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****
She'd spent enough time around wealthy businessmen, athletes, producers, and ambitious young men to recognize the usual patterns. Most either tried too hard to impress women or became dismissive the moment they weren't interested.
Marvin did neither. Every "no" came with warmth instead of embarrassment. Nobody walked away feeling rejected. Somehow, he made people feel seen even while holding his ground.
Kim quietly tucked that observation away in the mental cabinet where she stored everything useful about human behavior, everything that might be leveraged later. It was the sort of social instinct she admired—and remembered.
Kourtney, who had remained quieter than the rest throughout the evening, finally spoke.
"So..." she asked, swirling the ice in her soda. "Paris said you're writing something for her."
She glanced between the two of them. "A movie?"
Marvin nodded. "That's the idea."
"You just... write movies for people?"
"When someone inspires one," he answered.
His fingers absentmindedly brushed over Paris's hand where it rested on his knee.
"Paris has inspired quite a few ideas."
Paris's smile immediately softened.
"Stop..." she whispered, although she clearly wanted him to continue.
Marvin looked at her for a moment before smiling. "She has a very clear sense of style."
Paris laughed as she blushed at the word, understanding the private reference, the reminder of her new modest wardrobe, her obedience to his preferences. She squeezed his hand, her eyes shining.
"And she's surprisingly disciplined when she decides something matters."
The comment sounded innocent enough. Only Paris caught the private meaning behind it.
A warm blush spread across her cheeks. She ducked her head, smiling to herself as she squeezed his hand beneath the table.
Nicole noticed immediately. "Oh my God."
She pointed between them. "That was totally an inside joke."
Paris looked up innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Liar."
"I would never."
"You absolutely would."
The table laughed.
Bijou took another drag from her cigarette before speaking again. "So what actually gets you writing?"
Her tone had lost almost all of its earlier edge.
"You've got money. Fame. Girls."
She shrugged. "What keeps the engine running?"
Marvin thought for a second. "Almost everything."
Bijou raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"
He leaned back. "A sentence that lands exactly the way I imagined. The color of a city just before sunset. The courage it takes to be kind in a city that rewards cruelty. A conversation that changes someone."
He paused. "And watching people become more themselves."
The table grew quieter.
"Watching someone slowly grow into the person they're supposed to be..."
His eyes drifted naturally toward Paris. "...that's probably my favorite inspiration. Better than any drug. Better than any drink."
Paris forgot everyone else was in the room.
She just looked at him.
"It's better than applause. Better than awards. And definitely better than anything that comes in a bottle."
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Nicky finally broke the silence. "...Wow."
She smiled, almost shaking her head.
"People our age don't usually talk like that."
Nicole laughed. "People any age don't usually talk like that."
"That's... really deep," Kourtney said, her voice hushed, her eyes wide. "Like, actually deep."
Paris leaned into Marvin again, unable to hide the satisfaction written across her face. "I told you."
She rested her head lightly against his shoulder. "He's amazing."
She looked around the room with an unmistakably triumphant grin. "And yes..."
She intertwined her fingers with his again. "...he's mine. Like, totally mine."
She made no effort to lower her voice.
The words were meant to be heard.
It was a quiet declaration, delivered in full view of everyone watching, as if she wanted to leave no room for doubt about where she stood.
Around them, the other women exchanged quick glances. Some couldn't hide their envy. Others looked amused. A few simply watched in silence, already sensing the subtle shift in the room.
Whatever game had been unfolding moments earlier had just changed.
Paris had something everyone else suddenly wanted to understand, and she wasn't shy about letting it show. Standing beside Marvin.
There was no hesitation.
No embarrassment.
Just quiet confidence.
The girls exchanged amused glances.
Nicole rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh, she's going to be insufferable about this for months."
"Years," Kourtney corrected.
Kim laughed softly. "I was thinking forever."
Paris only smiled wider. "Sounds about right."
….
…
..
.
Around 8:45, a waitress came by carrying a tray of cigarettes, offering Marvin a sleek black pack of imported Gauloises.
Marvin smiled politely and shook his head. "No, thank you."
"You don't smoke?" the waitress asked.
"I don't," Marvin replied. "But don't mind me. Tonight's about everyone having a good time."
Nicole Richie, already holding a cigarette between two fingers, smirked over at him. "So you're not gonna give us the whole 'smoking kills' speech?"
Marvin chuckled. "No." He shrugged. "You're all capable of making your own decisions. I just don't enjoy smoking."
He glanced down at his shirt with a grin. "And I like my clothes smelling like clean laundry."
A few girls laughed.
Then Marvin's eyes drifted toward Paris.
She had already pulled out her familiar cigarette case—gold, monogrammed, a gift from her grandmother—paused.
Their eyes met.
He didn't say a word.
He simply raised an eyebrow.
Paris looked down at the cigarette between her fingers.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Then, without lighting it, she slipped it back into the case.
Click.
She put that on it into her purse. "I'm done with smoking," she said matter-of-factly.
Nicole blinked.
Nicole blinked. "...What?"
Paris shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I mean... it's kind of gross."
She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.
"It makes your clothes smell. Your hair smells. And everybody says it's terrible for your skin."
She smiled proudly. "I like having nice skin."
Nicole stared at her. "Paris..."
She pointed dramatically. "You've been stealing my cigarettes since we were, like, fifteen."
"Well..." Paris smiled sweetly. "I'm over it."
Casey laughed into her drink. "No, you're not over it." She pointed at Marvin. "You're under him."
The table erupted into laughter.
Paris's cheeks turned bright pink. "Oh my God, Casey!"
"What?" Casey grinned. "I'm just saying."
Kimberly shook her head, smiling into her wine. "That's actually impressive."
She looked at Marvin. "You didn't even ask."
"I didn't have to," Nicole said, still sounding amazed.
She looked back at Paris. "I've known you forever." "I couldn't get you to quit."
"Nicky couldn't get you to quit."
"Your mom couldn't get you to quit."
She gestured toward Marvin. "He walks in, raises one eyebrow..."
Nicole snapped her fingers. "...and suddenly cigarettes are out of fashion."
Even Nicky laughed. "I have to admit..."
She looked at her sister with genuine disbelief. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Paris hugged Marvin's arm a little tighter, completely unapologetic. "What can I say?"
She smiled up at him. "I like making him happy."
Kimberly let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. "That's... honestly a little terrifying."
Nicole nodded in agreement. "No."
She looked at Marvin with mock suspicion.
"Forget Hollywood."
"I want to know what kind of Jedi mind trick you're using."
Paris Hilton, giving up cigarettes? For a boy? For *anyone*?
"Wow," Kim muttered, with great surprise. "He really is magic. That's, like, witchcraft or something."
….
…
..
.
By 9:00, the conversation had drifted to music—Marvin's album, the Grammy nominations, whether he'd perform at the ceremony, and what he thought of Britney Spears versus Christina Aguilera.
"They're both talented," Marvin said with an easy smile. "But honestly, one's better than the other...."
He was halfway through explaining why he still preferred analog recording over digital when he stopped mid-sentence.
Without a word, he turned to Paris.
His hand found hers beneath the table, their fingers slipping together as naturally as breathing. He simply held her gaze, then gave the slightest tilt of his head toward the door.
Paris smiled instantly.
She understood.
"Oh!" she chirped, already hopping to her feet and smoothing down her dress. "Okay, you guys... I think that's our cue." Her movements are graceful but hurried, eager to leave with him, to be alone with him.
She looked around the room with an apologetic grin. "You all know Marvin's, like... ridiculously busy." She laughed softly. "So we can't stay all night. But seriously, don't let us stop the party. Keep hanging out. Drink whatever you want. It's all on me." She pointed toward the bar. "The bartender has my card. And don't order the cheap champagne. That's literally depressing."
She reached into her handbag for a soft cashmere shawl. Before she could unfold it, Marvin gently took it from her hands, opened it, and held it behind her shoulders.
Paris slipped her arms through with a content little smile, glancing back at him. "Thanks."
Nicky sighs audibly as she watches the small gesture with an unconscious sigh.
Kim noticed it too, silently filing it away. He hadn't made a performance out of being considerate. He'd simply done it without thinking. Another observation about how true men should behave.
Marvin looked around the room one last time.
"Goodbye, ladies," Marvin said, his voice warm, inclusive, final, carrying that note of closure that made it clear this was not negotiable. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you ladies," he said warmly. "Thank you for the conversation. Take care of each other. Thanks for making Paris smile and being an awesome friend and being her partner-in-crime!"
Everyone caught Marvin's meaning at once.
A chorus of amused giggles rippled through the group, followed by a few knowing smiles. No one needed him to explain the joke.
His eyes shifted to the blonde beside him. "And Paris..." He smiled. "...thanks for showing me off."
Paris laughed, unable to hide how happy she was.
"Anytime, baby." She squeezed his hand, her eyes shining. "Like... literally anytime."
As they walked away together, Paris glanced back over her shoulder. A mischievous grin spread across her face before she gave the others a playful wink. The expression alone spoke volumes, carrying just enough smug satisfaction to make the girls jealous, groan, or roll their eyes. She didn't need to say a single word.
Her smile said everything she wanted them to think.
Then, with a final wave, they stepped out together.
The steel door eased shut behind them with a muted click, leaving the jealous girls and their cigarettes and their champagne, and buzzing conversations inside the warehouse.
For several long seconds, nobody at the table said a word.
Outside, Gordon was already waiting beside the town car, one gloved hand holding the rear door open. Cool air spilled from the cabin, a welcome contrast to the thick July humidity that clung to the streets.
Paris slipped into the back seat first, still holding Marvin's hand as though she had no intention of letting go. The moment he climbed in beside her, she naturally leaned against his shoulder, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.
Once the door closed and the city noise faded, her confidence softened into something much quieter.
"So..." she asked, glancing up at him with an almost shy smile. "How'd I do?"
Marvin looked down at her. "With what?"
She laughed nervously. "The whole... introduction."
She made a vague gesture with her free hand. "Did they totally freak out like I thought they would?"
A small pause. "...Were they jealous?"
Marvin couldn't help smiling. "You really want an honest answer?"
She nodded immediately. "Always."
"You did great." He squeezed her hand gently. "You were confident without being rude."
"They love you. They're jealous. And yes..." He chuckled. "...I'd say they were more than a little surprised."
Paris grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "I knew it."
"They're going to be talking about tonight for a while."
She rested her chin against his shoulder.
"They weren't jealous of me."
Her smile turned knowingly mischievous. "They were looking at you."
Marvin laughed quietly. "I noticed."
"They were all staring at you," Paris said, still sounding impressed. "Honestly, I think they were completely fascinated."
"Well," Marvin replied with a grin, "I am that awesome."
Paris laughed, giving him a playful nudge. "Keep telling yourself that. Though... I can't say they're proving you wrong."
He shook his head, unable to suppress a smile.
"Maybe." She looked up at him again. "You don't mind?"
"Mind what?"
"Being my guest tonight."
Marvin met her eyes. "Not for a second."
The answer came so naturally that Paris's shoulders relaxed.
She smiled to herself before curling a little closer. "I've wanted to introduce you to them forever."
"I could tell."
"They're never gonna let me hear the end of it. I imagine not." She laughed.
Nicole's voice echoed perfectly in her head.
"*Paris is going to be unbearable after tonight.*"
Paris smiled wider. "They're absolutely right."
Marvin raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I'm never letting them forget this."
He laughed, shaking his head. "I had a feeling."
****
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