was kicked out by security.
Spotting an abandoned clipboard lying on top of some boxes nearby, she swept it up and started walking purposefully as if she were just another crewmember. The tactic seemed to work, as it didn't take long to spot her quarry.
Lawrence Taylor looked almost exactly like his portrait. Wavy, shoulder length, golden brown hair, light blue eyes and an even tan gave him the appearance of a stereotypical Californian. However, his physical stature was less imposing than his portrait, which seemed to be a good seven feet in height. Auralia knew she was average in height and judged he was maybe an inch or two taller than her. His picture must have been taken in the recent past, because even though his face looked the same, he had obviously gained some weight since it was taken.
As she approached he was addressing two 'actors' who were wearing only bathrobes. His booming, arrogant voice could be heard easily above the noise.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing? The name of the movie is 'A Roll in the Hay' not 'A Stroll in the Park.' It's porn, not a damn Harlequin romance novel!" He was gesturing between the two actors. "Screw romantic sensuality. I want primal animal lust. I want intensity. I want her eyes popping out of her head and her toes curling in ecstasy. You got me Donny? Good, because if you don't start getting it, it's back to grannies stuffing fives and tens down your Speedo's in Poughkeepsie!" Running a hand through his hair, he turned and stalked away muttering, "I need a drink" under his breath.
Falling in step beside him, Auralia jumped at her chance. "Mr. Taylor, can I talk to you?"
He stopped and looked her over. "You don't work for me. Do I even know you?"
"No, but I need to talk to you alone for a minute."
Lawrence's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Look, don't know who you are and really don't care. If you're looking for a part, we've cast all the roles. Plus, to get one you have to audition like everyone else. Union rules." Quirking a brow as he looks her over again he continues, "But I've gotta be honest, you're not the type I like to hire. I prefer the 'all American' look for the girls in my films. You're too short and heavier than I like. Though, you're curvaceous enough, light complexioned enough and could dye your hair, you're still not what I'm looking for. Your features are too ethnic. So if you could just leave or I'll call security." With that he started walking away again.
Auralia stood there stunned for a moment. She was blown away by the fact he thought she wanted to be in one of his sleazy films. As if. Regaining her senses she ignored the insult and hurried to catch up. "Mr. Taylor, I don't want a job. I just need a couple of minutes about something important."
Lawrence paused long enough to shrug. "Suit yourself. Get security in here! Now!"
A little freaked, Auralia suddenly thought of her friend Lizzie and a stunt she pulled once to get out of a tight spot. Going for broke, she channeled her inner blonde, as her blonde friend Penny liked to call it whenever they played dumb about something.
"Why don't you want to talk to me?" She wailed, pitching her voice high to get the most whine out of it while Lawrence gaped at her in shock. "You said age didn't matter! You said you didn't care about statutory laws! And I'm not even in art!" By now she had the attention of everyone in the vicinity. "You said I gave the best b.j. you ever had in your Mercedes, so how could you deny you're my baby daddy!"
Auralia was running out of things to say, but it was enough as Lawrence grabbed her arm and dragged her off. He was pissed and she was getting a little worried he might try something. She mentally readied herself for anything as he dragged her down another hallway to his office.
Shoving her inside he slams the door closed demanding, "Alright, who the hell are you and what do you want?"
Surprised he wasn't preparing for a beat down Auralia took a deep breath, deciding to keep things short and sweet. "I'm Auralia daughter of Amalia Acevedes. There's a chance you might be my biological dad and I need you to take a paternity test. "
Lawrence eyed her before moving to sit behind his desk. Auralia took the time to look around. The walls were plastered with adult movie posters or lined with bookcases and filing cabinets. Stacks of scripts, books and binders littered the small space surrounding the desk. Two guest chairs were positioned in front of it. Various knick-knacks, some in really poor taste, stuck out randomly among the mess. She finally settled into one of the guest chairs as he got comfortable.
"So you're learning the tricks of the trade?" At Auralia's blank look he rolled his eyes and snorted, "C'mon, you don't expect me to believe that as the kid of one of the best scam artists I've ever known you're not going to try to lay one down on me? She probably told you I'd be good pickings as your supposed father."
Auralia scowled before taking another deep, calming breath so she wouldn't go off on the idiot. "I'm not trying to lay a scam. My mom actually thought someone else was my dad. I went to see him this morning and there's no way he is. He said it's possible you or two other guys might be my dad."
Lawrence frowns in thought. "If not me, who the hell did she tell you was your father?"
"Spencer Davis."
Lawrence busted out laughing. "Oh I could've told you that! He's gayer than Liberace."
Auralia had no idea who the hell Liberace was, but decided not to ask.
"Alright, so who did dear ol' Spence name besides me to get the heat off his back?" He asked once he regained his composure.
"Mark and Steve Sloan."
"Those two boy scouts?" Lawrence asked incredulous, scrunching up his face in confusion. "Man, he must've been desperate to divert attention from himself. And you believed him?"
"Well, yeah." She admitted with a shrug.
"Sweetheart, you better learn fast not to believe everything you're told. Spencer the Fairy is just covering his own ass naming me as a candidate for your daddy. He proves it by naming the two golden boys of California. They're too pure," he mocked.
Auralia glared at him. "And how do you know for sure? 'Cause there ain't no way in hell you're gonna convince me you're still a virgin when you run a porno factory. Maybe Mr. Davis is lying, but I don't think so. I trust him better than you, anyway." Lawrence started opening his mouth, but she cut him off quickly. "Look, a paternity test can prove you're not. If you're so sure, then you're home free. So what do you care if you lose a little time out of your day and give up a little blood? It's not gonna kill ya."
Lawrence takes a few minutes to eye her shrewdly. "So, how much do you want?"
"What?" She was confused as to why he's suddenly talking about money.
"How much hush money do you want?" He demanded again.
"I don't want any money," she growled out.
"Uh huh, sure you don't. You only barge in here rambling about paternity tests." Leaning in closer he smirks condescendingly. "You're Amalia Acevedes' daughter. You want money. So how much."
Narrowing her eyes, Auralia struggled to keep her temper in check. "No, I don't. I just want to find out if you're my biological father. That's it."
"And hit me up for cash."
"Is your obnoxiousness hereditary or did you take a course in it?" She snapped.
"Years of practice, baby." Lawrence mocked as he leaned back in his chair.
Taking a really deep breath, Auralia counted to ten before trying again. "Look, I don't want money from you. I don't even want to ever hear from you again if, big if, you're my biological father." Seeing the skepticism in his eyes she adds, "If it's really that big a deal in taking a simple blood test, then maybe I should ask a lawyer to visit and talk to you about it."
Arching a brow Lawrence replied, "You sure play dirty like your mother."
"Only when my opponents fight dirty." She paused blowing out a harsh breath. "Look, are you going to take the damn test or not?"
"Which you want me to pay for, right?" He asked sarcastically.
Gritting her teeth, Auralia started praying not to snap and kill the moron. "I'm paying. After that, you can forget all about me. I don't exist to you; you don't exist to me. No strings attached. Simple, right?"
He stared at her, mulling it over before finally conceding. "Alright, fine. When do you want me to give a blood sample?"
"Don't know yet. Got to set it up and stuff. I'll have to call you later about it." She replied, relieved he wasn't fighting it anymore.
Reaching into the inner pocket of his sports coat Lawrence drew out a business card and handed it to her. "This is my personal business card with my private number on it. Call me when you've got it together. Now will you leave, or do I have to call security?"
"Nope. Don't have to," Auralia replied with a fake smile as she got up and left. A moment later she popped her head back in. "Um, how do I get out of here?"
Several minutes later she slouched down in her seat as the bus pulled away from the bus stop located a block down from Night Sweat Pictures. She now had a pounding headache and just wanted to go back to the motel and crash. Only one thought occupied her mind. 'Even soap operas aren't this twisted.'
A/N: Puta is Spanish slang in Mexico for whore or bitch and pretty much anything in that vein. Definitely not a nice thing to call a woman.
Updates will come slow for this story because I'm actually writing out a physical outline of the plot so I don't end up with a four year gap between postings ever again. O_o Chapter 2 is the exception, but after this I will be updating at least once a month, maybe twice, until I've got plenty set up to start updating more frequently. I have to honestly say I'm much happier with this version. It flows much better and isn't so stilted. I cringe at how I used to write, but I just couldn't junk this story and walk away. Now I can confidently say it will be finished. ^_^ Enjoy!