CHAPTER 28
~Danny~
WE LIE IN bed, only our hands bridging the gap between us. I stare up at the ceiling though I can’t see anything in the dark room. Not even her. The discretion allows me to think about everything that is happening, about everything that has happened.
I can hear her breathing and I want to smother her with my body and emotions, covering her until she only breathes me. She says, “You should sleep. You have the photo shoot in the morning.”
“You do too.”
I can’t see her smile in the dark, but I hear it in her tone when she says, “But I’m not on camera.”
“You could be.”
“Thank you,” she whispers and I can bet she doesn’t believe me. Her hand squeezes mine. “This has to be perfect. There is no room for okay. We need amazing to happen. Promise me you’ll give me amazing no matter what they ask of you.”
The undertone of the conversation is weighted with little information. I still don’t know what she’s up to, but I can overlook that because I know she’s choosing me. “I’ll give you amazing, Reese.” I yawn, and her body rolls toward mine. I put my arm under her and bring her closer. A yawn of her own follows and then my world disappears, exchanged for dreams and memories from the past that have been long-since buried.
* * *
CLAUDIA STANDS ON a large venting hood, her pale pink dress blowing behind her as she stares at me. My hands are firm on the short brick wall that surrounds the roof where we’re shooting. The black suit and shirt I’ve been styled in works for this gray day. I look off at the Empire State Building in the distance, then slowly turn back to Claudia.
The clicking of Bryker’s camera is heard above the noise twenty stories down on the streets of Manhattan. Walking to her, I keep my eyes on the woman in the dress who appears to be floating as the sheer skirt blows wide around her. I’m feeling it, so I hope the camera captures the élan vital of what we’re trying to evoke.
Claudia reaches forward for me and as I take her hands I try to stay focused on her and not on the woman off to the side who just showed up, three hours after me. Taking Claudia by the waist, I twirl her in the air and then bring her down until we’re face to face, our eyes locked.
Bryker directs, “Kiss her.”
Our eyes close as our lips come together. I’m careful of our angles, acutely aware of where the camera is as the photographer shifts around us. Holding Claudia in place, I’m careful to not mess her hair and give the camera the best angle of my jaw, keeping my promise to Reese—giving her photo-shoot perfection. Just as she requested.
Bryker’s telling us to make love to the camera, to make love to each other, use the eyes, kiss her lips, drop our shoulder, angle toward him, away from him, spin her around, move the dress, show the suit—do what feels natural.
I glance over and send a glare on that one. I know what he wants. He wants what every photographer wants—to capture the moment in its rawest form—to find love, lust, realness in the subjects. These subjects—Claudia and I—aren’t in love. Our job is to manufacture those emotions through silence and our bodies, our eyes, our passion, to play pretend and trick the viewer’s eye.
But passion for my job and “getting the shot” are no match for the real thing. I look at Reese, sneaking a peek as I turn us around. She’s not watching. She still struggles because I’m too good at my job, convinced what she sees before her is real.
This is where faith and trust come into play, something I’m being forced to embrace since she won’t let me know how she’s “handling” her ex.
Bryker calls out, “That’s a wrap for this location. Pack up.”
Claudia walks to wardrobe, and I detour to Reese. “Morning.”
“Morning. You left early. You must be tired.”
“I’ve had two espressos.”
She reaches forward, a comfort in the action, but stops and holds her hands in front of her. “We must be careful.”
“We’re heading to the apartment. Are you coming?”
“No. I have two meetings with other clients.”
I lean in to kiss her, but catch myself, understanding her struggle just seconds earlier. “You’re on the flight tonight?”
“Yes. Do you need anything?”
“Only you.”
A broad smile brightens my day. “You’ve got me, Danny. You had me all along.”
“I’ve wasted many years then.”
“We both did.” She puts more space between us. “The photos are going to look amazing. The chemistry is undeniable.”
“Don’t believe everything you see.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but for now, I need to go.”
Perfect timing, as if planned to not have to watch anymore. I get it. I don’t know how I’d feel about watching her and another guy. Yeah, I do. It’d fucking suck. “I’ll see you later.” I head over to Becs.
Quietly, Reese says, “Hey, Danny?”
Turning around, I say, “Hey, Reese.”
Her smile is genuine, the girl seen within the woman standing before me. She says, “Last night,” she glances to the right, and then back to me, “you were incredible.”
“I’m hoping for a repeat in Paris.”
That sends the blood rushing to her cheeks and she shies away, leaving before anybody else notices. But I notice and that’s all that matters. The beautiful blue-eyed girl is mine. Again.
I strip off the jacket, starting on the shirt as soon as I reach wardrobe. I get down to my boxers before I step behind the makeshift dressing room. Claudia is pulling a T-shirt over her head sans bra while I pull off the Vittori underwear and pull on my jeans. She yawns. “I’m so fucking tired today. I can’t sleep for shit in Manhattan. I never did like this city.”
“Is it the city or the partying that kept you up?”
With a trilling laugh, she taps her chin. “You might have a point there.”
That’s when I see it. “Wipe your nose.”
The residue is barely seen, but it’s there. She rubs her nose on her shirt. “All clear?”
“All clear. You didn’t have that while shooting did you?”
“No.” She reaches down and flashes open her purse. The vial looks empty for the most part. I’m glad she’s out.
“Do you need it to work?”
“I need it to survive.”
I pull on my shirt and grab my jacket from the top of the screen. “When did it get that bad?”
“The first time I tried it.”
“When was that?” I ask, though I should probably let it go.
“I was sixteen, and on a shoot in Italy. The photographer wanted to ‘help’ get me in the mood.”
Trying to keep things casual, I start to feel sick as I bend down and put on my socks and shoes. “What happened?” I ask because there is always more to a story that starts like that. I’ve heard it a hundred times—models get taken advantage of all the time. They’re young, desperate to hit it big. I imagine modeling is a lot like acting in that way, both professions full of people who want to be the next star, the next one “discovered.”
I stand in front of her, both of us fully dressed behind a screen in the middle of Manhattan on a cloudy day. She lowers her voice and says, “I took the drugs and gave him what he wanted.”
Our eyes meet, a desperate sadness in hers that never seems to dissipate. I’m hesitant to say more, but do it anyway. “The photos turned out?”
“We never took any pictures. At least none for the campaign I was shooting.”
My stomach rolls. “He raped you?”
“He would say I agreed.”
“What would you say?”
“I don’t say anything at all.”
There’s something so vulnerable about her, despite the hard and edgy that got her to the level she’s at. But beneath the surface is something youthful and naïve. This woman has a damaged side that will never heal. She’s stunted in an action that formed who she is now.
I hug her.
She hugs me back.
There’s nothing sexual, no ulterior motives, no judgment. Just two people who are trying to survive in the middle of the chaos that’s raised them.
Becs asks, “You guys ready? The crew is packed.”
I wait for Claudia to answer. “Yes.” She walks by me as if the conversation we just had never happened. She leaves the roof and hopefully a little of her pain behind.
When I come out, Becs folds the portable dressing screens. I take them from her, she grabs her rack, and we leave like the rest.
In the back of the Suburban, Becs says, “She’s very pretty.”
Turning my attention from the passing people outside the vehicle to the one next to me, I agree. “Claudia nailed it this morning.”
“I wasn’t talking about Claudia.”
Smiling, I reply, “I should have known.”
“Any update or are you going to keep me in suspense forever?”
I lower my voice so the driver and the makeup artist don’t hear me. “What would you like to know?”
“I’m a romantic at heart. Tell me everything.”
I chuckle. “I should probably leave out some of the sordid details. I could be arrested in at least two states if word got out.”
“Damn, those are the best details. Do not leave those out.”
I sound more serious than intended, but maybe that’s because my heart is speaking for me. “I’m in deep.”
A soft, but proud smile enters her expression. Leaning over, she wraps an arm around me. “Awwww, you’ll be okay. It’s just new right now. Once you get off set and spend quality time together I would wager that this is the one.”
“Why do you say that?”
“From watching the two of you.” She sits back on her side of the seat and reflects. “There’s something about the way you move when you’re together, as if your bodies can’t stand the distance. I see her when you’re not looking. I see you when she’s not watching you. You’re one in the same. I’m afraid when it comes to your stubbornness as well.”
“I’m not stubborn, Becs.”
“You’re set in your ways and that way isn’t working for you anymore. You need to be honest with yourself and Reese. The rest of us don’t matter.”
“I’ve been honest with her. She knows how I feel. She’s just caught up in the side effects of dating me.” I drop my head back. “I don’t want to lose her again, but I don’t know how to hold on to her either.”
“Love doesn’t need to be held. It’s in our veins, flowing through us like blood. It’s essential to our makeup. So don’t let your need to hold something tangible make you miss what’s inside.”
“Stop being so damn insightful,” I tease.
“Eh, it’s a gift.”
I lean over and kiss her on the head. “You’re a gift.”
When she looks at me, her eyes are wide. “That’s the same as calling me awesome, right?”
“Better than awesome. See? I’m not so stubborn.”
With a roll of her eyes, we’re back to being playful. The emotions Reese and I are feeling for each other will stay tucked away until we deal with it later. I have a good three hours work ahead of me and need to get in the right frame of mind. Then later, we have that seven-hour flight to Paris to get through. How I’m supposed to be near her for that long and not touch her, not kiss or make love to her? That is going to be the longest seven hours of my life.