Free First Kiss by Kylie Adams

change of scenery might help. She snatched the key and ventured out to roam the halls, hoping to encounter a famous married person going in or out of a room.
    But her floor was as quiet as a monastery. Well, except for the whip snaps and moans coming from the room she just passed. Probably a politician. Most
    of them secretly longed to be punished sexually. Must be some sort of perverse contrition for all the tricks they slipped past the voting public. Hmm. A provocative observation. Perhaps she should write another mini-polemic, this one about politics in general. "Kiki Goes to Washington." A great chapter title! And her savvy take on issues of the day would probably surprise a lot of people.
    On the way back to her room, Kiki encountered another hotel guest waiting for the elevator. The woman appeared older, possibly late forties, her head and face swathed in a flowing Hermes scarf, her eyes eclipsed by large Christian Dior sunglasses. But no matter the disguise, Kiki knew swelling from plastic surgery when she saw it.
    Desperate to know what work she had done and, more importantly, who performed it and how much it cost, Kiki approached. "Hi, I'm Jennifer Aniston. We must be neighbors. I'm staying in the Mistress Hideaway just down the hall."
    The woman responded with a curt nod as she pressed the button again to call the elevator.
    "Don't worry," Kiki went on. "I'm nobody's mistress. Never have been. Hey, I couldn't stand my own husband, so chances are it's not going to work out with some other woman's." She laughed a little. "That reminds me of a friend of mine. She's a mistress. Loves it. Gets him about one week a month, and that's quite enough for her. Of course, holidays are always a problem. I imagine that's a really lonely time for mistresses. Don't you think? Someone should do something special for them during that time of year. I don't know. Maybe a Christmas brunch. That would be nice."
    "Yes," the woman answered crisply, avoiding eye contact. "I suppose it would be."
    "So what brings you to Affair?" Kiki pressed gingerly, taking her voice down to a hushed whisper. "I'm just here to get away from it all. Pretty boring, huh? I mean, I wish I could say that I had Jude Law stashed away in my room. But it's just me. Needed a little rest and relaxation. What about you?"
    "I really don't feel like speaking to anyone right now," the woman said. If looks could kill, then the hotel staff would be planning a funeral service for the elevator. The Extreme Makeover victim was staring daggers through it.
    "Maybe later then," Kiki said cheerily. "We could have a cup of tea together. By the way, I didn't catch your name."
    "I can't believe you don't recognize me, Jennifer Aniston ," the woman said savagely. "I'm Courteney Cox."
    Kiki giggled nervously. "I'm sorry. That's just my hotel alias. My real name is"
    The woman snorted. "I know who you are." She jabbed the elevator button again. "Is this goddamn thing broken?"
    "I think it's just slow," Kiki said easily. "This used to be an old warehouse." One beat. "You know, I'rr always surprised by the number of viewers who remember Jeannette. She never got much screen time but people really connected with her."
    "Who the hell is Jeannette?"
    "My character from All My Children ," Kiki said. "] assume that's where you recognize me from. Oi course, I was also first runner-up in the 1995 Miss America Pageant."
    "All I know is what I read in today's New York Post . You should be ashamed of yourself."
    "It's all lies!" Kiki paused a moment. "Well, mosi of it anyway. But the parts about me and Tom Brock? Total fabrication. They should've had Jackie Collins's name on the byline."
    "Women like you make me sick."
    Kiki was taken aback by the venomous look spewing from the stranger's practically swollen-shut eyes The rebuke stunned her. "Women like me ? I don'l understand."
    All of a sudden, the elevator doors creaked opened
    "Women like you never do." She stepped inside, jammed a finger onto the