They were just your average young teens, Alexis, 13 and her best friend Ruby, 14. Your basic know-it-all until they get into high school little American girls. Junior varsity cheerleaders, well dressed in designer jeans and pretty little glitter tank tops that said things like Hot pink and Off Limits, or I Really do have a Brain. Coddled, spoiled L.A. kids with cell phones and iPods and more pairs of shoes than Imelda Marcos. And Alexis had one more thing no one else in her school had…she had a big sister dating an Academy Award Nominee. Some Australian guy named Russell Crowe.

The movie he was up for was about some old guy who broke his confidentiality agreement and spilled the beans about cigarettes way back when. Cigarettes! Ew! The girls had never even thought to smoke a cigarette in their entire lives. They also didn't think the fat, old guy in that movie was anything special to look at.

"Carla," Alexis sighed, sprawled across her big sister's bed in her big sister's plush Beverly Hills apartment and sipping Evian.

"Yeah, Lex?" Carla was getting ready, all primped and pretty. The date was on his way.

"Why do you date that big fat old movie actor?"

Carla's head dropped back and she laughed. "Alexis! That's not what he really looks like, you ninny. He's young and gorgeous, really nice and a ton of fun. Too bad you and Ruby are heading to the mall with mom or I'd introduce you." She turned a sweet smile. "Trust me. He likes kids too."

Alexis sat up and straightened her shoulders just as the doorbell rang. Mom was there to take her and Ruby shopping. "I'm not a kid, Carla." She tossed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and strutted out.

"Yes you are! And don't get another pink pair of shoes, you goof!" Carla called, never leaving the bedroom. "Hi, mom. Bye, mom," she shouted then fluffed her hair.

w

He'd met Carla during post-production for Mystery, Alaska. The minute he hit Hollywood, he'd gotten invited to a basic schmooze-fest, high powered party by one of the crew. Russ figured, what the hell, might be fun. The minute he entered the huge suite, his mate disappeared. The bloke was wheeling and dealing and doing that network thing Hollywood people like to do so much and Russ was on his own.

Nice party, free booze, good food and lots of pretty people. He'd spotted Carla early on as he socialized and chatted up several other lovely sheilas. Carla had a different kind of physical attractiveness and it centered on her hair. It fascinated him. He knew it was the creation of some expensive hair coloring expert, but it drew his eyes and held them. Silky mahogany color stripped with fine, random threads of gold and fire engine red. It caught the light and flashed, creating an effect that made her green eyes look like perfect, sparkling beacons. Russ worked his way around the room, getting closer and closer to her. All he wanted to do was touch the silky, thick length of it. He never expected that the brain and heart beneath that spectacular hair would be even more attractive.

He would always think of Carla as his savior because of what happened next. Inching his way to the tall cocktail table where she stood with another couple he listened carefully, seeking the perfect opportunity to join in on their conversation. More than once Carla subtly caught his eye and smiled, but never invited him. He remained close, his shoulder nearly touching hers.

Then he heard it. The other couple must have been deep into the convo for a while and it wasn't a very nice one. The way the bloke was talking to his sheila was not only shockingly inappropriate for a party, it was bordering on fucking abusive. Turning, he caught a distressed expression on the woman with the beautiful hair and he placed his hand on her elbow, leaned in covertly and whispered.

"Ya need a reason to get away from this, love?"

She never had a chance to respond, instead the nasty fucker's voice rose. "Get the fuck away from here, buddy. Mind your own business."

Static prickled in his veins and Russ' eyes narrowed. "Pardon? You really think that's any way to talk around these ladies?"

"I really think you should get the fuck away from here and mind your own business!"

His fists tightened. Suddenly he was no longer at a Hollywood party, he was in a bloody pub in the Outback and everything about him tightened. But before a word could be spoken, Carla turned and planted a deep kiss on his lips, sufficiently taking his breath and any thoughts in his head far, far away.

"Finally," she said with a grin. "I thought you'd never get here. Are we ready to leave?"

"Uh…uh…" he glared at the man then looked into her green eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry love. S'go."

In her car and speeding on the freeway, she finally spoke. Russ? Well all he could do was stare at her lovely profile. Did she know how she'd just saved his arse? Apparently so.

"You know, Mr. Crowe, I admire your intentions back there, but that would have been bad for you. Very, very bad."

"Uh…yeah. Thanks. You know me?"

"Of course I know who you are. You're going to be the next Hollywood It Boy, Mr. Crowe."

He chuckled. "Thanks for the confidence…but my dad is Mr. Crowe. Call me Russ. And…what shall I call you?"

Her hand shot out but her eyes were glued on the crazy traffic. "Carla Witcom. Nice to meet you. Shall we get some dinner, or would you like me to just take you back to your hotel?"

"I could eat." He grinned. Eat? Hell he had to eat. He was beginning a personal bulk-up program for his next part with Michael Mann. Luckily, wearing all those layers in Canada for his part as a sheriff hockey player hid the beginnings of it all. He'd explain his appetite when they got to the restaurant. Eating was important…but spending a little time with this sheila was far more important.

They became lovers that very night and had continued ever since. He called her his Post-Production girl, and she called him her Hollywood It Boy with a heart. But it wasn't his heart that was surprising, it was Carla's.

Carla Witcom was an up and coming fashion designer and owned a cutting edge dress shop on Rodeo. She did well, came from money and a place of influence, but was far more than anything he'd ever met in Tinsel Town. Her contacts were nice enough, had even connected him with a few directors he wasn't sure he'd ever get a chance to meet. They went to tons of parties, but cut out early every time. Carla wasn't about all the hoopla, and Russ wasn't about using her for what she could do for him. He genuinely liked her.

Smart, beautiful, quick as a whip with an added quality that attracted him greatly. Carla was a simple girl under all the expensive clothes and fancy connections. She loved her parents and adored her little sister. Her work ethic was strong and honest and her sense of reality was grounded.

After his Mystery, Alaska post-production stint, he saw her when he came up for the promotional jaunt. Again, he was with her during post-production for The Insider, and once more for that publicity tour. This time it was different. No post-production this time but a few pre-Oscar jitters he'd never, ever admit to.

Carla's flat was lovely, comfortable and relaxed and even though his luggage was always at the Beverly Hills Hotel, his thinly packed carryon was a fixture in Carla's closet whenever he was in town. He knew her bed like he knew his own and her heart like the back of his hand. It was familiar, they were well suited.

Still a bit jet lagged and in need of the kind of nourishment he could only find in her body, Russ didn't waste time. He left his hotel immediately after checking in and took a cab. At her door, he ran a hand down his tired face but his heart was jumping. He smoothed his hair, took a deep breath, shifted the bottle of wine from one hand to the other then tapped on the door.

He was leaning against the jamb when she opened. Fuck all, she took his breath every time she did that. She too leaned, her eyes sparkling. "You look tired," she breathed.

"Yeah, I need to go to bed."

"Well," her hand grasped his collar and tugged him inside. "We better take care of that."

The bottle and carryon thudded to the carpet and his arms snaked around her. They kissed their way to the bedroom, sighing and laughing the whole time. "Bloody hell, I fuckin' love this bed, Carla," he groaned as they cuddled, fully clothed together. It was a routine. A pattern. Like an old married couple. First he'd sleep, then they'd love each other 'til they could hardly see straight. Perfect. Bloody perfect. Exactly what he needed.

w

Alex and Ruby were plotting and planning for their debut in the big high school next September; strategizing wardrobes, cultivating smiles and attitudes. They strolled to the kitchen for something to nibble on and stopped at Ruby's mother's home office.

Betsy was a successful real estate agent. Her little office was neat but efficient and on the wall was a large bulletin board splattered with Polaroids of beautiful houses. At the right edge, a few pictures of friends and family. She turned to the girls.

"What are you two up to?"

"Nothing."

"Did you decide if you're coming to dinner with Daddy and me, Ruby?"

"Not yet."

"Alexis, you're welcome to join us. Call your mother, tell her you'll be home around nine this evening."

"Thank you, Mrs. Burk." Alexis moved closer to the bulletin board, casually perused the personal photos there and pointed. "Ew, who's this?" It was a photo obviously taken from a magazine. Unusual. The Burks were not the kind of people who got into that movie fan scene and the picture was obviously right out of Us or People Magazine. The man in the photo looked diabolical. Evil. He was wearing dark glasses and a black fedora. His beard was a dark speckling of rough stubble and he was smoking. The twisted swirl of grey smoldered and circled his face and he wore a bulky pinky ring. Ew. He looked like a drug pusher, like a Mafia henchman. He looked like a…pimp!

Betsy Burk chuckled. "Alex, don't you recognize that man?" The girl blinked, wide eyed and shook her head. "Honey, that's Russell Crowe. The guy Carla's dating. I thought for sure you'd already met him." Betsy's head tilted. "I think he's sexy," she sighed and the girls glared.

"I'm telling dad," Ruby grunted as both girls left Betsy chuckling aloud.

w

Drifting up from sweet sleep, Russ could smell Carla, her perfume, her passion, her need and it fired his. He rolled to face her and sucked a tender kiss. "You been layin' here watching me sleep, love?"

"Watching you sleep, watching you breathe, listening to you grumble and snore," she grinned. "And waiting patiently."

"Mmm," he sighed and buried his face in her silky hair, took a deep whiff and sat up. More ritual. Together they stripped to the bone and rejoined in the center of the big bed. The familiarity, the times of separateness, the long phone conversations in between, it all came together at those moments. And the first touch felt like the very first touch every time. This time it was Russ who reached, slid a fingertip across a begging nipple and he reveled at her intense reaction. Carla gasped, shuddered, smiled then placed her hand over his.

Not new lovers, not just learning but still the kind of lovers who found the most satisfaction in pleasing the other. It was often a laughing battle of 'My turn,' where Russ would tenderly pull her mouth from his cock to place his mouth to her sex. 'My turn,' she'd mumble and switch things so that she could savor his mouth. 'My turn,' and he would slid a finger deep inside her path, pant and gasp at the heat of her, then twist and turn, adding to the build of tension before she would then breathe, 'My turn'.

It was a method of sensations and possession, of pleasures and shifts, of advances and retreats and it served them well. But there was always that point, that moment when it was Russ' turn and only his turn. They were nearing it and his blood soared from a pounding heart. He always held off as long as possible, played the game, shifted the focus, allowed his body to be tormented by the ecstasy of anticipation.

He moved, slid his hand to cup her sex then nimble fingers sought the trigger along that known terrain. It didn't take long, it would be her third climax that session but he wanted to give it to her, to watch her strain, flush, arc and cry out his name. Worth it, so fucking worth it. There would be no more shifting of power. He rose over her trembling, opened thighs and set his cock to the entrance of heaven. Pressed in slowly, slowly until he could lower, wrap her in his arms, his hands buried in her hair and his mouth at hers. Careful, easy thrusts. Deep slides that made his muscles tingle and his heart race. Kisses that tasted like sugared tea. And a climax that climbed in tiny increments until he could take no more. Until he could no longer control his potent thrusts. Until he would…explode.

Relaxed and entangled, their bodies weak and their hearts slowing to a regular pace, those were the moments Russ thought about things. About Carla and what she did when they weren't together. It never paid to dwell too long on such things. Lord knew he didn't go without when they were apart. He could only assume that she didn't either. And Carla should not be alone. He wondered if such a thing was even possible. Accompanying her to parties always brought it to light. Carla sparkled. People would come from across a room to talk with her, men would reach out to touch her hand, her hair, her arm. What he had with her was wonderful, special, even extraordinary. But the current dynamics of his life limited how he could really feel about her. He was not in love with Carla, but he loved her very much. There was a perfection, a symmetry to their relationship. Wondering who she was with when he wasn't around could only make things go foul. It smacked of possessiveness…and Russ knew he could easily become a possessive prick if left unchecked.

There definitely was a special quality about them together. He was currently finishing a project with Ridley Scott and would soon embark on a film destined to make him even more of a globe trotter. Time to love Carla was going to get real thin, real fast. He suspected that Carla not only knew this, but understood it. They both seemed to sense that what they had was something to be savored and enjoyed as long as they had it.

Russ turned and cuddled her tight to his chest, kissed the top of her head and permitted a sudden, random thought to hook into his brain. Carla was wonderful. Wonderful on her own and wonderful for him. His mind locked onto the ever present imaginary calendar, marked the date with a red circle. If he was still moving ahead in his career, and his heart was still settled solidly in her bed, one year from that day he would ask her to be his wife. One year to get through the current film, Gladiator, and the next film, Proof of Life. One year. Twelve months. Fifty two short weeks. The decision was made.

"How do you work tomorrow?" she broke his reverie.

"Couple of meetings, briefing for the red carpet stuff. Uh, 'til four or five. What are the plans?"

"Well," her finger drew sweet circles around his navel. "I thought maybe a little family evening? You've never met Alexis. You up for it?"

"Meet your baby sister? Sounds good. I'll bring pizza. Be here around six. That work for you?"

"Yes, and she'll be bringing her best friend."

"Ruby," grinned Russ. How odd. He knew her family's names, and even her kid sister's best friend's name. He liked that, squeezed her a little tighter.

"And…" she said in a teasing tone. "It's a school night, so the girls will be gone by nine."

"Guess that'll be our bedtime, then. Nine. I'll mark it on my date book."

w

"He's horrible!" gasped Lex as they huddled in the hallway, skittering to reach Ruby's bedroom and privacy. "We've got to stop this!"

"Well, he looks like a terrible man. He must have some power of her, Lex! Some awful power to make her like him. We need a plan!"

"We need it fast," tears glittered in Alexis' blue eyes. "You and me…we're supposed to have dinner with Carla and that monster tomorrow night. We need a really good plan!"

Ruby pulled a notebook, flipped it opened and clicked an ink pen incessantly. Her tongue peeked out of her lips and her brow was curled. "We need to start with some kind of protection for ourselves. If he can take control of a strong lady like Carla, imagine what he could do to us. But I do agree. We need a plan…it has to be…an intervention."

w

Carla answered the door, leaned and guffawed. "What are you two up to? This isn't a masquerade pizza night and no one told me, is it?" The girls had their hair pulled tight from their faces, wore huge black hats, large dark glasses and white gloves. The rest looked normal, jeans, tank tops and sandals. Their expressions were very serious.

"Is he here yet?" Alexis asked brusquely.

"Not yet. I thought you might help me with setting the table and…hey…" She never finished her thought, they'd charged down the hall to the guest bedroom that often served as Alexis' room and slammed the door. "Well, nice to see you too. Sheesh."

The next knock on her door was Russ with two large pepperoni pizzas in hand. He stepped in, tilted down for a sweet kiss, his eyes scanning the room. "The girls here?"

"Well, some girls are here, not sure if they're Alexis and Ruby."

"Huh?"

She shrugged, took the pizzas and set them on the dining table. "Those two are always up to some silliness. It might be full moon crazies here in Beverly Hills tonight, Russ. Fair warning."

He shook his head and chuckled. "Bring it on."

She handed him a beer before heading back to the guest room. Knocking politely, she reached to turn the knob. Locked. "Hey. Pizza. Come on, ladies."

There was shuffling and thumps then silence.

"Alexis? Ruby? I said, dinner."

"Uh, be out in a minute, Carla! Promise."

It wasn't a minute, it was more than twenty minutes and Carla was stomping her way to the guest room when the door opened. She didn't wait for an explanation. They were still in stealth mode, looking like a pair of Nancy Drew Mata-Haris. "You two get your butts out to the table now. I've never seen you be so rude." They slid past her and she followed them to the dining room.

"Well, Russ. One of these…strange people is Alexis," the one on the left lifted a hand, "and the other is Ruby." Another semi-wave.

"G'day, ladies. Glad to meet you," he reached out a hand but no shake was coming from either girl. "Alrighty then. Maybe we should just eat." He served slabs of pizza, setting plates in front of each girl, Carla and finally himself then decided to get another beer. It could be a long night.

"What are you doing?" Carla hissed when he left the table. "Take those stupid disguises off!"

"Can't Carla. We're here to save you. Shh! He's coming back."

Carla watched in silence. The girls nibbled at pizza and Russ wolfed down three pieces before the proverbial shit hit the fan.

Ruby stood straight and pointed to the living room. "We'll all go in there now."

Russ chuckled and followed the line of females. He settled beside Carla and dropped an arm over her shoulder but Ruby had other plans.

"Mr. Crowe, we need you to sit over there," she pointed across the room.

"Yes, ma'am."

"This," announced Alexis in a firm voice, "is an intervention."

"Alexis! This is ridiculous!"

"Hush Carla, trust me, I know what I'm doing. We're here to help you. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but soon you will thank us," Lex said quickly and Carla shot a glance to Russ.

"Let them continue," he grinned.

"Thank you, sir. This," Ruby pulled a picture from the back pages of her notebook, "is our serious concern. Until yesterday, your sister and I were not aware of the questionable character of the man in this photo. It has come to our attention that you are dating this…this…"

"Gigolo!" Lex spat and shot a pointed finger at Russ who shrank back in mock terror.

Carla took the photo, eyed it carefully, tilted her head and grinned. "Oh, I've seen this one," she reached across to give it to Russ. "One of my favorites. You look hot."

"Hey thanks, love," his chuckled became a giggle.

"Good gravy! This is worse than we thought," cried Ruby dramatically. "Plan B!" And both girls fell to their knees at Carla's feet. They shouted and talked over each other until she raised her hands in frustration.

"Whoa! One at a time, what in the world are you talking about?"

Alexis sniffled, ran her gloved finger under the rim of the dark glasses to collect her tears. "Sis, I'm so scared for you. Look at him! He's a terrible man! He looks mean and nasty. He looks like a…pimp," she gasped and sobbed harder. "I don't want him to have any power over you. That's why we're wearing all this stuff. If he can't make us look at him, he can't take over our minds. Please, make him go away! Please don't ever see him again! I love you Carla, I don't want to lose you to drugs or to some gang or - "

"The Mafia! Carla , please make him leave!" Ruby was crying too and all Carla could do was fight back the laughter that was pulling in her belly.

But behind the girls, across the room, she watched Russ stand slowly. The look on his face was not one of humor, not one of dismissal or indignity. She could see in his very demeanor that Russ was taking this all very seriously. She straightened her shoulders and decided to let him handle it. After all, it was he who was in question.

"Alexis, Ruby, come. Sit down."

They were resistant, but finally sat on the love seat next to each other, eyes lowered, gloved hands clasped tight. Russ dragged the ottoman close and sat in front of them with a sigh. He reached up and removed the dark glasses and hats, then tenderly took each hand and tugged off the pristine white gloves.

"You can look at me, girls." He pushed wisps of loose golden hair from Alexis' face. "Darlin', I got no power over anybody. I'm just a man, love," he sighed softly. "I have a wonderful home in Australia. I got great parents, just like you. I love my mum and my dad, and I have a niece just about your age. I'm not the man from the movies, and I'm not the man in that picture. I'm just me."

They sere silent, then finally Alexis raised her eyes, took in his humble attitude, and slowly smiled.

"Lex, I'd never do anything to hurt Carla. I love her, darlin'. She one of the most special ladies I know. Can ya give me a chance here?"

Lex looked to Ruby who seemed completely enthralled with Russ's face and voice. Without turning, she nodded. "Yeah, give him a chance. He's lying though, he does have power," she grinned wide. "I hope you win the Academy Award, Mr. Crowe."

w

The remainder of the evening was filled with laughter and cold pizza and when the girls left, Russ got what he wanted most, a hug from each, as well as the opportunity to meet Carla's mother.

Carla watched him collect dirty dishes and gather pizza boxes and her heart swelled. Could she love a man more? And could she have gotten herself into a more impossible relationship? She knew from the moment she met him, it was temporary. The Oscar nomination had driven that reality home for her…and her heart was determined to enjoy every remaining moment she had with him. Soon, if not this time, he'd win it and his life would take on monumental proportions that left no room for her. He said he loved her, and she loved him…but it was not the kind of love to survive what was to come and she could tell…they both knew it. Carla would always love the man who could calm and console her littler sister the way he did.

"Take a load off, Pimp Daddy Russ," she teased and patted the cushion beside her.

When he thumped a slouch on the sofa, she turned and kissed is cheek. His hand cupped her face; he kissed her lips and did that moan that sent shivers through her. A sound that said he loved the feel of her, the taste and scent of her. Desire flooded through every vein and she stood. There before him, she slowly removed every stitch of her clothing, watching his eyes as she did; watching the glitter in his smile and the twitch of his fingers. She loosened his jeans and dragged them to his ankles, removed his shoes and slid the denim from his feet. Carla lowered a soft kiss to the tip of his straining cock then straddled his hips.

She had never done that with him. She and Russ were bed lovers. They adored the slow, easy rolling and shifting of a soft mattress. She needed something different. Something to remember forever. With a sure move, she impaled herself on his solid shaft with a loud moan. He too was gasping, groaning. He pulled her closer, bringing a breast to his mouth and suckled, teased, nipped, lapped. He demanded long deep kisses. His fingers tightened on her hips, bruising as his own hips drove up and deep.

Russ watched her face when she straightened, dropped her head back. He watched his cock slide in and out. But behind the visual were the thoughts. So much might change the next night. If he won, things might get crazy. He'd have to work much harder to keep her close. Much, much harder. But soon, soon. A year from yesterday, twelve short months, fifty two weeks…three hundred and sixty four days from that moment. He envisioned the diamond ring he would purchase. Heard himself ask her. But…

Deep in the pit of his stomach he felt it. He would lose Carla. It was destined to happen. It was no one's fault, just life. And the speeding freight train that was his life would win. He knew it.

After his explosive ejaculation filled her…after she'd dropped into his arms…after he held her tight and soothed her…he knew he had no choice but to face the reality and appreciate whatever time they had left. A tear dripped from his eye and he kissed her madly, sucked and savored, committed the moment to his heart forever. "Carla, I will always love you," he choked softly.

"I know," was all she said. "I know."