Lindsay Davis Journal
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April 22, 2008
*sitting in my den, smiling as I use my password to open my secret diary*
Things have been happening fast. Barbara Barton's husband, Bradley, was shot and killed by a mugger in a parking lot as he left his Barton Publishing office. Rumors abound regarding Barbara and Carl Cameron possibly wanting Bradley out of the way.
I've met with the seductive Barbara many times over the last few months and I was suspicious because of her loose habits, late nights away from home, and noticing her messing around with first Seamus Clark and then Carl Cameron in public.
However, since the murder, I'm beginning to have second thoughts. I took her home in a drunken state from Mahoney's two weeks ago to save her from the guys salivating over the possibility of nailing her that night. Even though she is a tasty item, I merely undressed her and put her in bed where she slept it off.
In the morning she was funny as hell. wondering just how she wound up naked in my bed, and if her bi-virginity was still safely intact. I told her that I hadn't taken advantage of her, then took her downstairs to the Palm Court for brunch.
We talked a lot that day and she swore that she had nothing to do with the mugger that killed her husband. I read people pretty well, a requirement for a good gossip columnist, and I now believe her. Was she happy that her husband was now out of the way? Yes! Did she have anything to do with the way it actually happened? I don't believe so.
I did keep laying a hand on her knee at every opportunity, something she recognized as interest, and last week we left the Four Seasons together when she invited me to come see her nice, five story, brownstone home in the Upper Eastside. I'm still not sure who seduced whom that night, but she was a marvelous partner in bed.
I'll be anxious now to see just how this situation ends. That police detective, Scotty Valens, is still watching her like a hawk, but with Katie Donovan protecting her, they haven't been able to pin her to the crime.
My friend, Rafe Micheals, tells me that Barbara is quite upset over a Detroit gangster named Cody Boyd now floating around in New York City. I did some private checking and Boyd was on a flight from Detroit the Friday night that Bradley was murdered, so he obviously wasn't the mugger.
I plan to ask Barbara point blank what the deal is with this Cody Boyd fellow.
*closing my diary with a little smile*
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March 2, 2008
*sitting in my den, smiling as I use my password to open my secret diary*
Last Sunday I woke up smiling, anxiously waiting to hear from my paparazzi source. Sure enough there was a message from Gina Reynolds on my email saying she had some pretty nice photos of Barbara Barton and Carl Cameron leaving the taxi and entering the Barton home at 100 East 78th Street at approximately 12:45 am. It was impossible to get any close ups of them screwing without sneaking in the house, something not wise at this early stage, but she did watch a dim lamp go on in what was probably the third floor bedroom. Carl never left, obviously spending the night. She caught a few more photos of them leaving on Sunday morning where Carl took Barbara off for brunch.
I just love my job as a gossip columnist and of course I filled Rachel in as we had brunch in the Palm Court. Miss Barton is certainly having a fun time with her husband out of town. There is no doubt in everybody's mind that both Seamus and Carl are getting in her pants. After meeting Bradley, I can see why.
Donovan Kline is back in the city and I enjoyed spending Saturday evening with him. He's hot, and he kept teasing me while I tried to finish my column and fax it in. The sex was fantastic, but I lay there later while Doni slept away, wondering if Barbara was having fun with Bradley.
*signing off with a smile*
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January 23, 2008
*sitting in my den, smiling as I use my password to open my secret diary*
I really enjoyed spending last weekend in Wisconsin with Diego to watch our New York Giants upset the Green Bay Packers, 23-to 20. Most of this anybody can read in my New York Times gossip column, but here in my private journal, I can record everything that happened.
We were hosted by Phil Bonnano and his pretty blonde wife, Sara. Phil runs Bonnano Industries, a firm similar to Diego's operations in New York City.
Sara had never met me before and I knew when we were introduced that she gave me the once over look that I'd seen many times before. I nudged Diego to keep his mouth shut and played the Miss Innocence role.
Sara actually loaned me heavy winter clothing to wear to the football game on Sunday night since it was really cold, hovering around zero with a wind chill factor of around minus 25 degrees. When we got back to the hotel where we were staying, Sara took me in their bedroom to shed the heavy clothing we were wearing. I was still wearing slacks and a blouse when Sara said she might as well put on her jammies before we joined the men out front near the fireplace.
I tried to look real innocent, even feigning a blush, as she stripped down to just her panties and fetched her flannel jimmies out of her suitcase. She walked over, real close, and said quietly, "First time you've been this close to a naked woman, Lindsay?"
I stumbled around looking shy responding, "Ahhh…. are you actually…. aahhh…. hitting on me, Sara?"
"Would that upset you?" was her answer, " I know Diego has to be fucking you or you wouldn't be here with him." Her eyes sparkled as she traced a finger down my cheek, actually teasing my lower lip.
I continued to play coyly, like a startled bird caught by surprise. "I wasn't expecting this, Sara. I've never……. you know….."
She closed the remaining distance and kissed me. I played it out perfectly as the seduction continued, letting her lead the way. Having seduced many women myself, I knew exactly what turns the seductress on and played the role to the hilt. I whispered those nice little things, "Oh my…. I don't know if, " as she unbuttoned my blouse and touched my breast.
She stopped at that point, since we did have to go out and sit with the guys, but she said she'd take me shopping in Milwaukee tomorrow while Phil kept Diego company and paid off his wager.
The seduction continued in Victoria's Secret dressing rooms the next day and we consummated the delicious affair in her bedroom later that afternoon. Diego knocked on the door and told me we had to leave an hour later.
I've written Sara a thank you letter, telling her just how much I'd enjoyed our little tryst and inviting her to New York City. I'm sure she'll talk Phil into a little visit.
*signing off with a smile*
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January 10, 2007
*sitting in my den, smiling as I use my password to open my secret diary*
What a nice surprise last night! It was Eoin Ryan on the phone from the Plaza Hotel lobby asking if he could come up to deliver my numbers winnings.
I had lunch that afternoon with Tammi and she couldn't stop telling me what a stud this new Irishman was. Diego hired Eoin to take over the numbers racket after Denny heartily recommended Eoin. Apparently he had experience with similar lottery games in Ireland.
Tammi said that she met Eoin at the Genovese meeting a few weeks ago and she took him home with her to give him his first free massage. She was so impressed with him, she asked Diego if she could "keep" him. Eoin agreed and his new cover up job is working for Tammi as a masseur. She gave him a room on the 4th floor where all the other escorts live, but he's been sleeping mostly in Tammi's place. She said he really has amazing "staying power" aka endurance.
When he called me I, of course, invited him right up. I wanted to find out just what this Irishman had to offer. I dimmed the lights, refilled my wine glass and turned on some soft jazz as background music.
It was apparent at the door when he referred to me as Miss Davis that he had no idea who I really was, or that I often sleep with his new boss, Diego. He said he'd wait until I counted the $2500 in the envelope and signed off the marker.
He said he needed to leave pretty quick, but I insisted that he stay for at least one beer. I walked in the kitchen and fetched him a Guinness, thinking he had to be a heavy ale drinker like most Irishmen. He smiled at my choice and when I intentionally let my skirt ride up as I sat down to count the one hundred dollar bills, his eyes drifted straight down to my stems.
I broke the ice by telling him I'd had lunch with Tammi and heard what a great masseuse he was. He smiled knowingly so I point blank asked him what a massage right here and now might cost me. He said one hundred dollars, the same price we ladies pay for a massage at the Carnegie Hill Spa.
I handed him one of the hundred dollar bills from the envelope, then asked how much the extras might cost. He smiled and said he needed to call Tammi and advise her he might be late getting back since he had a client.
That's when the negotiations began in earnest. He said a nice, plain, slow fuck would set me back a grand. I just smiled and asked what about the extras. His answer was a knowing smile.
The sex was everything he promised and I enjoyed every minute of it. We snuggled in bed together but when I woke up he was gone. He'd taken just the $1400 dollars we negotiated.
*signing off with a smile*
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November 7, 2006
*sitting in my den, opening my journal to add a few things*
Today I had lunch with Diego and Rachel at the Palm Court. Rach was there to collect her $5000 winnings since she always play $10 straight up on 555, the number that hit on Monday at 12,105.55. Diego insisted that she buy lunch, in spite of all her whining.
I had voted early this morning and been following the early results. The only surprise so far was a new name that popped up out of no where on Staten Island, David Dewher. It seems he's a write-in, a total independent favoring no party.
Diego growled when he heard that he's in a dead heat with Amber Valetta. Is he loses, who knows what this Dewher might decide regarding the refuse removal contract for 2007.
I spent Monday night in Mahoney's Irish Pub enjoying the company of a businessman named Michael Harrington. He's new here in New York City and we danced the Green Fields. Decaln and Molly sat at the bar while Barb and Rafe were the bartenders.
We had a little excitement when Rafe got a strange phone call that really upset her. She banged the phone down and swore like a trooper, then headed for the back door. I saw Declan jump up, remove something from the back of his pants and hurry out after her. Most of the customers, fearing an attack of some kind, tossed money on the bar and left. Michael stayed with me, saying he would protect me if there was a problem.
Rafe came back carrying a bottle in a sack and refused to divulge the contents. I could tell though that she was pretty upset. I used my cell phone to call for a taxi and Declan walked Molly and Barb back to Barb's apartment leaving Sam to close up the Pub early.
*closing my journal with a little smile*
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October 28, 2006
*sitting in my den, opening my journal to add a few things*
Yesterday I finally found Molly McGafferty working the day shift at Mahoney's Irish Pub. We had lunch together when she took a break and we discussed the recent loss of her father, her last living relative.
The reason I didn't reach her at home was because she was camping out at Barbara Swan's apartment. I had to smile when she said that she was getting help from Declan Mulqueen, the new Irishman in the Big Apple. I'd spent a couple nice evenings with Declan too, so I know just how good he can make a female feel. I made a mental note there because I know how secretive Declan can be. He obviously knows more about this murder than he's willing to share.
Molly said that although her father's last will and testament disappeared when the killer emptied Patrick's safe, Molly had a copy in a sealed envelope her father had given her to open upon his death. Also in there she found the code numbers to open his safe and instructions to burn his journal and destroy several other documents which she didn't divulge.
She learned that Crane, Poole and Schmidt was the law firm her father employed. Patrick said she should go meet with Denny Crane and Tara Wilson who would help her manage his estate. The small house in Brooklyn was paid for and there was enough money in his savings account and stock investments to make her life much easier. Copies of all his investments were in the Tara Wilson's files.
Molly managed not to cry during our discussion, and asked me to refrain from mentioning all this in my weekly column, even though she knew I had to mention the status of the investigation into her father's death. I assured her that I would hold the personal details in confidence.
After I left, I met with Diego and asked him if he could possibly use his contacts to find out more about why Patrick McGafferty was murdered. Diego assured me it had absolutely nothing to do with any of the Genovese businesses, but said he would do some nosing around. I knew he would talk to Denny Mahoney, since Denny knows more about the Sinn Fein, also referred to as the Fenian Brotherhood. I believe that's where the answer lies.
I made a note to try and bump into Declan again to see what I might be able to learn there/
*closing my journal…. my mind wandering back to my last night with Declan which brought a smile to my face. No wonder Molly has that smile on HER face when mentioning Declan's name*
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June 4, 2006
*returning to my den after a long hard hopeless day, I turned on my computer and started adding to my journal*
Last night, or early this morning, all of my precious jewelry was stolen. The marvelous earrings and bracelets that Diego and a few others had given me are gone, possibly forever. Lt. Joe Friday and CSI agent, Jeff Mallard, went over my Plaza Hotel suite with a fine tooth comb, but they fear what they were able to find won't help much.
There were no fingerprints other then mine in the den or on my safe. The talented burglar sure knew his trade, opening the safe without the use of any tools. Yes, my stuff was insured and some may still be found in various pawn shops, but the odds of finding the thief are slim to none.
My mind always drifts back to Felix, the man I brought home with me after dinner. It was possible he'd put something in my last glass of wine, but a thief? Hardly likely.
The one clue that might let us catch this thief was the fact that the same thief struck the Four Seasons Supper Club the same night and left my jewelry box on Diego's desk. A cruel message to taunt us both? Possibly so, but who and why? I'm sure we both have enough enemies, but they would have found something more serious I fear.
The police say they will try and trace the pawn shops if anything turns up, but they assume my jewelry has already left New York City.
Lisa Cohen did show up at the Palm Court to ask more about what happened, but for now it's not a Federal case.
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May 27, 2006
*after bringing this week's gossip column up to date, I opened my journal which I hadn't touched since April*
It's been a very busy month. Gino claims he won the masturbation contest between him, Rachel and me. I was the early loser, which I blamed on Doni, and Gino tells me that Rachel finally caved in after her most recent photo shoot with Bobby Campbell. I guess that means Bobby failed to get in her pants again. *sighs* She must actually be in love with Mike.
I pressed Gino, saying I couldn't believe he lasted that long. His answer was, "It ain't hard if you're getting laid almost every night, ask Jason!" I'm making a note to self, get laid more often.
I finally met with super model Ana Demetrius when we were both in Bobby's photo studio. He's taking photos of her for a potential front cover for InStyle's June issue. I sat with Ana over a few glasses of wine after the shoots. She owns a mansion out on Long Island, in Oyster Bay actually. She has three servants and I did catch a glimpse of Lucas who drives her limo for her. Talk about eye candy? Yummy, he has that hard look about him, the bad boy type.
I couldn't resist playing with that freshman, Barry Watters. He sure was fun in my hot tub last week. I could tell by the smile on Tammi's face when I mentioned Barry, that she too must have sampled his wares. Rachel has to be the next target on his list. He did manage to get a date with her, but I alerted Mike Miller and he manage to intercede and divert Barry's attack.
*chuckling to myself as I close my journal*
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April 16, 2006
*after faxing in my Sunday gossip column I stayed at my computer, opening up my private journal*
I'm pleased that Eva seemed to hit it off with Donivan last night. I know I'm not the right female for him. He needs a girl of his own, not a gossip columnist like me, that's well known for my relationship with famous guys like Diego, Ben, Jason and even Bobby. My fun in the sun with Anne Heche will no doubt come up in the future.
It was better that I backed off before we did the horizontal rumba, although the foreplay on Friday night was fantastic. He just deserves a girl partner of his own. Maybe Eva isn't even the best choice, but I knew her stunning, seductive beauty would at least get his attention. I want to remain his close friend and confidant, somebody he can bounce ideas off here in the Big Apple.
I hope she honestly tells him about her famous divorce from Walter Macy, before he hears it elsewhere. Walter Macy was the editor of The National Inquirer before he was arrested and jailed for buying that stolen painting. Walter divorced Eva after he found out she was supposedly sleeping with Bobby Campbell, the famous fashion photographer. We'll never know for sure if she actually cheated on Walter with Bobby, but my guess has to be yes. Bobby is clever and uses his photo shoots to get a lot of women in bed. I'm not sure who really seduced whom in our little affair. Hell, I'm as bad as he is.
Rachel keeps saying her true love is Mike Miller, but I know Mike's too busy to keep her satisfied. She has Gino Caruso, Bobby Campbell and now even Jason Maloney sniffing around. I respect the silence I always get when I poke her with questions.
I was the first loser in the masturbation contest between Rachel, Gino and me, but I can blame that on Donivan. He is one handsome man and after refraining from raping him, I needed relief.
*closing my journal and smiling as I head for bed and more relief. At least I've already paid the Piper in the contest. I hope Gino and Rach are both tossing and turning if they still haven't caved
