by Huss, JA
"He's baiting you," she says between clenched teeth, "because he wants you to screw up and forfeit the money. We got the contract, so as long as we fulfill it we get paid. But do you understand that he can dock us for things like being late?"
I shake my head.
"I'm only going to say this once. You work for us, you have a contract. You will be polite when you speak to him, he's your producer now. You will also be considerate of his time. Do you understand me?"
I nod like a kid and Elise hands the towel person a twenty-dollar bill and walks out.
I stare at the door as it whooshes closed and then look over to the attendant. She's a middle-aged woman in a tight uniform. "First time with the big shots?" she offers helpfully.
"Yeah."
"Yeah," she repeats as she pockets her tip in a crisp white apron. "Hope it's worth it."
I follow Elise out and find her taking deep breaths just outside the door. "OK, I get it. I'll shut up and do what I'm told."
She smiles. "Perfect. Now, please, use your talents for good, Rook. You're likable, he'll like you, just be nice. It's Ronin he hates, they've never been friendly, just tolerant." And before I can ask her about that she hooks her arm in mine and we walk back to the table like old friends.
Dinner is a boring nightmare from my perspective, but from Ronin, Antoine, and Elise's perspective, it goes swimmingly. Ronin gets me some kind of meat—duck, I think. He's too busy chatting with the suits to pay much attention to me. Duck is not really my thing, so I skip most of the main course and concentrate on being polite to Ford. Everyone leaves happy, my transgressions are forgiven, and it's not until Ronin gets into his side of the truck that I let out a deep breath. "That was no fun at all."
He gives me a long look, then puts the truck in gear and pulls out of the valet area. "I think you're going to be sorry for taking this contract, Rook, but there's nothing you can do right now. Even if you wanted out, they'd probably fine you."
"Fine me for what?"
"Breach, of course. You're stuck and just so you know, while we were all at dinner, those cameras went into your apartment. You're stuck for three months."
"Can't I just stay with you?"
"You don't get it, do you? You signed a contract, Rook. You agreed to be in the show and be the body painting model for Spencer. You also agreed to walk down the main drag at Sturgis with nothing on but a very small thong and what amounts to two band aids over your nipples. In addition, you will appear on stage naked in front of five thousand drunk bikers for the final show. So whether you like it or not, whether you want to do it or not—you're stuck. You signed up for this and they're gonna hold you to it."
I turn away and look out the window as we stop at the light in front of the baseball stadium. "I should've listened to you, right? That's what this is about. I should've taken your advice, let you make decisions for me."
He drives forward at the green light and then eases us into the parking garage under the studio. He pulls into his spot and turns the truck off and we sit in silence. "Well, yeah. I would've told you to do something else. Less money, but less exposure, too. But," he says, taking my hand, "I have more bad news. I have to drive up to Steamboat tomorrow to see Clare. She's causing a whole bunch of trouble apparently and she needs some support. She's got a couple months left in treatment and if she leaves now, she'll just go back to it and we might never get another chance to save her again."
"How long will you be gone?" My heart suddenly feels heavy. "I don't want you to go."
He gets out of the truck and comes over to my side and opens the door. "You'll be OK, Antoine will take care of you. Elise is coming with me, but Antoine has to stay, of course."
We walk slowly to the elevator. "OK," I say. Because it's not like I have a choice in this. He's leaving to help Clare and I'm stuck here working on a job I probably never needed and very much do not want to do. "Can't I stay with you one more night?"
I expect him to agree. I mean, how could he deny me that?
"No, Rook. You have to stay in your apartment, babe. You have to or they'll fine you for that too. And look, I know it's hard, but it's temporary. Once this is over you won't take another contract without a lawyer, OK?"
"Yeah," I say as the elevator doors open and drop us off on the fourth floor. He walks me out on the terrace and over to my garden apartment door and we stop. "I'm done signing contracts."
"Good, Gidge. Because even though you hate it, I really do know what's best for you right now." He leans down and kisses me, his hands lingering for just a moment on my hips, then pulls back. "I have to go pack, but I'll come by in the morning and say goodbye before I leave, OK?"
"OK."
"The cameras are in every room except the bathroom, but there's one outside the door—they wanted to be able to see you getting ready, I guess."
"Lovely."
"Just keep the door closed and you'll have privacy."
Great, so the only place in my tiny apartment where I can be alone is in my bathroom with that godawful claw-foot tub that I hate.
"You're gonna be OK?"
I sigh. "I'm sure I will, I mean, I'm not happy, but I'm gonna live, right?"
"No more contracts," he whispers as he kisses me again. "No more." I nod in agreement as he tears himself away and opens my door. "See ya in the morning, Gidge."
I give him a smile for being so helpful and concerned. "Later, Larue."
He laughs and walks back to the studio.
I go inside and find each and every camera. They are little mirrored dome things. I walk up to each one—three in the living room, one in the hallway outside the bathroom, and one just outside of the bedroom, pointing at my bed. I stick my tongue out at each one, then rearrange my bedroom furniture so that camera that thought it was gonna watch me sleep has a very limited view.
It might not give me total privacy, but at least that eyeball isn't beaming directly down on me anymore.
I change in the bathroom, then turn out the lights and lie in bed, totally creeped out.
Chapter Four - Ronin
Ford is waiting near the studio windows when I walk in, his back to me, his stick-up-his-ass posture as erect as ever. It's been years and still the sight of him makes me want to punch his face in.
"Where'd you find her?" he asks without turning around.
"She found me."
"What's wrong with her?"
"She's a nice girl, Ford. So stay back. She'll do her job, don't worry."
"I'm not worried. So, where are you off to?"
"Clare. She's in rehab up in Steamboat—"
"Again?"
"Shit, Ford. Way to be an asshole. Have a little sympathy."
"She's been broken for how long now, Ronin? Three years? More? Hell, maybe she was never right, did that ever occur to you?"
"This time's different. She just needs some support."
"Like all the other times?"
"OK, I'm done here. You hate her, she hates you—shit, I hate you. I'll see you when I get back. And don't bother Rook, she's not handling things well right now." I don't wait for an answer, I just walk over to the stairs and head to my apartment.
"Feels like old times, don't you think?" Ford calls out after me.
"No, Ford. It doesn't." Asshole.
When I get to the top of the stairs I can hear Elise and Antoine arguing in French. I head over and punch the code on the door. They hear the beeping and immediately stop the argument. When I walk in Elise is so angry her face is bright red.
"God, what? Seriously, Elise? Stop it!"
"What's going on, Ronin? If this is part of one of your jobs, leave us out of it!"
"It's not! Antoine, tell her. This whole project is legit! I had nothing to do with it. Do you really think I want to work with Ford and Spencer? Shit, you guys are the ones who wanted the fucking contract! I'm the one who said no! Now my fucking girlfriend's stuck in the middle, she's got no idea what I used to do, and the whole fucking thing is about to
blow up in my face! There's a lot of shit that really is happening, Elise, so I do not need you accusing me of shit that's not!"
She pours herself a shot from the bar and downs it, slamming the glass on the polished wood for emphasis. "If I find out the three of you are working again, I will turn you in. Do you understand? I will not risk everything we've built here for these stupid schemes you guys cook up!"
I take a deep breath because Elise is trippin' right now. She's got every right to be wary, pissed off, even. So I just try and remain calm so she'll get over it sooner. It's no use arguing with her, because she's right.
"And I'm not about to hang out here and watch," she says, looking at me. "I'm going up to Steamboat, so you assholes stay here and do your jobs." She looks over to Antoine. "I'll go save your niece."
She storms off and leaves us alone. Antoine wipes his face with his hands. "She's angry," he says in English. "She was not expecting Ford to be part of this deal."
"No, Antoine, she's pissed. I had no idea Ford was in on this shit either, Spencer never told me dick and he told Rook even less. And look, I love Clare just as much as you guys do, but I'm obligated to help Rook for this contract. I have to be here for her."
"Ronin, please. You're the only one Clare listens to. Give it a few days, that's all. Just a few days of your time to see that she's getting the care she needs and she's on her way back to us."
I sigh. How the hell can I say no to that? I mean, this guy—he picked Elise and me up after our lives fell apart. He's been there for me since I was ten years old. And even though I've never thought of him as a father, or even a brother for that matter, he's the closest thing I have to family aside from Elise.
"And keep an eye on Ellie for me. She's got her opinion on this job and she's not letting it go."
"Why, though? I mean, where'd she even get the idea?"
He sneers at me. "Please, Ronin. The last time the three of you were together I bailed you out of jail."
"Hey." I throw up my hands in an innocent gesture. "Those charges never stuck." And before I can stop it, before I can hold it together to prove that I'm not that guy anymore and Elise has nothing to worry about, I grin.
No.
I chuckle.
Antoine sneers again. "You better stop that right now, Ronin."
I grin wider. "You have to admit, it was perfect, wasn't it?"
And even though Elise would verbally castrate him if she was here and saw it, Antoine grins widely as well.
Because Spencer, Ford, and I got away with a whole load of shit back in college.
And if we wanted to, we could do it again.
Chapter Five - Rook
I wake up to Ronin's kiss.
"You came," I croak out in a sleepy voice.
"You doubted me? Rook, please. You should know me better by now. I'm reliable."
I open one eye and snort. "Maybe with most things, but not when it comes to Clare. Every time you ditch me it's for her."
"Not true. I never ditched you, I just have to take care of things. Antoine's been good to me, Clare is his niece, and all that aside, I like her. When she's not high and freaking out like a psycho, I like her. She's nice and she's funny. You'll like her too, Rook. Once she gets well again, I mean."
"Maybe," I say, but that declaration doesn't make me feel any better. In fact it makes me feel worse.
"Love what you've done with the place, by the way."
I open my eyes and remember the cameras. "Yeah, well, I'm good at getting by, right? I'm sure they can still see me over here in the corner, but at least it's not in full-on spy mode anymore." He kisses me again and then gets up. "You're leaving already?"
"Gotta go, sorry. Elise is already down in the garage waiting for me. I'll call you when we get there. Keep your phone on you, OK?"
I nod and then he's gone.
And I'm pretty sad about that. Even though I've been telling myself for months now that I'm number one, I don't need anyone, and settling back down is the worst possible option for me, I'm starting to have doubts.
Ronin is nice. He's more than nice, he's good. Not everyone is good, but these people are. I can feel it. Sure, Antoine is a jerk sometimes, and it pisses me off that he mostly speaks French and makes Ronin translate, but he's still been pretty cool. I should probably make an effort to learn some French, that way he could talk to me like he does Billy in a mixture of both languages, because it's obvious he only speaks English when he has to.
And even though Elise is a real hardass, she's nice too. She's firm when she has to be and gentle when she thinks I need it. I could do a lot worse in the world than these people, even if they make their money off erotic modeling. I'm one of them now anyway, right? I'm an erotic model. I haven't looked online, but Ronin did and he said those TRAGIC photos hit Japan a few days ago. That's where those TRAGIC people were from. The photos were for serial book covers and the first one with the cherry tree shoot is already for sale. There's ten in all and they are releasing the story in parts. Each week a few chapters go out with a picture of me on the cover. From Sweet to Tragic, that's the theme.
Hopefully the books flop and no one reads them and sees me on the covers, but with my luck I'm sure this author is the Japanese version of EL James. At least they are confined to Asia right now. Ronin said they have no immediate plans to distribute the books in the US, so, phew. Dodged a bullet there.
I laugh at this because it's ridiculous to be worried about my body on the cover of erotic romances in Asia making their way over here when I'm about to be photographed naked with thirty bikes. This will probably turn into full-page ads in major motorcycle magazines, maybe billboards around freaking Denver for Spencer's shop, not to mention the nude walk of shame down the Sturgis strip and the private performance to end the rally in August. And then I get the pleasure of reliving every moment in hi-def on the Biker Channel next spring.
I decide to let all this shit go. What can I do? The contract is signed, the painting starts tomorrow, this is my last day off for three months. I should go back to sleep and enjoy it.
I take my own advice and pull the covers back over my head.
No one pounds on my door today. No one calls on my new iPhone I bought with all my new money either. But it's only four PM, maybe Steamboat is a long drive? I grab my phone and bring up the Internet, then type in 'drive time from Denver to Steamboat'.
It says about four hours. He should've been there by lunch.
I drag myself up, then barely catch myself before undressing in front of the camera. I sneer up at my spies and grab some clothes and go in the bathroom to clean up and dress.
The studio is busy but not bustling too bad for a Monday. Usually it's crazy busy, but this STURGIS contract is taking up the whole summer, so I guess Antoine had to cut back on other stuff. I do catch a glimpse of Billy and he waves from across the room. I wave back. He's not as bad as I thought. Ronin and I went out with him and his on-again off-again girlfriend a few times. If you picture what kind of life a male model lives, Billy fits that stereotype perfectly.
Ronin is the complete opposite. He's not a big drinker, he doesn't do any drugs at all, but he does gamble a little at a place in the mountains called Black Hawk. That place is not far—I know because I've gone with him once. I'm not twenty-one, so pretty much all the fun stuff up there is off limits to me.
It sucks being underage when all your friends aren't.
Antoine and Spencer are chatting next to a bike on the far side of the studio and when Antoine sees me, he waves a hand, gesturing me to come over.
"Hey, Rook," Spencer says as I approach.
"Hey, what's up with you guys today?"
"This is our first bike, Rook," Antoine says. He points to the Shrike bike. It's not anything extraordinary, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with that information.
"Cool," is about all I can manage.
"We'll photograph this bike tomorrow, just the one," Spencer says. "So you and I can get used to each
other. It'll probably take me most of the day to get the artwork right, then Antoine will want to fuck with the photo gear, so just one bike tomorrow. But we're hoping we can do more than one for each session after that."
"Oh? Sounds like a lot of hours."
"It will be," Antoine says. "Long days, but Spencer's decided he can be more efficient with his projects, use the base paint and only change the colors on some, to get the catalog shots over with quickly."
"Yeah," Spence chimes in, "I need to get the fuck back to Fort Collins and work on the Raven on the weekends, so the sooner we can get these catalog shots done, the better it'll be. I have a lot of work to do still. Plus, I need to spend some time on the final design for your body. After painting you up for the catalog shots I'll be pretty familiar with it, so I can plan better."
"Uh-huh, sure. Sounds like a plan to me."
"So what we were thinking, Rook"—Antoine picks it up again—"is that we'll shoot for a week getting as many bikes down as we can, then take the weekends off while Spencer works up at his shop."
I shrug. "OK." I mean, really, like I have a choice? I'm the hired help. I'm a walking billboard sign.
I leave them there talking about bikes and stuff and hop down the stairs to get some food from Cookie's. I don't know why I continue to go over there, I have a ton of money and I could eat anywhere I want, but I like that place. And it reminds me of Ronin. I miss him already. I sigh as I press the button at the crosswalk that leads to the diner, then wait for the light to change before making my way across the street.
I enter the diner and the hostess is Cindy. She recognizes me and nods, so I take that as I'm a regular now and I can seat myself at the back booth that is reserved for Ronin's girls. God, how that bugged me when I first met him. Having to come in here and declare that I belonged to Ronin was humiliating, especially since all that stuff with Jon was so fresh.
I feel better about it now, plus I don't say that anymore. I don't have to. They know I belong to Ronin.