Portrait of a Daytime Diva

By J.P. Bowie

Olivia Winters, the elegant and beautiful star of a popular daytime talk show finds her perfect world begin to unravel when she receives threatening letters from a religious fanatic. In addition, enter Brad Kingman, her ex-lover, intent on blackmailing his way back into her life.

Olivia had recently interviewed artist Peter Brandon and his partner P.I. Jeff Stevens after a magazine had reported their near-brushes with death while investigating criminal cases. Nick-named 'The Gay Hardy Boys' they are a hit on her show although unaware that they are partly the reason for the threatening letters.

When Olivia asks Peter to paint her portrait he soon becomes embroiled in the chaotic life of the daytime diva. He also begins to realize that Olivia is not the warm and compassionate woman she appears to be in front of her adoring fans.

As the threatening letters increase in number and the content switches from fire and brimstone judgement to a much more personal attack, Jeff and his business partner, Nick Fallon, reluctantly agree to investigate the matter. They are hampered by Olivia's erratic behavior and her obsessive need for publicity that just might mean humiliation for their close friends.

A murder, a suicide and an attempted murder may be the catalysts that will bring Olivia's career to a grinding halt. Who can she turn to in her hour of need? Who indeed…

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.P. Bowie
• Release date: May 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386968863

Book preview

Author’s Note

Portrait of a Daytime Diva was originally titled A Portrait of Olivia and was the fifth in the ‘Portrait’ series. Back when the series was re-released by MLR Press this one kind of missed the bus, don’t know why really. It also was never released in ebook form which I have remedied now with this re-edited version.

It could be viewed as a sequel to A Portrait of Emily as it brings back several of the characters featured in that story but is set after A Self Portrait and also furthers the relationship between Nick Fallon and Eric who have moved from New York to Laguna Beach, California. Nick is now Jeff’s business partner and Eric manages Peter’s art gallery.

There are also references to other characters from previous books in the series.

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Architectural Digest Condé Nast

Johnnie Walker Scotch John Walker & Sons Ltd.

Jack Daniels Brown Forman Corp.

Sardi’s Restaurant

Dom Pérignon Champagne Moét & Chandon

Oh! Calcutta! by Kenneth Tynan

Corvette Chevrolet General Motors

Mercedes-Benz International

BMW Z4 Bayerische Motoren Werke

A&E Hearst Communications/Disney Corporation

Colt ’45 Colts Manufacturing Company

Apple iPhone X

Sesame Street Jim Henson & Company

The Trevor Project

I want to thank the many people who have encouraged me on my writing journey over the years, some who are unfortunately no longer with us. Thank you, Vince, Carol, James, Godfrey, Carol Lynne, Mavis, Michael, Laura, Kris, Claire, Nicki, Sue, Geof, Ted, Phil (my husband who has endless patience) … And a major ‘thank you’ to my readers without whom I would be kind of wasting my time!

Chapter One

It was the kind of showplace seen in the glossy pages of Architectural Digest. One of the finest penthouse homes to be found in Beverly Hills, California. Spacious rooms, the floors covered in thick white carpeting, accented with honey oak wood in the hallways, dining room and kitchen. Giant sliding glass doors led out to a wide tiled verandah that overlooked well-manicured lawns, carefully clipped trees and bushes surrounding a sparkling lap pool. The place reeked of money and good living and was owned by one of the most successful women on daytime television―Olivia Winters.

Olivia Winters, one-time weather woman for a small TV station in Lincoln, Nebraska, now the almost undisputed ruler of the afternoon talk shows, nationwide. Five times a week millions of devoted fans sat glued to their television sets as Olivia paraded a host of the biggest celebrities in front of them. It was rumored throughout the gossip mill, that to refuse an invitation to appear on Olivia’s show was tantamount to career suicide, and since she’d hit the big time, no one had. Most of the time these famous people would sit with an almost quiet humility, while Olivia bombarded them with searching questions about their careers and personal lives.

Only Bette Midler had had the temerity to tell Olivia to mind her own fucking business, the expletive, of course, being beeped out for the broadcast. Olivia had appeared to have taken the slap with jovial good humor, but later she was overheard telling her program director she’d never ask that bitch back on her show―something that several of Bette’s friends knew had been the star’s intention.

Now, seated on a divan in the center of the living room, clad in a white silk evening gown that accented the honey sheen of her skin, Olivia strove to keep this languid pose for the artist who stood at his canvas, concentrating on the image he was creating.

Olivia narrowed her dark green eyes as she watched the artist at work. What a cutie, she thought. She’d always had a thing for young, blond white men, especially with blue eyes, and Olivia couldn’t remember ever seeing a man with eyes as blue as his. Cobalt blue, and when he smiled, they sparkled. Jeez, she would love to add this one to her long list of lovers.

Not that there was much chance of that. Why are so many good-looking guys fags? God, what she could do with that trim, athletic body. Betcha he’s hung too. Her eyes slid down to the artist’s crotch and before she could stop herself she parted her lips and moistened them with the tip of her tongue. Oh yeah, I bet he’s a big boy all right.

Getting tired? Peter Brandon put down his paintbrush and smiled at her.

Olivia startled as he broke into her reverie. Oh no, no... She returned his smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight blush that had risen into her cheeks. He had caught her unawares and she felt slightly put out. She rose from the divan. Well, seeing as how you’ve stopped for the moment, let’s take a break. Why don’t I ring for some refreshments?

Thank you, that’d be great.

She walked with a graceful tread to an intercom on one of the walls. Pressing one of the buttons, she said sharply, Joyce?

Yes ma’am?

Bring Mr. Brandon and me a glass of that Chardonnay I like―and some munchies.

Right away, ma’am.

Olivia watched as Peter cleaned off his brushes and packed them away, then she gestured to the luxurious leather sectional by the window. Take a load off. Walking over to the easel she studied her likeness on the canvas.

I look good, Peter. I like it. She smiled as she joined him on the couch. You’re a talented guy, Peter. You live up to your reputation. I like that.

Thank you.

I’ll be showing this portrait to millions of viewers on my show. It’s gonna increase your prestige as an artist like never before. You’ll be called on from all over the world, people begging you to paint them, though God knows, some of them shouldn’t bother. But what can y’do?

She gave out a brittle little laugh. "I mean, have you seen some of those bitches without their make-up? You should see what I have to look at when they come to the studio. Some of them need ten make-up artists to just make ’em decent enough for the camera. I should keep a stock of Spackle handy for some of them. Ha-ha!"

She fell silent as a young girl in a maid’s outfit entered the room carrying a silver tray on which stood two crystal glasses filled with white wine, and a plate of hors d’oeuvres.

Olivia stared at the glasses. That better be chilled enough.

Yes, ma’am.

The young girl’s hands trembled as she lowered the tray onto the table in front of them. She gave Olivia a little curtsey before she left the room.

Olivia gave out a heavy sigh. Help, such a liability. Where was I? Oh, yeah. Now me, I was born with this skin. Me and Halle―Halle Berry that is. We’re blessed with perfect skin. Look, no wrinkles, no moles, no blotches. She paused in her discourse and picked up her glass. Hey, here’s mud in your eye.

Cheers, Peter murmured.

Olivia’s eyes flickered with annoyance as she spotted him giving his watch a surreptitious glance. You have somewhere to go?

Only home. He gave her a boyish smile. It’s Jeff’s birthday. We’re not celebrating until tomorrow, but―

Oh, I wish I had known. Olivia’s lips formed a moue of disappointment. Why didn’t you tell me? I want to take you guys out to celebrate.

It’s just a few friends at our place...

But let me do something. Olivia’s voice held an almost plaintive note. You know I love Jeff. She grabbed an iPhone from the side table and scrolled through her schedule.

Olivia, this really isn’t necessary. Jeff can come up with me on our next session and we could have a drink or―

Great idea! We’ll go out. Sardi’s or someplace just as great. Just leave it to me. She put the iPhone back on the table.

Please don’t go to any trouble.

Are you kidding? It’s no trouble to be seen out on the town with two hot lookin’ guys like the both of you.

Peter looked at his watch again. Olivia, I’m sorry. Would you mind if we called it a day? The traffic’s going to be a bitch soon and I wanted to be home before Jeff got there.

I’ll just bet you do, you little devil. Olivia leered at him. Oh, you guys! Tell me, who’s top man?

Peter’s face flamed as she let out a raucous laugh. Gotcha! Peter, you are such a prude.

Not really.

"Yes, you are. She stood and held her arms open. Give me a hug, shy boy, then run home to your lover. I never want to get in the way of true love. Olivia wrapped her arms around him then put her hands on his backside and pulled him in tight. Mmm, she murmured, her lips against his neck. If you ever want to try the real thing, just let me know. She laughed again as she released him. Tell Jeff I said ‘Happy Birthday’ won’t you?"

I’ll tell him. Peter kissed her cheek then headed for the door. He paused, and hesitated before saying, Uh, Olivia, if you’re not busy tomorrow, maybe you’d like to come to Jeff’s party? It’s from five on and very casual.

Gee honey, that’s so nice of you, but I have a bunch of meetings and all. Thanks anyway.

Okay. Well, I’ll see you next week.

Olivia watched him leave, her smile quickly fading. She picked up her wineglass and threw back its contents. Joyce? she yelled. Bring me the rest of that bottle!

***

"I cannot stand this," Peter moaned within the confines of his car as he pulled out of Olivia’s driveway. Why, oh why, had he ever agreed to this? Or rather when had it started to become such a chore? It had all seemed so fantastic in the beginning. There had been a phone call from Olivia’s manager, Brenda Shapiro, telling him that Olivia had read the article People magazine had done about him and Jeff, and she wanted them on her show.

Peter had not quite believed it. The Olivia Winters’ Hour was peopled with mega-celebrities and Peter had never considered himself remotely in that league. After he’d put the phone down, he had called Jeff with the news.

She wants me there too? he’d asked, surprised. But why? You’re the talent.

Well, from what I could gather from her manager, she’s also into the crime busting aspect. You know, the ‘Gay Hardy Boys bit’ that the media dubbed us.

Oh. Jeff was quiet for a moment. What do you think? I’ve never seen her show, have you?

A couple of times. Mom likes it, so I’ve watched it with her. It’s okay.

Well, I guess it might be fun.

That’s kinda what I thought. So I’ll say yes when they call back?

I guess. Nick can take over at the office for the day. He paused. I’ve never been on TV before. What the heck do you say?

Peter laughed. You answer questions. It’s all recorded beforehand, so if we mess up no one will know.

He sighed as he remembered how excited his mother had been when he told her they were to be interviewed by Olivia. Better wear your best dress, he’d teased her.

What do you mean?

Well, there’s no way I could let you miss out on all the excitement, Mom. You’ll be coming with us.

***

The day of the recording, Peter and Jeff had a taste of what it felt like to be treated as ‘very famous people’. Early that morning a limo arrived at their home to take them to the studio. While Eve was escorted to her seat in the theatre, they were shown to a luxurious green room where they were told Olivia would meet with them prior to the recording. In the meanwhile, would they care for some light refreshments?

In the middle of them tackling a large plate of sandwiches, Olivia and Brenda had descended on them. Peter was impressed with the physical presence of the daytime diva. Tall and slender, she was elegant in an off-white silk pantsuit that clung in all the right places to her curvaceous body. Her hair, arranged in tiny ringlets framing her fine-boned face, was made even more beautiful by an artist’s skillful application of makeup. Her dark green eyes gleamed under long black eyelashes and the honeyed darkness of her skin lent her an exotic appeal. No one could deny that Olivia Winters was a beautiful woman.

Peter, ever the artist, found himself examining the planes and contours of her face with a critical eye until he was brought up short, startled, by her braying laugh.

"Oh – My – God. She stood, hands on hips, studying the two men before her. You guys are even more gorgeous in real life. Shit, no one’s gonna be looking at me today! She laughed again and then, with a mercurial shift in attitude smiled sweetly. Hi, I’m Olivia." She held out her hand and Peter then Jeff took it while murmuring polite hellos. Brenda, a short, stocky woman with brassy blonde hair cut short, handed them a list of possible questions Olivia might ask.

Any objections to any of those?

They both skimmed through the seemingly banal, routine list. Not that I can see, Jeff said. Maybe you can spice it up a little so we don’t bore everyone to death.

Olivia’s laughter rang out again. Oh, I like you. We’ll do just fine. Okay guys. Relax till we need you. The makeup guys will have an easy day of it with you two. Ha ha! With that she swept out, Brenda in her wake.

Wow, Jeff murmured. Guess she’s what they call larger than life.

She’s a one off, that’s for sure, Peter agreed. Well, let’s finish off these sandwiches. I’m still famished.

They watched the start of the show on the monitor in the green room and marveled at the stunning difference between Olivia, the woman they had just met, and the daytime show host. Now she was everyone’s best friend, chatting with the audience, cracking jokes, patting old ladies on the shoulder and rubbing noses with small kids.

After about ten minutes of this fluff, she began to tell the story of a young artist who had been viciously attacked and left for dead in an alleyway in Los Angeles. With a start, Peter realized she was talking about him. Both he and Jeff sat forward in their seats as Olivia, her face set in an expression of deep concern and sincerity, detailed the extent of his injuries and trauma.

"He was in a coma for three years ladies and gentlemen, three years. Three years, when his talent as an artist went to waste, when his friends and loved ones lived in despair that he would ever recover. Three years of desolation for his poor mother, who just happens to be here today, folks. Can you imagine how it was for her when he at last recovered and she had to tell him that his friend, his dearest friend, Phillip, had been killed in that attack? Where are you Eve? Stand up, and let this audience see for themselves the beautiful, brave and determined woman you are!"

Amid wild applause, Peter watched as his mother, suffused in embarrassment, stood and acknowledged the cheers. Olivia then left the stage and walked up the aisle, her arms spread wide before her, ready to embrace Peter’s brave mother.

Oh lord, Peter groaned. This is even worse than I thought.

Jeff chuckled. Are you kidding? Eve will be the talk of Laguna after this show.

The door to the green room was flung open and a young man beckoned them. We’re ready for you guys, he told them. Follow me, please.

Can I change my mind now? Peter whispered.

No, Jeff whispered back, giving him a push. Just grin and bear it.

They stood on the side of the stage as Olivia continued her dialogue. As happens in the best of tales, this one has a happy ending, and here to finish the story is the artist, Peter Brandon, and his partner, the private investigator who helped bring the murderers to justice, Jeff Stevens!

You’re on, the young man said behind them, and they walked out into the blinding lights and the sound of applause. Olivia stood in a statuesque pose, arms spread wide to receive her guests. Graciously, she accepted their perfunctory kiss on the cheek, then gestured toward the dais where three reproduction antique chairs were positioned.

So, Olivia said with a smile as they sat down. How are you both today?

Just fine, Jeff said, returning her smile. Peter could not help noticing that most of the women in the audience seemed entranced by Jeff’s appearance, and he couldn’t blame them. Jeff’s thick chestnut brown hair, strong features and sensual mouth gave him a movie star quality that Peter was sure was being captured by the TV cameras. Olivia fluttered her eyelashes at him then smiled at them both.

You guys look great. She turned to her audience. Don’t they look terrific, folks? A roar of approval followed her question and she beamed with satisfaction. There now, so tell me Peter, what was your first thought when you woke up after three years?

My first thought? Peter had been asked this question countless times, and couldn’t for the life of him remember a first thought. Actually, I think I was more surprised than anything else to find that I was in a hospital bed. Then of course, when my mother told me what had happened to Phillip, I was stunned and he became all I could think of.

Olivia looked at him with quiet compassion. It must have been so dreadful for you, she murmured. And you remembered nothing of the attack?

Right. Peter looked at Jeff and smiled. It took this man to wake me up to the reality that I was in denial over the whole thing.

Olivia turned to Jeff. You were hired to investigate Phillip’s murder, right Jeff?

He nodded. A mutual friend suggested that Peter call me and I went down to Laguna to talk to him and see if he remembered anything at all about the attack. The camera zoomed in for a close up as Jeff related his part of the story. I found out he hadn’t even read the newspaper accounts of the attack, and frankly, I found that amazing, and I told him so. He got very defensive and after a few tense words between us, he threw me out of his house.

Oh, my God! Olivia hooted and the audience gave forth with ripples of good-natured laughter. "Peter, what were you thinking?"

Well, he was pushing too hard.

Then what happened?

He came back a few minutes later, Peter said, grinning. My mother was there and kind of smoothed things over. I let him talk me into revisiting the scene of the crime.

Wow, Olivia interjected. That must have been tough.

Yes, it was. Jeff picked up the story. But it did have the results I had hoped for. I also think it strengthened Peter’s psychic link with Phillip. He had a vision, there in the alley where they were attacked, and he more or less had a mental image of one of the perpetrators.

Incredible, Olivia whispered. The audience was quiet as they listened with rapt attention. Later, you drew this man, isn’t that right, Peter?

Peter nodded. Yes, and Jeff recognized him as an ex-cop he’d had a run in with when they were both on the force. He went on to tell the rest of the story, but as always left out the part of Senator Bowman’s involvement. He and Jeff had both decided that they should spare Bowman’s family the additional pain of scandal, after the Senator’s death, in a freak road accident.

After the commercial break, Olivia steered the conversation to the case involving Emily and Anthony Hastings and the abuse they had suffered at the hands of their father. Jeff took that opportunity to mention the good work that was being done by many volunteer associations to house and care for abused and abandoned children. To the delight of the studio audience and amid loud applause, Olivia immediately pledged a large amount of money to that cause.

And then in New York… Olivia prompted them, You solved yet another case while you were on what you thought would be a Christmas break.

Yes, Peter replied. We’d gone to visit our friends, Andrew and David, and in the middle of everything, an acquaintance of Andrew’s was murdered and poor Andrew was, for a time, the prime suspect.

And again, Jeff said, it was Peter’s psychic ability that helped us unravel the mystery. Without him alerting us to the fact that Andrew and the real murderers were about to face off in a hotel room, Andrew and my business partner, Nick Fallon who was an NYPD detective at the time, would most certainly have been killed.

Olivia nodded, wide-eyed. Tell us more about those psychic abilities, Peter.

"Well, I used to downplay it as an ability. It could be so erratic and vague, but during the time when a madman had my mother and friends in his clutches, it all sort of came to fruition. I truly felt linked to Phillip, like he was right beside me, helping Jeff and myself find my mother by guiding us to the place where she and our friends were being held hostage."

"Amazing. Olivia paused and gazed out at her audience for a moment, her eyes filled with seeming wonder. Then, she continued in a subdued tone. And this link with Phillip, is it still there?

I believe so. Peter smiled at her. But, it’s not like he’s hanging around over our heads all the time, he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little. He just shows up when we’re in trouble.

Like a guardian angel, Olivia murmured.

Something like that, Peter told her, feeling a tad uncomfortable and hoping she’d change the subject. To his relief, because time was running short, Olivia turned to the topic of Peter’s artwork, with an emphasis on his portraiture. She had several photographs of Peter’s work that had been on exhibition throughout the country.

This is an amazing talent, Peter, she gushed, to more applause from the audience. Now, I want to ask you if you will do me the great favor of painting my portrait?

I would be honored, Peter answered sincerely, never for a moment realizing he would come to regret this decision.

The rest of the interview had gone by quickly. Both men were impressed with Olivia’s skillful questioning and the fact that she seemed to hang on every word they had to say. At the end, the audience rose it its feet and applauded, while Olivia stood, holding both Peter and Jeff’s hands.

Great show guys, she told them later. The follow up, after you’ve painted me, should be just as good. She greeted Eve with warmth, and ordered Brenda to crack a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Amid a welter of bonhomie and congratulations,