[Chapter 85: Ten Days of Madness]
It wasn't until noon that the two people, who had fallen asleep tangled in each other's arms on the mattress, finally woke up.
The bedroom was a wreck -- clothes tossed around, furniture out of place, and used tissues scattered everywhere.
After stretching their sore limbs, they sat up, exchanged smiles, but didn't say a word.
Then, without even bothering to put on clothes, they got out of bed together and headed straight into the bathroom.
Hot water poured from the showerhead, cascading over their bodies, bringing waves of relief.
Orlando and Hillary stayed quiet, taking turns washing each other.
Though the bathroom was fairly spacious, it wasn't a master bath after all.
There was only a single hot water showerhead.
So, sharing the shower inevitably meant some nudges and bumps.
Eventually, they just cleaned each other's bodies -- that way, there was more skin-to-skin contact.
It felt necessary to warm up under the falling water.
The mood was right.
They occasionally let out soft laughter.
As time passed, resistance waned; after all, they'd just woken up, so self-control was relatively weak.
After last night, Hillary learned that Orlando could still be that fired up right after waking.
"Uh-huh..." Orlando hummed softly, leaning against the wall, savoring the moment.
It was pure enjoyment -- not just physically, but also mentally.
Because he could read minds.
So he knew she had never done that.
After spending a good while in the shower, they finally dressed and stepped out refreshed.
But Orlando didn't leave the bedroom immediately. He called his assistant to have some food brought in so he could eat without leaving the house.
After quickly handling everything, they both left the bedroom and sat quietly together in the living room for quite some time.
---
Only when the sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and into the garden did Hillary stand and walk out.
After hesitating briefly, Orlando followed her.
It was only then that they spoke their first words since waking.
"I'm going back to Arkansas," Hillary said softly, looking at him. "I've been out here long enough."
"Yeah, I know." Orlando crossed his arms, looking at the Governor's wife who looked beautiful and bare-faced in the sunlight. "Well, maybe next week I'll head to Arkansas, too. Will you be there then?"
"You're going to Arkansas?"
"Yes, with what's happening in Kuwait. My record manager and agent both suggested I release the mini-album early. So starting tomorrow, I'll be promoting the album. Should take about a week in Los Angeles, then I'll head to other places. Coincidentally, I haven't been to Arkansas yet, so..."
"I'll be there whenever you want," she smiled.
"Yeah?"
A flicker of something undefinable passed in Orlando's eyes. He noticed Hillary's beautiful eyebrows and raised his own.
Two seconds later, they embraced and kissed naturally right in front of a crowd of bodyguards and assistants.
There were many bodyguards and assistants from both sides present.
Almost all of them widened their eyes or dropped their jaws.
Though everyone already knew.
The two of them had already spent the night in the bedroom.
Everyone knew what had happened there.
But at least there was no actual third-party witness before.
If pressed, it was barely possible to "keep it under wraps."
But now... now, what could they do?
They kissed openly.
Washington and Lincoln turned their heads almost simultaneously.
The two bodyguards caught each other's eyes.
Washington: 'Oh! Damn, the boss is openly messing around -- what do we do? Is this gonna blow up in our faces?'
Lincoln: 'Boss is killing it! There are only fifty women like her in all of America!'
They exchanged looks, but said nothing.
Next to them, petite Diana was shocked and worried.
She feared her boss might be hated or even face retaliation from Bill, an infamous heavyweight...
The others either belonged to Madonna or were bodyguards and assistants brought by Hillary.
Their inner thoughts aren't worth going into.
Finally, after maybe a minute or two, the two separated.
But after looking at each other, they kissed again.
This time, they kissed while walking back into the house.
They didn't wait until the second floor but instead opened the door to a first-floor guest room and went inside.
Bang!
The sound of the door closing echoed.
Leaving behind a crowd of stunned, surprised, and helpless people.
That same farewell scene repeated at the front door of the villa -- for the next few days.
---
Ten days later.
It was August 1990, and two days had already passed.
Orlando wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, along with a simple white shirt and gray trousers that flattered his figure.
After stepping out, he kissed Hillary, who wore a long floral dress, one last time.
She looked radiant and joyful -- looked ten years younger -- and she got into a black Lincoln sedan, leaving Madonna's mansion.
Orlando, looking fresh and relaxed, smiled and waited for about half an hour.
He got into his Dodge Sundance, which had sat in the basement garage for almost two weeks.
Started the engine and pulled onto the street.
~Whistle~
The wind blew through the lowered car window, making him whistle.
During these ten crazy days, they basically didn't leave Madonna's mansion at all.
They chatted, danced, sang, played games, watched videos and TV -- whatever they wanted, however they wanted.
Orlando didn't step outside the mansion once.
Of course, none of this was the most important part.
Ten full days.
On the mattress, on the sofa, on the floor, on the coffee table, in the bathroom, on the balcony, in the living room, in the swimming pool, by the pool, in the garden...
All inside Madonna's enormous mansion.
It was truly insane.
Yes, ten insane days.
But it was also a wonderful ten days.
Orlando, holding the steering wheel with one hand, smacked his lips.
Thinking of Hillary's passionate demands and pleas, he had the urge to turn the car around and follow her for another ten days.
But it was just a thought.
Nothing more.
During that time, Hillary only made a few phone calls to friends.
It was hard for her to carve out that much time again.
Because of this, the two postponed a lot of things.
Too many plans got pushed back.
For example, Hillary skipped all the parties she was supposed to attend, postponed or canceled any political events she was involved in.
For example, for Orlando, the planned release date for the mini-album was pushed back by ten days.
This made Frank and Seymour furious.
But hey, what could they do? He was the boss.
If it had been anyone else, they might've gently advised the boss.
"Sure, play around -- but know your limits."
"Your career comes first."
"Only when you're successful can you have better luck with women."
But with Hillary...
This was a woman who often made national political headlines.
Messing around with her could almost be seen as part of the career.
Even more important than releasing records or making investments in New York.
So there was no point in saying more.
Frank and Seymour could only try their best to smooth things over, covering up the incident while keeping the company running as usual.
Luckily, it was only ten days.
If it had been longer, and Orlando hadn't made any public appearances, his popularity would've taken a serious hit.
In this place where entertainment is everything, popularity almost equals value.
---
Beep beep beep--
The cell phone on the passenger seat rang.
Driving toward Orlando Records, he picked up the call from the new branch office in Los Angeles.
"What the hell! You're finally coming out?! Oh my god, ten days! She had you all to herself for ten days!"
Sure enough, it was Madonna's voice.
He knew as soon as he and Hillary left, she'd be the first to call.
Because she had been there the very next day.
She'd canceled all her commercial performances and work and returned to Los Angeles immediately.
But she was told her Beverly Hills mansion was being "borrowed."
After hearing this, Madonna had stayed at the InterContinental Hotel in Beverly Hills, mumbling and cursing for days.
All those crazy complaints like, "That woman didn't just take my house -- she took my man, too."
Except for Frank and Seymour, Orlando's two bodyguards, and those bound by strict confidentiality,
a new round of non-disclosure agreements went out, covering all assistants and bodyguards on both sides, and even the staff at Madonna's mansion.
Madonna was another who understood what those ten wild days looked like.
"Isn't this exactly the story you always wanted to hear?"
Orlando was driving slowly along the winding roads of Beverly Hills.
On both sides, the mansions stood neat and orderly under the setting sun.
The wind blew across his handsome face, and combined with the afternoon light, he looked like an ancient Roman or Greek statue.
"Now it's official. Congrats, dear Madonna, you're sharing a man with the Governor of Arkansas' wife."
"Fuck!"
"Where are you now?"
"Why, you still got energy?"
"For the last two days, she hasn't let me touch her at all."
"Why?"
"Others might not get it, but you will, right? Even with all the medicine, it doesn't help. She's worried about the aftereffects, so she won't let me anywhere near her anymore, except..."
"Fuck! But now that you say that, I feel a bit better. Humph, that crazy woman sure is something!"
After venting, Madonna told him she was on her way back to the mansion.
She had to clean up the mess those two wild bastards left behind.
"I don't care. You're paying for all expenses during this time -- the bodyguards, assistants, servants, and the cost of the new confidentiality agreements!"
"Did you hear that?"
"Hey, you listening?"
"Hello? Orlando, you there..."
"I'm listening."
But suddenly, Orlando pulled over on the side of the road in Beverly Hills.
After a brief frown and moment of silence, he answered Madonna, "Uh... I'll get back to you."
"Wait? Didn't you just say you were going to handle the backlog at the company?"
"Something... unexpected came up."
*****
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