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Post by GIOVANNA on Dec 27, 2009 13:01:24 GMT -5
entry 501
Spago The Same Time
Shawn: Did you know who she was when you hired her?
Amber: I did a background check. But I usually run a tight ship where my inventory is concerned. I have a security camera and I caught her.
She sipped her iced tea.
Amber: You don't have a problem with my meeting Rick?
Shawn: No, why would I?
She shrugged.
Amber: He is my ex.
Shawn: No, he's a potential hire who happens to be your ex. Besides, your marriage has been over for a while.
Amber: True.
Shawn: Thinking about the reading of the will?
Amber: I'll go. I doubt if Dad left me anything. He had Nick in charge of the company for years.
Rick's House The Same Time
Rick sat on his couch, channel surfing. He thought about his lunch with Amber and her possible job offer.
Flashback, Hard Rock
Amber: So, Rick, how are things?
He laughed.
Rick: I took time off. I still am, actually.
Amber: I meant with you, personally.
Rick: I'm not seeing anyone. I need to clear my head first.
Amber: I see.
Rick: Ridge is such a jerk.
Amber raised an eyebrow.
Amber: What brought that on?
Rick exhaled.
Rick: Mom was engaged to Nick.
Amber: I knew that.
She stifled a smile, thinking that, if Brooke had stayed married to Nick, that would make her her sister-in-law. She didn't care if Ridge was her brother, she would never see him that way.
Rick: What?
Amber: Nothing.
Rick: Well, when Mom was engaged to Nick, Ridge decided he wanted her after all.
Amber: Jerk. I hope your mother told him to take a hike.
Rick: She did, but he didn't take no for an answer.
He coughed and looked away.
Rick: He stalked her and raped her when she was on pills.
Her eyes widened.
Amber: My God, Rick.
Rick: I know. I just found out. I confronted the scum, and he wasn't even sorry. He even claimed Dad knew.
Amber: And?
He laughed bitterly.
Rick: He knew. We got into an argument. To make a long story short, I asked Dad if he would back me when Ridge came back, like he usually does.
Amber: Meaning?
Rick: Meaning I don't want that predator hired back at FC in any capacity.
Amber: Good for you. It's about time someone stood up to him. After all, he raped Brooke, there's no telling what he''ll do with any of the models.
Rick: Well, Dad hemmed and hawed, and finally said that he couldn't back me if I barred Ridge. So I quit.
She reached for his hand.
Amber: I'm sorry. But for what it's worth, you did the right thing.
She sipped her diet coke.
Amber: He's probably scared of Stephanie.
Rick: I'm sure. But he should have backed me for business reasons.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Dec 28, 2009 19:42:12 GMT -5
entry 502
A Townhouse In Century City The Same Time
William Danforth sat in his study, a large room that was done in heavy colors. The furniture was heavy and imported from Italy. A bit oppressive for some people's tastes, but it made him think. He sipped his coffee as he went over the will for his late client, then picked up the latest codicil. Massimo had left his grandchildren trust funds of five million dollars each, and his children funds of three million apiece. As a good faith gesture to the mothers of his grandchildren, he had left Taylor Hayes a fund of two million, and the young girl, Jasmine, got a fund of the same amount. For Brooke Logan, the perennial bride and headliner, he had left a fund of four million. Normally William didn't question his clients, but he knew that Massimo and Ms. Logan had a prickly history. At first he chalked it up to Nick being the favorite, but Mass shook his head.
Flashback, Mass's Study
It was after he had discovered about Amber and RJ, and the two men were enjoying cigars and brandy.
Danforth: Mass?
Mass: Yes, William?
Danforth: Your will, about the three mothers of your grandchildren.
Mass: What about it?
Danforth: You mentioned that you found Taylor a far more suitable bride than Brooke.
Mass coughed.
Mass: I did.
Danforth: So why does she stand to inherit more than the other two?
Mass's face darkened.
Danforth: If I'm out of line-
Mass: No, you're not. I need to tell someone. I-did something to Ms. Logan that I am not proud of.
Danforth: Was it about the Paris plot?
Mass shook his head, then went to his desk.
Mass: I set about a chain of events that resulted in a violent crime. A crime in which the mother of two of my grandchildren was hurt badly. I have a DVD in which I admit to my part in it in graphic detail. I intend to leave it to Miss Logan to use as she sees fit. I don't think she will ever forgive my part in what happened, but the money should alleviate the pain.
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MissJr
Lounging on the Deck
Brooke IS the Bold & the Beautiful!
Posts: 14,065
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Post by MissJr on Dec 29, 2009 12:40:26 GMT -5
Gio, you have definitely been busy and I can finally get caught up.
Excellent writing as usual! There were quite a few surprises here. I'm shocked that ThomAss is so sick and twisted that he beat a girl badly enough for her to be hospitalized. And, of course, the whole thing was swept under the rug. Massimo's bequest to Brooke is another shock and I'm sure will not be enough to compensate for the violent crime he alluded to--especially since he won't be around to answer for it.
So Jasmine is a thief who stole from Amber, huh? I'm surprised that Massimo left her anything and I don't get his reasoning at all considering the circumstances.
I can't wait to see what's on that DVD!
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Post by GIOVANNA on Dec 29, 2009 13:10:18 GMT -5
Gio, you have definitely been busy and I can finally get caught up. Excellent writing as usual! There were quite a few surprises here. I'm shocked that ThomAss is so sick and twisted that he beat a girl badly enough for her to be hospitalized. And, of course, the whole thing was swept under the rug. Massimo's bequest to Brooke is another shock and I'm sure will not be enough to compensate for the violent crime he alluded to--especially since he won't be around to answer for it. So Jasmine is a thief who stole from Amber, huh? I'm surprised that Massimo left her anything and I don't get his reasoning at all considering the circumstances. I can't wait to see what's on that DVD! Thanks for your comments. Mass has been privy to more than people give him credit for. He knows about Jasmine and Ridge, so he wants his future grandchild to be provided for. And in his own way, he liked Sally.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 1, 2010 1:03:28 GMT -5
entry 503
Flashback, Spago
Amber: Maybe. So. How much of FC do you have?
Rick: Twenty percent. Budge sold me her shares.
Amber: I see.
Rick: By the way, I'm sorry about your mom.
Amber: Thanks for the flowers.
Rick: You're welcome.
Amber: Your mom sent me some as well. Speaking of Brooke, have you spoken to her lately?
Rick: She called me yesterday.
Amber: Can you keep a secret?
Rick: Sure.
Amber's face darkened.
Amber: When Mom passed on, she left me a note.
Rick: I see.
Amber: In this note, she told me who my father was.
Rick: Ok. Have you met him yet?
Amber: I met him, recently.
She coughed.
Amber: My father was Massimo Marone.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 16, 2010 14:46:46 GMT -5
entry 504
Heather's Office, The Reception Area The Next Morning, Nine A.M.
Heather entered the reception area, lost in thought. She walked over to the date book on the desk to double-check her appointments, and sure enough, the reading of Mass's will was in thirty minutes. She heard coughing and turned to see a young man sitting on the couch. Her face darkened as she took in the haughty expression and dark hair. She would know that stare anywhere.
Talk about the spitting image of his father.
Heather: Hello. What can I do for you?
Man: I'm Thomas Forrester.
Heather: Hello, Thomas. I'm representing your dad.
Thomas sneered.
Thomas: I thought Jonathon was. Who the hell are you?
Heather: My name is Heather Page.
Thomas laughed, an ugly laugh.
Thomas: You're a bit skinny for my dad. Has he banged you yet?
Jonathon entered and hung his coat up.
Jon: Hello, Thomas.
Thomas: Hello, Mr. Young. Why aren't you representing my dad?
Jon shrugged.
Jon: Cutting back on my caseload. But don't worry, Ms. Page is at the top of her game. She graduated from Stanford at the top of her class.
Thomas: I'm sure.
He stood up and slapped Heather's ass.
Thomas: I'd like a cappuccino. I hope the little lady knows how to make one.
Jon stared at him. Heather smiled tightly. When she spoke, her voice was pure ice.
Heather: Of course. Why don't you come into my office? I have a machine.
Heather's Office Two Minutes Later
Heather walked to her desk, Thomas followed her. She turned to him.
Heather: Sit.
He blinked, then did so. She pulled out a paddle and stared at him.
Heather: Do you know what this is, Thomas?
He shook his head.
Heather: It's a fraternity paddle my older brother gave me. Let's get a few things straight, when you're in my office, if you want coffee, you get it yourself. And keep your hands off my ass.
He laughed.
Thomas: Whoa, touchy. Can't take a joke?
Heather: Let me finish. I answer to your father, not to you. Your crap may work with the waitresses at Hooters, but I stopped doing tables years ago.
She waved the paddle.
Heather: The next time you order me around or refer to me as "The little lady," I will bend you over my knee and paddle you until you scream. Do we understand each other?
Thomas: You just threatened me.
Heather: Your word against mine. Now. What do you want?
Thomas: I understand my grandfather's will is going to be read. I want to make sure Dad's interests are taken care of.
Heather: No need. I know estate law.
Thomas: What's a pretty lady like you doing practicing law?
She shook her head.
Thomas: Any law against me attending the reading of the will?
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 21, 2010 20:33:53 GMT -5
entry 505
Heather's Office The Same Time
Heather: No, of course not.
Thomas smirked.
Thomas: I wonder how much the blustering blowhard left me.
Idiot, Heather thought. She made a mental note to charge Ridge even more, as she was really losing patience with his wretched family. First the old witch, now this arrogant bit of goods.
Heather: Counting your chickens before they're hatched?
He drew himself up.
Thomas: The old man doted on me.
Thomas: I'll drive.
Heather: No, thanks, I'll drive myself.
The Forrester Mansion, The Foyer Twelve-Thirty P.M.
Irina rubbed the back of her neck as she checked her watch. Ann was upstairs and would be expecting lunch pretty soon. She jumped when she heard the sound of tires screeching up the driveway. There was knocking, and she went to answer the door. Thomas pushed past her with a wild look in his eyes.
Thomas: God DAMN that whore. She ruins everything.
He snarled and picked up the vase on the table and threw it against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. Irina jumped back a few feet. Ann came halfway down the stairs, then stopped, her eyes widening.
Ann: Thomas.
Thomas: What?
Ann: I saw you throw that vase.
Thomas: So? Irina can clean-
Ann: No, she won't.
She turned to Irina.
Ann: Show Thomas where the broom and dustpan are so he can clean up his mess.
Irina looked at her.
Ann: He wants to make a mess, he can clean it up.
Thomas scowled.
Ann: You may take a break, Dear. I need to speak to Thomas.
Irina walked off.
Ann: What's the matter?
Thomas: That whore ruins everything.
Ann exhaled.
Ann: Who?
Thomas: Brooke, of course.
Ann: Brooke was your stepmother for years. And she is the mother of your cousin. As such, she deserves a little respect.
Thomas: Balls. That bitch stole my inheritance.
Ann: Indeed.
Thomas: The old bastard left HER four million dollars.
Ann: Ok.
Thomas: He only left my mother two million. That isn't just unfair, it's foul. My mother is a lady. And I didn't inherit anything.
Ann: I really find that hard to believe. Massimo adored your grandmother and father.
Thomas started to snivel.
Thomas: That tramp doesn't deserve squat. I deserve it all.
Ann sighed. She was really losing patience with Thomas.
Ann: As I recall, the estate is Massimo's to dispose of as he sees fit. It isn't yours. And just because you share DNA, it does not guarantee inheriting a piece of the pie.
Thomas: It's not fair.
Ann: Well, life is not always fair, Thomas.
He sat on the nearest chair and pouted.
Irina came in with a broom and dustpan, then walked off. She bit her lower lip as she tried to hide a smirk.
Ann: Thank you, Irina.
She turned to Thomas.
Ann: Now, clean that mess up. And I hope your allowance is enough to purchase another vase. Your grandmother put in her blood, sweat, and tears to make this house a castle. You don't need to be messing it up.
Thomas: I will not. Accidents happen.
Ann: That was no accident. I'm surprised that flying glass didn't hurt someone.
Thomas: It's Brooke's fault. She did this.
Ann: Brooke isn't here.
Thomas: Well, she made me angry. So my throwing the vase isn't my fault.
Ann: Clean it up before I call the police and report you for hiring a prostitute. The last time I checked, prostitution was illegal.
Thomas: Very well.
Ann: I was watching Oliver Twist and would ask you to join me, but it might hit a little close to home for you.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 22, 2010 0:11:43 GMT -5
entry 506
William's Office The Same Time
William sat at his desk, drumming his fingers as he waited for the other party to pick up. He had called the woman earlier, but was told that she was in a conference. He exhaled as he thought of the events of the morning.
Flashback The Conference Room
William looked around the table, taking in the participants. First off, there was Mark Baldwin, a young man who was representing Mass's daughter, Amber. Then Dominic was there, with his lawyer, Claire Talbot. Jackie and George were also there, and Ms. Page was there with a young man claiming to be Ridge's son.
William leaned back and read.
Danforth: I, Massimo Marone, being of sound mind and body, have decided to divide my estate as follows. To my widow, Jackie, I leave the townhouse in the city as well as the mansion in Napa Valley, plus my personal bank account. I also leave her five percent of Marone Industries. She also gets the business, JackieM, free and clear. To George Schmidt, my right hand man and friend, I leave the yacht as well as five percent of MI. To my son, Dominic, I leave the house in Rome as well as thirty percent of MI and an allowance of three million dollars.
He cleared his throat.
Thomas yawned. This is so boring, he thought. Where's my share.
Danforth: To my son Ridge, I leave a mansion in Bel Air as well as thirty percent of MI and an allowance of three million dollars.
Peanuts, Thomas thought.
Danforth: To my daughter, Amber, I leave a brownstone in New York, three million dollars, and thrity percent of MI. To Taylor Hayes Forrester, I leave two million dollars for her loyalty to Ridge. And her children, Thomas, Phoebe, and Stephanie receive a trust fund of five million dollars that they receive on their twenty-first birthdays, as well as their education to be taken care of. To Brooke Logan, I leave four million for restitution for a wrong that I committed. I also leave Ms. Logan a DVD for her to use as she sees fit.
Heather frowned. What was he talking about?
Danforth: I leave Robert John Marone and Jack Hamilton Marone a trust of five million each to be received upon their twenty-first birthdays as well as having their educational expenses covered.
Thomas narrowed his eyes. So, his mother got only two million and that bitch got FOUR? Why? What was the old man thinking? He HATED Brooke. He stood up in a fury.
Thomas: F*ck this.
Danforth looked at him.
Danforth: Excuse me?
Heather: Thomas, please sit down.
Thomas: This is bull-crap. Just why does Brooke get four million? For sexual services rendered?
Jackie looked down. Boy, his grandmother would be proud, she thought.
Heather coughed. Good God, this family was obsessed with sex!
Nick exhaled. Nephew or not, he was not going to let this slide. He rose.
Nick: Thomas?
Thomas: What?
Nick: Sit your spoiled ass down unless you want me to kick it to the curb.
George's eyes widened. Go, Nick, kick that punk's ass, he thought.
Thomas: Screw you, you just threatened me.
William turned beet red. Imagine, making dirty comments like that in front of adults.
Danforth: I suggest you listen to your uncle, boy. Sit down.
Thomas: I will not, you old buzzard.
Heather rose.
Heather: Thomas, for God's sake, sit down.
Thomas: I will not. You do something, you bony-assed bimbo. Stanford law, indeed. I got railroaded.
Danforth: Young man, you have a blank check where your college is concerned. And you stand to inherit five million when you turn twenty-one. Most young men of your age would be thrilled to be your definition of railroaded.
Thomas: Big f*cking deal. I want more.
Danforth rose.
Danforth: You have five seconds to sit your butt in that chair before I have my receptionist escort you to the nursery with all the other children.
Thomas stared at him.
Danforth: The reading of the will is not over. Sit.
He pointed for emphasis. Thomas exhaled and sat. Danforth sat down and continued.
Danforth: As for MI, if any of the principles plead guilty to or are convicted of a crime where prison time is possible, then said person forfeits their shares in the company.
Heather cleared her throat.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 23, 2010 13:12:00 GMT -5
entry 507
Flashback
Heather: Mr. Danforth.
Danforth: Yes?
Heather: I know you and I had this conversation earlier, but if my client pleads out to an offense requiring prison time, would violating a restraining order qualify as such an offense? I just want to be clear on this issue.
Danforth: Yes, it would. His shares would automatically revert to Dominic Marone and Amber Moore.
Thomas blinked. Amber Moore? Why would she inherit?
He recalled the words, "To my daughter, Amber."
The trailer park tramp his aunt? No f&cking way!
He stood up.
Thomas: Come again?
Danforth: Ms. Page, please control your client's son.
Thomas: Screw you.
William's eyes widen.
Danforth: Young man, if I have to tie you into that chair and put duct tape on your mouth, please let me know.
Thomas: Is Amber Moore Massimo's daughter? How in the name of God is THAT possible?
Mark cleared his throat.
Mark: Ms. Moore is indeed the daughter of Massimo Marone and Tawney Moore. Ms. Moore left her daughter a letter.
Thomas: Yeah, the word of a trashy grifter.
William rose.
Danforth: Not only did the woman leave a letter, but two tests were run, by the best two labs on the west coast.
Thomas: Balls. Those tests can be compromised.
Danforth: Yes, well, you would know. At least your father would, anyway.
Thomas: I don't know what you are talking about.
Danforth: RJ Forrester, or, as he is called these days, Robert John Marone. Your uncle told me all about it.
Thomas turned to Nick in a fury.
Thomas: You bastard, how DARE you air my family's dirty laundry.
Nick rose.
Danforth: Young man, you are trying my patience. Sit down.
Thomas scowled and sat down. Danforth followed suit.
Danforth: In answer to Ms. Page's question, Ridge Forrester does not inherit any of the shares of Marone Industries as a result of pleading guilty to violating the restraining order. And there is a clause that states that, under no conditions, can he buy any shares.
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Post by lalogan on Jan 23, 2010 17:29:36 GMT -5
Thomas is a punk-ass bitch like his stupid father. Forget telling him to sit down, someone should have taken that brat over their knee and smacked his spoiled ass until he couldn't sit down for a month.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 24, 2010 2:45:45 GMT -5
entry 508
Flashback
Thomas: Unf*cking believable. So my dad gets-
William slammed down his pad and glared at Thomas.
Danforth: That's it. I've heard that ugly word more times today than I care to think about.
He rose and grabbed Thomas by the arm, jerking him up.
Danforth: I will be back in ten. Everyone stay seated.
The Men's Room
William shoved Thomas against the wall.
Danforth: Don't even think of moving an inch.
He grabbed a bar of soap, pried Thomas's mouth open, and shoved it in.
Danforth: Now chew until I say when.
Thomas scowled and chewed, then grimaced.
Danforth: When.
Thomas stopped and spit it out, then opened his mouth.
Danforth: One more cuss word from that gutter you call a mouth, and back the soap goes.
Thomas blinked back tears.
Thomas: I hate you.
William laughed, an ugly laugh.
Danforth: Like the opinion of a potty-mouthed brat of entitlement means squat to me. You should be ashamed of yourself, disrespecting a lady and your late grandfather in the same breath.
Thomas sneered.
Thomas: Brooke Logan is no lady. She sells lingerie, for God's sake.
Danforth: Considering how freely you and certain family members spent the income she generated for your company, you have no business harping about the way she raised said income. Now march. I am taking you to the file room and locking you there until the reading of the will is over.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 24, 2010 3:20:27 GMT -5
entry 509
Marone Industries, Nick's Office One O'Clock P.M.
Nick leaned back in his chair, then rubbed his neck. He was tired and the reading of the will had given him a headache. Plus he was disgusted with Thomas. What kind of punk did Ridge raise, anyway?
There was knocking.
Nick: Come in.
Claire entered. She was an attractive blond with dark glasses. He looked her over.
Claire: Well, you have an interesting family.
Nick shook his head.
Nick: Ridge isn't my family. There's too much bad blood.
Claire: Well, after today, he's one less problem. He kissed his shares in the company good-bye when he violated a restraining order.
Nick: Good. I don't want him setting foot in this building again.
Claire: He probably won't.
Nick: Don't be too sure. Since he's out at Forrester, he's probably looking for another company to take over.
Claire sat down.
Claire: You could file an injunction barring him from the building.
Nick: Do it.
Claire: Ok.
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Post by lalogan on Jan 24, 2010 22:04:51 GMT -5
Hehe...this is great. You said earlier that you originally thought of Heather as looking like Stephanie March, but then decided to make her brunette and look more like Angie Harmon. Does Claire look like Stephanie March? I like the idea of "Abbie Carmichael" and "Alex Cabot" being in the same fic, even if they're working on opposite sides.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 25, 2010 3:18:16 GMT -5
Hehe...this is great. You said earlier that you originally thought of Heather as looking like Stephanie March, but then decided to make her brunette and look more like Angie Harmon. Does Claire look like Stephanie March? I like the idea of "Abbie Carmichael" and "Alex Cabot" being in the same fic, even if they're working on opposite sides. Thanks for your comments. Claire does indeed look like Alex Cabot. I am a big fan of L&O, and I adore Abbie Carmichael. I like Alex okay, and Claire is going to be a good ally for Nick.
As for William, I see Powers Boothe.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Jan 25, 2010 20:44:52 GMT -5
entry 510
Forrester Creations, The Showroom One O'Clock P.M.
Ann entered with her two great granddaughters and looked around. She had taken care with her appearance, as she was attending a showing. She wore a white silk blouse with a light blue suit, picked out by Felicia. Ann smiled, as she was so proud of her granddaughter. Felicia had developed a new line with her new young man, Deacon. Ann had dinner with them recently, and he was a handsome young man, if a bit rough around the edges. And he adored Felicia, which suited Ann just fine, as she wanted her granddaughter to be treated well. Plus the job of raising Dante and working was daunting, in her opinion. She knew she sounded old-fashioned, but she believed that parenting was a two-parent job.
Ally pulled on her hand, and Ann smiled indulgently.
Ally: I can't believe Daddy let me miss school.
Ann: Well, remember to do your homework tomorrow.
Ally giggled.
Ally: I will. I'm excited.
Ann: You should be, you two girls are very lucky.
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Post by lalogan on Jan 30, 2010 23:29:57 GMT -5
Hehe...this is great. You said earlier that you originally thought of Heather as looking like Stephanie March, but then decided to make her brunette and look more like Angie Harmon. Does Claire look like Stephanie March? I like the idea of "Abbie Carmichael" and "Alex Cabot" being in the same fic, even if they're working on opposite sides. Thanks for your comments. Claire does indeed look like Alex Cabot. I am a big fan of L&O, and I adore Abbie Carmichael. I like Alex okay, and Claire is going to be a good ally for Nick.
As for William, I see Powers Boothe.
I'm more of a fan of SVU than the original L&O -- I adore Alex Cabot but I liked Abbie Carmichael on the original L&O too. Angie Harmon guest-starred on a couple of first-season episodes of SVU as Abbie. Abbie was smart and a bit prickly; Alex was smart and icy. I wish they could've done some crossover episodes together.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 2, 2010 0:14:06 GMT -5
entry 511
Forrester Creations, The Showroom The Same Time
Ann sat at the table with her name on it and gestured for her two charges to do the same thing. People were starting to fill in. She noticed Felicia, looking gorgeous and happy, laughing and talking to a handsome young man with a notepad and a tall, blond man with the bluest eyes. Her granddaughter was wearing a black silk dress that showed off her wasp waist, a black leather jacket, ruby earrings, and black stiletto heels. Ann waved at her, and Felicia smiled, then excused herself from her two admirers to walk over.
Ann: Hello, Dear.
Felicia: Grandmother. I'm thrilled you could make it.
Ann smiled politely.
Ann: I wouldn't miss it, Dear. After all, since I missed all those years seeing you grow up, the least I could do was be here for the debut of your new line.
Plus it's preferable to staying at home and listening to Thomas whine and bitch about Brooke, she thought. The more she talked to him, the more she was convinced that he was too far gone. Dean Carmichael had fed-exed her a package. She hadn't opened it yet, but she knew it had to do with Thomas's assault of that young lady. Well, she'd deal with it later, as she wanted to relax and fuss over Thorne and Felicia today.
Felicia laughed, then turned to her two nieces.
Felicia: Ally, Hope.
Ally giggled and whispered something to Hope.
Hope: Hi, Aunt Felicia.
Felicia: Hello. Are you two excited?
Hope: My mommy's doing her line today, but she thought I should spend time with Daddy.
Felicia: She is, is she? This place feels different without your mother. How is she?
Hope: Fine. She likes working with Grandma Jackie.
Felicia laughed.
Felicia: Well, I'll see you girls later. I have to set some stuff up.
She walked off. A few minutes later, the lights dimmed.
Thirty Minutes Later
Ann sipped her tea. So this is what a showing is like, she thought. John would be so proud of his grandchildren, as Thorne and Felicia had put together a winner. The gowns were gorgeous, with a French twist to them, although Ann could not picture herself getting that dressed up. And the men's line made her smile, as that was how men should dress, in her opinion.
The room got dark, then a spotlight came on. Felicia walked out and smiled.
The audience clapped.
Felicia: Hello, members of the press, and welcome. Thank you for coming, and now, for our final line, is a little something I thought up for your ladies.
The room darkened, and the stage lit up as a hush fell over the room.
Felicia: My new line, Casanova.
She walked to the nearest table and sat down, and the music started. As if on cue, Deacon entered, a vision of raw male sexuality in black leather pants and red leather jacket. He smiled, and sauntered down the runway, removing the jacket to reveal a white silk t-shirt that showed off his muscles.
"I ain't much on Casanova
me and Romeo ain't never been friends. Can't you see how much I really love you? Gonna sing it to you time and time again. Oh Casanova Casanova."
He turned his back and let the audience get a good look at his ass and back, then sauntered back.
"Every man deserves a good woman and I want you to be my wife. Time is so much better spent with you baby."
Deacon smiled to himself, enjoying the effect he was having on the ladies. He gave Jarred his trademark devilish grin, then sauntered back.
"a woman just like you in my life. So let me love you fill you up inside."
He made eye contact with a few ladies, then moved on, making love to them with his eyes. A well-dressed woman in her forties blushed and looked away as he gifted her with his gaze.
Work it, Deke!
"I want to hold you baby
So let me squeeze you
don't you know that I'll get down on my knees for you baby?"
After he had seduced at least five ladies with his bedroom eyes, he settled his baby blues on his lady in leather, Felicia.
"You see: I ain't much on Casanova
me and Romeo ain't never been friends. . . ."
He sauntered down to the table where she was, and she blushed on cue. Not missing a beat, he got on one knee, removed little velvet box from his pocket, and opened it, revealing a ring with a black diamond, which he then slipped on her finger. Felicia expressed surprise, and put her hand on her chest. The lights went black.
"Oh Casanova Casanova.
Every time I want to see you
I can't find the words to tell you so. I love i love I love I love I love you baby."
The spotlight went on the stage, showing a large Harley, which Deacon mounted, and Felicia followed suit.
"And I just got to let you know how much I need you
Show you what you mean to me each day baby."
The sound of applause drowned out the song.
"So let me hold you keeping you safe and warm
I'll be your sweatheart baby.
And when I told you: Girl I'm an average guy
You seem to know just how I really feel. 'Cause I can't let you go
I need and want you to stay right here with me. Baby I never knew love until you came along.
Oh Casanova tell me what to say Casanova"
The lights went out, then went back on, as Felicia and Deacon joined hands and took a bow. Several members of the press got up and clapped.
LeVert. "Casanova," The Big Throwdown. Atlantic. 1987.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 2, 2010 0:53:57 GMT -5
entry 512
Jackie M's, The Showroom The Same Time
Brooke, Giovanni, and Jackie sat around the table, going over the proofs of the showing and deciding which ones to use for the latest addition of In Style, Marie-Claire, and Glamour. The showing had been that morning, and the press buzz was good. Brooke smiled as she thought about her line and modeling it.
Flashback, The Showroom
Jackie's Voice: And now, for the line you've been waiting for, Brooke's Bedroom, which needs no introduction, but gets one, anyway. Named after the dynamic and charming lady behind the line, Brooke Logan, this line is at least a decade old, but it is still considered one of the finest lingerie lines in fashion today. And modeling the renaissance piece is the line's creator, who proves that women are like wine, they don't get older, only better.
There was applause.
Jackie's Voice: This piece is made of Thai silk, perhaps the finest silk in the world. Beige without being drab, with green ribbons to reflect concern for the environment, and the same ribbons being made with a substitute for cotton to conserve our resources.
As Brooke sauntered down the runway, she felt a rush, that she had created this line not only for herself, but for any woman who wanted to reward herself with the best, even if it was only an article of clothing. Thank God for her baby, plus the fact that she was surrounded by people who supported her and her vision and didn't sneer or judge her, claiming that she was using it as an excuse to chase after some jerk who would never put her first.
I'm so lucky to have been given a second chance, she thought. She shut her eyes and said a prayer of thanks.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 2, 2010 2:08:45 GMT -5
entry 513
Adam's Office The Same Time
Adam sat at his desk, watching the press on FC's showing, plus Jackie's line. He smiled wryly as he thought of the way Brooke had bounced back, and bounced back with a vengeance. The press was referring to her and Jackie as "Renaissance ladies" who proved that a woman could indeed make it without a man. Not that he was a chauvinist, but when Brooke was married to or involved with Ridge, she acted like a trophy wife and the press treated her accordingly. Now they were praising her chutzpah at modeling her line and claiming that, at the age of forty-five, she had the appearance and figure of a twenty-year-old. And her children's line looked like a winner. They were also calling Jackie the "Gorgeous merry widow" and speculating which man would be lucky enough to marry the now-wealthy Brit.
FC seemed to be surviving, what with Felicia's new line. The press was having a field day with Deacon and his modeling Casanova. Some were even speculating that he was going to take over the position as the male heartthrob of FC thus eclipsing Ridge.
CJ barged in without knocking.
CJ: Adam, I hate to bother you, but you need to come down to Ridge's office.
Adam looked at him curiously. Ridge had been in conference with his lawyer for the past hour.
CJ: It's getting out of hand in there. If someone doesn't do something, the press will get ahold of this.
Adam rose in irritation.
The Hallway Five Minutes Later
Adam stalked towards Ridge's office, CJ trailing him. The door was shut, but he heard his head designer making noise. He threw the door open, half expecting to see the aging designer banging his lawyer on his desk. Instead, he saw Ridge, kneeling down, holding his nuts. His lawyer, a no-nonsense brunette woman with cheekbones that could cut glass, stood, leaning against the wall, an irritated look on her face. Ridge looked up and gasped.
CJ looked at Ridge and shook his head. This was what Bridgette dumped him for.
Ridge: Adam. Thank God you're here. This bitch attacked me.
Heather: Bull. You asked for it.
Ridge: I want her arrested.
Adam sighed, then noticed Ridge had a black eye.
Adam: What's going on?
Ridge stood up, then fell back.
Ridge: I told you, she attacked me.
Heather shook her head.
Adam: Well?
Heather: He lost it and threw my papers across the room. Then he lunged at me.
Ridge: She pulled a gun on me.
Heather: I pistol-whipped him, but he kept moving towards me, so I kicked him in the family pebbles.
Ridge glared at her.
Ridge: Bitch. You'll never know.
Adam: Is this true?
Ridge: She screwed me over. I have nothing from my father, thanks to her.
Heather scoffed.
Heather: I was going over the will.
Ridge: I was disinherited.
Heather: He was not. He gets a mansion in Bel Air and three million dollars. But apparently he wants more.
Adam: Three million dollars and a mansion isn't enough?
Ridge: Peanuts. As Mass's favorite, I deserve the Marone empire. Instead, that tramp from the desert and Popeye get it all.
Heather exhaled.
Heather: There was a clause in the will saying that, if any of the principles who inherit Marone Industries plead guilty to or are convicted of a crime where prison time is possible, they automatically forfeit their shares of the company. Your designer plead guilty to violating a restraining order, which means possible prison time, so he gets no shares in the company.
Ridge: Your fault. Had we gone to trial-
Heather: You would have been convicted. The DA had the statement from your grandmother as well as Brooke and the maid.
Ridge glared at her. These bitches were pissing him off. First Brooke ruins him, then his grandmother throws him to the wolves. Now he had this Texas ball-breaker giving him crap legal advice.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 2, 2010 2:38:22 GMT -5
entry 514
The Lobby at Spectra Twenty Minutes Later
Heather exited the elevator, thoroughly pissed off. After her conference with the stupidest man in LA, Adam had apologized, paid her her fee, and escorted her out. At first she didn't take it, but he assured her that Ridge would reimburse him. She shook her head, wondering why a real man like Adam would put up with a punk like Ridge. Had he been her employee, she would have kicked his ass out herself. When she checked her messages, Jon had told her that an Ann Douglas had called her to discuss the inheritance of her great-grandson Thomas Forrester. She shook her head, deciding that she had had enough from that ugly family for the day. Since she had served her client well and put in a full day, she decided to treat herself to Starbucks.
Female Voice: Ms. Page?
Heather: What?
She heard the anger in her voice and winced as she turned to see a young blond woman with glasses. The other woman smiled slightly.
Woman: Well, excuse me. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
Heather: Yes.
The woman extended her hand.
Woman: Claire Talbot. Nick Marone's lawyer.
Heather: Oh, yeah, you were there for the reading of the will.
Claire: Yes.
Heather: Sorry for snapping at you. I had a bad morning.
Claire: I'm sure. You're representing Ridge Forrester, right?
Heather: Yep. Want to trade clients?
Claire: Not if your client is anything like his son.
Heather: He's worse.
Claire: Sorry to hear that. I have an injunction for him.
Heather: His office is upstairs. I was just meeting with him.
Claire: Want me to do the honors?
Heather: Please. I can't take any more of him today.
Claire: Actually, I will. Oh, here's something for you.
She handed her a copy of Eye on Fashion. Heather read the headline and felt her blood pressure shoot through the roof.
Lawyer in Love?
Young attorney Heather Page proves that brains and beauty are not mutually exclusive with her handling of a violation of a restraining order by the felon of fashion, Ridge Forrester. With her fancy legal prowess, the gorgeous former sweetheart of Phi Kappa kept the stylized stalker out of prison.
Bull.
Will the graying designer show the hotshot legal eagle his gratitude by making her his latest conquest and bride?
Heather threw the offending rag against the wall.
Heather: S&it!
Claire: Hey, take it easy.
Heather: Misogynistic drivel. A woman lawyer has a male client and these jerks assume she's in bed with him. I'll bet Connor Davis doesn't get this kind of speculation in the press.
Claire: Look on the bright side, you're a celebrity now. And this is great advertising for your firm. Plus they don't say anything bad about you. It's kind of a fluff piece.
Heather scoffed.
Heather: Ridge Forrester is a moneyed piece of trash. The idea of him gracing MY bed makes my skin crawl. Brooke Logan has my deepest sympathies for having that albatross for as long as she did.
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Post by lalogan on Feb 2, 2010 3:19:44 GMT -5
Such a good read...frankly, if I was Heather, I'd have taken that gun and SHOT him in his puny little nuts. He deserves it, and as a side benefit, he wouldn't be able to sire any more demon spawn like ThomAss and Stuffy.
Widge is such a disgusting creep. He got way more than he deserved from Sperm Daddy's will. And poor Heather...the rag actually linked her romantically with that fugly, skanky creep? She can barely stand to be in the same room with him, and who could blame her? Widge thinks he's just the sexiest man alive, but he's anything but. He's a scrawny, ugly creep who looks like he stinks to high heaven.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 4, 2010 3:15:32 GMT -5
Such a good read...frankly, if I was Heather, I'd have taken that gun and SHOT him in his puny little nuts. He deserves it, and as a side benefit, he wouldn't be able to sire any more demon spawn like ThomAss and Stuffy.Widge is such a disgusting creep. He got way more than he deserved from Sperm Daddy's will. And poor Heather...the rag actually linked her romantically with that fugly, skanky creep? She can barely stand to be in the same room with him, and who could blame her? Widge thinks he's just the sexiest man alive, but he's anything but. He's a scrawny, ugly creep who looks like he stinks to high heaven. Thanks for your comments. It is disgusting the way Ridge is allowed to populate the show with his brats-as if the show needs any more creeps with his DNA. Meanwhile, Thorne only has one child and Rick doesn't have any. The way this show is written, Thomas will be a father, and then Ridge will be a new father as well-in spite of being old enough to have grandchildren.
Poor Heather is right. I enjoy writing for her. She's Ridge's lawyer and she actually feels sorry for his victims.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 4, 2010 3:55:37 GMT -5
entry 515
Ridge's Office The Same Time
Ridge sat at his desk, sulking. His nuts were killing him, plus he was furious that Adam didn't back him. After he had escorted the ice queen out, he had returned to lecture him about hitting women and the possibility of facing charges. He tuned him out.
There was knocking.
Ridge: What?
A young blond woman with glasses entered. She smiled politely.
Woman: Ridge Forrester?
Ridge: Who the hell are you?
Woman: Claire Talbot. I'm representing your brother, Nick Marone.
Ridge: Half-brother.
He spit the words "half brother" out if they were poison.
Claire: Half-brother?
Ridge: That's right.
Claire: Pardon me for being blunt, Mr. Forrester, but aren't all your siblings half siblings due to the way your mother was so generous with her favors back in the day?
He glared at her.
Ridge: F&ck you.
Claire: You wish. But we need to talk business.
She handed him a piece of paper. He took it and scowled.
Claire: It's an injunction barring you from Marone Industries.
Ridge: You and whose army, Toots?
Claire: Your brother had me file it.
Ridge: You don't screen your clients very carefully, do you?
Claire: Not that it's your business, but I have a minor in international business, with a concentration in shipping. Mr. Marone gave me an opportunity to study shipping firsthand. It's quite interesting.
Ridge: My sleazy half-brother cheated on his wife. He screwed her daughter. That should tell you what kind of scum you're dealing with.
Claire: Tread carefully. Nick Marone is more than my main client, he is also a friend.
Ridge: So?
Claire: Where I'm from, one does not sit by idly when one's friends are trashed. Tell me, Mr. Forrester, do you have any friends?
He glared at her haughtily.
Ridge: No men like me because they're jealous. I'm the type of guy women can't get over.
Claire scoffed.
Claire: Pity.
He tossed the paper back at her.
Ridge: You take this back to that bastard and tell him I'm onto him.
Claire: Oh?
Ridge: Yes, oh. Logan picked me over him, and that burns his ass. So he's screwing me out of MY legacy.
Claire: Logan?
Ridge: Brooke. It's my nickname for her.
Claire: You have a nickname for your rape victim? How precious.
He narrowed his eyes.
Ridge: I'm not a rapist. I've never had to force a woman in my life.
Claire: That's what they all say. I suppose you're not a mama's boy, either.
Ridge: Popeye been telling you stories, eh? Well, you tell him that Logan will always love me and not him.
Claire: Really? So why did she chose reuniting Nick with their son over a marriage to you?
He stood up in a fury.
Ridge: Bitch.
She shrugged.
Claire: Well, I'm leaving. Our business here is done.
Ridge: And you tell Popeye that I WILL get my legacy. See, let me explain something to you, Toots. I may be down, but I always win in the end. And do you know why? It's a matter of class and character.
Claire: The janitor at Marone Industries has more clout than you. And as for class, how much class does it take to screw every model that passes through your doors?
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 10, 2010 3:01:23 GMT -5
entry 516
An Apartment in Century City Two O'Clock P.M.
Abby Vasquez sat at the dining room table in her sister Connie's apartment. She was a pretty girl of twenty with thick, black hair and coal black eyes. Since she had been in Los Angeles for a month, she had moved in with her sister, an accounting clerk for the city of Los Angeles. Although she was doing her part by paying rent, she wanted to move out, but her job at the clothing store wasn't paying enough. She needed something else and she needed it soon.
Even though she was only twenty, Abby knew she had a gift for designing clothing. She had an eye for what colors looked good together and she knew how women thought when they went shopping. She had gotten straight A's in art at her high school and a full scholarship to the design institute. It was there that she had met Thomas Forrester. Tall, arrogant, cruel, and rich. And he was also the grandson of one of the most influential men in the industry. He was in her marketing class and had quite the reputation. Her teacher warned her not to get involved with him, as he was trouble. There were rumors that he had screwed a fellow student and attacked her. When the young woman talked to someone in charge, rumor had it that she had to leave and that his grandmother had paid the school off. After two months of his staring at her and hounding her, she let him take her out. After all, she was a smart girl with an IQ of a hundred and sixty, plus her smarts and vision had gotten her a scholarship, and who was he? Some spoiled-ass rich kid, and if he tried anything, she would kick him in the balls.
Big mistake.
Abby shuddered at the memory of that night.
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Post by GIOVANNA on Feb 10, 2010 3:19:25 GMT -5
entry 517
Forrester Creations, Felicia's Office The Same Time
Felicia leaned back in her chair and smiled, a smile of pure satisfaction. She had done it. She had actually done it, and she felt great. Her line was a hit. She clicked on the TV and watched the press release for the fifth time.
Jarred: Well, the gorgeous, ballsy, and brainy Felicia Forrester proved that, while she may be the black sheep of the Forrester clan, she is no slouch when it comes to designing. With her new line, Casanova, the daring rebel proved that less is more. The line was simply but elegantly designed using the best Thai silk and modeled by Ms. Forrester's dashing beau, the devilish Deacon Sharpe, who is also the brains behind Get Sharpe Hotels. With his bedroom eyes, swagger, and devilish grin, Mr. Sharpe made love to the camera and also snared the rising star of Forrester Creations. After making every woman in the room fall in love with him, Mr. Sharpe broke a few hearts with his very public proposal to the lovely Flea.
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