Simon gazed at the women in the pool, beckoned a waiter with a few instructions, accepted a glass of wine, and settled back to enjoy the enticing scene before him.
Word of the spectacle spread quickly among the guests. Many drifted closer out of curiosity, but upon seeing the host seated at the pool's edge, most tactfully withdrew, unwilling to interrupt his pleasure. A few striking women eyed the young man with heated interest, clearly tempted, yet uncertain of the situation, they held back from joining the water.
The four mermaids frolicked for a while longer until Stephanie Seymour swam back to Simon's feet. Tilting her exquisite face upward, she looked at him and said, "Simon, I'm hungry."
Simon summoned another waiter, gave brief orders, then told the women in the pool, "Just a moment."
Stephanie pouted. "I thought you'd prepare something for me yourself."
Simon smiled, studying the youthful face before him—full of collagen, even a touch of baby fat—and asked with genuine curiosity, "By the way, how old are you?"
Stephanie's expression turned indignant. "Asking a lady her age so directly is incredibly rude."
Simon's smile did not waver. "I want to know."
Stephanie was about to scold him further when another mermaid glided over with effortless allure—Cindy Crawford. She had been lingering nearby and now rested her arms on the pool's edge, flicking water from her hair. "Simon," she interjected, "Fanny won't be eighteen for another five months. So you'd better be careful. Getting involved with her could be very troublesome."
Stephanie immediately bristled. "Hey, Cindy, I'm clearly twenty."
Cindy acted as though she hadn't heard the protest and raised a suggestive eyebrow at Simon, giving him a knowing look.
Simon nodded solemnly in response.
Stephanie grew even more frustrated, glaring at Cindy. "If I'm not eighteen, then you're not even sixteen."
Cindy propped herself higher on her arms, subtly accentuating her curves, and cast Simon a seductive glance. "Mr. Westerlo, I'm only fifteen. Would you dare date a fifteen-year-old?"
Paulina Porizkova and Helena Christensen swam over as well, lining up beside the others at the edge. Both laughed at the exchange.
A waiter arrived with a tray laden with food. Simon took it and placed it in front of Stephanie, then asked the other three, "Would you like something too?"
"Of course," Cindy said, pulling the tray closer. "There's plenty—Fanny certainly can't finish it all. It was obviously meant for four." She claimed a dish of black caviar nestled in crushed ice, looked up at Simon, and added, "Soviet caviar. I tried it once in New York—three hundred dollars for a tiny portion. But it really is delicious. And this kind is best with top-shelf vodka."
Stephanie had been eyeing the same caviar. Seeing Cindy take the entire dish, she teased, "You're only fifteen, Cindy. How can you drink vodka?"
Cindy leisurely picked up a delicate mother-of-pearl spoon, glanced sideways at Stephanie, and replied, "I'm a bad girl. Bad girls are allowed to drink."
Simon casually instructed the waiter to bring vodka, then watched the playful sparring with amusement.
Stephanie, thoroughly outmatched in the banter, nibbled sulkily on a piece of bread and cast Simon a wounded glance, clearly hoping he would take her side. The other two women, enjoying Stephanie's defeat, cheerfully helped themselves from the tray.
Paulina Porizkova—whose face so resembled Audrey Hepburn's—also chose bread, but without Stephanie's hesitation asked Cindy for some caviar. She ate with evident pleasure. When Simon handed her a glass of vodka, she murmured a restrained thank you.
Helena Christensen selected a salad, accepted her vodka from Simon, took a sip, and ventured, "Simon, where's your girlfriend?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt three simultaneous glares. She could almost hear the others thinking, If you can't speak wisely, at least stay quiet. Realizing her blunder, she shrank back and pretended she had said nothing.
Simon, however, answered without hesitation. "Probably saw me flirting with other women, got jealous, and is now plotting how to punish me later."
All four laughed. Cindy's eyes held a particular glint as she asked, "Simon, your girlfriend dares to bully you?"
Simon nodded. "Yes. She's older than me—I'm always being bullied by older women."
Cindy gave a sensual shrug of her shoulders. "Then a younger girl would suit you better. How about a fifteen-year-old?"
Stephanie, still nursing her grudge over the bread, immediately countered, "You're older than Simon too."
Cindy continued to ignore her.
Stephanie took an irritated bite of bread, then suddenly remembered something. "Simon, I was the first one in the water. You promised a reward—what is it?"
Simon turned the question back on her. "What do you want?"
Stephanie opened her mouth, then hesitated, unable to decide.
Paulina Porizkova, who had remained quiet until now, spoke up. "Simon, I heard you're planning to direct Batman?"
"Yes, though it probably won't start until the end of the year."
Recently, Simon had tried to buy back the directing contract tied to When Harry Met Sally from Disney, but Michael Eisner had refused. They had, however, agreed that Simon could complete Batman before fulfilling his obligation to Disney.
Paulina continued, "I just signed with ICM. I'd like to try acting. Is there a role in Batman that might suit me?"
Simon shook his head. "The script hasn't been written yet, but if something fits, you can audition."
Paulina gave him a playfully resentful look. "That's an awfully vague answer."
"Very well," Simon said, raising his hands in mock surrender with a smile. "If you don't mind, I can promise you a small part—say, one of Bruce Wayne's companions."
Paulina's eyes brightened, then dimmed as realization struck. "Companion? Not girlfriend?"
"No. Privately, Bruce Wayne is Batman, but publicly he often poses as a playboy—which means he needs companions."
Paulina understood and sighed with disappointment. "Just a cameo, then?"
Simon nodded, still smiling. "Yes. But if you can demonstrate Audrey Hepburn-level acting, I'd be happy to recommend you for other roles."
Paulina stuck out her tongue sheepishly—she knew perfectly well her current acting ability.
As they chatted, several waiters wheeled in a rack of clothing.
Simon handed swimsuits to the four women. Once they had put them on and climbed out of the pool, wrapping themselves in robes, he gestured to the rack of gowns. "Pick whichever you like and take it with you."
Cindy was tying her robe's sash. She looked at Simon. "Are you leaving?"
Simon nodded. "It's already eleven. But you're welcome to stay—party until morning if you want."
Helena, browsing the gowns, asked, "You're leaving? Isn't this your house?"
"It'll be used mainly for parties from now on," Simon explained. "I have another residence."
Helena realized she had asked another slightly foolish question.
Simon pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Cindy, who was closest. "That's all for tonight. I enjoyed your company. When you decide what reward you want, give me a call."
As Simon turned to leave, the other three crowded around Cindy.
Stephanie affected nonchalance and reached for the card, but Cindy deftly moved it out of reach. Stephanie pouted. "It's only a card. I thought it might be a blank check."
Cindy tucked the card securely into her hand, a faint thrill in her expression.
A connection to Simon Westeros was worth far more than any check. Only a certain foolish girl would think otherwise. This time Cindy did not ignore Stephanie; she gave her a sidelong glance and said with a half-smile, "If you got a blank check, how much would you write?"
"At least…" Stephanie began impulsively, then stopped herself. She rolled her eyes at Cindy. "I'm not telling you. Anyway, Simon gave the card to all four of us, right?"
"You can ask me for the number if you want it."
With that, Cindy selected a gown from the rack, picked up her heels, and headed toward the villa.
Paulina and Helena, who had intended to browse more carefully, hurriedly chose gowns and followed.
Stephanie stamped her foot in frustration, then rushed after them. Though her first thought had been a check, she too understood the value of Simon Westeros private contact—the youngest billionaire in the country. If she landed him… well.
…
For the party, every room in the estate, including those inside the villa, had been opened to guests.
Simon found Janet on the second-floor balcony of a sitting room, in the company of Katherine and several others. When he appeared, Janet remarked with a hint of acidity, "You seemed so delighted feeding the cats down there—I didn't dare interrupt."
Simon smiled, slipped an arm around her, kissed her lightly, and said, "It's late. We should head home and rest."
Janet offered a small complaint, but when his hand tightened gently, she softened against him. Linking her arm with his, she turned to Katherine. "Kate, need a ride?"
Katherine shook her head and glanced briefly at Simon. "I'll get home on my own later."
Janet did not press. After nodding farewell to the others, she and Simon left the balcony. They said goodnight to guests along the way, reached the front drive, and found Neil Bennett waiting with the car.
In recent months, Simon had not only purchased the Palisades estate but also acquired a larger property in Malibu, again near Dume Point Park, though the architecture suited his taste better.
Traffic was light on the midnight highways. Palisades bordered Malibu; just over half an hour later, they arrived at the new mansion on the western side of Dume Point Park.
It was already past midnight.
After showering, Simon and Janet slipped into the large bed.
Both were tired from the late hour and assumed sleep would come quickly. Janet nestled against Simon, chatted softly for a while, then suddenly said, "Simon, there's one more thing."
Simon held her close and murmured, "Hm?"
"You're twenty now."
Simon pretended alarm. "This isn't a marriage push, is it?"
Janet laughed and tapped his chest. "I would never push you to marry. Actually, my older brother is coming to Los Angeles tomorrow. He claims he's just passing through and wants to have lunch with us."
Simon paused, then smiled. "Of course that's fine. Which brother?"
After all this time, Simon had a general sense of Janet's siblings. He also knew the Johnston family could not ignore his relationship with her forever. The timing made perfect sense.
"My eldest brother, Anthony Johnston."
Simon nodded. "He could have come tonight, actually. Shall I reserve a restaurant for tomorrow?"
"No need. He prefers to keep it low-key—we can eat at home."
"Then I won't go to the office in the morning. We'll prepare lunch together." Simon paused, then added, "Your eldest brother—he's older than your aunt, isn't he?"
"Yes," Janet replied, unsure why he mentioned it. "Anthony is forty-one; my aunt is thirty-eight. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. You mentioned it once; it just came to mind."
Janet paused, then laughed softly, her fingers playfully scratching his chest. "You'll meet my aunt eventually. But you absolutely, positively must not entertain any improper thoughts."