“Hilary, you can’t just—”
Hilary sat up, her face flushing with anger and sadness. “Just leave it Liv, I’m not going to dance. I can’t lose my dad,” she said firmly. Standing, she crossed the room. “Just gimme some space, okay?”
“I guess I had better start looking for work then,” Olivia muttered to herself as Hilary closed the bathroom door.
~MB~
Space was what Hilary had asked for, and Olivia was happy to give her that. Given the choice, she would rather have stayed glued to her side making sure she had everything she needed, but she was mature enough to know that Hilary wasn’t pushing her away. She grabbed her car keys and headed out. It was far too early to collect Gracie.
At first, she drove around with the idea of visiting Hilary’s dad, but she decided that as much as she would be doing the right thing for Hilary, it wasn’t her place to interfere, not just yet.
They both needed time to work out how they felt before anyone would be able to help bring them back together.
As she drove, she began to think about the events of the previous evening. She had honestly never felt as happy as she did when Hilary danced just for her. It was so sensual and erotic; they had shared something intimate and uniquely theirs. When she watched the club’s patrons place their money on her, it just turned up the heat of her attraction and arousal for the blonde. She was proud, proud to say she was hers and that it would be her she was going home with to make love to.
But Ava had ruined it. Ava had turned up and behaved abysmally, ruining the night and almost ruining Hilary’s relationship with her father. The more she drove and thought about it, the angrier she became until she realised she was parked outside of the hospital.
Arriving at the right reception desk, she filled out the relevant forms and was pointed in the right direction, and before she knew what she was doing, she was standing inside the room where Ava Janko lay sleeping.
Olivia stood there for a while just watching, trying to work out how it was that this woman had gone from the charming, fun and honest person she had fallen in love with to the selfish, arrogant and unfaithful person she now was.
“You can sit down.” Her eyes were still closed, but Ava was awake. She looked like crap; dark circles sat like plump pillows beneath her eyes. She was thin, way too thin even for a model, and small. Olivia realised she was frail and fragile looking.
This was rock bottom.
“I’m not staying,” Olivia said, her voice cold and unfriendly.
“Then why are you here?” Ava opened her eyes now and turned to face her. Those once shining eyes were now dull and lifeless.
“I wanted—” She stopped and took a moment to think. “I want to know, why?”
Chapter Forty-Six
Ava just looked at her, her eyes searching her face for something she didn’t see any longer. She pressed the button on the remote and the back of the bed lifted her to a sitting position.
“Why? Why I love you? Why my life is falling apart?” She shook her head. Olivia pulled the chair closer and sat down.
“Why you made cocaine more important than me? Than Gracie? Why you raped me?”
“Oh, because it’s all about you, right, Liv? It’s all about what I did wrong and how it hurt you?” Anger instantly rose in her tone.
“Right now? Yes, it is. We were happy, we had everything going for us, and then you—”
“You were happy! You had everything going for you, you just assumed I felt the same,” Ava said, her voice louder now.
“And taking drugs made that any better? You could have talked to me!”
“No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell you I wasn’t happy because that would have made you unhappy.”
Olivia was dumbfounded and hurt, hurt that their relationship wasn’t what she had thought it was, that her lover had felt she was unable to talk to her.
“So, I made you unhappy?” She needed to know, needed to understand what she had done so wrong because she had no idea, and that could be a problem moving forward with Hilary.
Ava shook her head and laughed, a sardonic laugh. “Yeah Liv, I am running around LA trying to get you back because you made me unhappy.” Her voice was dripping in sarcasm. “You were the only thing that didn’t make me unhappy, don’t you get that? I hated leaving every week to go traipsing off to Milan or Paris while you had to stay at home and work. I hated all the sycophants crawling up my arse every day and the constant having to be ‘Ava.’”
“But you created ‘Ava.’ The first time we met you made a big deal of it. ‘Ava, no last name.’ Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Because I had no right to be unhappy. I had everything.” She began to cry silent tears. “My parents are Serbian.” The sudden change of subject confused Olivia.
“I know.”
“So am I. I wasn’t born in the UK. I was born there too, and we lived in Belgrade until I was six. I was two or three when the war started. Things happen in war, things we don’t talk about. War changes men and brings ungodly things to the doorstep. My parents got us out, but not before—” Her breath shuddered as she tried to stem the flow of tears. “We didn’t talk about it ever again. Once we were safe in England, we—my parents didn’t allow it to be mentioned again. Life was a struggle in the UK, we left behind a life and arrived in the UK needing to find and build a new one. My father was a doctor in Serbia, but he didn’t have the qualifications or the paperwork to be that in the UK, he got a job in a supermarket. They struggled to make ends meet and keep me fed and clothed, they gave up everything for me, I couldn’t fail them.” Olivia was dumbstruck, why didn’t she know the story behind leaving Serbia? “I was at an event in Milan, I’d been gone for weeks, one show after another then photoshoots, and it felt like it was never ending.” Olivia remembered it; she had hated being apart for that long. She had missed Ava terribly, but it was right at the beginning of Ava’s career, and if she was going to become the supermodel they knew she could be, then these were the things she needed to do. Olivia had worked her arse off to get her those gigs. “I got drunk, too much champagne and not enough to eat as usual at these things, why do they always think models don’t eat?” She chuckled sadly and Olivia smiled, understanding the joke. “Someone passed me a joint and I didn’t even think about it. I started chatting to this girl and she was having so much fun and I just felt so miserable, I wanted to be like her. Next thing I noticed she had this little vial of white powder with a tiny spoon inside the lid and she scooped a little out and snorted it. I don’t even know why I did it, but I asked her for some. It felt amazing. I woke up in her bed the following morning.”
Olivia felt the slap to her heart once more as she realised just how long this had really been going on for. Their whole relationship had never been what she had thought it was, but at least now she had an understanding of why that was.
“She was at the next two or three shows and she introduced me to other people, and before I knew it, every show I went to there would be someone there that had something, and they were always so willing to share. I felt invincible Liv, for the first time I felt completely happy just those few moments when the drugs hit and everything feels so great. I began to crave it and, in the end, it was all I thought about. When I could get my next hit.” She was silent for a beat, before adding, “I’m gonna get clean, Liv, I promise. I know I’ve said it so many times before, but this time—”
“I know you will, Ava. If you set your mind to it then I know you can do it.” Olivia spoke gently, placing a hand on top of Ava’s thin bony fingers.
“And us?” Ava asked the question with such hope, but Olivia wouldn’t lie to her.
“Ava, there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. I can never forget what you did.” Olivia held her gaze until, guiltily, she looked away. “You have to do this for you. Get clean, be a better person for someone else. I’m happy now, with Hilary.”
Olivia watched as more tears sprung forth and Ava turned her head away, staring
blankly out of the window, and then she walked away. Finally leaving her old life behind.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Michael Palmer sat quietly in the kitchen of his home, a mug of black coffee in his hand and a week of silence in his head. It had been a lonely week where work had been the mainstay of his attention. He had calmed down somewhat from his initial reaction, but he was still upset.
Cynthia had chewed his ear off, called him a hypocrite, and even Debbie had been over to try and make him see sense. But no matter how he looked at it, he just couldn’t get past the thought of his baby, his little girl, naked and cavorting for dirty old men and women who should know better.
And what hurt the most was that he understood Cynthia’s reasoning, because he had been a man who admired a woman for taking her clothes off. He had watched films, and bought magazines, and talked around the water cooler about women just like his daughter.
It had already been seven days, the longest period of time that Hilary had ever gone without contacting him, or vice versa. Even when she was travelling, he would receive emails, postcards, letters, and call. But he had been just as stubborn in not calling her. They needed to talk, that much he knew.
~MB~
Being out of work was not a new thing to Hilary. She had spent plenty of time moving from job to job, though she had never had one that had earned her as much as she did when dancing. Even as a nurse she would never earn that kind of money, but she wasn’t a nurse, yet. She had to find a job first, and until then she needed to find something before her savings ran out completely and she would be reliant on Olivia, which didn’t seem fair, especially as they were planning to move in together.
Olivia was already at an interview. Her girlfriend had been amazing. Not once had she complained or pushed. She had allowed Hilary to take her time and work through the things that hurt and bothered her. She had encouraged her to talk to her dad, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. She wasn’t strong enough to hear him talk about her mother and how disappointed she would be. She wasn’t ready to look in his eyes and see how disappointed he was in her, and so she had avoided anything that meant dealing with him, even turning down an evening with Olivia’s mother just in case he was there in some kind of helpful, organised event to get them talking.
~MB~
Hilary heard the key slide into the lock and the handle squeak a little when Olivia let herself into the flat. She had been for an interview and looked exhausted.
Opening the fridge, Hilary pulled out the bottle of OJ and unscrewed the cap. “Hey, how did it go?” She poured two glasses of juice and handed one to Olivia as she pulled her jacket off and set her bag down on the table.
“Okay, I think.” Olivia smiled, taking a good gulp of the drink in her hand. “It’s a really cool place. I think I’d like working there.”
“Well, it does have the reputation as the best club in town, and you know who the owner’s wife is, don’t you?” Hilary said, eyes widening when she smiled. She had always been a fan.
“Uh huh, it was the ‘wife’ that interviewed me.” Olivia grinned.
“Really? Wow, I didn’t realise she was so hands-on. What’s she like?”
“I’m kidding, she just had babies. The bar manager was cool though. They seem like they know what they are doing. It’s a good job, good pay and benefits, and I think I can be what they are looking for, so—”
“So when will you find out?” Hilary moved around the breakfast bar and placed her hands around Olivia’s waist. “I mean, we should book a table somewhere to celebrate.”
“I haven’t got it yet.” Olivia laughed and leaned back against her lover.
“But you will.” Hilary kissed the side of her head. “You will.”
~MB~
It was chilly. Early March had finally dropped the temperatures to the average for LA, and as both women were naked it made sense to use body heat to keep warm. They’d made use of these last few days with neither of them having a job to go to.
Hilary had found the source of the heat lower down the sheets, between firm tanned thighs. She used her mouth to keep the flame burning as Olivia succumbed once more to the pleasurable movements of her lover’s tongue. It swept back and forth against the tight bundle of nerves that were currently on fire. Rocking her hips in rhythm, Olivia reached out to grasp handfuls of Hilary’s hair.
“Oh fuck, baby…Right there…” Olivia begged.
She had never had a lover enjoy her so much this way. There had been other lovers who had gone down on her, but generally it had been a means to an end, something to get her excited about the main event. But not with Hilary, Hilary enjoyed it. Hilary liked tasting her, and in truth, Olivia loved it too. She loved to look down and see her lover between her legs, eyes looking back at her as she sucked her harder and saw the reaction that move got her. She only had to flick at her with the tip of her tongue at the right moment and Olivia would climax unlike any orgasm she had ever had, and that was where she was, right now. She was right there, right now this minute, hovering on the precipice, enjoying those tiny flicks that any minute would…
Somebody was knocking at the door.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Dad,” Hilary gasped, tightening her robe. She suddenly felt very conscious of the fact that she was naked underneath and that Olivia was naked in bed awaiting her return. “Uh, come in, I just need to – uh – I will be right back.” She closed the door behind him and ran quickly to their room.
“Get dressed,” she said urgently while pulling her own robe off. Olivia salivated at the sight.
“What? Why? Baby, come on!” she cried, her hands drifting lower to where she really needed Hilary right now. “Who is it?”
“My dad. Now get dressed.” She threw Olivia’s shirt at her.
The arousal drained in a second.
~MB~
Hilary’s father sat rather uncomfortably at the kitchen table as he waited for his daughter, and he assumed Olivia, to return from the bedroom. Another thing he didn’t want to think about was what he might have interrupted. His discomfort was confirmed the moment that Olivia strolled into the kitchen looking flushed and avoiding eye contact with him. “Hi, Michael,” she said quickly before turning away.
“Hello Olivia.”
Hilary appeared seconds later and sat down opposite him while Olivia filled the coffee pot and began the process of making coffee.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Michael began. “I realise this has been difficult, and my reaction was—” He looked up at her and grimaced. “I can’t help how I feel about it Hils. No father ever wants this for his child. You have to understand that?”
Hilary nodded her understanding; it was, after all, the main reason she had never said anything about it in the first place.
“But I also realise that you’re not a child anymore and it isn’t for me to make decisions for you. I would be a hypocrite to turn around and tell you that what you’re doing is wrong when I—“ He inhaled and blushed slightly as he spoke next. “When I have been to bars and watched other men’s daughters do the very same. When I have seen magazines of naked women, or lusted over film stars.” At that point he glanced quickly over at Olivia, who raised an eyebrow at the comment clearly meant to describe her mother. Olivia didn’t mind so much. Her mother was beautiful, and in her younger days she was considered the sex symbol of the day, but right now it just added further to her embarrassment.
“Dad? I didn’t tell you I was dancing because I knew you wouldn’t like it, but you’re right, I am a grown up, and how I choose to live my life is my choice.”
“I know, but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t have to like it, and I have no problem with you voicing that opinion, but—” She could feel her eyes fill with tears instantly. “When you bring up Mom—” She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and she felt the safe, warm hands of her lover grasp her shoulders. “When you bring up Mom, it hurts because it’s unfair.”
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“What do you mean?” he asked, reaching across the table to take her hand.
“I don’t remember her.”
Michael found himself smiling sadly as he remembered back to his wife. She was the love of his life and if she hadn’t passed, they would have worked things out and would still be together now, he was sure of it.
“You’re very much like her,” he said gently. “And I was wrong to suggest she would have turned in her grave because the truth is, she would probably have jumped up and danced with you.” He smiled. “Where do you think you get your free spirit from? Your mother would be so proud of you no matter what you did, because she loved you.” He had a few tears himself now. “As do I.”
~MB~
Michael left an hour or so later, having had his apology accepted, and with a promise to sit down with Hilary and talk about her mother. He had always tried to, always meant to, but it saddened him still. The loss of the woman who was the love of his life still hurt his heart.
Olivia snuggled up with Hilary on the couch. She pulled a blanket over them and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, pulling her against her own warmth.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Olivia whispered. “How we only have one set of parents between us.”
“You never met your dad either?” Hilary asked as she turned to lie on her back.
“Nope, never.”
“And it doesn’t bother you?”
“Not really, I mean when I was little maybe I wondered about him, but, I – it never seemed to matter with my mum and Joan. They always kept me entertained.” She chuckled as she remembered some of the things they had done as a family. “They came to all my sports days at school, and Joan would always step in when it was the father – daughter race. It wasn’t until I was 15 that I realised they weren’t a couple.”
“I think I need to meet Joan again, there are stories there.” Hilary grinned while reaching up to tuck a strand of errant hair behind Olivia’s ear. “I have images of my mom, but I’m not sure if they are my memories, or are memories I have invented over the years listening to Debbie and Amanda. Even Marnie has stories to tell.”
Model Behavior Page 20
