They ate Manny's meal, drank some more alcohol, smoked some more weed, and then engaged in a two hour sex session in Jake's bedroom. Mindy slipped out the door just before eleven that night, leaving a snoring Jake naked beneath the covers. Reeking of sexual musk she found Manny watching television in the main living room. She kissed his cheek, thanked him for a wonderful meal, and let herself out the door. Down in the lobby the news crew spotted her the moment she emerged from the elevator. They filmed her as she walked across the lobby to the valet and while she waited for her Mercedes to be brought around. The moment it was parked in front of the door she stepped outside, they fell upon her like vampires.
"Mindy," the heavily made-up female reporter shouted, stepping forward and shoving her microphone in Mindy's face. "Do you have a minute?"
"No," she said, taking her keys from the valet and slipping him a ten-dollar bill.
"I understand you've been up on the twenty-fourth floor for the past eight hours. Was it Jake Kingsley you were visiting?"
"No comment," she said, pushing her way around the woman and getting into her car.
"But Mindy," the reporter persisted. "In light of the recent pictures of you and Jake Kingsley together, it could hardly be a coincidence that you just happened to be in the same building where he lives for eight hours, could it?"
"No comment," she repeated, closing her door and locking it.
The cameraman stepped close and zoomed on her through the window as she put the car in drive and pulled away. He continued to film the vehicle until it disappeared from sight around the next corner.
The next morning Jake, who had no idea that any of this had transpired, came limping out the front door to get into his limousine for the trip to the recording studio. A large group of reporters, paparazzi, photographers, and news cameramen swarmed him, blocking his access.
"What the fuck?" Jake muttered, blinded by the flashbulbs, his ears ringing from a hundred shouted questions. His confusion was understandable. Though the press hounded him endlessly wherever he went, this was the first time he'd actually encountered them outside of his building. They either hadn't known where he lived before, or they had been observing some unwritten rule about not disturbing celebrities at their house — he knew not which. But whichever, they were certainly bothering him now. He strained to listen to what they were shouting.
"Was Mindy here last night?"
"What were you two doing up there all night?"
"Are you going to acknowledge a romantic relationship with Mindy?"
"Were the two of you intimate?"
Jake sighed, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. "No comment, no comment," he said as he pushed his way through the crowd and dove into the back of the limo. They continued to shout questions at him as the car pulled away. And when he arrived at the National Records building, there was a similar throng waiting there as well.
Crow was infuriated. "Why the hell don't you just take out a goddamn ad in the LA Times and announce that you're banging Mindy Snow? The whole fucking world knows about it now anyway!"
Jake refused to feel apologetic towards Crow or anyone else at National Records. He did touch bases with Mindy and with Shaver, both of whom advised that the best thing to do was to deny everything and to hide behind a wall of "no comment". When contacted later that day Shaver and Georgette both stated for the record — with straight faces no less — that Mindy and Jake had not been together last night, that Mindy had merely been visiting another, unnamed friend, who coincidentally lived in the same building.
The story, the film of Mindy in Jake's building, and the pathetic, unbelievable denials, were played throughout the day on nearly every channel in the United States. Newspaper entertainment sections printed the story the following day. The following week several entertainment magazines had full-length articles about the growing rumors of a Kingsley/Snow relationship. The amount of reporters and paparazzi stalking the two of them doubled.
A month went by and things settled down a bit. There was still endless speculation and rumors printed in a variety of magazines or touted on a variety of entertainment shows, but nothing new added to the fever. Jake and the rest of the band were locked into the grueling routine of recording and Mindy had several public relations jaunts she had to undergo in addition to two readings for upcoming film roles.
"They turned me down for the part in Focus On The Dream," Mindy told Jake during one of the few phone conversations they managed. Focus was a teen oriented film about a girl's softball team and their struggle for respect and recognition in an early seventies college known for its football team. It was just the sort of cutesy feel-good movie that exploited the Mindy Snow image to the maximum. The lead role had in fact been written with the specific intent that Mindy would play it. She had been told beforehand that the reading was nothing more than a formality. Apparently, however, that had not been the case.
"What happened?" Jake asked. "Was it because of... you know... you and me?"
"Yeah," she said. "It was. The producer told me that with the recent controversy that has cropped up between me and 'that lowlife musician', they had decided to go with Jessica Coriander instead."
Jake felt horrible about this. He had cost her a part that would have paid eight million dollars. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "This is exactly what Georgette told you would happen. And she was right."
"Don't worry about it," she said. "It's not your fault."
"Maybe we should think about... uh... not seeing each other anymore," he suggested. "I don't want to..."
"Don't you like me anymore, Jake?" she asked, her voice quivering.
"Yes," he said. "I like you very much. I love spending time with you, but I'm hurting your career."
"Let me worry about my career," she said. "That was just another wholesome little girl part anyway. Fuck them if they're afraid my personal life will detract from it."
"But, Mindy..."
"There will be other parts for me," she said. "Trust me. Now when can we see each other again? I'm having a severe case of Jake-withdrawal."
That turned out to be the following Sunday. She gave him cryptic instructions to have a limousine drop him off at an intersection in Beverly Hills at ten o'clock in the morning. He followed the directions and found himself standing in front of a high-end Chevrolet dealership. Mindy's car was not parked out front as he was expecting. While he puzzling over this, Mindy came walking out from within the showroom wearing a red spaghetti strap top and a pair of white shorts. She ran up to him and gave him a big hug, kissing him repeatedly on the mouth.
"Mindy," he hissed at her. "We're in public. There are people watching us."
"Fuck 'em," she said. "They all know we're together anyway, don't they? Is there any point in pretending?"
This threw him for a bit of a loop. "Are you saying we should go public?"
"No," she said, "but I'm tired of sneaking around like a teenager trying to hide something from her parents. Let's just get together when we want, do what we want, and say nothing to the vultures. Let them draw their own conclusions."
"Its not too hard to draw one when we're kissing in front of a car dealership."
She smiled her sexy smile — the one she usually only displayed during foreplay. "Like I said, fuck 'em. They can make of it what they will." And with that, she kissed him soundly, sticking her tongue in his mouth this time.
He was a bit breathless when she released him, and more than a little aroused. But he was curious as well. "What are we doing here?" he asked. "Where's your car?"
"It's at home," she said. "I had a limo drop me here."
"How come?"
"Because it's becoming quite the pain in the ass to pick you up from your condo," she said. "And as I told you before, I'm an old-fashioned girl. I like my man to pick me up for a date at my place, in his own car."