Until We Collide

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  Alec, it’s Paige. I hope this won’t wake you. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for the way we left things when I last saw you. I should have been supportive of your venture and plans, but I was selfish, only thinking how they would affect me. It was a great and exciting opportunity for you and I only hope that it’s all working out just as you’d hoped. I also owe you my undying gratitude for helping me get into this industry. I’m simply loving it and Jean-Claude has been an amazing mentor and friend. I’d never have done it without your faith in me, so thank you from the bottom of my heart. I owe you so much more than thanks for everything you’ve done for me, including renting your home, which I promise Poppie and I are taking excellent care of. Wishing you every success, Paige

  I stared at the screen for a while, wondering if I should put a kiss at the end, but I decided against it. What was the point, he was there and I was here, there was an ocean between us, and we were obviously looking for different things right now. I pressed send and tucked it back in my bag before heading over to the green screen set, where I shrugged off my dressing gown and went to cosy up to muscular perfection Dom, who was wearing the tiniest swimming trunks I’d ever seen. Life was good. And tonight I’d be having amazing sex. Maybe I’d set my expectations too high. Great sex. In fact, right now I’d be happy with just plain old boring sex, it had been that long.

  The Next Day

  Poppie drove Fi-Fi to the shoot for me, giggling all the way there, while all I could do was roll my eyes and sigh.

  ‘Please take care of Fi-Fi, no speeding,’ I warned when she pulled up outside the studio.

  ‘I do know how to drive, it’s not my first time, thank you very much. Wind your neck in,’ she winked.

  ‘Very funny,’ I muttered, awkwardly getting out of the car.

  ‘Good thing you’re not a porn star, all of that thrusting would be a real pain in the neck today.’ She burst out laughing when I bent down to give her my best unimpressed scowl. ‘You’ll see the funny side later.’

  ‘I really doubt that,’ I replied. I headed inside, straight to hair and makeup, to find Jean-Claude leaning back on the long dressing room countertop, while Dom sat having his hair styled.

  ‘Mon Dieu!’ he exclaimed, quickly standing up when he saw me. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’d rather not discuss it, if you don’t mind,’ I replied, putting down my bag and gingerly sitting on one of the barbershop-style chairs.

  ‘Can you work?’ he frowned, walking over to place a reassuring and concerned hand on my shoulder.

  ‘I’m not letting anyone down. I’ll do my best, but I was warned to keep this on as much as possible for twenty-four hours, so if you don’t mind me bringing it on set and just taking it off when Daryl’s ready to shoot, that would be great.’

  ‘Can I get you anything?’

  ‘I’d love a strong coffee. I was at A&E for five hours last night, I’ve barely slept. A mountain of concealer is going to be needed for these bad boys.’ I pulled a pouting face as I pointed to the bags under my eyes.

  ‘Here, take these,’ Dom offered, heading over with two teaspoons.

  ‘You want me to make you a coffee?’ I asked, twisting around to face him.

  ‘No,’ he laughed. ‘I carry a set with me on every shoot and put them in the fridge. They’re great for reducing puffy eyes if I’ve had a late night. So, bad neck, huh?’

  ‘How on earth did you guess?’ I mocked with a roll of my eyes, making Jean-Claude laugh. The thick, soft, and squishy beige neck collar was a dead giveaway.

  ‘I bet I can guess what happened to you first time,’ Dom smirked.

  ‘I bet you can’t,’ I replied.

  ‘Care to lay a wager on that?’

  ‘Game on. I’m so confident you won’t guess that I’ll bet £100.’

  ‘I’m in, I’m in,’ Jean-Claude clapped. ‘I can guess, too.’

  ‘Ok,’ I smirked, seeing an easy way to win some money here. ‘Answers to be written on a piece of paper. If you’re both wrong, I get £100 off each of you.’

  ‘And if we’re right, you pay us £100 each,’ Dom nodded. ‘Trace, grab some paper and a pen and get Paige a cup of coffee, will you,’ he called over his shoulder to his assistant. I wondered if I’d ever be that big in the modelling world that I’d need an assistant. Dom reclined my chair and stood behind me, holding the spoons over my eyes as we waited, while Jean-Claude headed off to speak to Daryl, the photographer, to warn him of my predicament.

  ‘Ok, ok, let’s do this,’ he announced when he returned. I sat up as the three of us scribbled our answers.

  ‘Mine first,’ chuckled Dom. I opened his piece of paper and smoothed it out on the counter top, my jaw dropping when I saw the three words written on it.

  ‘No way!’ I exclaimed as he burst out laughing. I grabbed Jean-Claude’s off him to see the same three words and he bent over double, he was laughing so hard at the look on my face. I stared at both identical phrases, virtually matching mine.

  ‘How did you know?’ I moaned as I watched their reflections in the long mirror opposite.

  ‘Same thing happened to my best friend, Coco,’ Dom grinned, ‘not to mention a whole string of models he’s dated.’

  ‘He’s fondly known in modelling circles as the “Jack Hammer,”’ Jean-Claude added, trying to keep a straight face. ‘Goes at it like a pneumatic drill on speed. He’s never screwed a woman without … well you know, screwing up her neck.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I exclaimed, glaring at him.

  ‘I had a lot of money riding on it. There’s been a pool running since the moment you agreed to go out with him, and given you made him wait so long, the odds shot up in my favour.’

  ‘You … I can’t think of a word to say to you right now that wouldn’t involve me getting fired. And you can stop laughing, too,’ I warned Dom with a pointed finger.

  ‘No way, I’m going to enjoy this for the rest of the day. Get your purse out, Taylor, that’s my meal out with Calvin covered for tonight.’

  ‘With the money I’ve made, I’m booking The London Domville for the night for Pascal and me, with dinner,’ Jean-Claude nodded. They both high-fived each other as I groaned and reached for my bag. A bet was a bet, even though technically they’d cheated, given they knew the outcome before I even slept with him.

  ‘Seeing him again then, Paige?’ Dom teased.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ I answered firmly. I just had to tell Marc that now. ‘My God, why hasn’t someone told him how bad he is?’ I asked.

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Well, no, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings after he had to take me to A&E. I thought maybe it was just a one off, that we weren’t compatible. It was so bad. I was clinging to the railings of his headboard trying to anchor my arms to stop him knocking me out, he was shunting me up and down the bed so fast. I swear I have friction burns on my back and … you know … down there. It hurts to pee.’

  ‘It’s not all bad,’ Dom advised as he wiped some tears of laughter from his face.

  ‘Are you kidding me? Where’s the good? I’m wearing a collar and I’m in real pain.’

  ‘At least I can spread a rumour that you’ve got a flaming hot pussy.’

  ‘Dom!’ I exclaimed, turning around to whack him and moaning as the movement hurt my sore neck. I paid up and knocked back my black coffee, letting out a sigh of resignation. I was doomed when it came to men. I was just going to focus on my career for now. I should have trusted my gut. Until I found a man who stirred the kind of excitement, passion, and need in me that Alec did, I wasn’t ever dating again.

  The French Connection

  January ~ Six Years Later

  I virtually skipped out of The Paris Domville to a clear, crisp, and chilly day. My lingerie shoot wasn’t until this afternoon, so I had a few hours free. I pulled my cashmere beanie hat down over my ears, tightened the cashmere scarf around my neck, and put my hands deep into my wool coat pockets. I needed some fresh
air. I’d only flown into Paris yesterday morning, after spending a few weeks out on the Gold Coast in Australia shooting a swimwear commercial, then doing a fashion show in Seoul. My life was now a blur of exotic locations, rushing to different destinations and working nearly every day. I hadn’t had a holiday in forever. Not that I was complaining, it was my choice to work so hard. I was going to be twenty-eight this year, there was a limit to how long my body and appeal would keep me this busy. Jean-Claude was already encouraging me to move towards beauty campaigns. It wasn’t like I was desperate for the money anymore. I’d been so in demand over the last five years, been on the cover of so many magazines, done public appearances, talk shows, the whole nine yards, I could retire if I wanted to. But I’d miss the buzz, and I wanted to make sure that I’d saved enough to set up my parents, and Poppie, for life as well.

  I walked along the Seine, grabbing a hot coffee from a street vendor on the embankment and just enjoying a bit of quiet time. I didn’t often get to be alone. I was accompanied everywhere by my PA Shauna, hair and makeup stylist Vivian, and Jean-Claude, whenever he wasn’t busy in London casting for his ModOne agency, that I was still a part of. He’d taken a chance on me, I owed it to him to stay with him, and he was one of my best friends now. I adored him. I still lived in Alec’s apartment with Poppie, though she spent a few nights a week over at her boyfriend Justin’s. They’d been seeing each other for two years now. Poppie had even told me that he was the one, something she’d never said about Reece. I’d asked her how she knew that and she’d told me that while she thought she was in love with Reece, what she felt for Justin was so different, and so much stronger, she’d realised now what love really was. I’d never seen her so happy. She’d even turned down an incredible job in Brussels because she hadn’t wanted to be away from him, or me. That’s how sure she was. That’s how happy she was.

  I sighed as I sipped my drink. I wanted that. I wanted someone to love and to love me in return. I wanted to get married and have a family. But over the last six years, I’d built up a wall around my heart so high that no one could climb it. I was my own worst enemy. I’d make excuses that I was too busy, or too focussed on my career, to date. It was sort of true. But I knew for the right guy, I’d find the time, he’d become my priority. The trouble was I’d found that guy, it was just that he was happy with his single life. I hadn’t seen Alec in years. Not since that day in the hospital. He’d replied to my apology, thanking me and apologising as well. We sent Christmas cards and the odd message of congratulations for a job well done, but it was all very polite and civil. He’d moved on, he was one of the world’s top fashion photographers now, jet setting around the globe, rarely in one country for long, or with one woman for long. He was happy.

  I was happy for him.

  I was miserable for me.

  ‘Paige, you look stunning,’ Vivian exclaimed, her fingers steepled over her lips as I stepped out of my dressing room in my lingerie and a pair of elegant high heels. The designer was up and coming for exclusive, and very expensive, lingerie for women who had curves, and I was the face of his campaign. The body, too. I’d already shot the TV commercial and now we were doing the photography close-ups for the magazines. I was in a custom-made, gorgeous lace bra that had been inset with hundreds of tiny diamonds that glittered under the ceiling lights. The tiny low-rise French knickers and suspender belt matched, and the sheer stockings had diamond-encrusted lace tops. I dreaded to think how much money I was wearing, when I was actually wearing so little. As usual, Vivian had done an amazing job with my makeup and hair. It was looking thick and glossy, my natural waves enhanced to give it body as it hung down to my waist. My long black lashes were embellished with silver crystals, and she’d been asked to painstakingly glue tiny diamantés to my lips, creating a shimmer of sparkle as if I was wearing a silver lip-gloss. I wasn’t too keen on those, my lips were tingling and I wanted to scratch them off.

  ‘I feel stunning,’ I agreed with a smile, twisting to look at my reflection in the mirror from behind. Wow, these knickers didn’t leave much to the imagination, more of my bottom cheeks were out than in. The client had requested a full wax as well, something I’d been thinking I needed doing permanently as it was becoming more fashionable to be hairless, but it never got any easier each time I had it done. I winced as I remembered the first time. The degradation of having a total stranger looking at my privates, then the scream I’d let out as the strip had been pulled away. I’d reacted badly to the wax the first few times as well. I’d come out in pimples that had itched like crazy, leading to rumours of me having crabs from scratching myself that much on set. Dom had come to the rescue, ever the professional who’d seen and done everything. He had some cooling antiseptic gel he always travelled with, which had soon done the trick. I bulk ordered it in now.

  ‘Magnifique,’ Jean-Claude clapped as he wandered in munching on a croissant.

  ‘Me or the food?’

  ‘Both,’ he grinned, indicating with a turning finger for me to swivel. I did as I was told and he nodded his approval. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Excellent and raring to go. Is Juan on set?’ I asked.

  ‘Hmmm, about that,’ Jean-Claude nodded. ‘I may have told you a little white lie. Juan will not be shooting you today.’

  ‘Daryl?’ I asked, adjusting the cups of my bra, making sure the girls were as pert as they could be.

  ‘Please do not get angry with me, darling,’ he sighed, folding one arm across his chest and reaching up to rub his mouth with his hand.

  ‘Who’s the photographer, Jean-Claude?’ I demanded, my heart and stomach sinking. There was only one reason he’d lie to me, if he thought I’d back out of a job. And the only reason I’d refuse to do a job was if Alec was the photographer. I’d refused a few in the past, knowing it would hurt too much to see him.

  ‘You know who,’ he confirmed quietly.

  ‘How could you?’ I gasped, my stomach dropping like a stone. ‘You know our history, how hard it would be for me, especially when I’m … barely dressed.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Paige, but this is a huge campaign. The client wanted the best and right now, that’s you and Alec. This is part of life, working and dealing with people we don’t want to on a daily basis. No one is immune.’

  ‘Does he know it’s me?’

  ‘Of course he does. A photographer of his calibre has his choice of models, he only works with the ones he wants to. It was him that insisted on you being hired for the job when the client approached him to do the stills.’

  ‘Alec requested me for this job?’ I asked quietly, knotting my fingers together to stop my hands from shaking. I hadn’t experienced nerves in a very long time, but suddenly I felt like that eighteen year old, waiting for her first date to pick her up for the ball again.

  ‘He did. He’s a professional, Paige, as you are. The two of you are just going to do your jobs, then you can go your separate ways and back to your lives. It’s too late to back out now.’

  ‘I’d never back out,’ I responded, ‘I can’t believe you think I would, but I’m not happy that you kept this from me. I could have had time to prepare.’

  ‘You’d have been even worse, stewing on it for days. It was my decision. Alec knows I kept it from you so he’s prepared for you to need to relax a little.’

  ‘O God,’ I moaned. I wanted to flop onto the comfortable sofa and bury my head in my hands, but seeing as though my diamond-encrusted arse cheeks were worth a fortune right now, I had to be careful, delicate, and graceful. I had to be the new Paige, not the old one. Was I really ready to face him again? Scantily clad at that? I looked down at myself. At least I was in matching sexy underwear, not like that time in Daisy’s stall. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  ‘Please don’t let the client hear your over infectious enthusiasm,’ Jean-Claude teased with a shake of his head.

  ‘Dressing gown?’ Shauna offered, holding it out to me.

  ‘Everyone’s going to s
ee me like this shortly, I’ve got used to it, thanks,’ I smiled. I pursed and relaxed my lips a few times, dying to scratch them.

  Jean-Claude led the way, with me sandwiched between Shauna with her iPad, which was constantly beeping with bookings, and Vivian with her custom utility belt to hold her brush, clips, hairspray, and makeup. A maintenance guy stumbled past, rubber necking at my backside, and got a mouthful in French from Jean-Claude, which made me giggle. He was so protective, but it wasn’t like my body wasn’t public property now, everyone had seen it. Dad had got over his rage at people seeing his daughter scantily clad, he was just grateful “parts” were always covered. I’d kept reminding him of the offers I’d had to move into the porn industry, which I’d declined, and that soon stopped his moaning.

  Jean-Claude opened the door to the first set and we all squinted at the bright lighting. A bedroom scene had been recreated on the stage, which looked contemporary and sexy at the same time. The walls were painted grey with white skirting, and there were silver accents in the mirrors and frames that were hanging up. There was a black chandelier above a huge bed covered with black furs. A silver dressing table and stool and black and white chaise longue flanked the bed, and there was a walk-in wardrobe, filled with designer clothes and shoes. I wanted to move in. There were lots of people milling around, fussing over the set and adjusting the lighting, but I hadn’t spotted Alec yet. I took Jean-Claude’s hand as he helped me up the steps onto the stage. He walked around me, adjusting the straps of my bra while Vivian fiddled with my hair, spritzing it into place while she shielded my eyes. I suddenly felt all of the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. He was here. I could sense him.

  ‘Good afternoon everyone, it’s a pleasure to be working with you all,’ came his deep, husky voice that made my skin goose up. He sounded different, more mature, and he had a slight American twang to his well-spoken English accent. Vivian dropped her hand and moved away and my breath caught in my throat as my eyes locked with his, just like it always did. ‘Paige, it’s great to see you,’ he advised as he strode over, leaned in, and kissed my cheek.