by Helen Karol
"Is it alright if I get a cup of coffee first?"
"Yes, I think I'll have one myself. How about you, Richard? Or do you have work to do?"
If looks could kill, Stella would have dropped dead at his feet. As it was, the thunderous scowl he directed at her failed to make even a small scratch in her perfect composure. He turned on his heel and strode down the hall; throwing over his shoulder.
"I'll be in the darkroom."
Stella shrugged, the only concession she seemed willing to make that she noticed his anger. "Shall we get our coffee and take it to my office?"
Claire nodded and the two women walked into the small lunchroom that housed the communal coffee pot. In silence, they helped themselves, adding cream and sugar. The intervening minutes allowed Claire to compose herself, and by the time she and Stella were walking down the hallway she felt almost normal.
"How's Julian?"
Claire stared at Stella; this was the only time she could remember the other woman making purely personal conversation. Expected pleasantries such as asking her if she enjoyed her honeymoon, or congratulating her on her marriage, couldn't be classed in the same category. The closest she and Stella had come to a personal conversation was when they had talked about Las Vegas, and Claire was sure Stella had regretted it immediately. So why was she initiating a personal conversation now? Claire answered her warily.
"Fine."
To her surprise, Stella didn't drop it there. "You make a rather charming couple."
Claire could not have been more amazed if Stella had announced the world would end in the next five minutes. What was Stella up to - where was this leading? First she had interrupted her and Richard. Then there had been the reminder of her honeymoon, and her subsequent dismissal of Richard. Now Stella was talking about what a charming couple she and Julian made.
If Claire didn't know better, she would think Stella was attempting, in her own subtle manner, to warn her of the dangers of becoming re-involved with Richard. But why should Stella bother to do that? Unless there was something in it for her. Claire remembered she heard that Stella and Richard had once been an item, but as far as she knew that was over a long time ago. Stella was not the kind of woman one suspected of carrying a torch.
The possibility that Stella interrupted them because she couldn't bear to see Richard kiss her seemed highly unlikely. And even if that were the case, surely she would have attempted to pacify Richard and would bear some animosity towards her, instead of making comments that were to her benefit. It was all very puzzling, but she wasn't going to worry about it any further, she had enough problems as it was. The answer she gave Stella was as perfunctory as the first.
"I like to think so."
They had reached Stella's office by this time and the conversation turned to business matters. Their conference lasted about an hour, during which time Stella assigned her the next profile in their series. It was to be on one of the other bigger name designers in L.A., Cecile Johnson. Greg was already working on Jenni Roberts for this month, so she could take a few weeks to get to grips with it for next month’s issue.
Normally, the designers didn't directly compete with each other, but in this case, Cecile and Julian were both expected to launch a new line of designs for the younger market in the near future.
"I think it would be a good idea to pick up on that, don't you?" Stella suggested.
She didn’t ask her if she felt it might cause a conflict of interest, which Claire took as a compliment to her professionalism. She did, however, instruct Claire to allow Mary-Jane to work with her on the profile.
"I think she deserves the chance to show her potential."
Claire's agreement marked the end of their discussion, and she returned to her office to discuss the profile with Mary-Jane. Over the past hour Claire's mind had been taken up with business, but when the discussion turned to the scheduling of the pictures for the profile, Claire was once more reminded of her personal life.
How many times had she gone on assignment with Richard in the past? Countless times. It had thrilled her every time. Working with him had added a dimension to her work that was exciting. She had always looked forward to those times; now she was dreading them.
Why did it have to be like this? If only he hadn't rushed her, demanded she make a commitment to him, professionally as well as personally. It was then that the doubts had begun.
Their intense sexual attraction hadn't bothered her before then - quite the opposite. She had thrilled to his every touch, gloried in the feelings his presence had elicited. It was only when he had asked her to make a commitment to him and she felt she couldn't, that she had begun to wonder if sexual attraction was their only real bond.
If only he hadn't pressured her. If only he had come to L.A. sooner. If only...what? If only she hadn't married Julian? This was getting her nowhere. He had pressured her. He took his time in coming to L.A. And she had married Julian.
She couldn't spend her time wondering about what might have been; she had to deal with the present. And the present demanded she work with Richard. If that was to be accomplished without disaster there could be no repeats of yesterday and this morning. She had made a commitment to Julian and he was entitled to expect her to stand by it.
"Claire?"
From the look on Mary-Jane's face, Claire judged she had been staring into space for a good few minutes.
"Sorry, Mary-Jane, what did you say?"
"I asked you when we should schedule the photo-session."
Poor Mary-Jane, she wore the same embarrassed expression from yesterday morning. It seemed a shame to have the others in the middle of all this, but then it was a pity the whole thing was happening at all.
"The same time as the Jenni Roberts photographs were scheduled - on the Monday. That gives time for a second shooting if there are any problems. Not that I foresee any; Richard's a competent photographer."
"Seems he's competent at other things as well."
Mary-Jane looked pointedly at Claire as she said the surprising words.
Claire's expression froze. "Are you implying anything in particular, Mary-Jane?"
"Oh, Claire, drop the ice-maiden act, you're no Stella, and I'm not the one you should be practising it on."
Claire ought to have known Mary-Jane wouldn't stay embarrassed for long. The brunette was somewhat forthright, as evidenced by her last comments. It was a little hard to stay coolly indignant after such candour.
"You're right. It is a pity I can't be more dampening with him, but it's a bit hard considering our relationship in New York."
Greg and Mary-Jane held more junior positions in the New York offices, having joined the magazine after Claire. It was a large staff and they didn’t work together or know much about each other before coming to L.A., so Claire and Richard's relationship was unknown to both of them.
"Pretty close, I take it."
"Yes. Look Mary-Jane, I'd really rather not discuss it, if you don't mind. Our involvement ended when I left New York, and it's going to stay that way. I was surprised to see him yesterday, that's all."
"I'll say!"
But at the pleading look Claire gave her, she referred to the subject no further. Claire was relieved, particularly so when only a few minutes later the subject of their discussion entered the room. He had removed his jacket and the sleeves of his shirt were turned back revealing his forearms. Claire felt the hairs at the back of her neck begin to prickle.
She bit her lip and looked determinedly away. She would not make a fool of herself again. Fortunately his eyes were not directed at her, but at the prints in his hand.
"Greg back yet?
It was Mary-Jane who answered him.
"Not yet. The session was only supposed to last until around ten, so he should be back any time.”
Observing Jenni Roberts during a photo shoot was the last part of the legwork of the profile. The nature of Julian's work hadn't allowed for the same treatment, but he had shown her how the gar
ment progressed from concept to completion. Despite her preoccupation with Julian himself that day, she had been impressed by his skill in designing. But it was only when the dress had adorned a live model that she was able to appreciate his true genius. It was then that the dress had come to life; caressing and clinging, clothing the woman superbly.
Claire had realised then that the appeal of Julian's designs lay not only in their elegance and beauty, but because they were created from a true appreciation of the nature of women. The soft delicate fabrics were chosen to accent femininity; the gentle flowing design and abundance of material both revealing and cloaking the curves and hollows of the model's excellent figure.
At a time when feminism had matured enough that femininity was no longer a dirty word, it was hardly surprising that his designs were so successful. Women who had been regulated to dressing in clothes that denied their differences from men were now delighted to wear designs that glorified their womanhood. And Julian was a master at that particular art.
Perhaps that was why she had never worn his designs until a couple of years ago. Until then, her femininity had been locked inside, while she struggled to achieve success in a competitive world. But gradually, she had found a niche for herself and she had matured enough to recognise and accept her womanhood, and had chosen to dress accordingly.
It was then that Claire had come to know why they had never progressed beyond friendship in the past. It was not only because she had not wished to compete with Susanna's memory, but because it had been immaterial, then that he was a man and she a woman. Now, the distinction was the most important factor in their relationship - especially now they were husband and wife.
"Daydreaming, Claire?
She looked up and found herself meeting the knowing eyes of the man who had so increased her maturing awareness of herself as a woman. She felt a betraying blush begin to creep up her neck. When she spoke, although the words were the truth, she knew she used them in self-defence.
"I was just remembering my profile on Julian. He really is a wonderful designer - I wear his designs myself."
"How very loyal of you," was Richard's two-edged reply, but the darkening of his expression was not missed by Claire. Her victory was short-lived when he sat on her desk and his nearness evoked a quick rush of hot desire.
"Are those the shots from yesterday?" She was amazed her voice sounded normal.
"Yes, would you like to see them?"
She took the contacts from him, careful not to allow their hands to touch even for an instant. The sardonic smile he sent her revealed he knew what she was doing and mocked her efforts. His eyes claimed that although she may be trying to avoid it, she secretly longed for his touch.
The photographs were good. They caught their subject in varying poses, employed in various aspects of her profession. Technically, they could not be faulted, but artistically they seemed to lack...flair. The lighting was good, highlighting the woman's features, and they were well posed, no artificial nature apparent.
However, Claire had met Jenni and the woman had a vivacious appeal that was missing here. As physical images they were excellent; but there was nothing about the photographs that raised them to the level of personal portrayal.
Claire was surprised. She had never doubted Richard's talent, considering him good at his job. But the assignments she worked with him on before required only an accurate recording of events whereas this required a more personal touch.
Mentally shrugging, she handed him back the photographs. Greg' s efforts had not appeared to damage their sales, and these were better than that. Richard had managed to capture a certain air of glamour in his shots.
"I'm sure Stella and Greg will be pleased."
So what if they weren't perfect. Real talent was often rare, particularly artistic talent. If Richard was that good he would probably, on this occasion, be on the other side of the camera.
As Julian had been.
The thought caught her unawares. Oh no, she wasn't going to start comparing them professionally as well. She refused to allow the thought, that this involved more than just business, but was an indication of the man, to form.
"Yes, they'll do."
His eyes narrowed as he spoke and Claire had the uncomfortable feeling that he had read her thoughts. They did not seem to come as a surprise to him. Was he aware, then, of his own limitations? If so, why had he wanted to take the risk of investing his time and money in his own magazine? Claire searched, but found no answer to that question. Besides, it wasn't her concern anymore; he was no longer a part of her life, other than a colleague.
Just then he passed the photographs to Mary-Jane, who had asked to see them. Watching him walk across the small space between the two desks was enough to cause her pulse to quicken, and Claire knew she was deluding herself. She could never dismiss him as merely a colleague as long as his slightest movement could affect her so much.
"Hey, What's going on here? I didn't miss anything, did I."
Greg's cheery voice was a welcome sound that succeeded in releasing Claire's tension. Not long afterwards, Greg and Richard went off together to finish the final prints, while she and Mary-Jane began the pre-interview research for their article. Although Claire saw Richard on more occasions throughout the day, she was never alone with him.
She found that in the presence of the others, although she may not be able to stem the sexual attraction Richard held for her, at least she did not find herself in the betraying situations she had on the two occasions when they were alone. On the way out of her office that evening, she decided that was the secret; she must never be alone with him.
As if to ridicule her thoughts, she saw Richard's figure walking stealthily towards her down the deserted hallway. Frantic, she pushed the elevator button. Miraculously, it arrived immediately. She was able to step in, close the doors and begin to descend before he reached her. She leaned back in the corner of the elevator, expelling a long breath. She would leave before the others, in future. No matter what, she was going to get through this - she just hoped the strain wouldn't kill her first.
Chapter Nine
Claire pushed open the glass doors of the kitchen with one hand, while balancing the tray of drinks with the other. Placing the tray on the picnic table, she was just about to call everyone for refreshments, when instead her attention was caught by the scene in front of her.
Andrea and Stephen were down on the patio in front of the living room. Andrea was lying on a lounger soaking up the sun, clothed in a flattering, one piece bathing suit. In striking contrast, Stephen sat beside her in a garden chair. His appearance made no concessions to the fact that sand and sea stretched immediately before them. He was fully clothed including a hat, and was completely shaded by a large table umbrella. Andrea had made sure he was comfortably settled under the latter, before throwing herself open to the mercies of the sun.
"Poor dear, you know how he tends to take sunstroke."
The inevitable pipe was in Stephen's mouth, although Claire suspected it had gone out in the breeze that blew up from the ocean. A fact that made little impression on Stephen, who was undoubtedly dozing. Further down on the beach, the couple's three grandchildren were engaged in building a sandcastle. Or rather, Marcie and her two male cousins were helping Julian build one. Over the pound of the surf, she could hear the excited high-pitched squeals of the children, interspersed with Julian's deep tones dispensing instructions.
The construction had progressed considerably since she had left them to fetch refreshments, and they were now filling the moat with sea-water. Marcie and the boys ran backwards and forwards bringing pail after pail to empty into the channel Julian was digging around the castle
Marcie, in her excitement, became overzealous and splashed the contents of her pail over Julian. He turned in mock ferocity, and to Marcie's delight, picked her up and threw her in the air. The other two noticed this preferential treatment and crowded in on him demanding equal rights. Laughing, Julian obl
iged.
Claire was no longer amazed by Julian's fondness for these children. Since that first day at Long Beach, she had seen him with them fairly often, so his indulgence with them was now a familiar sight. Nevertheless, it was still a sight she found touching.
She called to them and the children came scampering over the sand, Julian following at a more leisurely pace. After she had refereed the children's squabbles over who should get which glass, he carried the tray down to the patio. Andrea joined them around the shaded table, giving Stephen a good-natured poke. He immediately woke up and, mumbling apologies, accepted the glass of California cooler, which Claire passed to him. Andrea stretched and then asked Claire.
"What are you wearing to Caroline's party on Wednesday?"
Claire smiled. "I haven't decided yet, but no doubt another of my husband's romantic designs." She looked at Julian, teasing him with her eyes. "I think I'll look for a new one and another for the party on Thursday. I can get as many as I like now I don't have to pay for them."
Julian smiled back at her and then said. "I'm surprised we were invited most people know I hardly go to a party in a month never mind two in a week."
Andrea answered him. "That was different, Julian. Now you're married again it's only natural for you both to be invited to everything. And don't let him stop you from going Claire," she added supportively.
The children's voices coming from the deck interrupted the conversation, demanding Julian settle a dispute between them, which he did in a few sentences, and to their satisfaction.
"You're good with the children, Julian. It's really about time you had some of your own."
Andrea's remark was directed at Julian, but her gaze was pointedly directed at Claire. Claire felt herself blushing. Julian helped himself to a glass of the refreshing drink and then answered her.
"Mind your own business, Andrea. I won't have you embarrassing my wife."
But the good-natured raillery in his tone and the smile on his lips belied the harshness of his words. Andrea laughed and continued with her usual frankness.