“Ava, what do you want?” She tried to sound nonchalant, tried to remember she wasn’t supposed to care any longer.
“It’s so good to hear your voice,” Ava said, calmer this time. “I’ve missed you.”
“What do you want, Ava?” she asked once more. She did not want to get into a conversation. There was silence on the other end of the phone, and she waited for Ava to get to the point.
“I’m in trouble, Liv,” she finally whispered into the handset. “Really big trouble.”
“How big?” Olivia sighed and leaned back against the headboard. Her ex-girlfriend’s drama was really not what she needed right now, yet she felt compelled to ask.
“Valari are dumping me, the agency hasn’t decided if they will—”
“What? Wait, why? You’re the face of Valari,” Oliva stated, sitting up and taking notice now. She had worked damn hard to get Ava that job. She heard her ex exhale before she spoke once again. “You have a contract.”
“There are some pictures, the papers are going to print them and—”
“What kind of pictures?” Her curiosity piqued a little. She could only imagine what kind of pictures and why the papers would want to print them.
“Photos of me,” Ava admitted sheepishly.
“Obviously. Look Ava, I really don’t think I am the person you should be—”
“You’re in them,” Ava cut in quickly. “In some of them.”
“And? We dated for a long time; it wasn’t a secret. The papers have printed pictures of us together before.” She couldn’t understand what the big deal was.
“Yeah, I know but…fuck...” Olivia could see in her mind that Ava was now pacing the room; it was what she did when she was admitting to something she had done and been caught out. “Look, do you remember the last time we were together at that hotel on the clifftop?”
“Yes. At the Valari shoot and wrap party in Milan?” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried not to get annoyed with her ex and hear her out. It was one of the biggest events on the Valari calendar, and anyone who was anyone had been there.
“Okay right, you remember how great it was?” Olivia could hear the smirk in her voice, the insinuation that sex with Ava was always great, which on the whole it had been, but she wouldn’t admit it now.
“I remember we had sex,” Olivia offered bluntly; she wasn’t going to give Ava any satisfaction.
“Yeah, so look, before you came upstairs from the bar, I went upstairs and did a couple of lines.” Liv felt herself stiffen; she knew Ava had been doing drugs while away on jobs, but actually when they were together? “I did a couple of lines and Stacey was with me.” Stacey Harding, Ava’s PA.
“And let me guess, you fucked her, right?” Olivia shook her head to herself. Every single time she thought they were getting somewhere, there was always someone else in the picture.
“Look, it just happened, okay. But they have photos of it all, and then you came up to the room, and—” Olivia’s eyes closed as she realised that she had just been sloppy seconds to Stacey. Ava lowered her voice. “They have pics of me going down on you out on the balcony.”
“They have what? How?” she exclaimed, standing and pacing the room herself now.
“There was a guy—” Ava started to explain but was cut off once more by Olivia, her brain on overdrive now. Their room had been on the top floor, facing out to sea. Anyone with a view of them would have to be on a boat.
“So, okay, just get an injunction.” It was pretty simple really, especially with UK privacy laws.
“I can’t,” Ava replied, too quickly.
“Why can’t you? It’s a breach of our privacy.” Again, silence from the supermodel. Olivia stopped pacing. “Ava?”
“Because I invited them,” she finally answered, her voice barely audible.
“Say that again? Say it very slowly so that I can understand exactly what you’re saying,” Liv demanded.
“I said, I invited them to take pictures. When I was drunk and stoned, I agreed to—”
“You agreed…to have the paparazzi photograph us having sex?” She thought back to that night, when Ava had been so insistent on doing it right there on the balcony because, “it would be so much more exciting and erotic.” When Olivia had had several glasses of champagne and had been so pleased to have watched her girlfriend work. When she had lost all inhibition and proudly dropped her robe to reveal her nakedness on what she assumed had been a private balcony.
“He wasn’t papara—”
“Not the fucking point, Ava!” She was livid. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t realise they would sell them to the papers! It was supposed to be a private deal, I thought it would be cool pictures for us to have, and then you know we could always use them if and when we needed the publicity.”
“Fuck you, Ava!” Liv shouted. “What the hell is wrong with you? You have to be the most self-centred asshole I have ever—” She screamed and disconnected the call.
She was going to be splashed naked across every British newspaper on Sunday and then the pictures would... She couldn’t even contemplate the idea of them going worldwide.
Chapter Thirteen
Her mother was sitting in her favourite chair in the lounge when Olivia entered the room and sat opposite her on the couch. She was sipping a glass of water infused with lemon and looking every inch a movie star.
“Drink, darling?” Cynthia asked as she placed her own glass on the coaster on the table in front of her and lifted the jug of iced liquid.
Olivia nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She was fidgeting with her ring, Cynthia noticed as she poured her beautiful daughter a glass and passed it across to her. They sat together in silence for a moment, each contemplating how to start the conversation they both knew they were going to have. “Mom, I need your help.” Olivia spoke the words quickly, her throat closing up as she forced each word out into the ether.
“What do you need, Olivia?” Cynthia’s eyes were soft and engaged with her daughter, unlike how Ava’s had always been averted, always looking elsewhere.
“Ava, she...” How did she explain this to her mother? “Before we broke up, we spent a weekend in Milan with the fashion house, Valari.”
“Okay.”
The sound of small feet running through the hallway put paid to any further discussion as both women’s eyes turned towards the closed door and watched as the handle pushed down and the door opened to reveal Gracie in her swimming costume. “Can we go in the pool, Mummy?”
“Gracie, can you give Mummy a few minutes?” Olivia said, standing and crossing the room to her daughter. She squatted down next to her. “I just need to have a conversation with Nanna and then I am all yours. Is that alright?”
The big dramatic sigh that came from Gracie was almost comical. And Olivia knew just who she had learned it from. “I suppose so. I’ll be in my room,” she answered before turning and flouncing off in the direction of the stairs, doing ballet moves as she went, twirling and hopping from one foot to the other.
Olivia turned to her mother. “I see you’re rubbing off on her.”
Cynthia smirked proudly. “There are worse role models a child could have…I think you were about to tell me about one.”
The sadness returned to Olivia’s features in an instant as she walked slowly back to her seat on the couch.
“After the party we…well we...” She blushed furiously at the idea of talking about sex with her mother.
“Olivia, you are 34 years old. I am aware that you have sex. I have long since accepted that my baby takes her clothes off with other people.”
“Okay, okay.” She smiled at her mother, who returned the grin. “Alright, so we had sex…on the balcony.” She cringed as she watched her mother’s face for any sign she was upset. When she understood that she wasn’t, she continued, “Somebody took photographs of us.” Now her mother’s face was registering something a little more than indifference. “And Av
a, she agreed to it.”
“She what?” Her mother’s voice remained calm, and yet there was an undertone of something much more menacing there.
Olivia stood up and paced the room. “She arranged to have the photographer take intimate photos of us. She had some crazy notion that it would be sexy, but worse still, she planned to use them if both of us, and by that she clearly meant if she, ever needed the publicity. Only now, the photographer has sold them and they are going to be printed in Sunday’s tabloids.”
“The manipulating little bitch.” Cynthia stood and stalked to the bar. “I think I am going to need something stronger. You?” Again, Olivia nodded and fell back into the chair, as her mother proceeded to pour them both a healthy amount of gin into two separate glasses. “Is there anything else?”
“The photographer also has photos of Ava with another woman.” She was sitting on the edge of the seat, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms supported her head. Cynthia stopped pouring the tonic for a moment and took the new information in before continuing on with her task. “And they have photographs of Ava taking drugs, cocaine to be more specific.” Her mother turned now to face her daughter, the look of worry and concern evident on her features. “No, I don’t.” Olivia calmed her mother’s fears instantly. “I have never – I promise.”
“I guess I always hoped you didn’t, but in your world, I never really knew for sure. I guess I didn’t want to think you would, but—”
“Mom, I am no angel. I have smoked a joint or two, but no, not that I wasn’t offered it or around people that did, but it never appealed, and I saw the damage it did to others, which was why I didn’t like or agree with Ava doing it.”
“But she did it anyway?” Cynthia asked, walking back to her chair, two long glasses in her hands as she passed one to her daughter, who took it with a small smile. “And around Gracie?”
“Never around Gracie, but it was one of the reasons we broke up. That and the fact that whenever she was working, she would sleep with any woman that offered. I couldn’t take it anymore, and so I told her I was leaving.” She sipped her drink and enjoyed the cool liquid as it stroked its way down her throat. She needed the courage alcohol would bring.
“I imagine she didn’t like that very much?” Cynthia raised an eyebrow and smirked before noticing the way in which Olivia suddenly looked as white as a sheet. “Liv, what’s wrong?” With her daughter suddenly on the verge of tears, she placed her drink down and moved into the spot next to her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her.
“She was…She was so stoned and high that...” She sucked in a breath and tried to calm her sobs to explain to her mother the most terrifying moment of her life.
“It’s okay Livvy, in your own time, sweetheart.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry.” She wiped at her eyes and face, her tear stains stinging her cheeks.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, Olivia, just say it out loud.” Olivia understood; her mother’s notion of ripping off the plaster would probably be the only way she was going to get it out. It was what Cynthia had always told her when she was a child, when she had come home from school crying because Daphne had been mean or when she first told her mother she was gay. “Just say it out loud Livvy, it won’t seem half as bad once you say it out loud.” And she was right; her mother had never judged her or made her feel badly for telling her anything. So she started to explain.
“Ava wanted to have sex. I didn’t…I told her I was leaving, that I was done with her and all the other women, and the drugs, and the drinking.” Her mother listened intently as she continued. “But she kept on trying to…”
“To have sex?” Cynthia was getting the gist of the story and not liking it one bit.
“Yes. She wanted to have sex and so she grabbed me.” The tears began to fall once more. “And she started pulling at my clothes, trying to pull my dress up. I remember telling her no, I told her no! Her fingernails were scratching me. I had scratches on my thighs for days, but she wouldn’t listen, she just kept going and then she had me pinned and I couldn’t—” The cry of pain that left her daughter at that moment was something Cynthia Copeland had hoped never to hear.
“Did she?” She couldn’t say the word. She didn’t have to as she felt her child’s head nod up and down. She wrapped her arms around her more tightly and held her as though her life depended on it.
“And now those photographs will be in every newspaper and everybody will see me. And what will Gracie think when she’s older?”
“No, no they won’t. I’ll deal with this.” She hugged Olivia tightly. “And then we will deal with you.”
~MB~
And she did. A quick call to her lawyer had the injunction in place by Thursday evening, preventing anyone from publishing any photograph of Olivia Copeland, dressed or otherwise.
She couldn’t do anything about the other photographs of Ava – that was her problem – but as Olivia had not consented to the photographs being taken, nor had any knowledge of the agreement the photographer had had with Ava, it wasn’t difficult to have them pulled, especially once the idea of suing had been brought to the table.
Cynthia had assurances that the photographs and all copies would be destroyed.
And so, Sunday morning brought with it the usual sunshine and French toast, but no nasty headlines of her daughter’s naked form.
Instead the headline read ‘Supermodel Ava single after drugs binge.’
Chapter Fourteen
It was Monday, and Hilary stood at the counter in Starbucks trying to decide if she wanted just an iced coffee or something more spectacular, like a salted caramel mocha Frappuccino. It was a big decision, and one she wasn’t going to take lightly. The good side of her brain, the half that dictated a healthy attitude to life, was telling her to definitely go with the iced coffee, but the naughtier side, the half her father always told her got her into trouble, was screaming Frappuccino….with whipped cream! It was a struggle.
It also didn’t help that she could hear the guy standing behind her tutting and exhaling as though his life depended on getting served in the next three seconds.
She stood back and offered him the option of moving ahead of her in the queue, which of course he took without so much as a thank you. Rolling her eyes, she continued to browse the menu. She was in no rush; all of her laundry was done, and she had even been to the supermarket and updated her fridge with food that wasn’t out of date. There had also been an hour-long gym class too, so overall, she had been pretty productive, and that was what swung it.
“A venti salted caramel mocha Frappuccino with cream and an extra shot to go please.”
The cute girl behind the till shouted out the order to her colleague and rang up the order. “That it?” She smiled, a little flirtatious tilt of the head just adding to the appeal.
“Yep, that’s it, thanks,” Hilary said before she added her own flirtatious grin.
“Okay, that’ll be $5.25. What’s your name?” She stood cup in hand and pen at the ready.
“Its—”
“Hilary?” came a familiar voice from behind her. Turning, she came face to face with Olivia.
“Hey. How are you? Can I get you a drink?” She smiled at her friend, ignoring the rolling eyes and further tuts from the other customers still waiting in line.
“Uh, yeah sure, iced latte please.” The cute girl huffed a little before she tapped away at the till and added the drink to the order, shouting it out to her colleague.
“So that’s Hilary?” the cute girl asked, and Hilary nodded an acknowledgment. “Okay, that’s $9.60.”
Handing over a $10 bill, Hilary pushed a dollar and the change into the tip jar, which at least earned her a small thankful thin-lipped smile from the server, before turning back to face Olivia, who had already left the queue and walked the few steps to the end of the counter where their drinks would arrive.
“Hey, so, how are you?” Hilary asked enthusiastically.
“I – I’m good,” Olivia replied unconvincingly, but Hilary didn’t push her on it. It really wasn’t her place; they barely knew each other. Although Hilary admitted, to herself anyway, that she would like to rectify that if she got the chance.
“Venti salted caramel mocha Frappuccino for Hilary,” shouted the barista as he placed the drink down on the counter, turning without regard to make the next on the list. Hilary picked up her drink and sipped from the straw. God, it tasted good.
“Passing by, or have you got plans?” Hilary asked, taking a good look at the dark-haired woman before her.
Olivia was dressed in the typical Beverly Hills style of casual jeans that were anything but casual, and probably cost as much as Hilary earnt in a night. They had strategically placed slashes that had that worn look to make it appear as though they were old and tattered and were skin-tight, fitting like a glove as they clung to her perfectly firm thighs and shapely calves, tapering to a stop just above the ankle to reveal tanned skin that slipped into three-inch heels. She also wore a plain white t-shirt that was cut short, revealing a midriff that was equally as tanned as the ankles. The outfit was simple but sexy enough to say ‘unavailable to most of the people in this room.’
She had topped off the look with designer shades that sat on top of her head, holding her hair back from her face, which meant that those big brown eyes were fully attentive to everything Hilary said or looked at. Hilary tried desperately not to look away from those eyes and down to her mouth, but it was impossible, and she blushed as she realised, she had been caught.
“Actually, I was just going to hang out.” The answer surprised Hilary. It was obvious to her that Olivia came from the better side of the tracks. The clothes she wore and the way she held herself all spoke volumes about the girl, and everything screamed rich and entitled. Hilary had met those types before and never felt comfortable around them, yet with Olivia it was different. “Gracie is spending the day at what I hope will be her new school, kind of a trial day. If she likes it then she can start right away.”
Model Behavior Page 6
