Hooray for Hollyweird

 A porn producer. My sister had been dating a porn producer. This was a new low, even for Felicity.

“She hasn’t,” I began. “I mean, she hasn’t been working for him, has she?”

Syn and Mel both looked uncomfortable, but Syn shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Like I said, they’ve been sort of dating, but Felicity’s not into that sort of thing.”

“Small favors,” I muttered.

“So, are we done here?” Mel asked. “I mean, sorry and all, Francie, but I’ve still gotta clock another couple of hours.”

“Yeah, Mel, thanks.” I shook her hand and turned to leave with Syn. “You’ll call us if you see her again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Syn and I made our way back to her old VW beetle and began the long slog through LA, back to Venice.

“Why didn’t you tell me Rob Bennet is a porn producer?” I asked, staring glumly out the window.

“Honestly, Francie? I didn’t want to mention that unless I had to.”

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“Well, his office is at Vivid. But I don’t know that you want to go there.”

“If he knows where Felicity is, I have to talk to him.” I couldn’t believe that I was having this conversation - that I was actually considering confronting a porn king. I had seen Larry Flynt once at a restaurant in Beverly Hills when I was visiting Felicity during one of her more flush times. It felt creepy just being in the same dining room. I didn’t much feel like talking to someone like him.

“Francie, I don’t think that such a good idea,” Syn insisted,  and I could hear the concern in her voice.

“It’s a terrible idea,” I acknowledged. But it’s the only idea I have at the moment. You don’t need to go with me.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not sending the Vestal Virgin into the lion’s den alone!”

“I’m not—“

“You know what I mean. You’re not used to scumbags like him. I’ll go with you, but not tonight.”

“But—“

“Look, Francie, it’s getting late. Rob’s probably not even at the office anymore. He likes to party and he’s not the type to let work get in the way of a good time.” Syn shrugged. “Unless, of course, work is that good time.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said.

“So’s he. And tomorrow is soon enough for us to be disgusted by Rob Bennet. Let’s just go home, grab a bite and relax.”

I passed a pretty restless night in Felicity’s room that night. So many times since our mother had died, I wished that she could see all that I had accomplished. Now, all I could think of was how hurt and disappointed she would be if she could see how far Felicity had fallen. For the first time since her death, I nearly wished she weren’t watching over us. Nevertheless, as I finally nodded off just before dawn, I sent a quick prayer to my mother to keep Felicity safe, and to forgive her, as I was trying to find the strength to do (if, of course, I didn’t kill her first).

The next morning, I struggled to eat some breakfast, and I forced a somewhat reluctant Syn out the door as soon as I thought Rob Bennet would be at his office. I was glad she was coming with me. Not only did I need the moral support, but I also had no idea how to get there. In the handful of times I had been to LA, I had never managed to master the intricacies of the freeway system. As we wound through the streets, I thought (based on my Siri directions) that we’d be hopping on the 10 to get to the 405 to the 101. But Syn just laughed at that idea, muttered the word, “traffic,” and began to follow the most convoluted network of streets I think I’d ever seen. Despite my elevated stress levels, I chuckled a bit at the thought that I’d somehow stumbled into an episode of Saturday Night Live’s “The Californians.”

When we pulled up to the office building on Cahuenga Blvd, I was a little surprised. I’m not sure what I expected a porn headquarters to look like, but this sedate office park was not it. Syn noticed my quizzical expression and smiled. “Looks pretty legit, doesn’t it?” she asked. “No outward signs of depravity.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, I know it’s a business and all, but—“

“But it still makes your skin crawl.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well, let’s get in and out fast,” Syn remarked.

“Wonder if that’s the corporate motto?” I couldn’t help myself. The comment just escaped. But, it had the effect of setting us both off into a spurt of genuine laughter that relieved some of the tension.

As we entered the building, I thought at first that we would be denied entry.  When we were ushered into Rob Bennet’s front office right away, I figured it was because of Syn’s looks. When the assistant buzzed Rob and said, “Ms. Fellowes is here to see you,” it didn’t register that we had not given our names.  Rob came out of a back room, and I was surprised that he did not look nearly as sleazy as I thought he would. I had high hopes he would be a helpful ally in finding Felicity.

Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed the moment he said, “So, Felicty, you changed your mind after all? And you talked the roommate into it too? Excellent.”

“You’re a pig, Rob,” Syn muttered.

“So, what, then, Syn? You just here as a groupie? By the way, Felicity, you clean up good.”

“I’m not Felicity,” I said, struggling to maintain my cool. “My name is Frances Fellowes, I’m Felicity’s sister. I’m looking for her and I hoped you could help.”

Rob sat down at his desk and grinned. “Felicity never mentioned she had a sister. Twins?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a lot of money in twins, you know.”

Outraged, I opened my mouth to tell Rob Bennet exactly what I thought of him, but Syn put a hand on my arm, and I held back.

“Do you know where Felicity is or not, Rob?” Syn asked.

“No clue. Haven’t seen her since that party in the Hills. Said she was low on cash. Offered her a job. She got all uppity.”

“Well, I’m glad she still has some standards,” I muttered.

“Not many,” Rob shot back. “Not much she won’t do. Just won’t do it on camera.”

“You are a disgusting man,” I said.

“So they tell me,” Rob replied, unconcerned.

I turned and stalked from the room, Syn close behind me. When we reached the  parking lot, I finally let loose a guttural scream. Syn just waited as I paced back and forth in front of her car. I finally stopped and turned to Syn.

“That man!” was all I could manage to say.

“I’m sorry, Francie,” Syn offered. “I didn’t think he’d be helpful, even if he wanted to be.”

“People like that—“

“Believe me, I know. Let’s just go home.”

We got back into the car and began the video-game like maze back to Venice. Halfway there, my phone rang. Speaking of infuriating men…

“Francie? It’s Michael.”

“Oh, Michael, hi,” I responded, a little flustered for some reason.

“I just wanted to see if you’d had any luck finding your sister.”

“I’m afraid not.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry to hear that. You know, the foundation does a lot of work in LA. I know some people – you know, if you need some help.”

I was touched by the offer, although I couldn’t imagine why he would want to get involved in my family drama. In the end, of course, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want him, or Lila, in any way connected to such a sordid affair.

“No, thank you, Michael. I appreciate it, but I can handle it.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“Well, when you’re ready, call m-my grandmother and we’ll send the jet for you.”

“No, really, that’s OK.”

“Francie, I – I’m sure my grandmother would want to help.”

“Yes, well, I—“ I couldn’t really think of a gracious way to refuse, and I wasn’t even entirely sure why I wanted to refuse anyway. “OK, thank you.”

I hung up the phone, my thoughts and emotions in even more turmoil than when I left Vivid. It took me a moment to realize that Syn was staring at me, while we were stopped at a light.

“What?” I asked.

“Who’s Michael?”