Olivia (13 page)

“
No, but I got a new photographer.
Jon and I set up some lighting at home, and he took these for
me.”

“
Outstanding, Jon,” he says. “Are
these colors true?”

“
Yeah,” Jon assures him. “We had
multiple prints done to get it right.”

“
Perfect, I’m glad you can
appreciate the importance of depicting her art as true-to-form as
possible.”

“
I want her work to shine,” Jon
says, “just like she does.” I blush at his compliment.

“
She is radiant, isn’t she?” my
agent agrees. This makes me a little uncomfortable.

“
She is,” Jon says evenly, glaring
across the table as Abram keeps his nose in my portfolio. I squeeze
my boyfriend’s knee under the table, and he puts his hand on top of
mine, holding it gently in his.

“
Miss Holland,” he starts. Jon’s
grip gets a little tighter, and I start to laugh a little at his
response. “Have you given any more thought to selling your work
yet?”

“
I have. I spoke with my dad, and
I’m ready. I think he has some figures in mind, what he’d like to
get for them... but I think that’s something you two should discuss
next time we meet.”

“
I’ll schedule something this week.
I want to have a show very soon.”

“
Do I have enough work for a
gallery event?”

“
More than enough. That’s why we
need to sell some of them. You know,” he says cautiously, “we’ll
get more for them if we put your name on them.”

“
I’m not looking to make money off
of my name, Abram,” I tell him for the twentieth time. Sometimes I
think he took me on as a client simply because of who I am and not
because of what I do, but I’m confident my art will sell on its
own. “Olivia Choisie. That’s the name I’m using for
this.”

“
Well, what if you meet your
buyers? You aren’t an unknown here, darling.”

“
Well, by the time she meets them,”
Jon interjects, “I gather they will have already agreed to purchase
one of her paintings. And that will mean they’re buying her art
for
the art.”

Abram looks at Jon as if he shouldn’t have a say in
the matter, but he concedes, knowing that my boyfriend’s opinion
means almost as much to me as my father’s. They both have my best
interest at heart.

“
If you’re sure.” He directs his
response to me.

“
I’m sure, and my parents back me
one-hundred percent... so please don’t try to get them to change my
mind again. They won’t.”

“
I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss
Holland. I overstepped my boundaries last time.”

“
Okay, then,” I tell him with a
satisfied smirk as the waitstaff sets our orders down at the table.
“And you can keep that book; I had a duplicate made just for
you.”

Abram smiles and thanks me, setting it on the empty
chair across from me.

“
She is radiant,
isn’t she?
” Jon says in a mock-British accent as we wait for
my car to be brought around. Abram had taken a cab, so he was
already gone. I slap Jon’s chest and snicker.

“
What, I’m not?” I argue
playfully.

“
Oh, you most certainly are,” he
answers, his voice low and scratchy and sexy. “I’ll never forget
how you looked that night in Greece.” He stands behind me and wraps
his arms around my back, kissing my neck. I duck my head
instinctively, shielding my blushing face with my long hair, just
in case anyone of note might be watching. I’m pretty sure I would
be in trouble if my dad saw a picture of us like this, so I keep a
low profile as much as possible, trying not to draw any unnecessary
attention to my family. We’d seen enough this past
summer.

In fact, after all the pictures of me had been
leaked, Dad had put out a personal plea to the media, asking
photographers and journalists to leave me and my brother alone.
He’d given multiple press conferences, just to minimize the
curiosity about our family at a time when we wanted nothing but
privacy.

Normally, Jon wasn’t this hands-on in such a public
setting, but the week apart was brutal on both of us. During the
summer, we spent three days together every week, and saw each other
for at least an hour or two most evenings. My dad has repeatedly
voiced his concern about how much we saw each other, but he
definitely likes to see me happy... and he knows, above all, that
Jon makes me happy.

“
I’m tempted to turn our phones
off,” Jon tells me as he shuts the door to the loft after
dinner.

“
You know I can’t do that. It’s
still early. My parents could still call.”

“
You should call them.”

“
No,” I laugh. “There are lots of
things I want to do. Calling Mom and Dad is not one of
them.”

He smiles, walking over to me slowly. He wastes no
time, pressing his lips hard against mine. I tuck my hands under
his shirt, feeling his warm, smooth skin. He stills me abruptly,
giving me a funny look. “You’d rather that they interrupt
this?”

“
Well, when you put it that
way...”

“
I’m going to get comfortable,” Jon
tells me, taking off his tie and throwing it on the floor with
purpose. I laugh a little on the way to my purse, heeding his
advice and preemptively calling my parents.

“
Hey, Mom. What are you guys
doing?” I close my eyes, imagining myself at my friend’s house
instead of in the loft, alone, with Jon. It’s easier for me to
sound casual, especially when my nerves are starting to get the
best of me.

“
We were just putting your brother
to bed. Everything okay?”

“
Yeah, I guess. My head’s kind of
hurting, so Camille gave me some aspirin. I was going to go to bed.
I just wanted to call you before I fell asleep.”

“
Is it bad? We can come home,” Mom
says.

“
No, it’s fine. Just a little
headache. I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about
anything, in fact. Just enjoy your little weekend getaway. You
earned it.”

“
Did you make it through the day
okay?”

“
Yeah, I’m okay. Did
you?”

“
I did. I was completely surprised
when your dad picked me up at the Art Room, and he’s kept us all
busy all day. Your poor brother fell asleep at dinner,” she
laughs.

“
Good. I hope you were able to
leave some of your stress behind.”

“
I definitely did, Livvy. I needed
this.”

“
I know. Mom, I don’t know how you
do it,” I tell her honestly. She spends about ten hours a day at
the foundation, then comes home to do her own work or sleep. Dad
had become the sole parent over the summer. He’d done a great job,
but we all missed Mom around the house. It was Dad’s intention to
talk her into finding someone else to take over for Granna this
weekend. I think he had someone in mind; I’d overheard a phone
conversation.

“
I just don’t want things to fall
apart,” she responds.

“
I know. I know she’d be so proud
of you.”

“
I hope so, sweetie. Listen, go get
some sleep. If you need us to come home early tomorrow, just call
us. We’ve got plans to go to some local markets, but it’s nothing
we can’t put off until next time.”

“
Okay, but I know I’ll be fine.
Probably just the change in the weather,” I reason with
her.

“
All right.”

“
Tell Dad and Trey I said good
night.”

“
I will. See you tomorrow.” I hang
up and turn the ringer off, slipping the phone into my purse. I
find my suitcase and pull out the clothes I’d picked out for
tonight. I know he’s expecting the yellow satin slip I’d worn our
first night together, but I want to surprise him with something
else. I quickly hide the outfit behind my back when he comes out of
the bathroom. I smile at his cotton, pin-striped pants and make
note of the black sleeveless undershirt.

“
Wow,” I sigh, excited. “I’ll
hurry.” He stops me on my way for a slow kiss. His hand eases
behind my back and touches my clothes.

“
What’s this?” he murmurs, his lips
on mine. As he tries to peer over my shoulder, I hide the clothes
under my dress shirt and run to the bathroom. I hurry, just like I
told him I would, mainly because I can’t wait to see him again–and
I can’t wait for him to see me.

The only piece of clothing I’d ever bought that cost
more than this lingerie set was my prom dress last year. I’d been
pulling out a little cash every week, setting it aside for this
purchase. The short night gown has horizontal stripes of
alternating fine, black, netted lace ruffles and nude-colored,
hand-cut lace. It’s barely see-through. As if that wasn’t enough,
the matching ruffled panties tie in bows at my hips. Even
I
think it’s sexy.

When I bought it, I had hoped it would give me the
confidence I’d need to get through tonight.

I fidget with my hair, pushing it behind my
shoulders, and pulling it back in front of them, trying to figure
out how I like it best. I realize it doesn’t matter, because in
just a few minutes, it will be a mess anyway.

I’d brought high-heels to wear with this, but it
feels silly to wear shoes with night clothes. I quietly escape the
bathroom unnoticed, padding across the hardwood floors softly with
my bare feet. Jon’s looking out the window.

“
You’re supposed to be admiring the
other
view,” I tell him, referring to the
Mykonos posters. He turns around and stops moving the second he
sees me. His jaw actually drops, and I laugh at his reaction,
pointing to the large print now behind him. “That one.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ll admire this one,” he
says after clearing his throat.

“
The lace is really soft,” I tell
him, inviting him to come closer.

He wastes no time, crossing the room, his eyes
scanning me from head to foot. “I don’t know where to begin,” he
says quietly with a slight laugh. He finally chooses to rest his
hands on my hips, taking the ruffled material between his fingers.
“It
is
soft.” He moves his hands to touch
more of the fabric, as if different sections might feel
differently. He tucks his fingers beneath the delicate satin
spaghetti straps that hold the slip on my body. He finally looks in
my eyes.

“
Do you know how sexy you look
right now?”

“
Kind of,” I tell him. “That was
the point.”

“
Let me just take this in for a
second,” he says as he takes a step away from me.

“
You’re supposed to move closer to
me, not farther away.”

“
Give me a second,” he laughs,
ogling me and putting his fingers through his hair. He asks me to
turn around, and I do quickly, not wanting to miss a single
expression. The way he’s getting turned on is making me feel the
same. I start to relax a little, just being in his presence. He
does
calm me. He
will
take care of me.

Growing impatient, I taunt him. “Take a picture,
it’ll last longer.” I start to walk in his direction, tired of the
distance between us.

“
Can I?” he asks.

“
Can you what?” I realize his
question immediately. “No! It’s just an expression.”

“
Please, Olivia, let me take a
picture. Just one. Give me one shot to capture this beauty forever.
Please?”

“
Jon,” I half-whine. “You can see
this anytime.”

“
No, I can’t,” he argues. “I’m at
school, you’re with your parents... if I could see that anytime, we
wouldn’t have waited two and a half months for
this
. This is literally the first opportunity we’ve
had to make this right. Please, Livvy. I’ll guard it with my life.
Just one picture.”

I shake my head. It’s not that I don’t want him to
have a souvenir of this night. I really just want him to stop
putting off what we’ve had to put off all summer. I take his hands
in mine and put them at the top of my thighs. His fingers move
slowly up my legs, beneath the lace garment, until they discover
the strings tied in bows on either of my hips.

“
What in the hell are you wearing?”
he asks in surprise, his eyes bright. He pulls up one side of the
slip to reveal the panties. “I have to, Liv. Please. One quick
picture because I honestly can’t believe you’re wearing this. For
me.”

“
I was hoping to
not
be wearing this for you, too.”

“
I swear, you won’t have to. Just
give me two minutes.”

“
Okay, hurry,” I tell him, slightly
annoyed, but more flattered. He takes my hand and leads me across
the room to where some studio lighting is. He turns on a few lamps
and adjusts some of the filters, then positions me in front of the
plain, white backdrop. After he pulls out his phone, I shake my
head and walk away quickly, grabbing my good camera from the closet
and giving it to him. He holds the viewfinder to his eye. “You have
one shot,” I remind him. “Make it count.”

“
Shhh...” he says, walking around
in front of me, searching for the right spot. “Okay, right there.”
He points at a spot on the floor, and I take a few steps over to
that area. “Angle your body to that wall. Good. Now can you lift
the bottom of your... um, shirt? No, on the side. I want to see the
bow on your hip. Can you pull the string? Like you’re going to
untie it?” Knowing it will speed up the progress, I do as he asks,
but feel stupid doing it. “Perfect.”