by Kristen Lane
Leigh froze, losing all control of her facial expressions as she watched herself take a child from him. He was heavy, but moved from the inside out. Leigh had never really held anything under the age of 9. She felt like she had been plucked out of a warm pool of water, her swimsuit ripped off and her red confidence wiped right off of her lips. “What is this?” She practically ejaculated those words.
Nigel smirked, an eyebrow raised, his pink lips folding as he shuffled his cigarette around. “A person. Don’t drop it.”
Leigh’s heart fell as she took her place in the center of the podium. Be confident and terrifying. This child, it must be a symbolize something like innocence? She glanced behind her at all of the fresh-faced women. She was supposed to be the villain in this story. All she was missing was a gun, but she had a child.
She tried, wading lost in the pool of possibilities as the camera kept flashing, becoming reduced to just background sounds a noise.
“Leigh.”
She pressed her lips together. On the bright side, she was becoming more and more comfortable with the child. He was like those earrings you put on that feel really heavy at first, but then, you eventually get used to them. “Yes?” She hated how eager to please she sounded.
“Give me something.”
“What do you want?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.
The director laughed. “A model should never have to ask that.”
Nigel didn’t even look in his direction as he stepped from around the camera. “She isn’t a model, she’s an artist. And between two artists, that is as valid a question as any. As for what I want….” He placed his hands on her shoulders, a look of reassurance in his deep, gray eyes. It seemed so out of place, it caught Leigh caught off guard.
“I want you to look like you’ve done something amazingly terrible.” He turned her around, forcing her to stare at all the extras behind her. “They all bright eyed and terrified… and presumably you’re the reason. I want you to like it. I want you to enjoy the fact that you are holding this stolen child.”
His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheek. She felt herself leaning in to him. “Why would I ever do that.” All sixty people on that roof disappeared right in that moment. She knew he was leaning into her as well but she hardly wanted to believe it.
He placed a hand on her cheek, his fingers tracing circles in her skin. When he spoke again, their lips brushed together. She could feel herself melting inside. “Because it feels so good to do something you shouldn’t.” With that he stepped away.
Leigh couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, but she suddenly felt like she had been tethered to him. The rest of the shoot went along with her doing whatever it was Nigel wanted before Nigel even realized what he wanted. Eventually, the child went back with his mother and extras shuffled, and then shuffled again and then shuffled again. At one point, Leigh found herself holding a man by his neck. She wasn’t sure how Nigel had brought this secret person out of her, one she had been dying to meet all along.
Just when he was about to grab his last few shots, the director stepped up beside him. “I gotta tell you, Nigel you’re a fucking genious.”
He nodded, his lips stretching into a mischievous smile.
Their voices came to her as if they were observing her from outside of a fish boat.
“Don’t look so surprised. The almost kiss always gets them.”
The director smirked. “All you gotta do is get them to feel a little scandalized.”
They both looked at her.
Leigh was seeing red. All of the sudden, she felt dirty just from being touched by him.
“Like they have a secret.”
Nigel let out a dark chuckle. “Of course.”
Leigh gripped that man just a little bit harder. Four minutes later, the shoot was over. That was it. Leigh stormed off of the platform, making a line for the roof door as quick as she possibly could. She streamed right by her manager. Usually, she would have stayed behind, probed for some general feedback, put herself in the running for more connections, but not today. That afternoon she was more concerned with keeping her head on her shoulders and her eyes dry.
She was so close to the door. No one seemed to have even noticed…
“Leigh.”
Oh God, it was Nigel.
She had to smile at him. He was practically her boss. “Did I do something wrong?” It came out aggressive and shrill.
He cocked his head to the side. “I’m beginning to think I did.”
Leigh sucked in a deep breath. Stick up for yourself. This was the moment she had trained for. “Look, I don’t know what kind of plans you have for me, but I’m not really into… what you seem to be in to.”
He narrowed his eyes. “If that’s producing great art, I must have been mislead.”
Leigh set her jaw. “Directors have been using that line for decades.”
He nodded, a knowing look on his face. “I want you to stop thinking you know about me. You don’t.”
She scoffed. Something about him made her feel she could say anything. She was no longer afraid of what he’d think. “Only you know about me.”
He let out a short chuckle. “Alright,” He held up his hand in defense. “We’re perfect strangers. Why don’t you come out and have a drink with me to remedy that.”
Remedie?
Leigh couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.
Chapter Three
Like always, the street was empty. Light pooling from family windows and streetlamps warmed the night. She pulled out her cigarette again. Now, it felt more like an earned indulgence than a nervous tick. She wanted to look relaxed when he arrived, like she was going to take a walk anyway and had barely expected him.
She heard the roar of a motorcycle before she saw him. Her stomach flipped as, once again, he had surprised her. Now, she was going to be expected to get on a bike for the first time with a man she had practically met five minutes ago. He pulled his bike to a stop and climbed off, slipping his helmet off. “Oh good, I didn’t want to have to yell over your wall.”
“Why is that too romantic for you?” She stepped towards the bike, examining it as if all the answers were just right there.
He stalked her. “Is this not enough for you?”
She turned, surprised to find him right behind her. “We both know this isn’t for me.”
“Oh is that so?”
Leigh couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to fuck him and punch him all at once, but she just nodded and answered his question. “This is so you can tell yourself that no matter what, you’re more comfortable than I am.”
He nodded. “So now I know, you’ve never been on a motorcycle.”
Leigh narrowed her eyes. “I wanna be on a runway one day, covered in Chanel. How am I gonna do that if I’m filleted across an Italian highway?”
“Maltese. Not Italian.”
“I don’t care.”
“Of course not. That’s my job.”
Leigh wanted to backspace and start all over. She did care, she just didn’t want to get corrected by him.
But he just leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead, like he had done it a thousand times before. “Don’t you worry Farrah Fawcett, I will make sure your pretty legs make it to christmas.”
She wanted to kick him, but she didn’t want to leave him. Odd. “Don’t patronize me.” She felt his arm snake around her waist.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said as he handed her the helmet.
Leigh clutched it, feeling grateful for something to shield her from the impending danger, but then she realized something. “Where’s yours?”
He chuckled once. “I don’t need a helmet. You won’t either. I’m that good. But I don’t expect you to just believe me.”
She nodded once and put it over her head, trying not to think about what the hell her beach curls would look like when she eventually took it off. As they were racing do
wn the much too narrow streets, she couldn’t believe what she had been talked into doing. Why couldn't he have come in a car, or a rickshaw, or walked like a gentleman? Why did he have to assert his manliness over her like that. He must have been going three hundred miles and hour and he took to every bend like he hoped they would crash into something. Her heart was throbbing in her the pit of her belly and her body shook from head to toe. She hated every second of it, especially the fact that she had to cling to him like a baby because she felt the force of locomotion ripping her away from him.
More minutes passed, but it never ended, and all Leigh could think about was getting out of the situation. A good guy would have gone easy. “Stop!” She drove her fist into his back as hard as she could.
He eventually, infuriatingly slowly came to a stop on the side of a road. There was a sharp drop off on the side of the road, a steep hill lined with flowers. The sound of water, no ocean, drifted towards her in the night wind.
She panted, trying to hold onto her anger despite the fact that the sharp smell of salt water and lull of watered down jovial voices reached her from wherever paradise was. She was starting to get excited about this mysterious destination even though she nearly lost her life to get there.
“Getting cold feet?” He was infuriatingly calm.
“No. They’re shaking. I’m not going to be coy because there’s no point. But fuck you.”
He grimaced. “How could I have already fucked this up.”
He sounded strangely concerned, like he really didn’t want to have fucked everything up, like she was a glass doll he was trying, and failing, at taking care of. “I don’t know. Use your head.”
He ducked his head. “Are you afraid.”
“You knew I would be.”
“What is your problem?”
“Did you think I would like it?”
He had nothing to say to this. Instead he just gazed at her, an even stare, his eyes practically glowing in the night. “I don’t know.”
She nodded. “And that’s the point.” Leigh couldn’t spend another second standing there. Suddenly, her mother was all she could think about. She pivoted on her heel and went walking back the direction they had come from. She had no idea how long they had been riding for, but she was confident she could remember all the twists and turns.
She had only taken three steps when she felt something grip her arm, tight. “What the hell are you doing?” His lips were folded into a scowl, his eyes alive with such feeling it exhilarated her.
“I’m going home.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Why do you presume to?”
Both of his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I see.”
“Look, you have no idea my history with motorcycles because you didn’t care to ask. Just like you didn’t ask if you could kiss me in front of strangers. Just because I’ve seen your name in Vogue and you’ve seen my face in Paper doesn’t mean we aren’t strangers,” But by the time Leigh had stopped talking, she could she his eyes grow warm and smokey. She knew he wasn’t listening to her, but at the same time, she knew that she was the only thing on his mind was her and maybe the it was the model in her, always vying for attention, or maybe it was her mother in her, but all she knew was that she’d do anything for him to never stop looking at her like that.
“That wasn’t a kiss.” He grabbed her and held her close.
“It wasn’t?” Her eyes fell on his lips. She forced herself not to think of anything else.
“No.”
Before she took her next breath, he locked his lips on hers. Leigh grunted at first, but then let herself melt into it. He knew exactly what to do with her lips, the suction of his mouth sucking her in, his lips so soft it had to be illegal. His words from earlier stuck her mind and yes, if it felt this good it had to be bad. Something had to be bad about this.
He went up for air. “We’re three minutes away from drinks but I already feel buzzed.”
Leigh rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes wide open as she took in every detail of his neck. “So what did you have planned for after?”
He glanced down his nose at her. “There was gonna be an after?”
Leigh stepped away from him. “Don’t be stupid. I can hear the ocean…”
With that, Nigel hopped back on his motorcycle and Leigh gingerly followed, but this time, he went so slow that she could see each flower, each blade of grass as they past by. Five minutes later, they were walking on the sands of the beach, the water rolling over their feet. It was all so sensual, the warm, wetness of it. She could feel it in her bones.
He stopped her and leaned in for another kiss, his hands finding their way into her leather jacket. She sighed.
“Swim with me,” He whispered.
She didn’t know what the right answer was. Do what he says? Don’t do what he says? Resist and then eventually do what he says? She decided to just do what she wanted. Wow, she really did feel drunk. None of it seemed to matter. It was as if they were in some sort of fantasy land where their actions had no consequences in the real world. At least, that’s what she told herself as she undressed in front of him.
He took her cue and she liked the way he pretended it was her idea all along. She beheld him like he was a painting in the Louvre. On a whim, she fished out her cigarettes and lit one, before putting both of their clothes a safe distance from the shore.
When she turned back around, she found herself struck by how beautiful he was. Tall, towering over her, not a pound out of place and a myriad of tattoos marking his chest and his back, and under his arms, and on his ankle.
There.
She could tell by the ink that it was the newest, a tattoo straight from India. It made him seem even more mysterious and entirely worldly. She felt like she could learn something from him. She wanted to bed into him and all the stories she could imagine he would tell about his adventures, all the stories she could tell him about hers….
Chapter Four
Leigh sucked in a deep breath. Her butt was starting to hurt from sitting for so long in that chair, but she couldn’t stand the thought of standing up and being watched as she walked around the room to air out her legs.
“You changed your hair,” Nigel took the liberty of fingering her gray locks in his hand.
Leigh pursed her lips. She hated the way she couldn’t decide whether she wanted him to stop or not. “I couldn’t decide between blond and black.”
He chuckled. “This isn’t exactly in the middle.”
“I wasn’t going for the middle. I was going for something different.” Leigh didn’t think he was entitled to know about the way she tried to erase herself after him.
“This isn’t all that different. It’s decidedly you.”
“Well who did you expect me to be?”
He scoffed. “You always ask the most difficult questions.”
“You don’t know what I always do. Not anymore.”
“Why are you so determined to hurt me?”
Leigh stopped cold at that question. “Maybe because I know that I can’t.”
Nigel opened his mouth to say something else when there was the sound of static from over head. A man clearing his throat. “I would collect your cell phones but frankly, this airport is expansive and I don’t have that kind of time. If you can’t tell, you’re a hostage and if that makes you antsy, go ahead, try to use your phone. You can't get to them and they can’t get to you. No cell lines. Not for you.”
“He’s from London,” Nigel breathed.
Leigh glowered at him. “Do you know him?” She could hear the sound of boots from somewhere distant. They echoed in the almost empty halls.
“God no. What does that even mean?”
“That your friends were fucking trouble-makers.”
“Shh…” It was a man in the back corner with silver hair.
As Leigh turned back around, the source of the boots walked past the open doors to the lounge. Two men wearing all black. Bullet
-catching vest and dark hair slicked back. Scowls and guns. Leigh’s blood rushed to her head. It didn’t feel real until right at that moment. All at once, she had no idea how this would end, if she would even alive the next time the sun rose.
Chapter Five
“There has got to be an easier way up this fucking cliff.” Leigh tried her best to keep up with Nigel, only it was next to impossible on account of the fact that there were thorns everywhere she stepped, hard, rocky sand kept getting caught in her shoes and she couldn’t deal with the fact that every step she took was on an incline. The wind had decided not to come out that day, but the sun was at full force, beating down on Leigh’s bareback with all it had.
“It’s not a cliff.” He stopped at the top of a rock and glanced around him.
Leigh reached up for a hand as she joined him. She had to hand it to him, she could scarcely think of anything more beautiful than that bright blue ocean, accented with the gray spray of the waves, more stunning than the sunflowers practically glowing in the sunlight, the tint of the red dirt, the sharp tinge of the forest green grass and shrubbery.
Nigel lifted the camera from where it hung on his neck and took a snapshot of Leigh’s profile.
She chuckled at the flash. “God, I’m off duty. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”
Nigel let out his dark chuckle and wrapped his arms around her, encasing her in a hole that made her feel like nothing in the world could knock them over. “You’re never off-duty to me babe.”
And…. there it was. Over their last two weeks together, Nigel never failed to make her feel like a lucky girl, someone not only special because he chose her, but chosen because she was special, like Princess Diana. But then, out of nowhere, just when she was starting to relax, he’d do something absolutely obnoxious, like talk to her like she was his assistant. “Don’t call me that.”
He frowned. “It’s a reflex.”
Leigh sucked in a sharp breath. “That just makes it worse.” With that, she stepped off of the rock and into what seemed to be a fairly harmless patch of shrubbery, but then her foot kept falling and falling until it ended up in between two hard rocks. “Goddamnit!”
