Give Me Love

by Kate McCarthy

“You remembered,” I whispered, thinking back to our text message conversation of years before.

  “Babe,” he said softly, a smile curving his lips.

  E: Do you have any pets?

  J: There’s golden orb spider that hangs out under the eaves of our deck. Does that count?

  E: It only counts if he has a name.

  J: His name is Gideon the Gold. He’s very fierce.

  E: Sounds a bit pompous to me.

  J: Don’t go hurting his feelings now. He’s also very sensitive. What about you?

  E: No. I argued with Mum the day before my sixteenth birthday for a dachshund puppy because I’d always wanted one.

  He knew she’d died the next day, so I had left the obvious unsaid.

  I reached into the box and picked up the tiny bundle of fur, cuddling him against my chest as he squirmed and wriggled, his sandpapery little tongue attacking my cheek. The puppy got passed around excitedly until I eventually plopped him on the grass.

  Mac got out of the pool and flopped down next to us. “Oh, my little baby boy,” she crooned as the puppy wriggled excitedly and climbed all over her. “You are such a cute little man, oh yes you are.” She gave me a meaningful look. “Everyone knows a puppy is a trial baby.”

  I could see Jenna’s eyes twinkle at this statement, but she still shook her head at Mac. “I can’t wait for you to have kids, my darling, if you think it’s as simple as raising a dog.”

  Mac frowned at her mum as she stood up and wrapped a beach towel around her waist. “Of course I don’t.”

  Jenna picked up an empty tray and headed for the kitchen. Mac followed. “You know if Jared and Evie have a baby then you’ll leave the rest of us alone.” Her chatter continued as she followed her mum to the kitchen until I couldn’t hear any more.

  Jared crouched next to me on the grass and we watched the puppy for a moment as he did some business before stopping to chew on some grass. “So what are you going to call our little man?”

  I sipped my drink thoughtfully. “Peter.”

  “Peter?” he laughed.

  I grinned. “I have a thing about dogs having human names.”

  He ruffled my hair. “Yeah? Why is that?”

  “Because it’s cool. Look at him, he’s already got serious street cred.” Peter had his paws up against a small tree, yipping at a tiny garden lizard that scurried away for its life. “Already taking down the creatures of the neighbourhood.”

  We watched as he made a swift move for Jenna’s vegetable garden and yanked out a carrot with immense delight. He began barking and dancing around the orange vegetable as though waiting for it to jump up and join in his playful game.

  “Oh shit,” Jared muttered. “Peter!” Peter stopped and looked at us. “Would you look at that? He already knows his name.”

  The next morning found us in the loft, waking to a shredded couch cushion, a nasty unmentionable on the timber flooring in the corner behind the dining table, and the little Christmas tree I’d set up a week ago on its side. Bits of tinsel lined a festive yet damning trail towards the bathroom from where Travis let out a shout. I immediately scooped Peter up and headed for the safety of the front door.

  * * *

  A pair of chewed shoes, a shredded roll of toilet paper, numerous inside unmentionables, and a week later, I stood stiffly in the studio dressing room for a photography shoot for Jamieson.

  Because Jimmy was still at large, apparently he was some sort of super villain with the special power of invisibility, Jared and Peter had accompanied us and were waiting out in the lounge area while the five of us stood in the dressing room getting ready.

  I pulled the shirt off the rack that was listed with my name and held it up dubiously. “Uh, hmm, do you think there’s more to it than this?”

  The light of the window had the sun shining right through the sheer fabric. It was white, with a collar and buttons up the front, almost like an office shirt, but the sleeves had gathers up the sides to the elbows and tied with little red bows.

  Henry shrugged at my question.

  “For once I wish Mac was here,” I muttered.

  Mac wished she was too, but it was party season which meant we were booked solid. This left her channelling Ripley under the drowning weight of work and us running for our lives whenever we hit her sights. Even Peter, who had rapidly climbed the aggressive ranks of the doghood on our street in just the past week, scampered out of her path.

  Bec, a short, fine-boned lady with spikey hair, who looked far too young to be the capable stylist she appeared to be, poked her head in the dressing room. “All set?”

  “Um, no.” I waved the shirt about. “Is there something I’m supposed to be wearing underneath this?”

  “Nope. That’s it, no bra either please.” She left, shutting the door behind her.

  Frog and Cooper let out matching shouts of laughter as I stood in disbelief.

  “I’m sorry, but did she just tell me to get naked?”

  “Pretty much.” Cooper smirked as he took his own shirt off and threw it in the corner. “Get your gear off.”

  Frog shrugged. “Just ask Bec if you can wear something else.”

  “I can’t,” I wailed. “This is our first proper photo shoot. I don’t want to set the precedent of being labelled a prima donna.”

  The four boys slid on their provided jeans and stood around bare chested. In minutes they were done. I’d been worked on for hours.

  “At least get the pants on, Evie, then I’ll go get the stylist for you and see if she has something else,” Jake offered.

  “Thanks, Jakie,” I said gratefully.

  I reached for the shorts on the rack and slid them on as he headed out the door. They were black leather, short, and matched the shirt with their gathers up the sides and thin red ties finished in a bow dangling down my legs. A pair of flat heeled, calf high, brown boots sat by my meagre clothing offering to complete the look. Having come out of hair and makeup, my hair was huge, tumbling down my back in wild waves. Liquid eyeliner gave me sex kitten eyes, and someone had spent at least half their lifetime painting temporary tattoos up my left forearm and left side of my torso.

  Jake returned with Bec who was looking harassed. “Problem?”

  “Well...” I paused, hesitant to be the cause of further harassment. “I’m not sure about the whole shirt with nothing underneath thing. I mean, it’s a really nice shirt,” I tacked on hurriedly, “but―”

  “You don’t want your boobs on camera,” she finished for me.

  “Not particularly,” I muttered, wondering if that made me a giant prude.

  Maybe it did, but didn’t these things come back to bite you later in the ass? I planned on having kids eventually. They didn’t need to be blinded one day while performing an innocent Google search for photos of their mum in her heyday.

  She put her pixie like hands on my shoulders and turned me towards her. “This is completely professional and you can trust us, okay? We’re going to have you positioned so that nothing here...” she pulled a hand away to gesture at my chest “...will actually be seen. You’ll be able to tell there’s nothing on underneath, but you won’t quite see what that is. You’ll retain your modesty while still enabling the photo to look sexy as hell. Is that okay?”

  I nodded at her explanation and changed, safe in the knowledge that my future children would be unscathed from embarrassment.

  Emerging from the dressing room, Jared did a double take and called me over.

  “Uh, babe...” With my arms crossed over my chest, he gave my shirt a pointed glance. “Is this a low budget photo shoot?”

  What was he talking about? Porn?

  “What?”

  His eyes flicked to the guys who were standing around without shirts as they waited for me. “They can’t afford to clothe you all?”

  I chuckled as Peter tried to climb my boots and kept sliding off and explained to him what Bec had told me. “Trust me, Jared.” I even added my apprehension ab
out my future children and not scarring them for life.

  “Yeah?” The corners of his lips curled up slightly. “How many kids you planning on having?”

  “Two,” I announced.

  I’d thought about this a lot. One of each so I could take my daughter shopping while my son went off to do some sort of sporting activity with his dad. Terribly stereotypical, but this was my little fantasy, and I could have whatever I wanted. Though said fantasy may not bode so well if Jared and I ever headed down that path together. Jenna had three boys before she finally got her little Mactard.

  I visibly shuddered and Jared frowned, picking Peter up and tucking him under his arm. “Only two?”

  “Why? How many are you planning for?”

  “Four.”

  “Four?” I shouted. Maybe four was normal in his world, but in the real world that shit would not fly.

  “Ah, any time you’re ready, Evie,” John, our photographer, cut in.

  I sucked down my panic and turned to John with a brilliant smile. “Be right there.”

  Jared eyed my outfit with irritation. “I’m gonna take Petie outside, okay? Leave you to it.”

  Jared left through the side door, and John had me sit on a chair in front of a white backdrop while the boys watched on. “Just a couple of single shots to start with,” he advised.

  He pushed my legs around a bit until my calves were spread out but my knees still close together. “Now lean over. I want one arm here,” he murmured and put my right elbow on my leg, “and the other here,” and put my left elbow on my left leg, “but cup your face with your left hand.”

  He went back to his camera after he’d finished prodding me into a human mannequin and took a quick couple of shots. He muttered a bit with Bec, and she came over to fiddle my arm and hair around a bit.

  “Now pout your lips just a little and look to the left of my shoulder. Put your left arm down.”

  Click, click, click.

  He walked over and showed me some of the images on the back screen of his camera, and I saw Bec was right. You couldn’t see anything but the mere suggestion gave the shot a sexy vibe.

  “Sex sells,” John grinned at me. He went back to the camera set up on his tripod and clicked away a little longer as he called out directives.

  “Guys in the shots now,” he called out. “Lights, Andy.”

  Frog, Cooper, Jake, and Henry moved in as John’s assistant, Andy, started fiddling with the lights until I was blinded as they cast huge shadows on to the white backdrop.

  “Evie, in the middle please. Jake and Henry, on either side. Frog and Cooper, I want you sitting straight-legged in front, hands on the floor behind you. Andy, come grab this chair out of the way will you? Right, Evie, face me. Henry, I want you facing Evie. Put your arm across her chest. Jake, stand slightly behind. I want your arm slung across her back shoulder.”

  Click, click, click.

  More directives, a bit of fuss with everyone’s hair from Bec, and a pat at some shine.

  I didn’t whine but this wasn’t my idea of fun. I was starving but couldn’t eat anything for fear of ruining my made up face or spilling something on the tattoos the poor artist had sweated blood and tears for. Not to mention it was hot and sweaty under the bright lights that were aimed our way.

  John decided he would alleviate that particular problem by telling me to lose the shirt.

  I balked. “Um, sorry?”

  “Evie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Won’t see anything okay?”

  I turned around when the hive of people were removed from the room and unbuttoned my shirt, sliding it off, wondering what the hell I was doing and hoping I could trust John like he said. I tucked my arms across my chest modestly and turned back around as the guys all looked everywhere but at me.

  “Right,” John walked over and grabbed the shirt out of my hands and tossed it over on a chair, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “Jake or Henry,” he muttered. “Henry’s pretty, but Jake’s bigger.” He kept muttering to himself, and I laughed at the comment.

  “Oi.” Henry elbowed me.

  “Frog, Cooper, I want you both standing,” John ordered and rubbed his chin. “Evie, I want you and Henry facing each other and in close. Put your arms around his neck. Henry put your hands in the back pockets of Evie’s shorts. Jake, face me but I want you to put your elbow on Evie’s shoulder and rest your head on your hand, cross your leg over. Frog, next to Jake but face the other way, looking at me. Cooper, next to Henry please. I want you to fold your arms, chin up, face me.”

  We all shifted into the requested positions, and Henry’s eyes hit the ceiling as I awkwardly pressed my bare chest against his and slid my arms around his neck. It felt wrong, like I was hugging my brother.

  John went back to his camera.

  Click, click, click.

  “Evie, head up a little.”

  I glared at Henry as he gave me an odd look. It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten down to my underwear in front of the boys on numerous occasions in backstage dressing rooms, but having my naked chest mashed all over Henry’s had never been on my bucket list.

  “You better not be enjoying this.”

  “Evie, look at me please. Henry, I want you to keep looking at Evie,” John ordered.

  I looked at John.

  Henry smirked. “Please, Chook, it’s like hugging a man.”

  Jared chose that inopportune moment to return through the side door with Peter, and by inopportune I meant extremely shitty timing if the unhappy expression on his face was anything to go by. I didn’t blame him. If I found him hugging a half-naked girl for some photo, I’d be more than unhappy. I’d likely be blinded by the haze of red flooding my vision.

  Click, click, click

  “Chin up, Jake. Frog put your hands in your pockets.”

  Click, click, click.

  “Jake, I want you to shift so your front is pressed against Evie’s back and look at me. Frog, Cooper, both move in closer.”

  After an eternity, whereby man had evolved into space aliens and buildings had been levelled under the melting of the Arctic, John announced that we were done.

  By the time I removed the gunk from my face and body and re-dressed, the boys were peeling out of the parking lot in my Hilux, and Jared was leaning by his Porsche waiting, hands slung on the loops of his jeans, black Raybans covering his eyes. Peter was happily chewing the grass at his feet, oblivious to the tense vibe I felt emanating from Jared.

  I watched him carefully as I walked over, feeling an odd little nudge that scratched the back of my mind. Nothing serious but I was left with the feeling that maybe this thing with Jared and I was moving a little too quickly.

  I adjusted the strap on the bag hanging over my shoulder. “So…”

  Jared folded his arms in case the tense vibe wasn’t enough to warn me of an impending argument, so I sat my bag on the hood of the car and leaned up against it so our shoulders were touching, but we weren't looking at each other. “I knew this girl once, Katja. She went to the same uni as us, majoring in economics. She was, I always thought, both smart and stupid. Smart because she had a GPA that wiped us all out of the water. She was like the rain man of aggregate supply and demand.” I bit my bottom lip and frowned but couldn’t expand further because economics was not my strong suit. “Stupid because she dated this guy who liked to tell her what to do.”

  “Evie―” Jared interrupted with a sigh.

  I looked sideways at his frown. “Let me finish. She didn’t have much in the way of money or family support, so she worked nights and weekends at Revival, a topless waitress bar in the city, telling her boyfriend she was waitressing at a normal restaurant,” I explained. “One day he found out, and when she got home, he cracked her across the head so hard that she fell, hitting her head on the corner of the kitchen bench. She never woke up.”

  I felt all the anger swirling around Jared deflate as he turned around to face me, his legs on either side, straddling
the length of me. “Evie, I’m sorry about your friend, but what are you trying to say? You think I’m going to hurt you?”

  I grasped his forearms. “No! My point is I don’t want to be the type of person who feels they have to hide parts of their life from someone because they’re being told what they can and can’t do. I know...” I raised my voice when he started to protest. “I know you didn’t say a word about the photos. I know you were going to though, so I just wanted to put that out there. You need to trust the decisions I make for my career. Sometimes you might not like them, maybe sometimes I might not either. Just please, trust me, Jared, and if I’m ever unsure about anything I’ll talk to you about it, okay?”

  The corners of his lips turned up. “So you have no grand plans to do a naked Playboy spread wrapped around Henry?”

  “No!” I practically shouted. “God, Jared, he’s like a brother. Besides, Henry said it was like hugging a man.”

  Jared laughed and put both hands on my boobs. “These? Feels like a man?” I gave him a mock glare and smacked his hands away. “I hate to break it to you, baby, but I think he was only saying that to make you feel more comfortable.”

  Satisfied the situation had been diffused, my stomach growled loudly. “Can we go now? I could eat a small country.”

  “Yeah?” He opened up the passenger door for me to hop in. “Which one?”

  “China,” I declared, winking at Jared with an easy smile.

  He moved around the front of the car and folded himself inside the driver’s side, passing a wriggling Peter over to me before he roared the car to life. “What are you trying to say now, you want Mr. Chow’s?”

  “I see my efforts aren’t lost on you.”

  He shook his head at me as we peeled out of the studio car park. “Babe, no time. I have to get back to work after I drop you home. How about we pick up some sushi on the way?”

  I made a face before covering my eyes with my giant sunglasses. “Only if it’s got tempura chicken in it.”

  Peter licked my cheek so I could only assume that when it came to the battle of food, he’d already chosen the winning team. Smug, I reached for my phone to message Mac to see if anyone else was hungry.