Glamorising Della Duvell

Glamorising Della Duvell

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


A New York advertising agency searched internationally to find a good-looking female with perceived star qualities to project magnificently to attract new clients. A young woman from rural England without marketing and advertising credientials is selected for this novel promotional initiative that hopefully will boost the agency's earnings and prestige. The risk of this venture failing to take off has some of the executives and partners within the agency worried.


A New York advertising agency searched internationally to find a good-looking female with perceived star qualities to project magnificently to attract new clients. A young woman from rural England without marketing and advertising credientials is selected for this novel promotional initiative that hopefully will boost the agency's earnings and prestige. The risk of this venture failing to take off has some of the executives and partners within the agency worried.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Glamorizing Della Duvell

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 02, 2017

Reads: 895

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 02, 2017



Chapter 1

Della Duvall swallowed, looking at the New York skyline as the jetliner from England approached JFK. It was not an unfamiliar sight because she’d seen it often on TV and in movies and print media. But big is big and eyeing it now it looked unbelievably gigantic.

 Although Della worked in a large town as a beautician, she’d resided for the past four of her twenty-three years with her parents in a village where the tallest structure was the church spire and the tallest commercial building was the Professional Chambers of two floors.

Strathaven’s population was 988 at the last Census and New York of course was quite a lot larger than that.

Della spotted willowy Aunt Celia before her glamorous-looking aunt saw her. Well it was just like looking at a younger version of her mother.

“Aunt Celia.”

“Omigod, Della. Just look at you; all grown up. God I’ll have to maintain a security fence around you. Kiss me darling but take care of my make-up.”

Della butterfly-kissed a cheek and Celia flashed her a grateful smile.

“We may leave now auntie. I’m carrying everything I’ve brought with me. With this half-million-dollar contract I thought it was time to spend some of it and dressing up was the way to go.”

“The way to go? What kind of language is that?”

“Modern English. It’s explicit and simplified.”

“Oh, is it? Have you forgotten you are American?”

“I was only eighteen months old when dad and mum took me to England to live.”

“Ah yes.  Be a honey and try to adapt quickly to American-English. It will be much easier for me. Off we go.”

They lined up to wait for a cab.

“A taxi? I thought you’d have a limo?”

“We don’t own a car darling. There’s no point. When we go on vacation we fly and rent an auto.”

“Way to go auntie,” Della smiled.

“Darling would you please just call me Celia. I believe most of my friends will think I’m too young to be an auntie.”

“But you are…”

“Darling please. Quoting age is akin to saying fuck in front of a Bishop.”

“I’ll remember that Celia. But how do I explain my relationship to you and Roy to enquirers?”

“Oh, why not try you’re my stepsister?”

Celia caught Della’s astonished look.

“Darling remember, I’m providing your accommodation and assimilation program for your first month in New York.”

“You mean I may say you are my older stepsister?”

“Just stepsister will suffice darling. No one will bother to ferret into that relationship.”

“Well, I can live with that.  I’m very proud you are determined to try not to show your age.”

Celia sighed. “Could we please avoid conversing about age Della. I’d be so grateful.”

“Yes, for sure. And I suppose that also applies to cosmetic surgery and body enhancement surgery?”

“Oh god, I need a drink.”

When they were delivered outside the apartment building in Upper Eastside, Celia took Della across the street to a bar.

“Ooh, this is lovely but isn’t just after 10:30 at little early to be drinking alcohol?”

“My nerves have been shaken and we don’t keep alcohol in the apartment because it’s too much of a temptation for Roy,” Celia said, ordering a whisky and dry ginger and a coke.

“What sort of restriction do you apply on him about sex? You do have a lovely body.”

“Make that whisky a double,” Celia called.


Roy arrived home and greeted Della in a memorable manner. She was wearing a house skirt than came only marginally lower than her crotch and so a big expanse of beautifully shaped flesh was showing.


“Roy, a polite greeting please and Della tomorrow I want you to look at hem lengths that prevail here for woman of your age. Higher than four inches above the knee would be rare to see except for hookers or girls in their late teens.”

“But around the house like you are now is fine my dear niece. I’m waiting for a kiss.”

“Right Roy. My information is I’m Celia’s stepsister and I’m to call you Roy, not Uncle Roy.”

“Oh, Christ.”

“That’s enough thank you Roy,” Celia said, steel in her voice. “Have your shower and we’ll go out to dinner. I need a drink.”

“How’s Lance?”

“Dad is fine thanks Roy. You may not be aware he took early retirement and now works from home on an Internet business as an engineering consultant on small structures, mostly homes.”

“Celia often says you guys disappeared into suburbia.”

“Actually, it’s a tiny village that goes back to the Norman Conquests.”

“What are they?”

“They were Normans from Normandy in France who successfully invaded England in the 11th Century.”

“Oh, I thought they might be a football team.”

“God Roy, your knowledge of world history is appalling. Go have your shower otherwise Della and I am leaving without you.”

They rode by cab to a nondescript restaurant, passing perhaps thirty restaurants on the way. Della regarded this as an example of New York eccentricity until Celia said, “I used to always eat at this restaurant as a girl with my parents and it’s still in the hands of the same family. I returned five years ago, and the family made me so welcome that we resolved to make it our family restaurant.”

Della smiled and that explained the over-the-top welcome they received with they entered.

“This contest you won. What did you have to do?” Roy asked.

“Mum … sorry mom, entered me without my knowledge and I was contacted to go to an advertising agency in London to be interviewed. The interview was filmed and sent to New York. About a month later I was asked to return to that agency in London with a lawyer. I hired one in The City and was told I’d won a two-year contract to be, and I quote, ‘the face and voice of today’s modern young International woman’, unquote, and I needed to relocate to New York.”

“What, just out of the blue like that?”

“Yes, I was interviewed again, that time excessively. The vice-president of the head office of that advertising agency from New York said they’d had a short list of thirty candidates, most of whom were prettier than me but I was the final choice because I had a unique Anglo-American voice and also spoke French and Italian. I was about to tell them to get fu… err to go jump in the lake when my obese and sweating lawyer asked for clarification about salary. The vice-president Mr Adams said yes, that was correctly stated on the contract, 20,000 American dollars a month for two years. I almost died.”


“Omigod,” Celia said and then snapped, “Roy I’ve told you this many times, do you have to say Jesus or Christ all the time?”

“I could be equally picky with you and your ‘Omigod’ but I’m too polite, at least when other people are present.”

“Um, should I leave you two so you can fight?”

“Oh, darling of course not. You are family and Roy and I ought not to misbehave. Look, tomorrow you and I will spend all day on 5th Avenue buying you suitable clothes for your high-powered job.”

“Oh no, I just require casual clothes. I have been instructed to appear for duties wearing jeans and whatever and I’ll be dressed from wardrobe for filming, camera shoots, mall appearances and for formal occasions where celebrities are invited to lift the level and tone of events.”

Roy scratched an ear.

“But you are my niece from an obscure English village. You’re not a celebrity.”

“I said that too but was told within weeks of taking up my role, I’d be a celebrity.”

“Omigod, you best revert to calling me Aunt Celia. With you being in the limelight my claim you are my stepsister could be exposed as a fraud.”

“That’s fine by me. My mom says honesty always pays. I notify the agency you are acting as my guardians if you like.”

“Oh no…”

“And that may lead to VIP invitations with you having such linkage with me.”

“Well, in that case we should be listed as having that relationship with Della shouldn’t we Roy?”

“I don’t know. What kind of invitations?”

“I was told charity dinners, film premieres, big baseball games …”

“Yes definitely,” Roy said. “Sounds like football game invitations will be likely as well?”

“Quite probably. The agency has three corporation clients that sponsor major golf events.”

Roy took his niece’s hand and purred, “Sweetheart how soon do you start with this advertising agency?”

“On Monday Roy.”

“Ah very good.”

Celia frowned watching this familiarity and came up with the acceptable suggestion that Della continued calling them Celia and Roy.

*  *  *

A couple of hours later Della was awaken by someone climbing into her bed. The intruder smelled like a male.

“Have you lost your way in the dark Roy?”

“God, you must have cat’s eyes,” he said, reaching for her breasts. “Are you going to scream?”

“No I lost my way when I was eighteen. Sex has become my hobby and I was wondering how I could get my first encounter in America only to find you have that in hand,” she purring, reaching for his erection.

“God it’s thick with a huge head. Celica must go delirious.”

“We rarely fuck. She has too many rules and pukes about my sweat.”

“You can sweat as much as you like with me. A guy is not into real fucking unless he sweats and makes his babe sweat.”

“Ooh, I’m gonna love shoving this into you,” Roy groaned as Della spread her legs.

“Just don’t mark me,” Della said, deciding she wouldn’t demand foreplay. The two squeezes of a tit she’d just received didn’t amount to foreplay.

Her eyes widened as the big head burrowed.

And then the light went on.

“Christ Roy, what are you doing?”

“Um, exploring?”

“Get out of here your filthy hustler and go to the guest room.”

“Della, you are not to allow Roy to touch you again.”

“Is that a rule?”

“Damn right it’s a rule. Janis would have a fit if she knew her daughter was into incest. Your father hasn’t…”

“He’s never touched me this way and neither has mom.”

“Thank god for that. Well young lady, let Roy touch you in that way again and you are out of here with one of my boots up your ass.”

Della couldn’t believe that was her aunt speaking.


Roy winked and Della and swatted her ass when she entered the kitchen next morning and she thought that was the end of his sexual molestation. But no. Celia was pulled out of bed by one of her friends phoning to say a color consultant had arrived and they were immediately in dispute and Celia was required to be the adjudicator. Off she went.

Roy looked at Della, hungrily she thought.

He said thickly, “My first appointment at the office is not for another hour.”

“And you’d like to continue from where you left off last night?”

“Now that you mention it yes.”

“Okay,” Della said, leaning against the kitchen table and pulling up her skirt. “Down boy.”

Roy scuttled across to her like a cockroach and ripped her panties apart.

Della sighed.

“Now there’s no rush Roy. Take your time and be loving to me.”

“Celia hasn’t let me at her for almost a month.”

“That’s no excuse for not treating me gently and affectionately Roy.”

He slurped the length of Della’s vulva and said okay.

Actually, he was quite good and pulled Della into her first release before she expected it. She ruffled his thinning hair and said, “Good boy. More please.”

Eventually Roy stood up red faced and panting, giving Della a good look at his cock.

She felt half-faint because it was three week since she’d last had a cock and this one was fat and looked brutal. God, how could Celia go night after night turning down being rammed by that? Was her aunt gay?”

Roy lifting her on to the kitchen table smirked and said, “You have a great cunt, very juicy.”

“Why thank you Roy,” Della said civilly.

Roy was struggling so Della opened her legs very wide and he popped in with the grunt and she felt very full as he slid all the way in.

Unfortunately, he was a boring fucker… just in out, in out with no conversation, no caressing; just total concentration to presumably enjoy his ejaculation. Stifling a yawn Della faked signs of fascination and said, “Oh is that Celia arriving back?”

Roy’s face turned purple and he pulled out and sprayed across her tits and across both sides of the table.

“I can’t hear anything.”

“Oh, false alarm Roy. Double finger me so I get off please.”

Roy managed to do that very well. Della walked off to her bathroom saying, “Clean up really well, Roy. I understand wives can smell their husband’s semen from twenty yards away.”

“Oh Christ, now you tell me,” Roy moaned.

*  *

Della and her aunt spent all Friday shopping and the couple spent the weekend introducing their niece to Manhattan. She loved what she saw and chalked up several notable experiences and they met several of Celia’s friends, all of whom were younger than Celia.

On Monday morning, Della wore brown boots, jeans and a subdued color top and just lipstick and set off for the global headquarters of Payne-Blade-Rossi Worldwide Advertising Agency.

Kissing her niece goodbye, Celia was appalled. “You are without makeup.”

“That’s how the agency wants me at first – pretty but a little plain. And gradually I will emerge, ahem, as a swan. Those are not my words.”

“This is ridiculous. You must complain to someone.”

“To whom? Those are the instructions from the agency’s global chairman, Mr Napoleon Rossi.”

“Omigod, you are to meet him? He’s a reclusive billionaire.”

“He’s still only a guy, an old one in fact.”

“Della, for goodness sake, you can’t speak about American royalty like that.”

“Can’t I aunt? Show me their crown and I’ll regard them as royalty.”

“Oh darling, please tread gently.”

*  *

Della waited in the reception lounge, saying no to coffee and waited for Mr Adams’ PA to come down from an upper floor. The three women were whispering, no doubt saying ‘Do you call that a beautiful face and look at her hair, will you?’

A beautiful woman in her mid-40’s emerged from an elevator and came straight over to Della.

“Hi Della, I’m Hailey Steele. Oh, you did take my communication seriously to come here looking tidy but as plain as possible. You have done magnificently.”

“It was a strange request Hailey.”

“But the stakes are high. It’s all about creating image for you. We want our team to build you from the soles of your feet up. But nothing will be done without your consent.”

“I think I understand.”

“Excellent. Please place this security-coded card around your neck. It gives you access to the 32nd floor where our chief executives and their PAs are stationed. The boardroom is also there. We have two days to get your ready.”

“The big announcement about a new young face for America will be made during the 6:00 news hour tomorrow at the TV station of our choice. At 6:45, Mr Adams will take you to the TV studio that’s in walking distance from here to be interviewed with you on Behind the News at around 7:15. It is expected to be a 15-minute segment but more about that later,” Hailey said, directing Della into the elevator.

“Good I understand all that. Um, do I call Mr Adams Jerry or Mr Adams?”

“It’s up to you dear. I recall being told at Business School it’s first impression that count for most and you begin with someone realizing that’s how they’ll expect your relations to basically continue thereafter.”

“I’m young, will he expect me to be polite to an older person. I did meet him in London.”

“It’s your call Della. I’ve given you all this assistance I feel I’m able to in this instance.”

They emerged into a very plush reception area and Hailey pulled out a short-range radio communicator and pushing a button said, “We are approaching your office door now.”

Della heard the gruff response, “Come in.”

Hailey opened the door and walked in and said, “Mr Adams, you will remember Miss Duvall?”

“Of course,” he beamed coming around his carved wood desk and holding out a hand. “Welcome to New York Della.”

She ignored the outstretched hand and kissed him and said, “I’m pleased to meet you on your home patch Jerry and hope our business venture succeeds beyond your expectations.”

Jerry did a double take and smiled. “I like your style young lady. Look, come through a meet Douglas Brett. Be careful because he’s tentative about this project, calling it too impertinent and thinks it’s a little too radical. We’ll be back in a minute Hailey.”

Jerry knocked and walked into the adjoining and much larger office.

The guy on the phone held up one finger and Della interpreted that as wait one-minute. He came off the phone a little over thirty seconds later.

“Douglas, meet our rising star that will take our billings through the roof and win us huge kudos.”

“Hi Della,” he said, not bothering to get up.

“Hi Douglas. I admire you and your team for taking this risky venture but if you all do what’s right I know you’ll be on to a winner.”

Douglas frowned. “Oh, and how’s that?”

“Because I know women.”

Douglas grinned and said, “Say that on TV tomorrow night and in your newspaper and magazine interviews in days following and I’ll be a much happier man about this almost outrageous initiative.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because what you said rings with authenticity.”

“Ooh, I bet you began in this industry as a copywriter and a damn good one.”

The award-winning former copywriter flushed with pleasure.

“That comment doesn’t surprise me. I watched the tape of Jerry interviewing you and concluded you were a very personable and intelligent young woman.”

“Well thank you. Men run a little thin on compliments these days, I’m told. I trust Mrs Ranger reminds herself she is married to a gentleman?”

Douglas grinned. “It’s a delight meeting you Della. Take her away Jerry.”


Hailey said, “I trust it went well?”

“Beyond expectations actually. Della rocked him, appearing so confident and so smooth.”

“Good girl Della.”

“Well Hailey, I’m widely read. I understand your industry is something like 70% about perception and having being warned that the president was lukewarm about this project I attempted to ease his fears. He behaved like a lamb.”

Hailey looked disbelieving.

“It’s true Hailey. Della had me almost hearing angels singing.”

“Well I never.”

“Ooh I bet you do Hailey.”

Hailey turned crimson and glanced at Jerry and that told Della something about those two.


Hailey took Della shopping for the next four hours; everything they purchased was couriered to Della’s hotel suite. Della wanted the items couriered to Celia’s home but Hailey said, “No because from tomorrow you stay in your hotel suite that will be your home for the next two years or until Jerry decides to upgrade you even further.”

“I’m to live in a hotel?”

“Yes. Your contact says you live where we tell you. If you’ve made other arrangements cancel; tonight, is your last night for staying anywhere else until you are allocated clear time off by me that could range from a night to a fortnight and on those nights, you may sleep wherever you like. You will be expected to take your men back to your suite rather than going where they wish to take you. Except on your free nights of course, but don’t count on them being too many.”

“Well I suppose that’s okay. My lawyer interpreted those clauses for me, saying he’d be pessimistic, but I found it hard to listen, having just won the contact and my astonishment was profound.”

“You appear to be a lovely and bright young woman Della. I promise to look after your interests well and soon as you gain presence that responsibility will shift to your minder.”

“A minder?”

“Yes, a person who will be with you night and day, doing most things with you, stepping back at your comfort stops being one of the exceptions. But more about him or her later.”

“Her please, I won’t want a…”

“Wait until the role and the threats and responsibilities are spelt out to you Della. This is New York. But let’s talk about this later, huh?”

“Very well.”

In the afternoon, they visited beauty establishments where Della had been booked in. The experiences were too long to be enjoyable and she arrived at 7:00 at the apartment to tell Celia and Roy about her generally tiresome day.

Celia gaped at the partial new look Della and said the clothes sounded lovely but agreed shopping wasn’t quite the best thing when you had to do it and neither was going through oodles of skin treatment processes.

Roy said she was being paid a small fortune and should accept whatever landed on her. They both were disappointed their niece would be leaving them next morning because they’d expected to host her for at least a month.

“Any signs of any invitation to major sporting events coming our way?” Roy asked hopefully.

“That will come up as my role develops. I’m yet to be really briefed on my role. All I know I am to be used to lure new advertising contracts worth millions.”


“Through the promotion of me – mainly my face and my voice.”

“Well you need to do something about your hair before that pitch is made,” Celia sniffed.

“That’s on the agenda tomorrow. Oh, there is to be an announcement on TV about me tomorrow and then I appear for a 15-minute interview that will include my boss.”

“Good heavens,” Celia said. “Now this is beginning to make sense.”

“Yeah it means Della is being converted into a commodity,” Roy said, nodding thoughtfully.

Della gave them the TV station and times to watch.


Next morning, with Hailey again acting as adviser, she and Della shopped extravagantly and in the afternoon visited grooming establishments. Grooming was the right word for it. Della thought she felt as a poodle would feel after being washed, clipped, combed and having full nail treatment.

Her fear that she might be treated for fleas was unfounded.

“Gruff,” she said to Hailey riding up to the top floor to meet the executive directors and professional directors in the boardroom. Hailey missed the joke, asking “Gruff what?”

“I feel like a dog after all that grooming.”

“Oh, a joke,” Hailey laughed, a little jaded and also in need of a couple of drinks. “You are looking very beautiful. I can now see and hear what Jerry saw in you. When you speak formerly you sound neither English-English nor American really.”

“Jerry called it mid-Atlantic.”

“Yes, that’s it. You stretch to incorporate both.”

“And I’m also required to appeal to the French and the Italians.”

“Omigod, and here was I thinking you were receiving that enormous salary just for smiling.”


Hailey, wearing a business suit and having refused to have her hair combed up to avoid ‘taking the gloss’ off Della when meeting the directors, had timed their arrival to be twenty minutes late. Everyone was there and holding a drink when she opened the double doors and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present your corporation’s choice of the face and voice of today’s modern young international woman Miss Della Duvall.”

The president of the advertising agency Douglas Brett came forward and greeted Della with a big smile and kissed her cheeks, continental style and everyone clapped.

Douglas then took her to a tall and thin elderly man and said to the company chairman, Napoleon Rossi, “Sir I present to you our choice for this innovative marketing scheme we launch with an announcement on TV in about an hour from now. Miss Duvall speaks Italian. You may wish to authenticate this claim?”

Mr Rossi spoke rapidly in Italian and waited, eyebrow raised.

Della replied fluently and turning said to the gathering, “Mr Rossi welcomed me to America and said he understood I was American born. He was born in Naples and came to New York when he was seven and each time he returns to Italy, which he loves, he eventually looks forward to returning here to New York which he calls home. He hopes I enjoy learning of the city of my birth and wished me well in my business venture with this agency.”

“I apologized for speaking rather coarsely in Italian, that I considered it to be a beautiful language and I too loved Italy and that I was glad he’d found his new home. I said Americans would regard him as being the perfect example of countless immigrants who through their hard work and vision have reached great heights in this great land of opportunity. I then thanked him for his welcome.”

Everyone clapped and Mr Rossi said, “This beautiful young lady speaks Italian like an angel and her translation was impeccable.”

He then held up his hand and a waiter rushed forward with a tray and Mr Rossi took from it a glass of champagne and handed it to Della. She passed that to Hailey and turned back empty-handed to Mr Rossi who kidded, “What you have consumed that drink already? Now where are you concealing that flute?” He took another glass from the tray and handed that to Della and said, “I am pleased you had the grace to pass the first glass to Miss Steele.”

Douglas clapped his hands and asked everyone turn to the screen.

“Jerry will play us a short video that explains our business objectives in engaging Miss Duvall. This information of course is confidential and must not be discussed beyond this room. After that Jerry and Miss Steele will take Miss Duvall to the TV station for the interview. We will serve hot food while we watch TV for the news presentation and a desert while waiting for the TV interview. Please run the short video Jerry.”

Seven minutes later as the video ended Della at last had clear understanding of the project she’d be involved in. Estimates are it could bring in twenty-eight million dollars in gross revenue by the time the program was terminated in two years’ time when Della’s use-by date in her unique role would be approaching, perhaps rather rapidly, due to intense public exposure.

The pieces she’d picked up now made sense. Her role was to lure advertisers to the agency and the agency would build unique promotional campaigns for them around the beautiful face and lovely body and great voice of Della Duvall, the world’s number one advertising face of today, and that time was no longer than two years.

“As time passes you’ll be a busy, busy girl, traveling the world working,” Hailey whispered.

“Yeah. But I reckon I can handle it.”

The fifth item on the ‘News at Six’ network was about a New York advertising agency moving to corner the lucrative cosmetic and style market sectors by offering advertisers the opportunity to build local, regional or global marketing around the face of its ‘perfect face and voice of a Transatlantic young woman’ picked from a global search for such a perfect woman.’

The newsreader said, “There is skepticism about whether the search was global because our newsroom had never heard about such a search and our correspondents in Buenos Aires, Nassau, Ottawa and Paris had not heard of such a search and neither had our correspondents in more obscure capitals such as Canberra, Zagreb, Reykjavik and Tripoli. We did however find our affiliated newsrooms here in Harlem and in Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas and in London and Dublin had knowledge that Payne-Blade-Rossi Worldwide Advertising Agency had widely promoted such a search.”

“Madison Avenue-based Robert Angus, president of Angus, Dwight, Bennett Advertising, says such an unconventional move to corner those sections of the advertising market are bound to fail. Meanwhile Michelle Mason, our consultant on advertising and public relations is not sure that pessimistic comment is well founded. She says it’s rare for Payne-Blade-Rossi to put a foot wrong.”

“Understandably the agency has been coy about releasing details of this Ad Wonder-Woman but Michelle has been invited to unveil this remarkable combination of face and voice on our Behind the News program that follows this news hour. The unveiling occurs at 7:15 and perhaps we will be surprised or more likely laughing at a seemingly outrageous and misguided marketing program of the year when we learn details.”

That tape was played back to Jerry, Della and Hailey when they arrived at the studio for the interview. Jerry went into make-up alone because Della refused to allow any TV make-up artist to tamper with her appearance. As no studio audience was involved the program producer threw up her hands and told the complaining make-up department manager to let it be.


Chapter 2

Celia had fifteen of her friends in to watch the unveiling of her niece. Roy took headache pills as a precaution and worked tirelessly passing drinks and nibbles for almost ninety minutes before the last woman left after the post-appearance debate about Della’s appearance on TV.

“God those bitches can drink.”

“Roy how dare you! Oh, I’m so excited, you may sleep in my bed tonight.”


Thinking back Celia recalled being astounded when her niece appeared on screen. She recognized Della of course but her make-up and hair was so perfect and her poise so elegant.

“Omigod!” the women had screamed, triggering Roy’s headache that lasted until the pills kicked in.

“Good evening Miss Duvall and Mr Adams. I’m Michelle Mason. And so Mr Adams, this is your global Ad Wonder Woman Miss Duvall?”

“We prefer to call Miss Duvall our super presenter.”

“I prefer to be just called Della thank you. I’m not all that long out of my teens.”

“Then how old are you?”

“I’m not meant to say because the agency wants me to appear ageless. But I’m twenty-three.”

“And what is your accent?”

“I’m told it’s mid-Atlantic. My parents are New Yorkers but took me to live in England when I was eighteen months old. Dad now speaks English with local accent as if he’s always lived in southern England and mother clings to speaking like a New Yorker in an endeavor to preserve her heritage. I guess I found myself growing up in the middle.”

The program continued with details of the contest being exposed. The search had been conducted in eight of America’s largest cities and then promoted through a top fashion magazine that circulated in thirty-three countries.

“And you received nominations of lovely young women in thirty-three counties?” Michelle said disbelievingly.”

“As a matter of fact, there were multiple nominations from forty-seven countries,” Jerry said. “Apparently. the magazine is carried across borders by purchasers and then left on buses and in train stations. There is no other explanation. We received 9349 nominations that were processed by Dexter-Ryan Beauty Consultants Corporation here in New York.”

“We were presented with the applications of thirty recommended semi-finalists whose nationalities included American, French, Irish, English, Australian and Nigerian. Our agency’s panel that included two outside consultants settled on ten finalists and the two consultants and I traveled to France, England, South Africa and the West Indies to interview the finalists. Although Della was not the most beautiful of those finalists she scored highly in each sector. They were The Look, Deportment, Personality and Voice. We believed it was significant Della was the only finalist to score ten out of ten of voice. So. there we have it.”

“What did Della score on The Look?”

“In the middle with a six.”

“And what about Deportment?”

“The highest with nine.”

“And what about personality?”

“She tied on eight points with a Jamaican and a South African applicant.”

“So. who was next highest on Voice?”

“The beautiful applicant from France who scored a seven because she spoke only French. Della of course can speak English with an English accent and an American accent and is fluent also in French and Italian.”

“Omigod,” sighed Michelle. “You are indeed a young wonder woman. We are out of time so very briefly, what does your work involve?”

“That is unclear at present.”

“You’ve come this far without knowing that essential?”

“Yes. You see it will depend what are the requirements of the advertisers who will contract me as their presenter.”

“Oh yes, of course. Well thank you Mr Adams of Payne-Blade-Rossi Worldwide Advertising Agency for unveiling advertising’s wonder woman to us and thank you for appearing on this show Della. You are a delightful young person.”


Jerry, Della and Hailey had just crossed the street to a bar when Jerry’s phone went. The call was very brief.

“That was Douglas. He said we were fucking fantastic.”

Della and Hailey hugged and jumped up and down.

Della’s phone went. She spoke very briefly in Italian.

“That was an invitation to dinner tomorrow and I’m to bring you Hailey if I don’t have a male escort. That was Mrs Rossi. She said I came across as being a very sweet young woman. But surely it’s clear that’s how I am.”

“Of course,” Jerry said, ordering a bottle of champagne.

The male bartender poured and said, “The first glass if for you Della.”

“Thank you. You know me?”

The guy finished pouring a glass for Hailey before pointing to the TV. “You were great.”

Jerry said, “What about me?”

“Oh, you were the guy. Well, you were okay.”

Jerry laughed and said, “Believe it or not that comment is music to my ear. This is what out campaign is all about.”


Next day Jerry took Della to a security agency, Ace Personal Security 24/7. Della had said she’d prefer a female minder and six were lined up behind one-way vision glass for her inspection.

Francis the consultant provided details. They were generally less than good looking but had impressive qualifications in martial arts and excellent references from satisfied clients.

“Which one appeals?”

“None. I want a good looker like you Francis and intelligent and well-educated.”

“Well I’m not available because I manage the women and with a young family I don’t do 24/7. If you return tomorrow, I’ll line up more female operators.”

“What about males?”

“Yes, but that will also be tomorrow.”

“What about that guy sitting in reception when we came through?”

“That’s Bruno Baker who’s just back from suspension waiting to be bawled out again by me.”

“Why was he suspended?”

“For bringing our agency into disrepute in the media. A bottle-wielding woman hit his client’s wife in a restaurant on a Friday night. Bruno used excessive force by knocking the attacker cold with one blow but in his court appearance on Saturday morning he was let off with a very stern warning from the judge. The Sunday press had a field day.”

“Bring up his file please.”

“He’s hardnosed Della and clients have complained he is disrespectful to them.”

“Did they earn it or do you just take the side of the clients?”

“Well clients come first.”

“That’s not a good answer. Please show me Bruno’s file.”

Jerry said, “Della I really don’t think…”

“Jerry if I’m to be pestered by punks and drunks I want a minder who protects me first and then sums in the situation, not the reverse. Even a facial bruise could put me out of action for several weeks and imagine what a facial cut would do?”

“Err, right. Francis bring up his file please and then leave us to discuss it but don’t approach Mr Baker.”


Jerry returned to the office leaving Della to take Bruno to early lunch where she wanted to learn all about her 24/7 twenty-nine-year old minder. They went to a French restaurant and Della was surprised when Bruno ordered in French. He smiled and said he’d lived in France for three years after completing high school.

“Your résumé said nothing about speaking French, only that you worked for an American construction company building a suspension bridge and lived on-site in a work camp.”

“Ah yes, but all my girlfriends were French and most were only French-speaking. But I worked with French guys who spoke good English and learnt the lingo well enough to get by and then went to night school to polish up.”

“I’m impressed.”

“I’m an impressed guy,” he grinned. “You are very beautiful. When will you and me… um?”

“It will depend. First, I’ll have to learn to trust you and learn just how gentle you can be. After we finish here I’ll take you to the hotel where you’ll be sharing a two-bedroom suite with me. I’ll show you some videos involving me and you’ll have a better idea what I am about. When do you wish to begin drawing salary?”

“I’ve started, haven’t I?”


“I’ve been living with my sister and her family in an apartment. We could pick up my things on the way to the hotel.”

“Very well. The Daily News is interviewing me at 3:30 at a coffee house near the newspaper. There is no need for you to be there with me.”

“My contract requires me to be with you when you are awake and sleep when you sleep but I am permitted to ask for breaks.”

“Yes of course. I have to get used to this regime as well. Will you keep your eyes open or shut when in the bathroom with me?”

He grinned. “I’ll be outside jerking off thinking of your body.”

“God. you are foul,” Della giggled. “Um, you have a beer or whatever. I’ve decided not to drink liquor until after dark and then not much. We must also enroll at the same gym.”

“My gym is mixed so enroll there. We can jog there and back to our hotel as part of our keeping fit regime. This is novel because I’ve never had a client who wanted to exercise.”

“Well your boss believes I’m an idiot in contracting you so please be a good boy.”

A few minutes later Hailey called.

“Hi, I should have said at the outset of our relationship I’m required as your office liaison person to report everything.”

Surprised and wondering what this was about Della said, “No, I didn’t realize you were a spy. I’ll have to watch myself.”


“It’s okay. You are required to follow orders to earn your salary. I understand that.”

“You are to come here urgently.”

“Okay, on my way in ten minutes.”

Della slammed her phone shut furiously.

“What’s up?”

“I’m required at the office. You go home to your sister and family and…”

“I accompany you to the office.”

“You don’t…”

“Dell for fuck sake listen to me. If it’s going to happen it probably will happen when you least expect it.”

“But practically no one knows me yet?”

“You were on TV last night. Have you any idea how many millions of people watch that TV network at news time?”

“Okay, I know you are better at doing your job that I am.”

“God, a client with humility,” Bruno grinned.

Della could have gone straight up at street level in the executive elevator. But she wanted to do something.

She paused in the main foyer before turning to the elevator and smiled and waved, “Hello girls.”

The three surprised receptionists that had dumbed-down their greetings on the day Della arrived, called raggedly, “Hi Miss Duvall” and looked a little uncomfortable, taking in how beautiful she looked and how expensively she was dressed.

Bruno took Della’s elbow and escorted her to the elevators.

Hailey called into her radio as soon as she saw Della. She motioned Bruno to a chair and took Della into Jerry’s office.

Jerry was straight into it without any greeting.

“Della, we don’t want this guy living in your suite. Get him his own room.”

“Oh, hi Jerry.”

“What? Oh hi.”

“Who is ‘we’ Jerry?”

“Hailey and me and without doubt Douglas. We’d hoped you’d chose a male but not this disgraced guy and we are scandalized he’s sharing your suite. The media will have a field day if they get wind of this.”

“Perhaps I shall tell them and get it over quickly?”

“What? No, oh god no.”

“Get a second opinion Jerry – ask Douglas.”

“No, he doesn’t know about this. We are attempting to keep it under wraps.”

Della lost her smile and suddenly appeared to look older than her years.

“Now you listen to me Jerry and listen carefully. My hotel suite is my home and what I choose to do in my home and with whom is my business. Now as from this moment I refuse to work with Hailey. I nominate Maggie, PR manager as my liaison person and her role with me is to be one-sided, delivering instructions to me and over-seeing my welfare. If I find she is spying on me then I’ll replace her.”

“You have no right. Your contract states you are to work closely with our liaison person of senior ranking.”

“Indeed, it does but read the contract and tell me where it says the agency shall appoint the liaison person? I suggest you may find a piece of legal drafting with an embarrassing deficiency Jerry. Now assign me Maggie and she is to accompany me to dinner tonight with Mrs Rossi. Please give Maggie my phone number. If she’s not available, I’ll take Bruno.”

“No, you can’t do that,” Jerry choked. “That guy is not house trained.”

“Well it’s Maggie or Bruno my friend. Make it happen”

Hailey looked very upset but had not said a word during that exchange.

“Hailey in my book you deliberately engaged in back-stabbing me so I won’t say it has been delightful working with you. I’d also suggest you drop your affair with Jerry as it won’t be a good look for you if your husband or Douglas learn of it. I’ve caught the secretive glances you give Jerry.”

“Oh god,” Hailey wailed.

Della walked out, giving the illusion smoke was coming from her ears. She heard Jerry whisper, “God, are we are dealing with an unexploded bomb?”

Della smiled. It was more than likely her pleasant association with those on the top floor was over. She could now expect to deal directly with the creative people in advertising.

*  *

Dinner went very well, involving caterers of course, with twelve people being served in an apartment dining room as large as the total area of many people’s larger apartments.

Mrs Rossi greeted Della in Italian and after a brief exchange that was the end of Italian for the remainder of the evening. She greeted Maggie, introduced as Della’s agency liaison person. 

Mrs Rossi greeted Maggie warmly and then said to Della, “You know Della you must continue being your own person. Advertising people are virtually soulless. They are big on creativity and pulling in money and that’s about all. To succeed in this unique role of yours just continue to be your warm, interactive self with a touch of innocence. I suggest you remember that suggestion including maintaining a touch of innocence.”

Della gave Mrs Rossi he best ‘thanks mother’ smile.

Della and Maggie were introduced to the other guests who appeared to be the Rossi’s friends. Only one other couple appeared to be of Italian descent.

A publisher asked, “Della, do you think it’s audacious of your agency to try to establish your face as representative of today’s international young woman of the moment?”

“Not really. It’s simply a benchmark, a contestable benchmark actually, like a car of the year, a famous cheese, top restaurant, best fish dish, best holiday destination, best breasts…”

“Best breasts, who judges that and how do you get to be a judge?”

“Come of Mr Reynolds. Best breasts are subjective, depending on the eye and preference of the beholder. Some men like them small; most women I know like them firm and compact and some guys like them hanging. How do you prefer them Mr Reynolds, I mean as a seasoned observer?”

Other conversations had stopped.

Mrs Reynolds was eyeing Mr Reynolds.

“Err, like what Mrs Reynolds packs. Err definitely.”

Mrs Reynolds smiled and everyone smiled.

Mrs Rossi said in French, “You are a very diplomatic young woman and you came close to the wind but steered the correct course.”

Most people at the tabled nodded and smiled and Mrs Reynolds blew a kiss across the table at Mr Reynolds.

The magnificence of the 7-course dinner and the eloquence of the conversations set a new benchmark in society dinning for Della.

Maggie West, who’d taken a very active part in conversations and the entire group listened with interest when she answered Mrs Rossi and explained how the public relations department at the agency operated and how she’d gained experience in public relations.

Maggie was married with two young teenagers and said when she was leaving with Della, “That was the most sumptuous meal I think I’ve ever had. It’s a shame more food was wasted than eaten. And that apartment is more like a mansion than an apartment. It has been an unbelievable experience for me.”

“I agree. Maggie, were you briefed about no reporting back about any of my movements and associations with people that have no direct linkage to what I am instructed to do by the agency?”

“Yes, I was and that was really emphasized. When briefing me, Jerry said you’d had a run in with Hailey over her reporting back to him behind your back. He said I was not to report to him or to Mr Brett in his absence unless I first cleared any matter of concern with you. Hailey was so devastated at being called a spy she’s been given a week off on pay.”

Della explained the background to the issue to Maggie and described how Bruno had been recruited.

“I’m glad you discussed this with me,” Maggie said. “You had every right to feel betrayed. Hailey acted unprofessionally in not briefing you about the requirement to report back. You know I have a strong suspicion she and Jerry are having it off.”

“What Jerry and Hailey?” Della said innocently. “How exciting but Maggie you trusted me with that suspicion; my lips will remain sealed.”

Maggie seemed pleased about that.

“Look would you like to come for lunch Saturday and bring Bruno? Alternatively, the three of us could have lunch tomorrow as with me being your liaison person I ought to know your minder.”

“Which option suits you best Maggie?”

“Lunch Saturday. My girls would like to meet you and Bruno too no doubt. I also would like to meet a security guard who is handsome, going on your description of him. I was unaware they existed. I thought they all looked like bruisers.”


On Friday, Della was called to lunch with Maggie and Laurence Powell who had been at the Rossi’s dinner.

“Can you do this without Bruno? This your first client.”

“Yes, but he didn’t indicate that possibility at dinner?”

“That dinner was a social function. I’m emailing you now with Mr Powell’s CV and we will have a private dining room at the Exchange Club at 1:30. I’ll call for you. Tell Bruno I have a pepper spray in my handbag.”

“Only if it’s true.”

“It’s true. A contact got it for me.”

*  *

Laurence was already in the room when the women were escorted in. He kissed them both on the cheeks and ordered their choice of drinks. Della had French mineral water and Maggie and Laurence a Martini.

“Della, you interested me enormously the other night in a business sense. It would have been improper of me to have discussed this proposal at that dinner. I have contacted my principals in France and have since received written permission to proceed without further reference to them.  My company is a marketing company and the product I wish to market with your centralized assistance is a French perfume. I hold the exclusive agency for all of continental America including marketing rights of Ascenseur Perfume. Have you heard of it?”

Della said, “Yes I have seen advertisements and it’s in my mother’s collection of favorites.”

Maggie said she had a friend who used it regularly.

“But it’s not up there with the big-name perfumes?”

“No Laurence,” Della said. “But product marketing is hugely about perceptions, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. So, do you wish to work with my people?”

“Yes of course and it would be an honor having you as my first client.”

“Ah, so diplomatic,” he smiled, and Della said Maggie would initiate the business arrangements.

“My only involvement is approving what the draft contract proposes that I do, how, when and where it is to be done.  I am required to remain flexible and reasonable and I agree with that.”

Maggie received a call requiring her back at the office. She finished her main course and left.

Della had only a grilled chicken breast salad and watched Laurence finish dispatching his black-seared swordfish steak and then he had apple pie and custard and finished the bottle of wine from which Maggie had only had one glass.

“You are thinking I eat and drink too much.”


He grinned and said, “For the honesty of that reply I trust you as a business associate. I have a fairly large sailboat. You must come out with me and my family one weekend.”

“I will if I’m welcome to bring my minder. He wasn’t with me today because I’d already met you and we were dining in this private room as this exclusive club.”

“It is sensible you have a minder. Of course, he will be welcome. I will contact you when we go out again, probably two weekends away.”


Bruno was waiting outside the club for Della.

“Oh hello? Thank you for meeting me? Were you out for a walk?”

He growled, “I was worried. If any incident occurred and I was not on hand I would be in breach and as a resulted my employer would be discredited, humiliated and I’d be fired.”

“Oh god. That sounds unbelievably drastic but I accept what you say.”

“And in simple English that means?”

“Oh, you can go everywhere with me and even watch me pee.”

“Is that the truth?”


“Will you pee over me?”

“God Bruno don’t be so disgusting. Let’s go to home and change and go to the gym and have a good workout. By the time we finish that it will be dark and we can go to a bar and drink and become pals.”


“Bruno, you are not going to have sex with me until I know more about you and we are pals.”

“Right, pals it is.”


Della relaxed although still concerned about the sexual tension that was beginning to emerge. The guy was only interested in her for sex. And she? Um protection?

She’d only been in her bedroom for thirty-seconds when he walked in and said “Hi” as if they were meeting on the street. But no, this was different. He was shirtless; she had her panties down around her ankles and was reaching behind to undo her bra to change into her gym clothes.

“What are you doing in here Bruno? We had an agreement…”

“Hush. There’s no need to shout or to get overly excited. I came in to see if I could assist.”

“Assist?” Della looked at his wide chests and great abs. God be careful girl, she warned herself. If you don’t handle this carefully you’ll be fucked ahead of time.

Ahead of time? Oh yes, Della planned to be fucked by Mr Beefcake – when she had held him off long enough to make him really keen. But that plan failed.

“I’m going,” he grinned wolfishly.

Della felt her body readying itself for sex and told him he was welcome to stay.

“I’ll just help you with your bra. You are having difficulty.”

“I never had difficulty with…”

She was ignored. He came in behind her. She could smell him, not an unpleasant smell. Probably the smell of a male on heat. What? She had no idea of what she was thinking.

He pressed in against her, his crotch tight against her ass and thighs sticking as if glued. He must have leaned back because she couldn’t feel his torso and then she felt her bra come free. He cupped her breasts, rolled a nipple and that was when she lost it.

She spun in his arms, grabbed behind his head and pulled it down so their lips met. Mouths opened, saliva flowed and tongues entwined and the brute was squeezing her right boob bringing her to the threshold of pain until she wanted him to stop doing that and fuck her.

“Put it in,” she gasped.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

Bruno pushed her on to the bed and appeared to whip off her panties that she’d pulled up earlier in the one continuous movement.

He’d be big. She guessed that and pulled her legs open wide as he rolled on a condom.

Bruno turned out to be slim and long and that was fine by Della. Being long meant more variation in fucking positions because he wouldn’t fall out during backstrokes.

Bruno pushed in, watching her face anxiously. She was pleased about that because it indicated he cared.


“It feels lovely Bruno. Go right in up to your balls.”

And right up he went and Della gurgled.

Bruno then pulled her to the edge and end of the bed and pulling her left leg up to his shoulder and with his right foot on the floor grasped her raised leg. Well anchored, he began a slow grind that had Della climbing to the stars. She’d been disappointed, thinking they were about to have boring old Missionary but this was out of this world.

She stared at him, just pushing back at him a little and he stared back at her and grin.

She came.

“You came?”

“Yes, but continued. This is so heavenly. I’ll come again big when you come.”

“Do you like being squirted over your tits?”

“I love having my tits squirted. You are such a good lover.”

Panting Bruno managed, “Are we to do this often?”

“At least three times a day don’t you think… err when I’m not working?”

At that Bruno pulled out his jerking cock, having already come when inside her; he managed to jerk off the condom in time for his second ejaculation to spray her belly, tits and face.

He grinned. “You excited me.”

“Ah very good,” Della said, scooping his semen and licking her fingers, watching his eyes widen. “I haven’t climaxed yet. Get yourself ready to go at it again.”

Bruno’s smile turned into a leer.

Later that afternoon Bruno was invited to move into the main suite with Della.


Chapter 3

The agency began to sign up more clients but progress was slower than expected. Douglas and Jerry examined the business model with a consultant but they couldn’t detect anything amiss. Della appeared to be behaving immaculately.

When Della took Bruno to her aunt and uncle’s apartment to introduce him, Roy complained, “We are still waiting for our first complimentary tickets to a major function.”

“Business is slow,” Della explained. “The take-up is well behind expectations and I guess my position with the agency is in doubt. So far, I’ve only attracted three billings but one of those has rebooked for next month. I was disappointed I failed to attract much attention in the media.”

Celia looked thoughtful. “This is New York darling, if you want publicity you have to pull the bell rope. Would you like me to pass an anonymous tip to one of the Sunday newspapers that you are living with your minder?”

Bruno said, “Go on Della and say yes. It just might work.”

“And I would be known as a slut and you could be fired from your agency.”

Bruno smiled. “Make it a condition of confirming the story that the name of my security agency is published in the story. If the publicity takes off, my bosses will love me.”

“All right. Do it Celia. Here’s my phone number. Usually I don’t work mornings.”


The article was published on page 3 and was disappointingly small. But it worked. Della and Bruno were watching the TV news on Sunday evening and the last item under the heading ‘Big Apple Gossip’ flashed up the photo from the Sunday paper showing Della and Bruno at their gym, Della scantily dressed and looking a million dollars was held by a muscular arm against Bruno’s wide and hairless chest.

“It seems our city’s Million Dollar advertising super model Della Duvall is no longer reading away lonely nights. To the rescue has bounded her great looking super hero from Ace Personal Security 24/7. His name is Bruno Baker and girls wouldn’t you feel secure and wanted under the protection of a sensational hunk like this? Don’t they just make an adorable couple?”

“Omigod, I’m now to be known as New York’s Super Slut,” Della wailed.

“This is unbelievable… they used my employer’s name on TV. Have you any idea how many million people watch this network?”

“Probably between two and three million people and they all now know I’m a slut.”

“Oh, baby don’t be sad. Come to daddy. Let’s wait and judge the results by the outcomes eh. We may be surprised.”

Della was so emotional and that evening she gave her ass to Bruno for the first time.


Maggie called at 8:30 when Bruno had just lowered a cum-splattered Della into the bath.

“You’ve done it!”


“Broken through the barrier. You are no longer a beautiful young American-born woman from England. You are now one of the most desirable young celebrities in New York.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I saw you and Bruno’s story in the Sunday paper and on TV last night and I thought either this is going to be a disaster or the shot in the butt we so desperately need for your advertising role. Well it’s exploded… New York loves you.”

“What, how do you know?”

“We already had had twenty-two courier deliveries for you ranging from bouquets to invitations, there is a sack of mail for your and 623 emails at the last count and rising. These are all people with a sudden interest in you.”

“As soon as Jerry comes in I’m asking to be taken off my regular job temporarily to be your fulltime agent. We must be exploiting this while it lasts honey. Oh, what have we here? Ah, four tickets to the New York Mother of the Year Awards dinner. Count me out on that darling.”


Della had finished filming for a client at 2:45 when Maggie arrived in the studio.

“Jerry is unbelievably delighted in you for making all this happen. You need to go to your beautician at 4:00 because you are on Meet the Media on TV at 7:00.”

“Oh, they want to dissect what makes a slut?”

Maggie looked puzzled.

“Whatever are you going on about darling? The theme will be ‘A new star is rising’. The TV station is already promoting that every half hour at the start of ad breaks. You on the move to make millions of dollars for us as planned. Thank god you had the initiative to do something to attract media attention. We were all trying to think of ways of doing that but none of us thought about sex.”

Della called Celia.

“Your idea to get me into the Sunday newspaper has worked Celia. I’m on TV tonight.”

“I know, they are running a promo about it. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks. I really owe you big on this one Celia.”

“Rubbish a girl can help her niece without payment or expect a return of favor.”

“Are you free on the 15th of next month?”

“Just a moment… yes.”

“I have some complimentary tickets to a dinner – would you and Roy accompany Bruno and me?”

“Yes, we’d be delighted. What is the event?”

“Something called New York Mother of the Year Awards dinner.”

Celia spluttered into her phone.

“Ohmigod darling, those tickets are like gold. That entire show is pre-sold and has been so for years. It’s on the top ten of the social calendar. Omigod, my friends are going to be so envious.”

“Well I’m buying you a new gown of your choice and you are to disregard price. Have it made if you wish.”

“Oh darling,” Celia sobbed.


Maggie rushed in to the salon where Della was getting her hair done.

“The producer of Meet the Media wants you to agree to demonstrate your skill at selling. The bitch added if you had any such skill. They want you to attempt to sell on TV a motor scooter that has been in the New York City Police Department's Auto Pound for seven years. Why it hasn’t been scrapped no one knows. The producer has secured written authority to sell the vehicle and donate the proceeds to charity. Will you do it?”


“Good girl darling,” Maggie said, kissing Della and hauled out her phone.

Near the end of the Meet the Media segment the presenter said they’d take an ad break during which time their guest Della Duvall would change and come on and offer a derelict item for sale to demonstrate the pull of her selling power.

Viewers who wanted to bid to buy the product had two hours until 10:00 that evening to lodge their bid to purchase the item.

The program returned showing a rusty, dented motor scooter on screen.

The presenter said the abandoned vehicle had been in the New York City Police Department's Auto Pound for seven years. No one knew why it hadn’t been sent to the crusher. “We think this scooter is unsaleable but Della said rubbish.”

Della arrived on stage in impossible short shorts, a Stars and Stripes top and obviously braless, a top hat and carrying a cane.

“Ladies and gentlemen. We are selling this item tonight. The reserve price is twenty dollars but if you want it you’ll have to pay more. It will go to the highest bidder and we’ll have it delivered to your door without charge. The purchaser’s price will be donated in full to S.A.V.E. Animal Rescue. Note the details running at the bottom of your screen and the number to call us here.”

Della sat on the scooter. “I’m glad I’m not wearing a dress because you would then see my panties. The seat is worn but comfortable. Some hoodlum has wrenched off the two side mirrors and a mechanic has told us the tires are perishing and the motor has seized.”

“Well I didn’t have my first kiss on this scooter because I’ve never sat on it before tonight. It wasn’t a gangster’s get-away vehicle because there’s nowhere to store the guns and ammo. In fact, we have no history about this vehicle at all. Did John F Kennedy ride it to the Irish Bar years before he became president? Did Marilyn Monroe sit astride it and ride to Yankee Stadium? Who knows?”

“All I can say is you heard these people from the media quizzing me about why am I becoming a star and I said it’s because I look good and have a great voice. I noticed none of them drew attention to my legs and my boobs. Well that’s it. Buy this vehicle, set it in concrete and proudly attach a sign with your name that says: ‘I purchased this hapless motor scooter from rising star Della Duvall who offered it to some poor sucker when appearing on National TV’ and don’t forget to add the date to your plaque. Good night every-one.”

The media people were rolling around laughing and the presenter stood shaking her head smiling and the credits rolled.

On the late news that evening the network announced that an art collector in Chicago named Larry Irons had lodged the highest price of $799.99 and would cement the vehicle in the foyer of his gallery with the plaque worded as Della had suggested.

Della had stayed on at the TV station listening to people calling in and talking to many of them for a few seconds. Just over 300 people called and newspaper photographers took photos of Della talking to Mr Irons at 10:10 advising him of his successful purchase. The call was recorded and Mr Irons invited Della and companion at his expense to go to Chicago to unveil his purchase as the ‘most unusual item on display and to me one of my most emotionally appealing purchases… as well as the cheapest’.

Bruno said on the cab ride home that his boss Francis of Ace Personal Security 24/7 had called and the directors were regarding him as a hero.

“Francis said the phones have been running hot and she’d lined up eight new clients in the past seven hours. She says you’ve given the company a new image.”

They went into the bar at their hotel for a quiet drink and when they were seated Della saw Bruno become tense.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, relax.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Bruno took a deep breath. “Those two guys at the bar… they recognize you.”


“They mean trouble.”

“How can you tell?”

“They keep glancing our way and have their heads together whispering.”

“They might like your tie. It is flashy.”

“Don’t look at them again Della. Don’t get scared and allow me to handle this.”

“We should go.”

“What and let them hustle us into elevator where we have no way out?”

“What do you want me to do? I was often hassled at university so know some counter measures.”

“If there is a confrontation you slip around that larger table and out into the foyer and scream help.”


“Aren’t you going to argue?”

“No, you are my security adviser.”

“Holy hell!”

Their drinks arrived. Della stared at Bruno who was staring at the two guys. Eventually he said, “Here they come. They are together rather than spread apart so they’re amateurs.”

“Do you have a gun?”

“Yes, but if I draw it, it means a couple of hours pleading justification to the cops here and down at the precinct.”

“Good thinking.”

“Stand up,” Bruno said, standing up and pushing his chair back.

The larger guy ignored Bruno and said, “Hi beautiful lady. We saw you on TV tonight. My pal and I would like you to ditch this guy and come with us.”

“No thank you. Please leave us.”

“No way baby, you’re coming with us.”

The guy’s face suddenly spurted blood and he fell. Della realized Bruno had hit him.

The other guy bent over his fallen pal crying out, “Brucie.”

The bar tender was on the phone and suddenly a hotel security guy with a baton was in the room coming across to them.

“We are making no complaint. Those two guys were attempting to take me away for a night on the town but my minder prevented that from happening.”

“I understand Miss Duvall. I suggest you leave for your room. I’ll have these undesirables removed from these premises,” he said, pulling out a radio.

Bruno, who hadn’t spoken, took Della’s arm and led her away. “You did good.”

“The correct way to say that is I did well.”



Della was in the bath and Bruno went out for a few minutes. He arrived back twenty minutes later and said, “We shift in the morning. The hotel has some very much more secure suites for VIPs. We’re taking one of them. That agency will just have a bigger bill to pay.”

“Grab my phone darling. I’ll call Maggie’s desk phone and relay what has just happened and what action we have taken to protect me better. That will start wheels in motion when she clears her phone calls. Are you ready to fuck? I’m all hyped up after that incident; the bath didn’t relax me at all.”

That was the last relatively leisurely day Della would have for a long time. Magazine interviews, a special guest on TV shows and speaking engagements followed. Their social life became crammed and a week later she flew on assignment to the Swiss Alps and then to Dublin, Ireland for another filming assignment.

She had two days at home with her family, introducing Bruno, and then they went to a loch in the highlands on a promotion of a brand of single malt Scotch whisky.

They were now very much lovers. Della was in love with Bruno and felt he more than liked her. It wasn’t all about sex and security. It was amazing how they just liked being together and built on their relationship by conversing, initially neither of them believing they had much in common and limited interest in one another.

Della and Bruno arrived late for the Mother of the Year dinner, missing cocktails and arriving just as the last people were being seated for dinner.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the presenter. “I have just noticed the arrival of super ad model Della Duvall with her escort Bruno Baker. Miss Duvall had called through apologizing for lateness as they’ve just flown in from the Whistler ski-field out of Vancouver, Canada, where Miss Duvall was modeling a new ski suit for an Italian company that markets its products worldwide.”

People clapped and several called “Speech.”

“Miss Duvall, it seems there are some here who’d like to hear from you. Please come forward and say a few words.”

“Omigod, this is a great honor for you,” said Celia, almost purring in pleasure.

“Good evening folk – are you having a great time?”

“Yes!” came the chorus, a virtual ear-numbing cacophony.

“I apologize for my unkempt appearance. We are straight off the aircraft after a mad dash down the mountain from the glorious Whistler Resort. The airline held the flight to allow us to board so a 5-hour shoot and six hours’ travel, it’s been a long day but a memorable one.”

“My congratulations are made in advance to Mother of the Year who’ll be named this evening from these five finalists sitting at this table behind me with officials. What a wonderful tradition it is to have the spotlight placed on mothers of distinction in this manner.

All of us have or had a mother and although my mom is in England right now I’m here with her sister Mrs Celia Brixton, who is acting as my guardian while I’m living and working in America. She is just as excited as I am to be here for this wonderful occasion that in a way salutes all mothers.”

 “Thank you for this opportunity to speak sir and to you Madam President, Mrs Ida Moses. This event is of great credit to you and fellow organizers. Enjoy your evening everyone.”

People clapped as Della returned to her table.

Celia was beside herself in excitement when Della sat down. “You mentioned my name to all these people here, many of whom are famous in society.”

“You deserved to be mentioned Celia. I trust you kept your hands off Bruno while I was off speaking?”

Celia spluttered into her wine glass but no one noticed.

“Christ Della.” Celia whispered. “I can’t imagine you returning to live in an English village.”

At that Della turned quite thoughtful.

“Perhaps you’re right. I might get an offer or two as my contract nears end of term. I think I have outgrown rural England.”


A few nights later Della phone Celia and after an hour’s idle chat asked to speak to Roy.

“Hi I can get two extra tickets to the annual game in Dallas of the New York Giants against the Dallas Cowboys. I’ve not seen American football and so Bruno and I are going. If you wish to accompany us let me know and if Celia doesn’t want to go, bring a pal. Make sure you tell her we’ll be feted.”

“What’s that?”

“Just tell her.”

Celia apparently grabbed the phone off Roy. “Yes, we’ll come. You must tell me what to wear.”

“I’ll find out. We are being hosted by the wife of some Texan big shot.”


“I don’t know. The invitation was handled by Maggie.”

“Give me Maggie’s phone number. Oh, Della, don’t you realize what this is?”

“A football game.”

“Football? No, it’s my entry into high society in Texas.”


*  *  *

A small photo with brief caption published in the Dallas Morning News that celebrity model Della Duvall would be among VIPs attending the Dallas Cowboys-Giants game in Dallas, caught to attention of the PR team responsible for promoting the State Fair of Texas in September.

A call was made to New York that eventually resulted in Maggie signing up Della to go to Dallas for a photo shoot and to return to appear at the state fair on the first Sunday evening of its run that attracts annual attendances exceeding three million people.

Della and Bruno took Celia with them to Dallas where they stayed two nights. Della of course had to be fitted-out for the publicity shots and wanted to have Celia taken around the city but Celia decided to see what was involved in Della’s work.

They returned to the hotel the first evening and she was too tired to go out to eat.

“Omigod, all that sitting around and fitting of your clothes until your Levi’s were so tight you couldn’t even sit down.”

“Well it’s what they wanted and the shirt was also shrunk to fit every curve and my white Stetson is also too tight.”

“Oh, you poor darling,” Celia yawned. She napped before dinner while Bruno and Della tired themselves out by having bawdy sex in their suite with its foaming spa pool in their bedroom.

Celia was even more tuckered out next day after the tedium of the photo shoot.

“Why do they take so long and then confer all the time?”

Della told Celia, “Because they want to get the best possible effects that match the client’s expectations. In other words, they seek perfection.”

“What was wrong with the first of those 100 shots. It looked perfect.”

“I had a shadow under my nose. The second shot showed a light reflection in my left eye. And so, it continued. Actually, there were only twenty-seven series of shots, in groupings of five to seven exposures. The filming we do tomorrow morning before we fly home will not be so involved. Back in New York, I’ll attend to riding school to learn to ride at a walk with a straight back and holding the reins in one hand. I’m to ride in the parade. You and Roy are welcome to accompany Bruno and me on the visit – I’ll be happy to pay.”

“We simply cannot…”

“Of course, you can. Yes or no Celia?”

“Yes please. That is very generous.”

“Celia you’re my guardian. Besides, you did more than all of us put together to kick-start my career.”


Back in New York Della was asked by Maggie to call the perfume guy Laurence Powell.

“Hi Della. I’d said I would take you sailing but have been in South America sorting out agency problems. The five of us are going out to near the anchorage by chopper from LaGuardia a 4:00 Friday afternoon. You can bring your minder if you wish but my two sons and I can offer you all the protection you need and once on the water there should be no problem.”

“Just me then. Bruno could do with some time off.”

“I’ll call by your hotel at 3:00 and will call as we approach.”


Bruno was pleased to have the weekend free to catch up with some pals. “This Laurence… will he wish to have sex with you?”

“Possibly. How do you feel about that?”

Protect yourself. I’ll do the same if I meet an old flame.”

“That’s a lovely attitude Bruno. I haven’t been sailing for years so am looking forward to this.”

*  *

Della saw the black Cadillac saloon arrive and by the time she’d walked out to it pulling her travel bag the family was lined up on the sidewalk.

“This is my wife Val,” Laurence said proudly. Val looked twenty years his junior.

“How very nice to meet you, Val. Please call me Della and you too guys.”

She kissed Val and then kissed Paul who looked about eighteen and then Daniel who looked to be approaching thirty.”

“Daniel and I are almost the same age; I’m Laurence’s third wife.”

“I guessed second wife,” Della smiled as Daniel took her bag. “Lined up like that you looked a lovely family.”

Val colored happily and touched Della’s arm.

“All aboard guys, we have a chopper to catch and this is Friday traffic.”

At the airport, Daniel asked, “Have you flown in a chopper before Della?”

“About twice a week at present because of my busy schedule,” she said.

“What do you do?”

“Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that, involving camera work.”

Laurence squirmed.

He said for his sons from his first two marriages, “You guys I’m sorry. I just introduced our guest as Della to keep the pressure off her so she can have a relaxing weekend. Della is the international model Della Duvall.”

“So?” Daniel said. “I knew she was someone with a face and body like she has.”

“What do you model?”

“This and that Paul. I’m really a presenter rather than a model. I’ve not trained as a model and would be a little too large anyway.”

“Yeah you have breasts.”

“Sorry, that was being personal,” Paul said, breaking the brief silence.

Val smiled. “I knew who you were as soon as I saw you walking from the hotel. I’ve seen you several times in TV, in magazines and you are the present face of Ascenseur perfume.”

“Here’s our call, let’s go out to our chopper,” Laurence said. “Our boat is at Fishers Island at the eastern end of Long Island Sound.”

Laurence used a local sailor as skipper and when they boarded, the big yacht was ready to go.  Val introduced Della as Della to Harry. The white-headed wrinkled-faced guy smiled and said, “It is an honor to meet you Miss Duvall.”

“You know Della?” Val asked in surprise.

“First time I’ve met her but I like what I see. There’s a big poster of Miss Duvall in our billiards room at the club advertising Black Heart Rum. Someone attached her name and vital statistics.”

Della colored. “Sail into sunny weather Harry and you’ll sight those statistics in a bikini.”

Della was given the forward stateroom with its queen size bed and own head (bathroom). There were two single cabins on one side leading back to the saloon and the main head, doubles beyond that for the skipper and the two crew and then the owner’s stateroom at the stern.

“This is lovely Val.”

“You think so. Then come through and see our stateroom. It’s one of the reasons I married Laurence,” she giggled.

It was large and sumptuous, lined in teak and complete with a big TV screen to play videos… “Sexy videos,” Val giggled.

The weekend was leisurely and friendly and Della felt really relaxed. After lunch on Saturday Della was fishing over the stern with Daniel. The other three were resting or reading, perhaps dozing. Friday night had been a heavy drinking night.

“Are you married?”

“Yes,” Daniel said in surprise. “I thought Val would have told you.”

“Not a word.”

“Debra wanted to go to a concert tonight with girlfriends. I think it’s good she gets away from me occasionally.”

“That’s liberal thinking.”

“Thanks, and how liberal are you Della?”

“Ooh, I best not answer that,” she laughed, and placed her arm around Daniel’s shoulder for a second.

“Keep it there unless you hear Val coming.”

“No, it was just a friendly gesture.”

“To indicate you’re interested?”

“I guess so. Eeeek. Is that a bite?”

“No, you have a fish. Steady, I’ll tell you what to do.”


Over dinner Della was asked about what it had been like growing up in England, knowing she was American.

“I really didn’t know I was American for sure until I was about nine. I had known mom spoke American and was American but I guess with dad speaking like everyone else around us I thought he was English like me.”

Della asked Harry about being a professional skipper and had he done any real blue water sailing. He told them he used to winter on the West Coast and had often sailed to Hawaii but told them in detail about sailing the 84ft yacht in a delivery voyage from San Diego to Sydney.

“There were five of us on board. My crew were the owner’s wife and three of her girlfriends, all married. They’d sailed together since they were youngsters and that meant I was in good hands. They missed their husbands but soon found they had me.”

“You mean you had group sex with them?” Paul asked wide-eyed.

“Paul your mom would appreciate you saying did I go to bed with any of them.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. I arrived back home 21 pounds lighter than when I’d sailed out of San Diego.”

“Didn’t those broads feed you well?”

“Err more vegetables for anyone,” Val said quickly. “Paul go and cut more beef in the galley. Be careful with the electric knife.”

The adults grinned as he walked off. Della said, “Is he late maturing?”

“God Della give him a chance. He only turned seventeen three weeks ago.”

“Oh. I would have picked him for eighteen or nineteen.”

“Well he isn’t. There’s a ten-year gap between the boys.”

Daniel grinned. “I’m old enough to know how Harry lost all that beef during his voyage… doing it four times a day would take the weight off anyone.”

“What all four and four times a day?” Laurence asked.

“Could we give this a rest,” Val giggled. “It’s making me hot.”


It was a hot night. The men decided to play cards. Val announce she and Della were going off to talk over a couple of quiet drinks.

She locked the door.

“Do you want to do it?”

“Okay but I haven’t done it with a female since I was at university.”

“There’s not much for forget,” Val giggled, hauling off her top and dropping her skirt to be left standing nude.

“Will Laurence mind?”

“No, he’s used to it and knows I’m extra sexy when I go to him.”

The two women were into a sixty-nine-chewing pussy, Della on top, when Val took a breather to declare, “This is the most exquisite peach I’ve ever encounter.”

She hit Della’s clit with her tongue to and immediately had her face creamed.

They parted after an hour. Della had napped and was tossing when she felt someone slip in beside her and with relief heard Daniel’s voice.

“Is this okay?”

Della didn’t answer. Instead she threw back the sheet and rolled on to Daniel and sunk her mouth over his erection.


Feeling the cock thickening Della spat it out. “You can fuck me Daniel but take care not to mark me. I’m off to promote an international resort in the Caribbean in a few days and will be filmed in a bikini.”


He actually began conversing as they lined up. Della was pleased about that and to find he was good. When they rested, he said, “Della I was wondering… um your ass. My wife can’t stomach it.”

“Okay, because I find you’re a great size for the butt, not too big. Work me with your fingers and then soak us in pussy juice. I don’t have lube with me.”

He was so gentle that Della was ready to scream for it by the time he began shafting her.

Afterwards Della wanted to tell Daniel that had been one of her best butt-fucks ever but thought that might harm his relationship with her cunt-and-tits-only wife. Daniel had also said she didn’t like a cock in her mouth.

Near morning after Della shook Daniel awake for another fuck she said he should get his wife to suck him when she was drunk.

“She might be mad at me next morning.”

“Just apologize but make sure you get it going whenever she is drunk. With luck, it could become habit-forming. Shoot over her tits instead of down her throat.”

“I could also try the same system with butt-fucking.”

“Yes. but get fellatio going first. And get her used to a finger in the ass and then later a second finger before you place her hand around your erection when she’s drunk and it’s hovering over her ass. Let her make the decision and if she begins pulling it into her butt she’ll know next morning she was a naughty girl rather than you being a foul sonofabitch.”

“That’s amazing advice, really amazing advice,” Daniel puffed, building up tempo in preparation to emptying into Della.


Chapter 4

Waving goodbye to the family, Della went up to the secure suite to find Bruno soaking in the spa bath. Dell thought although she’d been fucked during the weekend neither Val nor Daniel could get her going like Bruno could. He was quite masterful.

She undressed and joined him.

“What is this, no erection to begin standing to greet me as usual?”

“It got heavily whacked last night.”

“Oooh tell me,” Della said, cuddling him after they’d kissed.

“My sister’s best friend was staying with her. She came into my room during the night but only wanted to be ass-fucked.”

“Then my sister came in, catching us at it, and so I had to ass-fuck her.”

“Oh, you lucky boy but how foul, your own sister.”

“Well it was part research; rumor is she is one of the best ass-fuckers around.”

“Oooh. And is she?”

“She’s not as good as mom.”

“Christ Bruno…”

“Calm down,” he laughed, catching the slapping hand before it hit him. “I was just winding you up. That’s simply not true but it’s true that Maxine is very, very good.”

“Oh, but I still don’t think you should be fucking your sister.”

“Neither do I actually. Perhaps you better hit me.”

“No, just say you’re sorry and won’t do it again.”

“I’m sorry and I promise it won’t happen again between Maxine and me.”

“Good boy.” Della then told Bruno about being fucked by Daniel.

“Wow you gave him full treatment including the ass. Was he good?”

“Very good but you are the best.”

Bruno smirked.

Della decided not to tell me about having sex with Val. He might not understand and beside he might label that as being undesirable sex, worse than straight adultery.

“You soak away. I’m going out to buy beef and other things and make you an English dish called roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.”

“Sound’s a horrible way to fuck up good beef.”

“Watch your mouth buster. Not everything about the English is idiotic.”


Della drooled over her dinner while Bruno conceded it was okay.

“It’s like sex. Try it a few times and it becomes habit-forming and even more enjoyable.”

Bruno eyed her with doubt in his eyes, making Della giggle.

When they had cleared away and were attacking the second bottle of light red wine she asked a curly question. “Where is our relationship heading?”

Della was leaning against Bruno and he almost bucked her away in shock.

“What? No don’t answer that. I heard what you said. Please elaborate.”

“I’m having a lovely time living with you darling but have to ask, where is it heading. Am I in a relationship that will neither blow up nor mature?”

“The only way relationships can mature is… is….”

“Yes Bruno. Is the word too difficult for you?”


“Oooh. Good boy. In case you think you are too young to marry, remember you turn thirty next month. I bet at least half the guys of thirty you know are married.”

“At least half.”

“And which half do you think are the happiest group, the married or the unmarried guys.”

“The unmarried guys, undoubtedly.”

“Well that’s thinking about them as a group in a bar or chasing down some slut. Let me rephrase the question. “Which do you think are the happiest group 24/7.”

“Oh, that’s not fair.”

“Yes, it is and think of waking up under a bridge with a huge hangover and pants wet with pee or trying to cook a meal and then trash it as being inedible?”

“The guys who are married who can drink in the warmth of their own home and go to bed and fuck undisturbed and in a pleasant environment and have roast beef and Yorkshire pudding on Sunday.”

“Oh darling, you’re not just a pretty face, are you? As the result of me confronting you like this are you going to seek a negotiated exit from this contract with a request to be reassigned?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I enjoy my work, you are the best client I’ve ever had, we live like kings, fuck at the drop of a hat… oh Christ, what am I saying?”

“Talking like a married man I should think. Sleep in the other room tonight and think about who are you, where are your heading and where you’d like to be. I’m off to bed.”

“Without me?”

“Yes, weren’t you listening?”

“We don’t need to fuck since you are in this mood.”

“Good night Bruno. Go to your room and be a good boy.”


Bruno was up and dressed ready for the gym when Della came out next morning. He jumped up and kissed her and hugged her warmly.


“I missed you all weekend and especially last night. Just then I was scared you’d push me away?”

“Why would I do that Bruno?”

“I don’t know. Men know women can act strangely at times.”

As they jogged to the gym Della said, “I enjoyed being away from you at the weekend but by god I was delighted to find you at home. I seemed to become a whole person again.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s very good.”

On the stationary bikes at the gym Bruno said, “I thought about life without you last night and I almost crapped.”

“Yuck so why was that?”

“My life would be empty.”


“I reached a conclusion.”

“Oh yes.”

“That our future together depends on you getting a permanent or at least a semi-permanent position when your current contract terminates. Otherwise we couldn’t enjoy the standard of life we are presently experiencing.”

Della laughed.

Bruno said crossly, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not. I was delighted you told me that because I’m of the same opinion.”

Bruno replaced the light scowl with a big grin. “I’m delighted about that. It makes us mercenary.”

“Oooh, that’s a complicated way of expressing it.”

“It’s a military term.”

“Well it can be… oh I see, you were in the military. It describes us beautifully… motivated by the desire for monetary or material gain. In our case, it’s both. Had you any more major thoughts?”

“I wondered about studying online for a college degree.”

“Would you like to do that?”


“I also had a thought about buying a business and placing you in charge.”

Showing interest Bruno asked, “What sort of business?”

“I thought a coffee house and then I thought flowers and then I thought you might like to be the boss of a brothel but thought your family would give that the thumbs down. Then I thought a business that would help people to feel more secure in their homes, especially their apartments by having their doors strengthened and windows and even the construction of an inner sanctum virtually impervious to attack by intruders.”

“What like a strong room?”

“Yes, it could be bolted into concrete top and bottom and perhaps even to a sidewall in the built-in wardrobe in the guest room or be like a dummy cupboard in the laundry in larger apartments.”

Bruno’s eyes were flickering with interest.

“Let me have a think about that and do research on the Internet. That could be just the thing many people need, especially little old ladies with plenty of money and frightened of their own shadow. There would have to be an overlaying security system to ensure weirdoes don’t lock themselves in to commit suicide.”

“Good thinking. That could be a radio or telephone alarm back to your business office. You could derive income from that service line and six-monthly service checks by your technicians.”

“God, you should be in business.”

“Oooh thank you. But I think while my appearance looks good I should use it together with my good voice and fertile brain.”

Bruno said he couldn’t have expressed that better himself bit.

Della doubted that. Thinking back since the time they’d come together, she realized just how more confident and willing to express himself more expansively and more sophisticated in style Bruno had become. Good boy with more to come.

Della organized to lunch with Mr Rossi at one of his clubs. When she called, she asked that he tell Mrs Rossi of the planned lunch because she didn’t want any misunderstanding.

“What at my age? You have to be joking,” he laughed. “I’ll mention it.”

Mr Rossi arrived in his chauffeured limo as Della waited at the entrance, having just arrived in a cab. She thought how far she’d progressed in society, knowing people like Mr Rossi. He took her arm and inside asked Della to sign in. They went to the bar and she had juice and he had an Italian aperitif.

“I mentioned to Eleanora you wanted to meet me and she said it would be important, that I was to commit to offer my best help.”

“That was very generous of Mrs Rossi. Please give her my kindest regards and please feel free to tell her about anything I say to you.”

“Good. Tell me what have you been doing of late?”

They chatted and over the main course at lunch Mr Rossi said, “Now is a good time for business. Forgive me for saying this but is it you want more money?”

“Oh, no Mr Rossi. I wish to stay in New York after my contract ends. I have been working for fourteen months now and bookings are beginning to tail off. To be frank I thought this would have occurred after nine months, but no so.”

“You have don brilliantly young lady. To be equally frank, my board was very dubious about this initiative but it has worked beyond budget. It is the most successful marketing initiative we have ever launched and by far.”

“Maggie who is acting as my agent says exposure is setting in. There are potential clients now saying I have been over-exposed.”

“But you would have expected that to happen.”

“Yes, and my concern is no apparent future awaits me.”

“And you would like to help find you a patron?”

“Um that is very kind. But I would prefer using my skills and natural attributes to establish a commercial career when I’m required to earn my money like everyone else.”

“Well in that case finding you some avenues shouldn’t be too difficult. Would you mind if I ask Eleanora to assist?”

“But if you ask she would be offended because she wasn’t asked to lunch.”

Mr Rossi laughed. My Eleanora is not thin-skinned. Beside she really likes you; I could say adores you. She has used the term angelic about you.”

“I sensed I impressed her but Mr Rossi I have become commercially hardened since I last met Mrs Rossi and I live with a man without being married to him.”

“Eleanora lived with me for three years before we married. What do you think she is, a woman without passion?”

“Oh, god no Mr Rossi, not at all. I would think she can breathe fire.”

Mr Rossi smiled, his teeth showing.

As they left the restaurant his car was at the door. Della was dropped off outside her hotel. All Mr Rossi said, kissing her on the cheeks, “My personal assistant will be in touch. Thank you for your most charming company. I’ll remember this one as a good lunch.”

* *

Bruno had often told Della it would happen when she least expected it. Later that afternoon they were on Fifth Avenue window shopping when a guy with a handgun stepped in front of Della, pointing a pistol at her.

“You glamorous bitch. You are promoting cosmetics tested on animals until they die in some instances. I’m going to disfigure you.”

“Omigod,” Bruno called, letting go Della’s arm as people around them scattered. He looked across the street wide-eyed. When the assailant, taken by surprise, turned to look Bruno chopped down on the guy’s gun hand, snapping bones in the guy’s wrist. He then hit the guy on the top of his head with a fist and the assailant crumbled. Camera flashlights were going off and people were shouting “Help police.”

Two plainclothes policemen arrived almost instantly, holding out their ID’s. They told Della and Bruno to stay where they were. One radioed for a patrol car and the other cornered three witnesses who claimed to have seen and heard it all. A cop car arrived with only lights flashing and minutes later an ambulance siren was heard.


A woman shouted, “Oh it’s Della Duvall.”

“Della Duvall,” called women pushing closer and a guy with a cam recorder said, “Oh god, I’ll get thousands from CBS for this tape. He disappeared and one of the cops called, “Where’s that guy; we want the tape.”

Everyone stood looking as if they’d seen and heard nothing.

When Della and Bruno emerged from the Police Precinct, the press awaited them.

“Miss Duvall, what was your reaction?”

Flash lights were going off and microphones were held out.

“I was scared shitless. That ape threatened to disfigure me.”

“Was he representing Animal Rights?”

“How would I know? I’ve never seen him before. He needed a shave and a shower. He had BO.”

“What were your thoughts?”

“Bruno please save me.”

“And did he?”

“Yes miss, and isn’t he a darling, Della said, half turning to stroke Bruno’s face, a breast pushing forward tautly. The media grinned, knowing a posed picture when they saw one.

The flashlights were shooting off repeatedly and TV cameras were fixed on the couple.

“Bruno, you live with Miss Duvall, right?”


“Were you afraid?”

“Why would I be? He was going to gun butt Della’s face, not mine.”


“Listen, one lone guy is only half a threat. I’d be afraid if it was a group preparing to attack or attacking. One security guy can only do so much.”

“Are you armed?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you draw and kill the swine?”

“What and spend twelve hours attempting to convince police that protection was my only motive and then being taken to court because the guy hadn’t fired first and harmed my client.”

“What now Miss Duvall?”

“Life goes on. I think Bruno and I need a stiff drink. Thanks guys. Please use the name of the company I work for if you use any of this.”

When they were nursing whisky cocktails, Della said, “Thanks hugely and I mean that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Despite what you say I was expecting it. I’m always expecting it but even so he was suddenly just there.”

“Had he decided to throw acid you could have been blinded, never seeing him.”

“I know. It’s such a bummer being a celebrity.”

“It was your choice.”

“Yes, but I never thought I’d be instantly recognizable to people on the street and they’d rush in to save me; instead the people just gaped. Life sucks at times.”

“Careful, you are sounding like an ordinary person with an everyday load on her back.”

“Well said Bruno; cheers.”

They watched the video on CBS that evening. The guy who took it was really on the ball. He’d caught the moment just before Bruno had let go of Della’s arm to begin his deceptive ploy. There was too much background noise to hear the bones crunch.

Della’s phone went. It was Celia. She was crying.

“Oh darling, are you still in hospital.”

“No, Bruno and I are watching TV before going out to dinner.”

“But you will be suffering trauma?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for your call darling. I have more calls waiting.”

Della took calls from Maggie and Mrs Rossi and then turned her phone off after putting on a message to say she was quite okay after the 5th Avenue incident and had gone out to dinner.”

“Why would Mrs Rossi call you?” Bruno asked.

“Because she thinks I’m angelic.”

“Who you?” Bruno said, and receiving ‘The Look’ hastened to say Mrs Rossi was quite right.

*  *

Mr Rossi’s first contact to interview Della about a permanent position was a shipping company providing a container service all around the America’s and into the Great Lakes. The position was assistant head of public affairs and she’d be paid handsomely, very handsomely indeed, to head a delegation to approach targeted potential clients.

Bruno was all for it but Della was hesitant and he said to reject the opportunity. She took his advice.

Four more noes followed. Della called Mr Rossi and he said it was fine. They probably could come up with a hundred possibilities.

The fifth proposal took Della by storm. She went to the offices of one of the TV networks that proposed to launch a new show in three months’ time called This Is My New York. It would run every weekday evening 7:00 to 7:30.

Dan O’Rourke, the vice-president in charge of the project said, “We haven’t coddled agreement on the presenter but I’ve suggested you as the presenter and have received unanimous approval, almost everyone using the word ‘Perfect.”

“I know next to nothing about TV.”

“We can fix that.”

“What if I wanted a two-week break?’

“You can take three breaks a year. We’ll pre-record. It’s the kind of program that allows that, being magazine type.”

“So, I front but don’t do the interviews.”

“Yes, no legwork for you. We’d like you to help manage presentation choices because we believe you have native instinct.”

“You mean naive instinct?”

Dan grinned and other people in the room laughed.

“No I mean native… well instinctive. We have done our research on this. You have a big following and look what you did when working on the State Fair of Texas promo – it was novel, worked and was entirely your idea.”

“A fluke.”

“Miss Duvall, we have a thick dossier on you. I can’t recall reading anything that was labeled a fluke.”

“If I accept am I to be called Miss Duvall?”



“Because in America big stars who are women are addressed formerly.”

“What say I say I don’t like it?”


Della grinned. “Well, you are ahead of yourself. I’m not a star.”

Dan smiled and shook his head. You are not a TV presenter Miss Duvall but an independent research poll has almost nine percent of TV viewers listing you as their favorite TV presenter. You occupy 37th position nationally and yet you don’t feature on TV as a presenter, only in TV interviews and in advertisements.”


Dan grinned. “My reaction was holy shit.”

“Please send me a formal proposal. I’m very interested.”

“Great and what about salary?”

“What about it?”

“What do you want as salary, starting from the day your contract is signed?”

Della smiled. “Don’t mess me about Dan. I want $2 million for the 16-week season or there will be no deal.”

“We don’t wish to have you seen as being under-paid Miss Duvall. Your starting salary for this start-up program is budgeted at $3 million. I’m sorry but you are required to accept.”

She grinned.

Dan grinned.

“Send me the formal proposal Dan. I must run. I have a hair appointment before I speak at a VIP luncheon in three hours’ time.”

Della walked to the foyer and called Bruno who was across the street sitting over his third cup of coffee.

He left the table, Della saw him and went outside. She saw the exasperated look as he waved her back inside to wait for him there as part of their procedure. She turned and was walking back inside when she heard squealing tires, a horn blast and a thump.

“Oh, some poor sod has been thumped,” she said lapsing into English-English. And then it was ‘Omigod’ because the stopped courier vehicle was exactly where Bruno would have been crossing.

“Oh no,” Della cried, racing to the scene.


Bruno died in hospital almost two hours later, never recovering conscious. Distressed Della cancelled all appointments and everyone was sympathetic and understanding. She went home to Celia. Her mom and dad flew across for the funeral and the TV film-clip on the news that evening showed her sitting between her mom and aunt, looking very white-faced and drawn but not weeping.

That night Della returned to England with her parents and was delighted she’d escaped the media and paparazzi.

“You have the choice of your old bedroom or the guestroom darling,” said her mom.

Della chose her old bedroom, saying it was the friendliest room in the house. Her mom lay beside her stroking her hair until Della was deeply asleep.

The dawn chorus of birds awoke Della and she smiled, the first real smile for several days. Discounting the birds, she couldn’t believe how quiet it was compared with living in Manhattan. She threw open the curtains and stretched and then reeled in horror, being bathed in switched on TV lights and the flashlights of hordes of media cameras from the media and paparazzi on vigil just feet away from her on the street footpath behind the boundary hedge. Some cameramen were even on stepladders for better elevation.

Damn she said, adding, “The fucking bastards.”

But these days Della was media trained. She did her hair and put on lipstick and opening the French doors went on to the lawn to pose for the media, just in time to halt her father who was racing out brandishing an under-and-over shotgun.

“Cool it dad and be a good boy and go back inside.”

The media cheered.

“Okay you lot. Fire away.”

“What is it like being a widow for one so young?”

“I wasn’t married to Bruno although we were talking about it.”


And the questions and replies flowed until Della said, “Right, that’s it.”

The media moaned.

“Dad bring me the gun.”

Lance trotted out with it and handed it across.

Della opened it, checked and said it was loaded and snapped the barrels back in place.

“Right you lot. I gave you a good go. Now it’s time to leave and I don’t want anyone staying or returning. If you do you risk birdshot up your backside. I will give one full newspaper or magazine interview, but only one, for the biggest donation to The Bruno Baker Family Trust.  Give them your phone number here dad.”

Lance did that.

“Call here and present your offer to my father Lance or my mother Janice and we’ll do the rest. I return to New York on Sunday evening so don’t delay. I won’t give a radio or TV interview because I don’t wish to risk breaking down and marring my public image as beautiful but tough. Thanks guys. You’ve done here.”


As the family walked inside Della’s dad said, “Christ I can’t believe how you handled them. They behaved like lambs. Most media are right bastards.”

“It’s called management dad. I gave them initially what they came here for, staying in my nightdress so I’d look sexy for the cameras. Celebrities have power so I used it and told them to bugger off. Some will return and try to negotiate a cut-price interview but just tell them to bugger off.”

Janice sniffed, “You’ve learned bad language while in New York.”

“I’ve been speaking English-English mother.”

Her mother said, “English-English – what on earth is that?”


Della returned to New York with a check for the equivalent of $US17,436 from a UK-based international women’s magazine for the interview. Next morning, she met Bruno’s dad, having met him before, and went to their family’s attorney where she presented the check for the Bruno Baker Family Trust and her own check for $50,000 to add to the trust.

“You have no need to do this,” Walter Baker said. “Bruno lost his life because of his carelessness. We have been advised the agency had insurance and that will be paid to Milly and me.”

“As I told you on that dreadful day Walter, I feel partly responsible because I may have distracted him. Whether or not that was the case it doesn’t matter. Bruno was a real pal as well as my lover. I feel a little better giving this money.”



Della returns from Miami tomorrow. She’s been on a 7-night cruise of the Western Caribbean with close, very close girlfriend, Val Powell, Laurence’s third wife. She then starts with the TV company on preparation of hosting the first season of its new prime time show, My New York.

Della is very excited about this new opportunity that comes six weeks after her contract with Payne-Blade-Rossi Worldwide Advertising Agency terminated, three months early by mutual agreement.

She lives alone in her own apartment in secure accommodation high above 5th Avenue and receives a generous retainer from Laurence Powell’s to appear at special promotions of his company’s highly successful French perfume called Ascenseur (meaning elevator or lift in English).

Although still without a steady boyfriend, Della frequently has over-night company in her apartment. Her network of casual friends has increased and include Mrs Rossi who she meets once every week to ten days for lunch. Her occasional lovers include Val Power, prominent freelance photographer Chip Moore and very occasionally TV vice-president Dan O’Rourke.

She is happy, uses an on-call limo-service that can also provide personal security if required, which is infrequent these days and is looking forward to her entry into TV hosting and is hopeful a bigger career in television will develop for her. Della knows her personality and good looks are suited to TV exposure and she’d been told by her recently hired personal management agent that her clear enunciation and mid-Atlantic accent are her biggest assets to impress media broadcasters when looking for people for specific purposes.

 Another of Della’s personal goals is to be married by the time she’s in her early thirties.

The End

© Copyright 2021 Grigor McGregor. All rights reserved.


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