Unbind (53 page)

So when I got in through the door, I found Cai in his studio looking at some thumbnails. We hugged and kissed before he asked, “You okay? You look tired.”

“I am tired. Think I’m gonna bathe with a glass of wine, then hit the hay.”

“I’ll finish up here then meet you there,” he smiled behind an eyeglass, “if you want the company?”

“I would kill for a neck massage, one of your most famous,” I begged, my bottom lip out.

“Coming right up, tigress.”

Submerged in the water with one eye open, I saw him chuckling when he later entered the room.

“That bad?”

“I seriously may fall asleep if you touch my neck.”

“I bet not many guys get an offer like that,” he said in a rush of hilarity, settling himself on the floor behind the tub. He placed a towel under my head and shoulders to raise me a little.

“Oh gawwwd, your hands, ooh, your hands,” I moaned, as he got to work.

“Glad I’m appreciated,” he sniggered, then cut himself off. “So… how was today, really?”

“Hard,” I admitted. “Not as bad as I thought, though. She stuck up for me in an editorial meeting.”

“She did what?” He was incredulous.

“Yeah, she sacked someone.”

“You’re kidding me. She really fired someone? For you?”

“Well, the girl was being dumb anyway.”

“Jeez, she’s never done that before. Not in front of other people anyway.”

“It surprised me, I have to admit. I must say she wasn’t her normal self this morning. She was noticeably pissed off and yeah… she got rid of Sasha in a heartbeat.”

“Something must be going on,” he started, pausing his massage of my neck, “she was still acting like Jennifer… but she was just a bit more pissy than normal?”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder…”

“She complains of headaches, doesn’t she?” I turned to look at him.

He was biting his nails. “Yeah.”

“It could be that she’s at war with herself… inside. Or it could be that she’s not happy to know we’re planning a future together… and her cool’s slipping again.”

“Could be.” He frowned and scratched the back of his neck.

“What?”

“I think she’s losing it. I think you telling her we might stay together has tipped her over… taken her someplace worse than she was before maybe. Jennifer has never, ever lost it in that way before. Everybody knows she’s pretty uncompromising but she would have Carl fire the douche in a room 50 blocks away rather than let other people have observation of her true personality.”

“Bizarre,” I agreed, suddenly seeing his point of view. “Anyway, you know… something clicked in my mind whilst we were in that meeting and I want to put my thoughts past you.”

“Yeah…?” He seemed fascinated to know.

“I want to write my story.”

“Okay…” Now he was worried.

“Anonymously… artistically. Using some of your techniques. So I won’t be recognisable…?”

It clicked for him, too. “Aah, yeah, I see.”

“You could make it visually powerful, some pictographic story to accompany the words.”

“I’m following.” His eyes darted, his mind worked fast.

“She’s there, Cai. Now you’ve told me… I can see
her
. She’s easy to spot when you know how. I know Claudia’s there. We can try to bring her back, can’t we? We can always try.”

“What do you mean?” He kissed my shoulder and rested his cheek there.

“The power of words and stories… and your pictures, of course.”

“I’m frightened, Chloe. Of what might happen if she does come back.”

“I know. I would be terrified if it were me. I hardly know how you’re holding it together.”

“I’ve never known anything different.”

I reached my hand back and stroked my fingers through his hair. “Jennifer will never bless what we have, but Claudia might.”

He sighed. “I don’t know which is which, you know. She’s been living with this so long, who knows which is the real Claudia? Or Jennifer for that matter.”

My brain starting to hurt, I turned my head slightly and moved into his kiss.

THE NEXT DAY I called Carl and said I was working from home. He seemed excited, asking whether I was working on ‘the project’… and when I said yes he almost peed himself.

While Cai spent the morning shopping and then setting up a space in the studio for us to do a shoot, I jotted down some ideas for the article and knew what I wanted to write. I just needed to see what he had in mind before I could put everything down.

When he called to let me know he was ready, I felt a touch of uncertainty even though essentially, we were in our home and he had seen everything before.

He hadn’t told me much about the theme or sequence of this shoot. He didn’t want me to have any expectations. For this to work, I had to be relaxed. It was imperative and central to what he was trying to achieve with our shots.

I walked through the studio door and spotted a pale grey, buttoned chaise longue he seemed to have acquired from somewhere.

Oh my goodness, and then I saw the sheet. My alleged outfit.

“Cheap, much?” I blurted.

“It’s not just any old sheet.”

He chuckled while I muttered obscenities. I heard him unwinding his tripod and getting all the other equipment ready, like I was still going ahead with this. Was I honestly meant to don that? Did he really think that about me?

“Trust me, Chloe. Trust, remember? I know what I’m doing.”

“You dirty little voyeur, you.”

He laughed loudly. “If I am the voyeur, what does that make you?”

“Your bitch, it seems. If you expect me to wear a fucking sheet.”

He warned me, “Do my shots really need a red ass in them? Or are you gonna behave?”

“Perv,” I spat out. “You don’t get a piece of this when you’re making me wear a sheet.”

“Take your time tigress, I’m busy doing adult things this side.”

“Pah,” I exclaimed, “says my toy boy.”

I used one of the dividers of his gallery section to hide myself behind as I undressed, feeling awkward. Then I wrapped myself gingerly in the sheet.

He glanced my way while arranging his stuff. “Nice. In the black and white exposure, the ivory won’t seem too harsh or white against your flesh and the background.”

“So, this is what it’s like working as your bitch? You compliment the sheet more than me.”

He growled and choked on laughter. “I’m dying over here… so for god’s sake stop flashing your eyes like that otherwise we’ll never get this done.”

I couldn’t stop flirting, not when he was around. His shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, my focus was on his big hands and muscled forearms.

“Oop, okay.” He flicked his long lashes over my body, his gaze lustful. He was still fiddling with the overhead lights and the camera when I demanded, “Where do you want me?”

“Gimme a sec. Just while I finish up. You’ll need me to help you down for what I have in mind.”

“Huh. Are you going to tell me what is going on here?” I asked impatiently, ever more nervous.

“Trust me… you’ll be amazed.” He was serious then, and I became serious in return. This was important to him.

I softened, “Okay, Cai.”

“This soft focus lens is your best friend, say hello to your new best friend, Chloe,” he asked, holding it up in the air, “I wanna see you making love with this baby.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls,” I pouted, making eyes with the lens. Ha! I could hardly keep a straight face while he screwed the thing on.

He cut the harsh, unnatural gallery lights and switched on the equipment he seemed to carry with him to shoots—two portable overhead beams, which would be shining right on me.
Shit.
He fiddled with the dimmers until the lighting was softer and got out his meter again, seeming happier with what he had achieved doing that.

“This room may seem clinical… one thing my mother taught me was that the eye can be easily tricked… and see only what you tell it to.”

“You wanna ditch this sheet and bone me?” I beckoned, so hot for him and his artistic aura, his domineering presence in this setting.

“You’re only wearing it so I don’t jump your bones and rumple you before we get started… so, right now I need you to drop it, leave it pooled at the floor… and lay on the chaise, your back to me.”

I tensed slightly but he assured me, “It’s just me, remember? This is you and me. Get comfortable.”

The chaise had already been positioned so I had to lie on my left-hand side.

“Great, just great. You’re perfect. Straighten your knees just a little so you’re stretched out. It already looks great through the viewer and we haven’t even dressed you yet.”

“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, you voyeur.”

“Keep calling me that and we’ll see how much gets done here, honey.”

I knew we’d never get a thing done if I didn’t behave myself better. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good.”

“Okay,” he breathed deeply, righting himself. “I’m gonna arrange you, then drape the sheet over you. I need you to be well-behaved now, Chlo.”

“Me? Modicum of professional, I am.” I fought the urge to laugh. We had to get serious.

He walked to me and asked, “Lift your head slightly.”

On a shoot like this, there would normally be dressers, hair and make-up stylists, all that.

He began playing with my hair, seeing what he could do with it. Not much given it was wild and I hadn’t straightened it over the holidays.

“Your things, Chlo?”

“I put them on your desk, sweetheart.”

He came back with a hairbrush.

“You could Photoshop me, couldn’t you?” I said, feeling worried.

“I could. However, trained eyes would know it had been edited. I want this to be real… that’s if we even make this public. For now, this is just you and me, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I responded, still in the zone.
Just you and me.
I looked briefly over my shoulder to see his reassuring smile. He dropped a gentle kiss on my shoulder before smoothing the brush through my locks.

“Say something foul. I need not to be this aroused right now.”

Yes, well, he hadn’t yet
arranged
the sheet on me.

I giggled quietly. “Klaus Häuser.”

“Thanks, god that guy fucks me off.”

“You’ll never get on, then?”

“Not as far as I can see although I’m short sighted. Right now all I’m seeing is you.”

“Time changes people, you know.”

“Perhaps.”

He arranged my hair so it draped over the curl of the chaise longue at the top. “I’ve had to improvise on a lot of sets. Some stylists turn up drunk or high, sometimes… it can get tricky.”

“You’ve had to do the odd bit of hair and make-up? Weird.”

“More than once! This job isn’t glamorous, most of the time.”

“This will be though, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Listen… when I thought about this arrangement, I decided to give this a filmic quality so I’m gonna video shoot this like a movie. I’ll let you know how to perform when we’ve got you comfy here.”

Little by little, he let me know what was expected of me.

“Perform. Wow.”

“You look fucking beautiful right now. I’m lucky to be breathing the same air as you. People are gonna love this… and you. They will love you.”

“Even though they won’t know it is me?”

“Even more so. Now, the sheet.” He tried not to sound orderly but I knew he couldn’t help it. He picked it up from the floor and shook it out.

That was when he began to tell me the story…

“Chloe, you’re a leading lady from the Fifties…” I loved that era, and he knew it, “…you’re waking from a quick nap. You don’t do real beds. They’re for pussies. You sleep exaggeratedly, never normal. You’re aware of your image and how you appear. You don’t even use the toilet. You’re too important for that. You have servants to minister to you.”

We sniggered.

“We’re in character. Remember? Right, you’re the star. There’s nothing about this shoot remotely tragic or sad or winsome. You’re just too wonderful, too amazing for mere mortals to understand you. Understand?”

“Yes. I’ll need some diamonds, now,” I said in a sultry voice.

“You will. It’s good I came prepared.”

Frame
often borrowed pieces from jewellers. It was a good selling point for all, as long as we mentioned the generous donation in the captions of course. I could already see it now: ‘
Anonymous model wearing only diamonds, from
…’

“First, may I drape this silk sheet on you?”

“Is it real silk?”