Spin Cycle's Blog (9)

Savannah stood at Carmen’s door looking like a drowned rat. Her hair was dripping wet and beginning to soak the shoulders of her lime green swimsuit cover-up. Her eyes were bloodshot red from crying. It appeared she was wearing only the cover-up. No swimsuit, no shoes, but plenty of service. Big Rob, her ten-foot tall bodyguard stood behind her, dark eyes peering down at the two of them, arms folded threateningly. Someone once told Carmen those arms "were like steel bars that could make a man s… Continue

Carmen breezed past security at the entrance of the hotel and made a quick dash for the elevator. If she didn’t take an Imitrex within the next ten minutes, her migraine would put her out of commission for two days. Once in the suite, she efficiently popped the tiny pill and collapsed on the bed, kicking off her suede Prada loafers one at a time. She willed herself to think but the pounding in her head was commanding all of her attention. Savannah was sure to be at the door any minute and Carme… Continue

Kidd says he needs 100 unique users to comment on his book or he's going to stop writing. "I don't mind doing the radio show for less than a hundred people," Kidd told me, "but this writing is HARRRRD." If you want Kidd to keep writing, go to the Spin Cycle member page and leave a comment. Encourage him! Beg him! I'm just the chick posting these chapters and I want MORE! Continue

Carmen exited the toll road in the uptown area and did something rare for her. She paid herself a compliment. Maybe I am pretty good at this. Just minutes before, she had deposited Alex at DFW airport with a first class ticket and a big smile on his face. "Yeah, she don't know what she's givin' up right?" Alex asked to no one in particular and he's climbed out of the car with his beat-up gym bag. "Have a safe trip, Carmen had said. "I know things are going to turn out great for you." Alex ran in… Continue

March 1998 "C'mon, baby. We've got a three-hour drive. We've got to get movin'.” Savannah's mom stood over her bed, seemingly oblivious that her nine-year old daughter had just gone to bed four hours before. The sun was no match for her daughter's cheap, gauzy bedroom curtains and cast a shower of light over the small twin bed. "Mommy, I'm soooo tired!" Savannah said, as she pulled the pillow from behind her head and used it to cover her face. "Can I sleep one more hour?" Kristy… Continue

Carmen Tavares ignored the first three rings of the cell before she realized she just couldn't do it. "I'm so sorry", she said to the woman giving her a facial. The woman responded by swiping the hot towel from her face. She quickly glanced at the number on the cell phone screen and pushed 'send'. "Hi babe, what's up?" she said casually to the single biggest star in the world. "I need you. Come now.” Less demanding than pouty. Carmen knew by instinct this was no emergency. It was a repeat of a d… Continue

The valet at Sketch Spa wasted no time delivering the Mercedes SL500. The car was a gift from Savannah and a major compromise from the star. Savannah wanted Carmen to have a limo and driver but Carmen knew she would then be a hostage to wherever her client wanted her to be. Carmen insisted on having her own car and the next day a brand new SL500 with a big red bow on the hood was parked in the roundabout. That first time behind the wheel was pretty strange. This was an extravagance she had never… Continue

Tommy Caraba collapsed on the couch in his sparse, modern corner office. The couch was the perfect vantage point for a panoramic view of midtown Manhattan, but Tommy only noticed it when he was pointing it out to an easily-impressed visitor from out of town. Today was not a good day. As head of A&R (artist and repertoire) for the biggest record label in the world, Caraba was the gatekeeper for all Solaris product. He found it, he developed it, he babysat it, and if he needed to, he whipped i… Continue

Carmen knew she wouldn't have to venture far to find Savannah's latest love. With the few dollars she'd given him, he was probably in the lobby of the hotel, or the cool bar inside, Dragon Fly. She was wrong on both counts. Alex stood around the corner from the valet line, leaning against a giant terra cotta plot with a wild Japanese bush flailing over its sides. Predictably, he was dumping his ashes among the expensive sod that was charged with keeping the exotic plant alive. At first glance, h… Continue