Chapter 1

At seventeen, Jennifer Rhodes was like any other girl her age except she was a little prettier, a bit more developed and feigned a sophistication to disguise her curiosities, doubts and fears. She had always been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world and was sent to boarding school when she was twelve. At first the girls in her class had looked up to her tried to be her friend because they knew her father was Carter Rhodes, the movie idol of the decade, the secret love of women from ten to one hundred, but as she got older the girls seemed to resent her, called her a snob and excluded her from their activities. Her father had often warned her that there would be people who would resent her purely because she was his daughter, but that it would all pass, so she shouldn't let it upset her too greatly. She had always been close to her father, much closer than she had ever been with her mother, in fact she worshipped him and she tried to remember what he had told her, but at seventeen it wasn't easy to accept being slighted by one's own classmates.

She couldn't help but notice how the conversations would stop when she walked into a room. She couldn't help but hear the snide comments that were made when she turned around to leave and go to her own room, yet she was determined that they would accept her . . . she would make them accept her!

There was one girl who had the room down the hall from her who seemed to be the ringleader. Jenny saw the girls flock to her room, stay there for hours sometimes, yet she had never been invited. The girl was fairly new to the school and she had seemed to act as if she knew a lot of things the other girls didn't know and maybe this was why the girls were always in her room. One Saturday afternoon she decided that she would find out what they talk about behind that closed door, so she walked slowly down the hall and knocked hesitantly at the door.

She could hear the scuffling of papers, the slamming of drawers and giggling before the girl opened the door.

"Oh, it's you," she said sarcastically. "What do you want? Going slumming?"

She just stood there, not knowing what to say, but mustering all her courage she finally asked, "Is it all right if I come in?"

The girls started to giggle again and she shuffled her feet, not knowing whether she should go back to her room, or whether she would be invited in.

"Oh let her come in, Sharon," one of the girls finally said. "Maybe we can educate the little girl!"

Sharon opened the door wider, making a mocking, swooping gesture and ushered her into the room. About seven girls were sitting around on the floor, talking and laughing and Jenny sat down in the middle of them.

"I hope you don't mind my being here," she said, "It's just that I decided not to go to the movies this afternoon, so I thought I'd join you."

"Aren't any of your father's pictures playing this week?" Sharon said maliciously.

Jenny lowered her eyes and blushed, half-embarrassed, half-angry at the girl's comment.

"No, they're not." Jenny answered defensively, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

"What's your father like?" one of the other girls asked, and the others giggled again.

"He's the most wonderful man in the world," Jenny said, "and I wish you'd let my father out of this. I don't make comments about any of your parents."

The girls were silent for a few minutes and then Sharon said, "Well, maybe this little article will interest you about your wonderful father," and she opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a movie fan magazine. The headlines across the cover read, "Hollywood love trysts . . . something for everyone!"

"What has that got to do with my father," Jenny asked, knowing that a lot of the gossip that was printed in this type of magazine was false and just used for sensationalism and to sell the copies.

"It's all about your father and mother." Sharon continued. "This whole story is about their little 'at-home' parties. Don't tell me you didn't know about them?"

"I don't believe you," Jenny said. "That's all a bunch of trash, anyway. Don't know why you'd even buy a magazine like that."

Sharon threw the magazine at Jenny's feet and said, "Read it for yourself, if you don't believe me.

Hesitantly Jenny picked up the magazine and opened to the page of the story. She held the magazine in close to her so the other girls couldn't see the article.

"Oh, you don't have to hide it," Sharon said harshly, "the others have already read it anyway!"

Jenny leafed quickly through the article, studying the pictures of her father that were blazoned across the cheap newsprint pages, the father she adored, with women, women she did not know or had ever heard her father speak of, and several of them were rather cozy. The article spared no detail about the clandestine relationships, the swapping, the orgies that went on behind the closed bedroom doors of her house. She had never spent that much time at home during the past few years, but while she was there for her Christmas and Spring vacations, her parents had had parties, and she had never seen anything like that go on.

"It's all a lie!" she blurted out, after she finished reading the article. "I know my father and he wouldn't do anything like that, my mother wouldn't do anything like that either. They're very happy together so you can go to hell with your magazine!"

She got up and was about to stomp out of the room, but Sharon caught her by the arm and held her. "Don't go yet, you haven't seen half of my collection. It's been sort of my hobby lately since you come from such a colorful, high and mighty family!"

"Why are you doing this to me," Jennifer pleaded, "I've never done anything to hurt you." Tears were beginning to stream down her face, tears of embarrassment, frustration and humiliation.

"Our families don't do this sort of thing. I thought it was interesting and I'm sure you could fill us in on the details if you really wanted to, couldn't you?" Her voice was a challenge and when Jenny looked down the other girls were all staring up at her, waiting for her answer.

"I don't know anything about that article," she stammered. "I know it's just someone's idea of a bad joke. You know how publicity people can be ... anything to sell a story."

"No, we don't know about that kind of thing," Sharon continued, egging her on. "We thought you'd enlighten us!"

"Well, I can't, and I think I'll go now and get some clean, fresh air," she said.

Sharon was standing in front of the door blocking it so she couldn't get out.

"Get the other magazines," she said to one of the girls who was sitting on the floor. "Let's give miss goody-two-shoes a real look at what that handsome, swinging father of hers is doing. He must be some stud!"

"I don't care to see anymore of your filth," Jenny said, trying to reach in back of Sharon to open the door, but she moved in front of the knob so she couldn't reach it.

"Why dorl't you just sit down with the rest of the girls and enjoy yourself. Maybe you can learn something. It's always nice to know what's going on at home, don't you think?" she said, her voice hard and threatening.

She pushed Jenny backwards so that she sprawled across the bed. The other girl handed Sharon the magazines that she had taken out of the drawer and asked, "Are these the ones you mean?"

Jenny looked at the stack of magazines Sharon held in her hands, there must have been twenty of them!

"Yep, that's them," she said, throwing them one by one at Jenny. "Take a look at some of these, Miss Rhodes. See if you still think your father is so special and chaste ... a saint."

Jenny let the magazines lay on the bed, making no effort to pick them up or read the articles. Instead she got to her feet and started to go towards the door again.

"Looks like she needs a little encouragement," Sharon said. The other girls giggled, not knowing what Sharon had in mind, but not questioning her authority.

How could they be so cruel, Jenny thought, tears brimming down her cheeks. What had she ever done to them?

"You'd better sit back down there," she commanded, "or else I'll have ,the other girls hold you while you read them!" There was no doubt in Jenny's mind that she would do exactly that, so reluctantly she went back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Pick them up," Sharon ordered her, and read to us!

Jenny couldn't believe that the other girls would go along with this cruel treatment any longer, but they said nothing.

"I'm going to report you to the dean of women." Jenny said finally. "You know you're not supposed to have this type of magazine in the dormitory and you'll all be campused."

One or two of the girls looked nervous, but Sharon interrupted and said, "I don't think you'll do that. After all, the articles are about your father and if you insist that your father is so great and wholesome, there should be nothing wrong with the magazines. Besides, if you say anything to anybody, your life will be even more miserable than you could ever imagine."

Jenny knew that she wasn't just threatening, that she meant every word of what she said, and she didn't think that she could take any more punishment and chiding from the girls.

"Now ... read to us," Sharon repeated.

She picked up one of the magazines, her hands trembling from anxiety and fear, and flipped through the pages until she came to the article about her father and mother! She began to read, "What movie stars wife says her husband can no longer satisfy her?"

"Oh, that's a good one," one of the girls said, "Go on."

Jenny couldn't believe what she was being forced to read, but continued, "My husband may be the idol of all women, but he's a failure in bed," Mrs. Carter Rhodes was overheard saying. Maybe that is why she has been seen having lunch with a not-so-handsome, but very virile looking younger man the other day in a secluded little restaurant in Hollywood." Jenny stopped reading for a second and looked carefully at the picture of her mother and the back of another man sitting at a small table in some restaurant.

"My mother often has lunch with friends of my fathers," she said, trying to defend her. "What's so strange about that? I'm sure the rest of this is just made up, my parents are very happy."

"I don't write it," Sharon said, "I just read it!"

"Well, you shouldn't waste your time on junk like this, it's not worth it and it's not true!"

She dropped the magazine back onto the bed and just stared down at the floor.

"Don't stop now," Sharon said, "there's others and I want to hear you read them all."

Jenny tried to remember what her father had told her and she tried to convince herself that this was just one of those times when people had nothing better to do than to pick on her because she was the daughter of a celebrity, so she picked up another magazine.

This one had her father's picture embracing one of the leading ladies from his most recent picture, only it wasn't a film cut. She couldn't take her eyes off it for several minutes, remembering vaguely that she had heard her parents arguing one night about this particular woman. Her mother had accused him of fooling around, but he had just laughed it off and said something about not believing everything she read.

She picked up one magazine after the other, reading each article with growing interest, even though she didn't believe what was written in them. Her father had never brought these magazines home, just saying that they weren't worth the paper they were printed on, but now she wondered if maybe he hadn't let her read them because of what they said. Every magazine that Sharon had had a different story or article about her father, but none of them were complimentary! It was hard to believe that of all the magazines that were there not one would have a nice article about him or her mother. When she had finished, she stacked the magazines and handed them back to Sharon.

"May I go now," she asked, walking to the door. "It's been charming." She was being sarcastic, but she didn't want the girls to know how deeply hurt she was or how concerned about what she had read.

"Yeah, sure . . . sure," she said, "If you want to leave. Go back to your room and write daddy a nice long letter telling him how proud you are of him!" The girls all laughed as she walked out and down the hall to her room, tears of anger and of doubt stinging her cheeks.

She started to write her father a letter, but the right words just wouldn't come out, she was too upset and she didn't want to say anything that would upset her father too, so she decided to take a nap. She was awakened by a knock on her door and the house mother telling her that it was time for dinner.

"Don't you feel well, my dear, you look pale," she said sympathetically.

"No ... no, I'm fine, Mrs. Foster, just a little tired I guess. I'll be all right, thanks," she said and went downstairs to the dining room. Several of the girls who had been in Sharon's room that afternoon were at her table, but they didn't say anything to her and ate their meal in silence.

The next few days were not easy for her, the girls kidded her at every opportunity and when she picked up her mail, they'd ask, "Any word from the stud?" It was all she could do to keep from clawing at them, tearing at their hair and hitting them until they took it back, but she knew she couldn't, there were too many of them.

Sharon began to come to her room, each time bringing some new piece of gossip or some new compromising picture of her father with her. Each day it got worse until she could think of nothing else but getting away, away from the girls, Sharon, away from the whole school! She had more than one semester to finish before she would graduate, but nothing mattered to her anymore except going to her father and not having to listen to the slander that the girls were teasing her with.

She decided to wait until the following Saturday when they were allowed to go into town to the movies. She would sign out for the movies, but go to the bus station and get the first bus home. No one would miss her until dinner time that night and by then she would be well on her way. Her allowance always came in the mail on Saturday so she would have plenty of money and she wouldn't have to worry about anything. She knew that she couldn't leave the school with a suitcase, so she just stuffed some clean panties and a bra into a large purse, put on her favorite skirt and sweater and signed out for the movies. Her hand was shaking as she put the time and her name on the register, but no one seemed to notice.

"I understand that the movie's good this week," Mrs. Foster said to her as she left. "You'll have to tell me all about it later, Jenny."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, and walked down the stairs and out into the sunshine. The air was cool, but not really cold enough for a coat, so she walked briskly in order to keep warm.

Each week several of the local high school boys stood on a corner about three blocks from the school waiting for the girls to go downtown. Jenny knew that some of the girls had been sneaking off with them and necking in the back rows of the movie theatre, but had said nothing. They had made passes at her several times, but lately they had just ignored her except for an occasional raw comment or two when she walked by.

Her skirt was several inches above her knee, showing a slender, but curved leg, and the material hugged her hips tightly so that you could see the firm fullness of her buttocks when she walked. The ripe, voluptuousness of her high, round, full breasts and the narrowness of her waist were accentuated by the close fit of the cashmere sweater. She knew that she had a good body, supple and firm, yet she was not aware of what it did to men when she walked by, swinging her hips, her breasts pointing proudly forward. Her long blond hair curled slightly around her cheeks, complimenting her porcelain skin and the blueness of her eyes. She was a beautiful girl, full of the spring of youth and innocence, with the body of a woman, full of passion.

She could feel the boys' eyes following her every step as she approached them, and could hear a few of them talking, making crude comments, so she began to walk faster.

"Wow . . . Td sure like to get some of that! Wonder if she's a swinger like the rest of her family!" They all laughed and she clenched her fists and teeth to keep from saying anything to them. Once when she had told them to let her alone, an acned, sloppy boy had reached out and pinched her bottom and another had grabbed a quick feel of her breasts. She had felt dirty for days from the thought of them daring to touch her, so she decided to say nothing.

"Let's get her . . . come on," another boy urged. "She's been ripe and waiting too long all ready!"

"Naw, let her alone," the other said. "Why take a chance with a screamer when here comes the real thing... guaranteed."

She didn't turn back to look, but she knew that they were referring to some of the other girls from the school who met them each week.

She relaxed when she heard them walk in the opposite direction to meet the girls and she quickened her pace. Just six more hours and I'll be home, she thought excitedly, I can't wait!

She wanted to get several blocks ahead of the rest of the girls so that they wouldn't see her turn the opposite way from the movie and walk toward the bus station. One of them just might decide to call the school and then she would be stopped and she couldn't bear that thought. She never wanted to go back to that school, to listen to the cruel taunting of the other girls. She wouldn't listen to anything they had to say about her father, she loved her father and that was all that mattered. She wanted to be at home with him . . . and stay at home.

She sat on the bench inside the bus station and waited for her bus to arrive. She had to wait a half an hour, so she bought a magazine and began to flip through it. She couldn't concentrate, however, because every time someone walked by or glanced at her, she was certain that it was someone from the school and she would be forced to go back. The half hour seemed to take days to pass, but finally they were announcing her bus and she got on and sat down with a sigh of relief while the driver loaded the luggage. The trip would take three hours, but then she could call her father and tell him to come down to the station and pick her up. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be, although she knew for certain that her mother would be angry and probably want to take her right back, but maybe she could convince her father that she would much rather go to the local high school.

She thought about what was in the articles she had read and debated whether or not to mention them to her father. She knew that he would be angry with her for even looking at magazines like that, so she decided to say nothing and see for herself what is going on. If they would just allow her to stay home she could watch when they had parties and find out for herself. She's sure that her father would not do anything like that, but the seed of curiosity had been planted and she couldn't get it out of her mind.

It was near dinner time when the bus pulled into the Hollywood suburb where she lived. She knew that her parents would be at the dinner table and the maid would answer the phone, but this would give her a few extra minutes to build up her courage before talking to her father.

She dialed the number and let it ring several times before someone answered, "Rhodes residence."

"Amy, it's me, Jennifer. Is daddy there?" Her voice was quivering, but it was too late to turn back now and she was sure her father wouldn't make her go back, at least not right away...

"Why yes, Jennifer, just a moment, I'll get him." the maid replied. It seemed like an eternity before she heard her father's voice.

"Hi, honey," he said cheerily, "what can I do for my little girl?"

"I'm at the bus station, daddy," she said, choking back the tears. "I've run away from school."

There was a minute's silence before he answered, "Why in the world did you do that. Is anything wrong?" His tone was quiet and concerned and she could tell that he was quite upset.

"Oh daddy," she cried, "it's a long story. Will you come get me and I'll tell you the whole story."

"Sure, sweetheart," he said, "I'll send the car for you right away. You wait right there."

In fifteen minutes the car arrived and Jennifer was on her way home. She had tried to think of a story to tell her parents for the past few weeks, but nothing sounded very convincing. She couldn't tell them the truth because they would be upset, give her a lecture about how she would have to learn to face these things and definitely send her right back, so she decided to tell them that she was having trouble with her classes and that she was sure she was going to fail. Her grades had never been very high, but she had never really applied herself so they may believe that. The car pulled up the long driveway to their spacious home and she got out and ran into the house. Her mother and father were waiting for her in the living room. "Daddy . . . mother," she cried, tears streaming down her face when she saw them. Her father went to her and held her for just a moment then said, "Now, now, honey, nothing could be that bad. Sit down and tell us what's the matter. You know that I'll have to call the school and tell them you're here. Mrs. Foster must be frantic by now wondering where you are."

She sat down on the sofa between her parents and told them how she was afraid that she was going to flunk out this term and how embarrassed she would be, so she had decided that it would be better to come home and finish the year in the local high school. She knew that she would be able to do the work there and then she wouldn't disgrace anyone by failing at boarding school. Her parents listened intently while she told them her story, not saying anything until she had finished.

"Well, Jennifer," her mother finally said, "I know it hasn't been easy for you, but believe me, boarding school is the best place for you. It isn't that your father and I wouldn't like to have you home with us, but you know that we are out so much of the time that it would be very difficult at the moment."

"In other words, I'd be in the way, is that it mother?" she said sharply, losing her composure for the moment. "That's not at all what your mother meant, young lady," her father said sternly. "You know that we have to be out a lot because of my filming schedule and we feel that it would be very lonely for you here. At school you have the girls your own age to talk with, and even if your grades aren't the highest, I'm sure you aren't on the verge of flunking every subject!"

Tears of frustration were streaming down her cheeks and she knew that she would have to think of some other excuse for not going back to the school, because her parents just weren't buying this one.

"Please don't make me go back, daddy," she begged, "I just don't want to go back."

"You're upset now, sweetheart," he said, "but I'm afraid you'll have to go back. Suppose I call the school and tell them you're not feeling well and that you'll be home with us for a week, but then you'll have to go back, okay?"

"But Carter," her mother implored, "do you think that's right. After all, she'll miss a whole week of classes and be behind. That will only make it harder for her."

"Well, a week will give us all time to think this thing out, and maybe Jenny can use a vacation. Sometimes our nerves need a vacation before the set holidays roll around and I think that this is one of those times." He spoke with authority and finality and she knew that she had won the first round.

She threw her arms around her father and kissed him.

"Oh, thank you, daddy. Thank you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, sugar," he said, "Now go clean up and I'll have Amy make you something to eat. Your mother and I have to go to a benefit at the Country Club tonight, so you'll have to fend for yourself until tomorrow morning. I'll call the school now and tell them that you're here and will be for another week." Her mother shook her head, but knew better than to argue with him.

"We'll talk again in the morning, Jenny," she said, "try to get some sleep."

She barely picked at her meal and then went to her room. She felt better knowing that she would at least have a week at home and maybe by then she could learn to face the taunting she would have to take if they sent her back to school. In a week she could learn whether or not the stories that had been printed about her parents were true or not. She was sure they were happily married, but she had to see it again once more just to reassure herself.

She crawled into her own bed and turned out the light but was hardly able to sleep from all the excitement. She heard her parents' car pull out of the driveway and finally she fell into a deep, contented sleep.