Unbind (56 page)

“Jesus,” he exclaimed.

“Kay called and said she wouldn’t tell, but I neither confirmed or denied anything,” I giggled and kissed his cheek. “Though none of it would be anything without your shots. You’re so talented, you know that don’t you?”

“I know I love photography. I know it makes me happy and I know I’m good at it. I also realise there’s something to be said for keeping a piece of yourself back… a tactic that takes you far, if timed right?”

I pulled back and snaked my hands tighter around his neck. Smiling I decided, “You don’t feel ready for the fame yet? If you do a proper exhibition… it could take you to the stratosphere? Just because of who
she
is.”

He nodded. “I can wait. When the time’s right, I’ll know it. Now, this is your time. So let’s celebrate.”

He kissed me hard and lifted us both out of the chair.

“What do you have in mind?”

He looked all pleased with himself and wiggled his brow. “The bedroom. Maybe the desk after that. I might even give the borrowed chaise a testing… what do you think?”

“A think it looked pretty freaking wobbly to me and needs testing right now.”

THE MOST BIZARRE thing happened next. I arrived at work the day after ‘Mind Over Body’ went to press, only to be told by Carl that Tiff had cancelled my appointments and I was to meet Jennifer at a car downstairs, ten a.m., prompt. Jennifer then took me to the most exclusive spa in New York—her hallowed spa. I didn’t know where the place was—I had to be blindfolded in the car until we reached an underground parking facility! Once inside, I realised she had the whole place booked out, just for us. Was this usual? Or just for me? To be honest, I allowed all this because I was desperate to see if I couldn’t push her just a little bit harder.

“You can’t be serious?” I whispered to her as we headed for the changing rooms, the spa in the style of a traditional Turkish baths. I noticed every surface appeared tiled, some incense drifted, subtle lighting absorbed us and a pleasant heat wrapped around me as soon as we stepped inside.

“Well, if we want to talk privately about you know what… and anyway, I always attend singularly. I don’t need any busybodies ruining my spa time. I rarely get time like this, you know, to really kick back.”

When I first met Jennifer, she had that cockney accent. Hers was a bit like my accent—the Barnsley came out more when I was at home—I unconsciously adjusted my mouth when in America to convert myself to the different lingo. Then I remembered… none of what she portrayed was real!

We entered two cubicles side by side and I gawped. You could not only swing a cat in my changing room, but there was a locker in there and a sink, a mirror and a whole shelf of goodies for me to help myself to.

“I usually have a facial and a mani-pedi but you can choose what you like from the list. It’s on me and after being pampered, we can have a spot of lunch. I like to just roam and relax the afternoon away after that.”

“We’re here the whole day?”

“Oh yes, and don’t worry, I cleared it with Carl.”

I slipped my bikini on and a robe over that. “Oh, great.”

I heard the door click open on her side and she asked, “Ready?”

I emerged
ready
for whatever and spotted her stylish turban, protecting her hair from the moist atmosphere. I acknowledged it and asked, “Do they have a salon here? It’s just, well, I’ve been putting off the whole haircut thing.”

“They do, dear.” She winked. “The staff here have all signed NDAs, too, and it covers not just me but my guests as well.”

“Yeah? Just a quick trim, mind. I don’t need the works.”

She surveyed my hair as we walked toward the treatment rooms and remarked, “You haven’t been in all the time you’ve been in New York?”

“Nope. I’ve been putting it off. Now after the article, I might have to be even more careful!”

“Shucks! Of course!” She winked.

You called me fat.
I was still sore about that!

WE enjoyed facials in silence while we relaxed. I nearly fell asleep and so did Jennifer, if I wasn’t mistaken about the sound of her light snoring. While she had her nails done, I went to another room for a full body massage. It did me the world of good and was welcome—Cai was an exhausting force of nature, sometimes. His boxing didn’t ever tire him—just gave him more energy. I’d been once to the gym he attended but he always went early morning—and I liked to sleep, not rise at 5.30a.m. just to make the gym for six.

Jennifer and I caught up over lunch and she showed me her French tips—immaculately done. We didn’t eat. We drank. Everything was pureed in that place, surprise, surprise. Cai did a lot of shakes at home and I nearly always refused one, but after tasting the spa ones, I was actually won over. The waitress handed us some recipe cards to take away.

As we sipped our concoctions, I told Jennifer, “The facial has made you a new woman.”

“Hmm, it’s good isn’t it? I wish it was enough but even though I hate the botox, I still need it.”

“You don’t need it,” I shook my head, looking into her deep-blue eyes the same as Cai’s.

“If I didn’t do it, people would ask questions.”

“Ah, the world we operate in.”

“Yes, exactly. I’m surprised you haven’t started yet!”

I laughed it off, slightly bristled. I knew my skin was good even for a woman approaching 31. Through the window outside, I vaguely got the feeling we were somewhere on Fifth Avenue. I doubted I’d ever get the address of the place.

“The girls do make comments, sometimes… you know. Like they think I don’t take my appearance seriously. To be honest, I do… it’s just that Cai doesn’t allow me the time to spend hours putting cream on.”

She held her hand up. “Way too much info.”

“He’s the only person’s opinion I really care about.”

“That’s sweet, dear,” she said, sipping her shake, “but it’ll get you nowhere in this world.”

I beg to differ
…
after that article.
I wondered whether she wanted a reaction and whether there was no thought to her words at all.

Change the subject…

“Why doesn’t Cai showcase his work? Not the kiddie art he has in his Brooklyn place… but the other stuff he does, like the shoot we did. Why do you think that is?”

There was something at the root of this…

“What other stuff? He’s done other artistic work, you mean?” She narrowed her eyes on me.

“Hmm. He showed me some other images but he doesn’t want to make a big deal of it. It’s all on a par, if not better than the shoot.”

“Oh, well. I’ve no idea why he doesn’t want to show off more of his talent. Seems strange, but then Cai has always been strange, hasn’t he?”

Don’t piss me off, love
. After everything he and I had been through, I wouldn’t have that from her anymore. However, I still wanted answers…

“Strange, how?” I bit down on my tongue, waiting for her to elaborate.

“He never finished his studies… so how might he earn respect from his peers? How might he garner their attention if he doesn’t have a college degree or any kind of evidence of study? You know, he was always getting drunk and brawling in varsity bars… they eventually threw him out of college. I gave him some photography work anyway and it seemed to calm him down a bit, being able to work and have his own money. Then he took to fighting again and well, it just became something I had to accept. Well, anyway, I tried to do right by him but like I always said, I don’t know the extent of the madness that went on up at
Sub Rosa.
I just know he was marked, in some way. Over the years I sometimes feared for his sanity… he is her son after all, and he did witness some things take place in that house… I do still keep a beady eye on him.”

“You keep your beady on him? What does that mean?” I laughed in a joking fashion. This was bizarre… to think this woman was actually Claudia, deep down. I still needed evidence of that for my eyes, for myself, to really engage in this mystery.

“Oh, I keep an eye on all my interests, dear.”

“I suppose you have to,” I agreed. He was an asset to
Frame
, after all.

“Has he asked you to marry him yet?” She caught the confused expression on my face. “No? Well, doesn’t surprise me.”

“I don’t need a ring to know how he feels about me… he shows me every day. Besides, I know we will… it is just a matter of time.”

She took the last slurp of her drink and scrubbed her hands on a napkin. “You and I are the same, Chloe. Trust me, I only have his best interests at heart. He’s so much like
her
, it often frightens me… but if you say he’s done some great work, I believe you. I just think Cai knows as well as I do, he’s not ready for a launch or an exhibition of any veritable scale. He is only 25 after all. That is very young for a photographic artist. Most spend decades building up their portfolio before doing a proper out-and-out showcase.”

My mind raced with thoughts. Cai put together the ‘Mind Over Body’ shoot idea within days so why couldn’t he collate a launch collection? I’d seen his archive at the studio and it was full of slides, brimming with them in fact. We often spent Saturday evenings discussing the pictures he’d taken—a box of popcorn between us and the projector powered up.

After that, Jennifer went to swim, steam and pummel herself in the facilities while I went to the salon and decided it was time for a change.

“HI sexy,” I called as I walked in the door to find him sat on the sofa, some papers spread around him. I ploughed on to the kitchen to deposit some wine and cake I’d picked up. Oh god, the cake you could pick up from any corner… do I even need to describe how good it was?

“Whoa, what do we have here?” He followed me into the kitchen, helping me off with my coat. I placed my catch in the refrigerator while he stood watching, eyeing up the new do.

“Turn,” he asked.

So I did. I couldn’t help feeling amused by his wry smile, his inquisitive gaze, his eagerness to become acquainted with a different me.

“I really like it!” he shouted, his hand rubbing the stubble under his chin.

What I’d had done was a little different but I really liked it, too. My hair became wavier the shorter it got and I’d had it cut to my neck. A side-parting made the front dramatic and layers made it seem even thicker.

“The stylist put a few tiny hair extensions in so you can’t see what doesn’t grow. You really like it?”

“Not to sound like a chick but I really fucking love it! It suits you. You look like a cross between a very early Marilyn or Madonna circa
Vogue
.”

I touched my hair proudly. “I feel really good! I put off getting it done for ages because of the scar but Jennifer’s spa was really great and the salon girls promised… oh did they promise, so long as I went back and let them do my hair again!”

He moved closer and took my hair in both hands, a wild look in his eye. “You’re… I can’t tell you,” he said biting his lip, “I just know we need to test this right here.”

He closed his mouth over mine and soon I was being lowered to the floor, his hands stroking non-stop through my hair.