Live Love Rewind: The Three Lives of Leah Preston

by Glynn, Anne

  What I’m wearing now isn’t close to sensible. I can’t believe I agreed to come to class, dressed like this.

  She considered returning to her car and skipping the evening session. She couldn’t, though, without facing Astrid’s wrath. Besides, her friend had made her own commitment – “It involves a popular chain restaurant, mixed drinks and nudity” – and Leah had promised to take this next step.

  Didn’t pinky-swear, though, she told herself. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and entered the classroom. No one took any notice of her arrival.

  When Leah sat down, her left leg jingled.

  Astrid raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m still getting used to this, all right?” Leah said a little curtly.

  Grinning, Astrid collected her supplies before moving to Kendra McPherson’s work station. Just as they’d discussed earlier, Leah now had her table to herself.

  Ian carried the folding screen from around his model. The exquisite Serena was nude in front of them, recreating her pose. Her appearance made a mockery of Leah’s terrible sculpture.

  “Anyone needs help,” Ian said, “let me know.”

  Leah raised her hand.

  He raised an eyebrow in surprise. During each session, the teacher made this offer and, until this moment, Leah had ignored his invitation. She’d been embarrassed at the prospect of having her work closely inspected by someone who was so much more talented.

  As her classmates returned to their projects, he came over to her. “Yes?”

  She shifted her left leg. It jingled. Turning his head, Ian tried to locate the source of the sound.

  Pretending she hadn’t noticed the noise, Leah said, “My piece just isn’t coming together.”

  She moved her hands away from the project. Her clay Serena-beast was humped over, its body curled as if to protect itself from further abuse.

  Ian told her, “I can see the effort you’ve put into this.”

  “I’ve spent hours on it.” Totally true, she thought. Completely sad.

  “This is our model’s last night in this pose,” he told her. “While I rarely suggest abandoning a project, not if you’re still interested in finishing it, you need to remember your time here is limited. Not everything works out.”

  Leah crossed her ankles and her left leg jingled once more.

  The soft sound was teasingly close. Leaning over her, he said, “Did you hear something?”

  “You haven’t heard it before?” Leah asked. “My fault. Once I found this, I just had to wear it.”

  Discretely lifting a corner of her skirt, she showed him her leg. A long tan stocking ended in a pink and sexy garter belt. A tiny golden bell dangled from the belt.

  She wiggled her leg and the bell tinkled softly. He was still focused on her leg when she said, “Professor?”

  Caught staring, he focused on the clay in front of her. “I can make a few suggestions, if you’d like.”

  “Please.”

  “The proportion’s a bit skewed. The torso is too short, too rounded.”

  Leah reached for her cutting tool.

  “Blades are best in the early stages,” Ian said. “At this point, you want to use your hands. Your fingers.”

  “Can you show me?” Her skirt was still lifted, her leg and garter belt exposed.

  Concentrating intensely, he put his hands over her fingers and guided them to the sculpture. “Like this.”

  He brought her palms over the figure’s body, reshaping it. “It’s too curled, too short. It needs to be elongated.”

  Leah loved the strength in his hands, the feeling of being in his control.

  “Just keep –”

  “How firm should I hold it?” she asked.

  About to release her, he took hold again. “Like this.”

  “One hand or two?”

  “You can, um…whatever works for you. Smooth, steady strokes.”

  “You said I need to make it grow longer,” she told him. “How many strokes should I use?”

  “Several,” he said, his voice growing huskier. Hearing himself, he straightened abruptly.

  I guess you liked your little Tinkerbelle, she thought.

  “Why don’t we take five, people?” Ian told the other students. “Let’s give our model a break.”

  He wiped at his forehead, forgetting about the clay he’d touched. A line of gray water trailed across his skin. Examining his hands, he left the room.

  What did Sun Zu say in the book? Leah reflected.

  When you gain your lover’s interest,

  he will pretend you have not.

  Losing control of his desires,

  he will fight to master them.

  – Sun Zu, The Watcher

  Let’s hope Sun Zu knows what he’s talking about, Leah thought. If he’s right, then Professor Handsome should ignore me for the rest of the night.

  Astrid tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss Young-and-Lovely has her cover-all on. Ready for Part B?”

  Serena went out the side door while Leah washed her hands and collected her purse. Using the same exit, she found the model standing on a concrete pathway, smoking a cigarette.

  “Got a light?” Leah asked her.

  The model brought out a cheap, plastic lighter.

  “Uh, got a cigarette?”

  Serena reached into the oversized pocket on her gown. “I haven’t seen you out here before.”

  “I don’t smoke.” When the student appeared confused, Leah added, “I’m just trying to make conversation. I need a favor.”

  “If it’s money, for abused pets or the poor or whatever, there’s no chance. I’m cashed out.” Dropping the cigarette, Serena ground her sandal over it. “Unless it’s a posing job? I’ll do private poses, like at your studio or something, but I still get twenty an hour.”

  “Is that what Ian pays you?”

  “The college, yeah.”

  “So, for the two hours of our class, you make forty dollars.”

  Serena nodded.

  “What happens if you don’t show up?”

  “Don’t know,” she confessed. “Professor Parkins would probably be in trouble, though. He canceled a couple of classes during the Art Expo so he’s not allowed to drop any more. Since the class is called ‘Life Sculpture’, somebody has to pose.”

  “That’s what I think, too.”

  Selena’s face lit up. “Hey, I guess the Prof could go starkers. That’s what they call it in Britain, right, when you’re in the buff? I’ll bet he looks good for an older guy.”

  I’ll bet he does, too, Leah thought. “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you’ll skip the next class.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  She handed her a small roll of bills. “But you have to cancel tonight, right after class. Give Ian some excuse but don’t tell him I talked to you.”

  “I don’t like leaving him hanging.”

  “He’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Smiling broadly, the model tucked the money into her gown’s pocket.

  Once Serena returned to her spot at the front of the room, Ian avoided the front tables. He busied himself with little chores. He drifted to the doorway, repositioned the clock that hung from the side wall, and spoke with a few of the other students.

  Just as Sun Zu had promised, it was as if Leah had suddenly turned invisible.

  “Good luck,” Astrid said, packing up her things at the end of the hour. Leah used the newly-positioned wall clock to watch a few minutes tick by before walking over to the teachers’ offices.

  Dressed in jeans and a drop-waist tunic, Serena was at the end of the hallway. She stepped out of an open doorway. “Sorry, Professor.”

  Ian responded from inside the room, his sexy, accented voice muffled behind the walls.

  “Nope, can’t think of anybody,” Serena responded. “Maybe you can fill in.”

  Turning, she giggled. Passing Leah as she left, she gave her a wink.

  “Damn i
t,” Ian growled softly, his head bent as Leah entered the office.

  “Professor Parkins?” she said. “Ian?”

  He looked up. “Miss Preston.”

  “Call me Leah.”

  “Leah,” he agreed. “Can I help you?”

  “You already did,” she said. She sat on the chair across from him and, without any encouragement on her part, the bell on her garter belt jingled. “My sculpture still isn’t ready for the North County Art Show but at least it’s presentable.”

  “Don’t be harsh on yourself. You’re just beginning.”

  “Not so much.”

  “No?” Her admission surprised him. “It’s not important, as long as you enjoy trying, don’t you think?”

  The scowl on his face faded. His dark eyes brightened and his jaw softened, allowing his mouth to relax.

  Sitting in his office, I feel like I’m in high school, Leah realized. Talking to Mr. Hobbs, the poetry teacher all of the girls wanted to kiss.

  I want to do much more than just kiss Ian Parkins.

  “Is something the matter?” she asked. “When I came in, you sounded upset.”

  “It’s our model, Serena. She’s had to cancel out on our next class, some kind of family thing.” He spread his hands apart. “I’m not sure what to do. I simply can’t find a replacement in time.”

  “I could pose,” Leah said. The words came easily but why not? She’d been practicing them in her head for the last thirty minutes.

  He considered her offer for a few seconds then shook his head. “It’s not as easy a job as you might think. Holding one position for any length of time is a challenge. Besides, we’re doing Life Sculpture. The models can’t wear clothing.”

  “Okay.” She rose from the chair and swiveled, remembering to give the tiniest shake.

  Jingle.

  At the doorway, she said, “It’s not as if I haven’t done it before.” I am such a liar. “I posed for Kent Johnson’s Life Drawing class three years ago.”

  “You posed for Johnson?”

  Good old Kent Johnson, Leah thought. White-haired but ready for adventure. Eager to travel the world.

  The last time anyone heard from him, he was in Cambodia. I wonder where he is now?

  Peru, perhaps? Indonesia? Some distant land without good cell service, anyway, according to Kendra McPherson.

  “Ask him yourself,” she said. “He told me I was excellent.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “If you need me, I charge twenty dollars an hour.”

  She was halfway to the parking lot before Ian caught up with her.

  “Wait, wait,” he called. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  Your lover has noticed you but

  he has not yet seen you. Tease him

  with your beauty, entice him with

  your sensuality, but offer him nothing more.

  – Sun Zu, The Watcher

  She didn’t know if she had the courage to do this.

  Suck it up, Leah told herself. You wait until you’re in the classroom, everyone has taken their seats, all eyes are focused on the model’s folding screen, and now you wonder if you’re ready to go bare-ass in front of the world?

  Actually, this was far from the first time she’d wondered about this next step.

  “About the next chapter,” she’d told Astrid, the night before. “The whole Watcher thing.”

  “I love what you’re doing,” Astrid said. “It’s so clever.”

  “That’s a nice way of looking at it.”

  “Do not even think about backing out,” her friend insisted. “Don’t pretend you’re sick, or you have a better idea, none of that crap. I’ll know the truth.”

  “But….”

  “Your plan is brilliant. Life models have to do it in the nude. I think I saw that line on a bumper sticker somewhere.”

  “Did you ever try the Watcher part? With Josh?”

  “I followed the book to the letter. It’s your turn now.”

  You’d so better be worth this, Ian Parkins.

  His back to the screen she could hear him as he talked to her classmates. “Serena should return by next session. Until then, one of our own has agreed to act as her stand-in.”

  While he was distracted, she shifted the mirror resting behind her. Once she moved it a little more to the left, it would be exactly where she needed it.

  “Are you ready?” Ian asked her from behind the screen.

  “Almost.”

  He returned to his desk. Peeking at the angled mirror, she saw him take his chair. If he glanced in her direction, he’d see her reflection in the mirror. Knowing this, Ian was making a concerted effort to keep his eyes averted.

  Removing her blouse, Leah felt the room’s air conditioning brush over her exposed breasts. If she’d worn a bra, it would have left lines across her back. She unsnapped her pencil skirt and let it slide to the floor. Balanced on her high heels, Leah firmed her resolve.

  Show time!

  Taking her garter belt, she unhooked a three set of gold bells. She dropped them to the floor and they jingled musically.

  Ian reacted to the sound, his head following the noise. His eyes found the mirror and, in it, Leah’s image. Dressed only in stockings, a garter belt, and the sexiest pumps she could stand upright in, she acted as if she was unaware of his gaze.

  Slowly, seductively, she reached down to collect the bells. Once she had their strings laced between her fingers, she removed the rest of her clothing. Pretending to be unaware of his attention, she faced the screen.

  Softly, she said, “I’m ready.”

  Professor Parkins remained at his desk, unmoving.

  “I’m ready for you, Ian,” she repeated.

  Slowly, he stood up. He held himself awkwardly, trying to hide his erection. Clutching an Art History textbook, he covered the view before folding the screen closed.

  Glasses on, glasses off? Leah wondered. Her legs crossed, she faced her classmates. They stared at her, surprised to see one of their own as the model.

  If I remove my glasses, everything will blur out nicely, Leah reflected. I won’t see the silly smirk on Astrid’s face. I won’t see the look on Derek Boswell’s face, either.

  Early this semester, Derek didn’t seem to realize I was part of this class. Last week, once I started dressing for Ian’s attention, I caught his as well. Not in a good way.

  Now he appears stunned to discover I have the usual female bits and pieces. If he doesn’t close his mouth, he’ll drool all over his table.

  She decided to leave the eyeglasses on. If everyone was going to watch her, she’d watch them, too.

  Timidity hadn’t brought her happiness. It was time to be bold.

  It probably wouldn’t look very professional if I covered my breasts with my hands, she thought. But it’s cold in here. Now I know why Serena’s girls were always pointing out in greeting.

  Behind her, Ian told the students, “If, um, anyone needs...uh, anyone....”

  She looked at him. The professor kept the Art History book locked between his fingers, solidly covering his crotch.

  He avoided her eyes.

  “So,” he said to the others. “Let me know. If. Help is needed.”

  Thank you, Sun Zu.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary Ellen said, “I need a change.”

  “What kind of change?”

  “I’m thinking of getting my hair permed.”

  “Remember the last time? It made your face look like a balloon.”

  “That was a hundred years ago. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Leah said into the cell phone.

  “I’d like to come see you. If this is a good time for a visitor.”

  “The weather’s all sticky this time of year. Last time you were here, you said you’d never return.”

  “Things have changed.”

  She knew that tone of voice. “What’s changed?”

&
nbsp; “Ted has changed. Ted Cushing, the rancher?”

  “Fantasy man.”

  “He came to Wednesday night services,” Mary Ellen said, “totally out of the blue. I’d have called that night but you were in your class –”

  You were in church, Leah thought, and I was in my birthday suit. Much to the amazement of Mister Derek Boswell, who asked me out the microsecond after class ended.

  I’d never seen him act like that, all warm and desperately friendly. On him, it didn’t seem natural.

  Ian heard him ask for a date. He also heard me say ‘no’.

  “– so he sits in my pew and, before the main sermon, he strikes up a conversation. He talks about line dancing, he chats about genealogy. He touches my shoulder lightly, he leans in close, and I’m positive he’s about to take the conversation in a personal direction. Suddenly, Apple Baugh joins us.”

  “Her first name is Apple?”

  “Like the fruit,” Mary Ellen said flatly. “If I was her mother, I’d have named her Cumtwat.”

  Leah laughed.

  “She’s had more boyfriends than I have sets of underwear. Changes them about as often, too.”

  “Tell me all.”

  The fire went out of Mary Ellen’s voice. “Long black hair, wide blue eyes, and she dresses like the word ‘budget’ doesn’t exist. In her universe, maybe it doesn’t. Plus, she’s almost ten years younger than me. At least thirty pounds lighter.”

  “Not fair.”

  “What’s not fair is the full-on press she gave Ted.”

  “Mary Ellen.”

  “I can’t compete with her,” she said. “I need a place to hide and lick my wounds. Somewhere with lots of wine and plenty of tissues.”

  “Is Apple interested in genealogy?” Leah asked.

  “You think Ted cares? Old ancestors can’t compete with youthful, skinny and siliconed.”

  “Sun Zu would disagree.” She’d read his words the night before. Beauty fades. The art of seduction flows from the mind.

  “Is this Sun Zu single?”

  “Don’t buy an airline ticket just yet. I might have an idea or two.”

  “It’s too late for the idea stage,” Mary Ellen said unhappily. “I need to spend some serious personal time with my best friend, a roll of refrigerated cookie dough, and a few glasses of wine. A case of wine.”