Chapter 16 – Feeding the Mouth That Bites

Finally, Ben turned into a quiet side street where trees were planted at perfect intervals and stopped in front of a discreetly and artfully lit restaurant. A valet in a vest and bow tie hurried over.

“Mr. Ziegler, it’s good to see you again.” The valet took the keys with casual professionalism.

Ben got out and walked around the car, offering her his arm and Chloe took it. He smelled of too much cologne.

The interior of the restaurant was bathed in subdued lighting and decorated in deep red tones. Dark red walls, black leather benches, and crystal glasses sparkling in the candlelight. The soft murmur of conversation mingled with the gentle clinking of cutlery on porcelain. A pianist in the corner played something jazzy, unobtrusive enough not to disturb.

“Mr. Ziegler, your reservation is ready.” The maître d’ led them across the room to a corner table, shielded from the other guests by a cleverly placed plant.

Ben beamed as he pulled out her chair. “Best table in the house.”

The menus were heavy, bound in leather, and at least in hers, there were no prices listed. After a few moments, a waiter appeared.

“May I bring you something to drink?”

“A bottle of 2010 Château Cissac,” Ben said without even looking at the wine list. “And bring us the oyster sampler as a starter. Then the tasting menu.”

“Certainly, sir.”

When the waiter disappeared, Ben leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced over his rounded belly. “I hope you like oysters.”

“I love oysters,” Chloe lied. She had never eaten oysters before.

“Good, good.” His gaze slid over her, not greedily, but contentedly. “By the way, you really look fantastic tonight. Black suits you, very elegant.”

“Thanks, Ben.” She gave him her Chloe Heart smile, wide and radiant.

The wine arrived, was presented and then poured. Ben raised his glass. “To your success.”

They clinked glasses.

“So,” Ben leaned forward, “tell me about yourself. The real Chloe, the girl behind the performer.”

“What do you want to know?” She sipped her wine, maintaining eye contact.

“Everything. Where are you from? What’s your family like? What made a girl like you…” he made a vague gesture, “…come here?”

Chloe played with the stem of her wine glass. “I’m from a small town. Rural California. Lots of corn and cows, and everyone knows everyone. The best thing about it was the intercity bus terminal to Valley City.”

“And you wanted more.”

“Who doesn’t?” She shrugged. “I wanted… excitement. Glamour. To earn my own money. The chance to be someone, not just get stuck in a small town where the biggest scandal is when someone cheats on his wife with the supermarket cashier.”

Ben laughed. “And your family?”

“My parents…” She paused, as if considering how much to reveal. “We don’t talk anymore.”

The oysters arrived, gray and slimy in some sort of shell on a bed of ice. The waiter explained the different varieties, they were called Kumamoto, Bluepoint, and something French that Chloe immediately forgot.

Ben took one, squeezed lemon on it, tilted his head back, and slurped it loudly from the shell. “Try the Kumamoto first. They’re milder.”

Chloe imitated his movements. The oyster slid down her throat, salty and strange, but she managed not to grimace. It actually tasted good it was just the feeling in her mouth that was disgusting.

“So,” she said after swallowing, “now I want to know something about you. You must have so many stories. How long have you been in the business?”

Ben’s posture changed immediately. He straightened up, his chest swelling slightly. “Since 1982. Over thirty years.”

“Wow. You must have seen everything, the whole evolution of the industry.”

“You could say that.” He took another oyster, grinning smugly. “I was there when it was still a real film business. Before the internet ruined everything.”

“Tell me about it.” She leaned forward, chin resting on her hand, eyes wide and interested, fixed on him.

The first course arrived, some fish in a reduction sauce, artfully arranged with greens and edible flowers. Ben cut into it as he spoke.

“My first big success was Tiffany Wild. That was in 1983. I discovered her in a strip club along the freeway to Santa Lucia when I was still new to the business.” His eyes glazed over with nostalgia. “Nineteen years old, beautiful, but wasting herself on truck drivers for twenty bucks in the back room.”

He took a sip of wine.

“I knew right away she had that certain something. So I took her under my wing. Within two years, she was one of the biggest stars in the industry.”

“Wow,” Chloe whispered.

“We had a very… close relationship.” The way he said it, the slight pause, the undertone, told Chloe everything she needed to know. “She was grateful for everything I did for her, and we took good care of each other.”

He fucked her. Of course he did.

“What happened to her?”

“Got married, she’s long out of the business. Lives somewhere in Arizona now, I think. She’s over fifty now anyway.” He waved her off as if she had become irrelevant after she stopped being useful to him. “But then, in the nineties, Jenny Jackson came along.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of her!”

“Of course you have. She was huge. One of the biggest performers of the nineties, she was everywhere, people couldn’t avoid her.” That possessive pride again. “We had a really special relationship as well. The nineties were simply the golden years of the porn industry and Jenny was my golden girl.”

Both of them. He fucked both of them.

“You must have been a good mentor,” Chloe said innocently.

“I know how to take care of my girls.” The phrasing sent a chill down her spine. “And the good ones always knew how to take care of me.”

He laughed as if he had made a good joke while the waiter cleared the plates and brought the next course. A quail dish with truffles.

“But then,” Ben’s tone turned bitter, “the internet came along. It destroyed our entire market at first, profits plummeted, and they never really recovered back to what they were. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a lot of money to be made in the business, but it’s nothing like it used to be.”

“That must have been tough.”

“I tried for a few years to create the next star, to just make it happen, thinking that if I’d done it twice, I could do it a third time, but it just didn’t work out anymore. The girls didn’t have the right attitude anymore. No discipline, no gratitude.”

He stared into his wine glass, swirling the dark red liquid.

“Well, there was one.”

Chloe waited, letting the silence linger.

“Samantha Sparkles,” he finally said.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral, only mildly curious.

“She could have been bigger than Tiffany and Jenny combined. She really had it all. The looks, the talent, the intelligence, the natural hunger.” His tone grew heavier, harder to read, tinged with pride, frustration, and something that sounded almost like regret. “The camera loved her. And my God, she could suck cock like no one else.”

Oh God, please don’t say…

Chloe forced herself to giggle. “You seem to have liked her.”

“She was my next superstar. Or should have been.” He leaned forward and looked at her seriously. “But she was also incredibly stubborn. When she liked something, she was the most professional person you’d ever seen. When she didn’t like something, she made it everyone else’s problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“She refused to shoot certain scenes. Anal, for example, was completely taboo for her. Or interracial. Said it wasn’t her thing.” He shook his head. “If you really want to make it in this business, you can’t afford to be so picky.”

“But you represented her anyway?”

“Yes, because when she wanted to, she was pure magic.” Another sip of wine. “But she constantly created unnecessary conflicts and offended people who could have helped her career. And in her private life, she had nothing but trouble.”

“Yeah?”

“She had this boyfriend. On-again, off-again. Daz, he’s a videographer. Good cameraman, I still work with him.” Ben snorted. “But the guy was pathologically jealous. You can’t date girls in the industry and then be jealous when they do their job, it doesn’t work that way. I told him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“That sounds really complicated.”

“It was a fucking drama with her, all the time and it ended up hurting her career. She was distracted, unfocused.” He shook his head. “She could have been much more successful than she was.”

The waiter brought them dessert, a sorbet with lots of foam and pieces of frozen berries.

“But we always got along well.” There it was again, that tone. “No matter how difficult it got, I always supported her and I never regretted it, she was always grateful for my help.”

Damn. Samantha too. He fucked her too. My sister.

Chloe had to suppress her disgust, forcing herself to nod understandingly. “It must have been so important to her to have someone like you, someone who had her back.”

“I do what I can. But some people can’t be saved from themselves.” He looked at her across the table. “You remind me a little of her, you know. You have the same potential, that same intimate, almost magical chemistry with the camera. But you’re much smarter, I noticed that right away, you’re much more like Jenny in that regard.”

“In what way?”

“Jenny was a good performer, don’t get me wrong, but what made her so successful was the fact that she was a disciplined businesswoman. I see that same drive in you. You understand that this is a business and not just fun. You don’t make a fuss, you let people tell you what to do.” He smiled, and it was almost fatherly, if you ignored the lustful undertone. “You’re definitely going to be successful, I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so.” She played with her dessert spoon. “What kind of conflicts did Samantha Sparkles have exactly? I don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

Ben nodded appreciatively.

“Madeline Stokes, for example. She runs Sinful Productions, they produce Sinful Stepsisters, for example. Tough woman with high standards. Samantha was constantly arguing with her.”

“About what?”

“Madeline wanted her to do things and she didn’t want to do them. Silly things like, certain positions she didn’t want to do, or certain setups, storylines and stuff like that. Samantha refused directions and regularly argued with her on set.” He shook his head. “You don’t argue with Madeline Stokes. That woman knows what she wants.”

“Oh wow, that doesn’t sound good.”

“No, really not, and she often did things like that. She didn’t want to shoot for Dark Desires because she had something against the whole interracial thing, said it was race play and she wasn’t into that, and that’s why she fell out with Lucia DeVries, Virgil’s wife, we met him at the party. She’s the boss there and then told everyone that Samantha was racist, that was a PR nightmare, let me tell you.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Totally unnecessary beef. But the biggest problem was always Madeline, because Samantha did a lot of filming for Sinful and they got into fights every time. She probably would have preferred to take over the directing herself.”

Chloe nodded thoughtfully.

“You asked a lot about Samantha.” Ben suddenly looked at her suspiciously. “More than about Tiffany or Jenny.”

A brief moment of panic. Had she given herself away?

She laughed, feigning embarrassment. “Sorry, I… okay, this is embarrassing, but Samantha Sparkles was actually my favorite performer before I started myself.”

“Really?”

“Her CCC scene was one of the first porn movies I ever saw.” She lowered her gaze, playing with a strand of hair. “I know it’s silly, but she was kind of my role model, watching her was the first time I realized I’d like to do this myself.”

Ben’s face relaxed. “That explains a lot. Real fans who become performers are often the best. Because they understand what viewers want, because they see what we do through the eyes of the consumer. Keep that up!”

“Yes, exactly.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “What ever happened to her? I heard she’s no longer in the industry?”

Ben’s expression closed. “Oh, she’s dead. She was murdered.”

“Oh my God.”

“Terrible thing.” He reached for his wine glass. “But that’s Valley City for you. Crime is out of control. The politicians need to crack down much harder.”

It was breathtaking how quickly he changed the subject. Why? Out of guilt? Simple discomfort with the topic? Or did he just not care?

“Anyway,” he waved to the waiter for the check, “let’s talk about your future. After your CCC success, a few studios have already taken notice of you.”

“Really? Who?”

“Victor from Anal Adventures is interested, but I told him you’re not ready to shoot anal yet, like you told me. Marc from Throat Me loved your shoot and they’d definitely book you again after a while. And…” he paused for effect, “Valeria Cruz asked about you too.”

“Really? Valeria Cruz?”

“The one and only.” He signed the bill with a flourish. “But don’t get your hopes up too high. You’ve piqued her interest, but Valeria really needs to be convinced by constantly good performance. You’ll have to deliver that somewhere else first.”

“How about Madeline Stokes?” Chloe made it sound as if the idea had just occurred to her. “I mean, if she’s as tough as you say, then she must really care about quality, right? Not like producers who just want quick content. That would be just the thing to show that I’m disciplined and deliver good work.”

Ben paused, thinking. “That’s… actually not a bad idea.”

“Really? I mean, she sounds like someone with your level of professionalism.” A bit of ego bait couldn’t hurt.

“I could probably arrange that.” He sounded as if he were sold on the idea. “Madeline and I have a good relationship. I could get you in.”

“Oh my God, would you do that? That would be amazing!”

“For you? Of course.” He stood up, came around the table to pull out her chair. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

The ride back was quiet. Ben maintained his professional facade flawlessly, not making a single suggestive comment. He was probably playing the long game, wanting her to build trust in him first.

When they stopped in front of her apartment building, he turned to her. “I really enjoyed the evening, Chloe. It’s nice that we can talk so well together, I don’t take that for granted.”

“I enjoyed it very much too. Thank you for the wonderful dinner.”

“You’re welcome. I look forward to working with you.”

She got out, and he waited until she was inside. Then he drove away, undoubtedly pleased with himself.

Chloe leaned against the inside of her apartment door and took a deep breath. She had received so much information. Ben had slept with Samantha. With all his “stars”. Samantha had been under pressure from all sides, from Madeline Stokes, from her boyfriend Daz, from Lucia DeVries, and last but not least, from Valeria Cruz…