“Well, since there’s no drink and no fun to be had, I suppose you’re right,” she said.
And Kate caught a glimpse of the Nat she’d known before in the words. As soon as she’d spoken though, Nat smiled.
“Actually though, it’s not been that bad. Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome.” They were hardly glowing words of praise, but Kate accepted them.
“Goodnight then.”
Nat stood and hesitated, then she placed her hand on Kate’s shoulder. It was the briefest of touches but it sent a shock of warmth down Kate’s arm. The kind of warmth that she’d been able to ignore all afternoon, the kind of feeling that she’d deliberately been not thinking about. And then it was over.
Nat disappeared off to the only bedroom and Kate spent a few minutes cleaning up the kitchen before finding herself a blanket in the chest by the door and throwing it over the couch.
With the lights off the living room was dark as dark, far darker than anything in the city. Kate lay with her eyes wide open, drinking in the blackness. She was still confused. Sometimes it seemed like Nat had changed, like she was no longer the spoiled little bully she used to be. At others, it didn’t. But her life did seem so sad. And Nat obviously did have problems, the biggest of which, in Kate’s opinion, was the kind of people she chose to surround herself with.
She could feel her grandfather’s presence in the cabin, could almost smell his spiced scent. “Judge not, lest ye yourself be judged,” he’d always said. Maybe she needed to hold back on judging Nat too harshly. She was trying. Trying hard. Maybe Nat truly had changed. And she was, after all, exceptionally good at her job. The portfolio pictures were sure to turn out stunning. As long, that is, as Nat chose to behave herself...
Chapter Six
The smell of cooking woke her up. For a moment she was six years old again, lying wrapped in her blanket, waiting for her grandfather to come and serve her eggs in bed. Then the whistling started and she remembered exactly what was happening.
“Hey there, sleepyhead.”
She sat up, frowning in confusion, to see Nat standing over the small stove scratching at a pan with a spatula.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like, dummy? Eggs for breakfast, right?”
Nat was still whistling tunelessly and Kate glanced out of the window. The light was still grey, the sun hadn’t risen yet.
“What are you doing up?”
She’d assumed that she’d have to physically pull the woman out of bed when she was ready to get started. She’d been making a lot of assumptions recently.
“Making breakfast, I thought we’d covered that?” asked Nat, moving the pan over to two plates. “You’re not really a morning person, are you?”
“I thought you wouldn’t be,” Kate said, standing up and stretching before padding over to the table.
“Well, to be honest, I’m generally not,” said Nat, putting a plate in front of her. “But I feel fantastic this morning. Do you know, you really might have been right.”
“About what?”
She picked up her fork and dug into fluffy scrambled eggs.
“The detox thing,” Nat said. “I’m not hungover, I feel clear-headed, and just generally pretty good. I probably did need a break.”
“Just a break?”
Nat sighed and put her fork down.
“I’m not an addict, you know.”
“Isn’t that exactly what an addict would say?”
“Maybe,” Nat said, picking up her fork again. “I don’t feel like I need it. The drugs or the drink. It’s just easier to say yes than to say no, that’s all. If I’m at home and there’s nothing in the house then I don’t go out searching for it.”
“So just at parties then? Which, by the way, you seem to go to all the time.”
“It’s the lifestyle. It’s not my fault. This is what people expect me to do.”
“You can defy expectations.”
“Look, I’m feeling good, I’m in a good mood, are you really going to spoil that?” Nat asked, digging at her eggs. “I made you breakfast.”
She said that like it wasn’t something she often did, and somehow Kate thought that it wasn’t.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
It didn’t mean that she believed her. She was still suspicious. If Nat truly didn’t need the drugs or the drink, then why had she brought both with her to the cabin? This was hardly a party.
“I know what you think of me.”
The phrase had come out of nowhere and for some reason made Kate’s heart beat harder.
“No, you don’t.” Her response came back more defensive than she’d intended.
“Sure, I do,” Nat said casually. “I’m a model. I’m spoiled, demanding, flighty, irritable. You know, model-like.”
“And aren’t you?”
Nat smiled and her face lit up like the dawn. “Sometimes. But I’m other things too.”
“Like what?”
“Optimistic, for example. I don’t see the point in dwelling on things that are already done. Like this here. Most models would be sitting around sulking and pulling faces because they’re in the middle of nowhere doing a portfolio shoot. But not me. I’ll admit that I didn’t want to do it, but it’s arranged now, so why not make the best of it? Besides, it’s kind of nice here. Quiet. Calm.”
“Okay, so you’re optimistic.”
“Generous, I like helping people. Um, I’m not shy, I can stand up for myself, and for other people if I need to.”
“You’re modest too,” Kate said.
Nat stuck out her tongue a little and Kate found herself smiling.
“You know what I mean,” Nat said. “I get it. You’re a photographer, you hang out with plenty of models. So do I. I know what the stereotype is. And it drives me crazy. We’re people too, you know, we’re all different. We’re not all snobby junkies who won’t wear the same pair of underwear more than once.”
“Do you?”
“What?”
“Wear the same underwear twice in a row?”
“No! They get washed first!”
Kate laughed again and put her knife and fork on her empty plate.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Photographers tend to be jaded about models. Fine. But on the same note, I’m a person as well. I’m not just a shadow behind a camera. Someone to be ignored, like most models seem to think.”
“Understood,” Nat said, rising and picking up both plates. “But if we don’t get to work then you won’t be anything behind a camera because you won’t have a portfolio and then you won’t have a job.”
Kate rolled her eyes but stood up anyway to take over the washing up.
✽✽✽
She didn’t want to like her. That was the problem. Since Mel had told her about the initial shoot she’d made up her mind that Nat was necessarily a bad person. History told her that Nat was a bad person. A bully. A bitch. She’d taken the job because she’d needed it, still needed it, but only after satisfying herself that she wouldn’t be recognized, that the old demons wouldn’t be stirred up. But that logic was now working against her.
She’d changed enough in the last couple of decades that Nat hadn’t recognized her in the slightest. And yet she’d expected Nat to still be the same person she’d always been. But she wasn’t. Perhaps it was time to put those demons to bed once and for all. What had happened when they were kids was firmly in the past. As destructive as it had felt, as it had been, it was over. And the woman that Nat had become couldn’t be blamed for the crimes she’d committed as a child.
Reasonably, this all made sense. Reasonably, she could understand this. But at the same time she found that though she was starting to like Nat, she also hated herself for it. She wanted to punish her, wanted her to pay for what she had done. She had a juvenile desire for revenge that she was trying desperately to squash down.
There was something else too. Something deeper, more personal, something
unspeakable that she refused even to think about, even to consider. Something that was impossible and thrilling at the same time. Something that made her pulse run faster, made her warmer. Something she was going to squash even further down than that stupid need for revenge.
“Almost ready?” she shouted, coming back into the cabin.
The light was turning, real dawn was coming, and she wanted to be out to get that beautiful fresh yellow glow captured.
There was no answer. Perhaps Nat was already rummaging through the clothes rack in the back of the van. One of Kate’s favorite stylists had hooked her up with exactly the kind of looks that she wanted, and she couldn’t wait to see the clothes on Nat.
She was about to leave, to head to the van, when she reconsidered. Best to use the bathroom now so as not to interrupt the shoot later. She was barely paying attention as she pushed into the small room and it took an age for her to process what was actually happening.
Nat stood in the pale light from the single window. Her hair swooped down the curve of her back. Pink tipped breasts stood high and firm, larger than Kate would have expected. The soft arcs of her arms, her hips, the subtle glow of her skin, were all entrancing. In the moment that she saw her, she lost her breath, lost the ability to think, to vocalize, to do anything other than let the ignored feelings bubble up inside her. It was a heady mixture of lust, wanting, her mouth watering with desire for the figure that stood in front of her, and disgust at herself for feeling that way.
“Ka–”
The first syllable broke the spell.
“Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.” She was turning and stumbling and trying to close the door behind her all at once. “Sorry, sorry. Jesus.”
Her legs carried her all the way to the couch before she collapsed, shaking and breathing in gasps. She put her head in her hands. Jesus Christ.
It wasn’t the sight of a naked woman, God knows she’d seen plenty of those. Even some as beautiful as Nat. She was a photographer, the female form couldn’t make her uncomfortable. It wasn’t that at all, and she knew it. It was the feelings that had welled up, that desire, so strong she could still taste it.
Could it be? Really be? Was she actually... interested in Nat? Interested was the strongest word that she could bring herself to use. Even in her head she couldn’t go any further than that. This was... wrong. So wrong. Nat was her past. Nat was everything she hated about her past. Nat had tormented her and teased her and belittled her for years until she could barely get out of bed in the morning. Until her life was a living hell that she just wished would be over.
“You show those girls what for,” her grandfather had told her.
And she’d known that he was trying to help, that this was the best advice he could give her. But she hadn’t known, not then, not now, how to explain that she couldn’t stand up to them. That the first thing that their teasing had done was to strip away her self confidence so that she didn’t have the strength to stand up to them. That even if, by some miracle, she had called them out, she had defended herself, then it would only have made things worse the next time.
Then this. She rubbed her eyes with her hands making sparkles beneath her eyelids. The physical response was undeniable. It wasn’t the first time. She’d had the same response seeing her for the first time at the shoot, the same response to the touch of her hand. But she’d been guarded enough then that she could ignore it. This time though, so unexpected, she’d been open and willing and the feelings had smacked her so hard between the eyes that it was almost a physical slap.
Everything else aside, there was no way this could be reciprocated. Nat had a boyfriend. A rich, famous, attractive boyfriend. Who, a little voice in the back of her head said, she doesn’t seem to be very attracted to at all. Even so, there was no way in hell that Nat would ever have feelings for her, would ever feel that mouth-watering, stomach-clenching force of wanting and needing. And that made it even worse somehow. Because as much as Kate didn’t want to want Nat, she really didn’t want not to be wanted.
A physical response. That’s all it was. And not one she needed to speak aloud, or one she even needed to bow to. She could control herself. She’d have to control herself. Christ, the bullying had been bad enough when it was just about a Walmart shirt. What would it be like if her desire for Nat ever became public knowledge?
Something made her raise her head. A shifting in the air perhaps. And Nat was standing there. She was dressed now, a sleeveless shift in pale orange that looked nearly gold against her skin. But that didn’t stop Kate seeing what was under it, imagining those curves, seeing the grey shadows of ribs, the hollows by her hips.
“Kate, are you alright?”
Pull yourself together. You can do this.
“Yeah, yeah, course. I’m so sorry though. I had no idea that you were in there.”
Nat grinned.
“You know how many people have seen me naked?” she asked. “Way too many. So don’t feel bad about it. I’m not embarrassed, why should you be?”
“I don’t know. I just...” she trailed off.
“It made you uncomfortable, I get it,” Nat said. “But it was completely my fault. There’s a lock on the door and I should have used it. Honestly, though, I’m not bothered. If you’d have stuck around for more than a millisecond you’d have heard me laughing about it.”
“Yeah, sorry. Shock. You know?”
And now she couldn’t even form full sentences.
“You did look kind of like a teenage boy caught peeping,” Nat said, grinning.
Kate closed her eyes, only for a second, only to try and get the image of naked Nat out of her mind, but it was long enough that Nat noticed.
“And you feel really bad about this, don’t you?”
She could only nod. She felt horrific about it, and in ways that she could never tell Nat. Horrific and, a squirming in her stomach told her, still slightly turned on.
“Like I said. It was completely my fault,” said Nat. “And I swear, next time I’ll lock the door. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.”
It almost ended there. It was almost an unfortunate incident to be remembered only at three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep and her brain tried to taunt her with all the embarrassing things that she’d ever done. But it didn’t. She felt Nat hesitating.
“Forgive me?”
Kate nodded again.
And then Nat was stepping closer, bending down, coming so close that she could smell coconut body lotion and sweet shampoo and something else undefinable, something that carried an edge of sea-salt and the syrupy scent of freshly mown grass. That hand was on her shoulder again and those feelings were coming back, stronger now that they’d been acknowledged, and then it came.
It was no more than a soft brushing of lips against her cheek. Barely any contact at all. But it was enough to send sparks of heat tickling across her skin.
“Won’t happen again,” Nat said, drawing back.
And then she was skipping away, opening the front door into the glorious morning, letting the smell of the woods inside.
Kate groaned. This could not be happening. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid libido. No. They didn’t get to control things. She controlled things. She, Kate, the brain, whatever. And she knew damn well that all of these feelings were wrong and unacceptable.
“Come on!” shouted Nat from outside. “You’re losing the light.”
And now she had to go out there and pretend that everything was just fine. When all she really wanted to do was curl up in a little ball and pretend that the last five minutes hadn’t happened at all. Well, she thought, she would just pretend they hadn’t happened. The feelings might be there, as inexplicable as they were, but they were impossible feelings so they would be disregarded. Ignored. She wouldn’t even think about them again.
“Come on!” Nat shouted again.
Kate took a deep breath before she stood up, legs still unsteady.
“I’m coming!”<
br />
Chapter Seven
Nat had already started pulling equipment out of the van.
“Where do you want this stuff?”
It was enough to shake Kate’s head back to the present, away from her uncomfortable feelings.
“That equipment is expensive, be careful.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Nat said, a case in each hand. “Now where do you want it?”
“Follow me.”
It didn’t take long to set everything up in a small hollow that Kate had known for years. A tree, surrounded by crunching brown leaves, stood in the middle, grown strangely, vertical then horizontal then vertical again, so it was almost like a natural seat.
“From here, right?” asked Nat. “So that the light comes in from the side?”
Kate glanced up from setting the camera, expecting to tell Nat to move. But Nat had chosen the exact right position, the exact right lighting. Exactly what she’d have chosen herself.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Her fingers were fumbling with the buttons and switches, she was still disconcerted. Her legs still felt a little shaky. But her logical side was coming to the fore, trying to soothe her, to comfort her. Nat was an attractive woman. Her feelings didn’t have to mean anything at all. They were simply a physical reaction. She might be in lust with the woman, and who wouldn’t be? But it wasn’t like she was actually in love with her. That would be a disaster.
Lust. That was it. Stupid hormones crying out to relieve a biological need. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Aren’t you ready yet? The sun’s going to be setting again if you don’t get started.”
She took a deep breath and raised her camera. Looking at Nat through the viewfinder was better. Having the barrier there, the safety of the camera, made her feel more comfortable again. And soon she was snapping, lost in the images she wanted to create, in the shapes and forms rather than the person.
“Lift your head up, angle it, tilt towards the light.”
The orange shift dress almost blended into the colors of the woods, almost mimicked the light of the rising sun. Nat’s makeup was light, exactly as she’d requested. Her skin was evened out, her eyes outlined in grey, a little rouge on the cheeks, a touch of color on the lips. Nothing more. At times she seemed to disappear into the tree, at others to dance around it like some kind of wood nymph.
Fair of Face Page 5
