Unbind (Sub Rosa Series Book 1)

by Lynch, Sarah Michelle

  “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.

  “How turned on are you?” I asked him panting. “Thinking of me as Marilyn?”

  “This much,” he growled, digging his jean-clad groin between my legs. “It’s not Marilyn, either. It’s you… so sexy. I wanna fuck you all the damn time.”

  “Get your pants off,” I ordered, wrapping my arms around his head to trap him against my bosom.

  “I hate my life,” he groaned with a mouthful of flesh.

  He ripped his pants open and I pulled my thong to the side.

  Chapter 54

  WHY SHE WAS adamant about him not showcasing his work, I didn’t know. Anyway the surprising response to our Frame shoot—and the number of people who were really touched by it—might have been a deciding factor in what happened next. Cai decided to run with an official exhibition, a debut of his artistic work, not just the prints he sold catering to other people’s tastes.

  News of this development wasn’t met with Jennifer’s approval, of course. What did she have to fear, really? All I knew was that she wouldn’t associate the magazine or herself with his personal endeavours—which was damn stupid considering he was an artist who could go from just interesting to absolutely cataclysmic if only with the right exposure. I knew she was possessive of him, protective to an extreme, but couldn’t she see that his expression might be his saviour?

  Seeing as though I was familiar with his work, he asked me what theme he could go for, which pieces were his best. They were all good, we both knew that. I just wondered what he could do if he really dug deep and I motioned that he should do some new shots with one message in mind. It had to be shocking and disturbing, and most of all, totally unique. If we were launching this on the New York scene, it could be anything it wanted to be. There were no boundaries and I pep-talked him, trying to drive it home that he could do something fabulous. He just had to believe in the mere quality of his skill. Did he want to be seen as a magazine photographer, or did he want to be seen as an artist? It was his decision. Did he want to be controversial, or did he want to be totally untouchable? Did he want his art to reflect his own life experiences, or did he seek to find beauty in foreign objects like me?

  I posed all these questions to him and more and I think he appreciated it more than he could express. Since our photo shoot, our lovemaking had gotten even better. He now not only took what he wanted without shame, but he also told me what he preferred and when. I was getting to like quickies everywhere and we were slowly, very slowly, working up to anal sex. I didn’t feel like I had to tiptoe so much anymore when it came to certain issues and I was becoming more inquisitive, making myself more and more a part of his world.

  I reminded him his gut instinct was a powerful one and he agreed. We’d proven that with Agnes, the affectionate name we’d bestowed on my alter ego in the magazine shots. Agnes the Impossible. Agnes the Valiant, we joked. She could be anybody she wanted to be. I only hoped Cai believed that for himself, maybe he was coming to believe it anyway. I just knew he had a talent and his restlessness—his constant need to travel across America to seek photographic work—was hiding some other impulse he felt was impossible to follow.

  It didn’t shock me when I woke up one Saturday morning to discover myself alone in bed. Rolling over, I discovered a note relaying:

  Took a job, back tonight.

  I love you so much (Agnes)

  C ;-) xxxx

  I knew he must have left early otherwise I would have heard him leave the apartment. Saturday morning was one of the highlights of my week—after coffee mornings with Carl and Ben, shopping with Tiff, or phone calls screaming down the phone with Kayla over our latest news—Saturday mornings were probably THE highlight of the week, actually. It had become ritual that Cai and I would wake late, drink our coffee, then take the car out of the garage and drive up to Manhattan, pick up takeaway pastries and more coffee, then just sit in Battery Park for a few hours watching the world go by. I liked being exposed to the elements and that place was good for it. He and I would catch up on a bench or on a walk as we ate, recalling all the titbits, the anecdotes—of our busy, busy weeks. It was true—most working days were about waking, rushing down breakfast (if we were lucky) then chasing to work and at the end of the day, falling into bed after making love. Not much time for conversation there.

  Anyway, I decided even though Cai wasn’t with me that Saturday morning, I was going to do the same ritual. It just meant a subway ride instead, but at least the weather was improving.

  I spent around an hour walking around, trying to avoid looks from single men seeking a ring on my finger, when I decided what the hell. I was in New York and there were still so many things I wanted to do in the city. I guess you could say there was a certain novelty to doing something solo, too. Like I was a fully-fledged grown-up not afraid of her own company anymore.

  I caught a cab and had it drop me on Broadway. I wandered for a bit, absorbing the packed atmosphere of Times Square and all the avenues criss-crossing the vicinity. It was around lunchtime when I stopped outside an old theatre buried down some backstreet and saw matinee tickets going for $35. I put some money down on the counter and went inside, not knowing anything about the play, the cast, or even the theatre.

  Turned out it was a student production of The Importance of Being Earnest. The crowd was pretty thin on the ground but it was alright. Enjoyable, I suppose. Passed the time and got me through an afternoon I’d usually spend grocery shopping with Cai. That was a thought—but the internet and online orders were a beautiful thing.

  When I emerged from the theatre, I could have sworn I saw Jennifer on the street ahead of me. It looked like she had just come out of there, too. It was her hair I saw but unusually for her, she wore a scruffy long mackintosh over some ordinary turned-up jeans and flat pumps! I tried to keep up but as the crowds became more swollen around the over-populated side of Broadway, she disappeared. I put it down to my imagination and anyway, when the skies opened, my mind quickly turned to finding the nearest open café and situating myself there until I could get back home to my stud.

  WHEN Cai returned to the apartment that night, he found me with the laptop open on a takeaway pizza joint. Noticing my feet up, my robe and slippers on, he asked, “You got caught in it, too?”

  “Uh-huh. Drowned rat. Even your volcanic shower failed to warm me up properly.”

  “God damn, tell me you’re ordering in?” He looked a little the worse for wear, too.

  “Yep, just about to press the ‘place my order’ button.”

  “Oh, yeah. I need to shovel some tonight.”

  “Hungry…” I shut the computer, “…for me or food or just everything?”

  He growled as he walked over, bending to kiss my lips quickly. I sensed the dampness from him before I even felt it.

  “You smell strange, Cai.”

  He pulled off his clothes a
s he started taking the stairs. “Let me warm my stone-cold balls before we get into where I’ve been, what you’re shoving lovingly in my pie-hole tonight, and yeah, what I’ll be shoving in yours too…”

  I laughed like a maniac as I heard the shower flick on and him groan under the hot water. “Fuck, yeah!”

  I savoured my wine and stared out of the window, getting lost in my own thoughts. Time escaped me and before long, he was running down the stairs in a warm sweater and jeans. Then the doorbell rang.

  “Good timing, I’ll go,” he offered.

  He took the pizza boxes from the dude and gave him a tip.

  “Shit this smells good! I’m fucking starved!” He flung the boxes open on the coffee table and his eyes grew wide at all the contents. “Wow!”

  “I thought you’d be hungry,” I said, tucking into some garlic dough balls. Sod it—give me carbohydrates!

  I’d also ordered two large pizzas made with our favourite toppings. One was a veggie special, the other a meat feast with extra jalapenos and lashings of chilli sauce.

  “Hmm, this is good.” He gave me a pizza-tasting kiss and murmured, “I missed you, did you have a good day?”

  I finished my chewing and nodded. “Yeah, I wandered the park and then took a cab to Broadway and caught a matinee show.”

  “What was it? Some cheap student crap?”

  I laughed, holding my belly. I had a mouthful of cheese, onions and mushrooms, nearly spluttering. “Oh, so I fell for it, yeah? Hmm. It was The Importance of Being Earnest. I thought it should have been called The Importance of Austere. Honestly, the set was a shambles and the costumes… never seen anything like it before in my life!”

  He chuckled. “I’m glad you found something to do but yeah, you got roped in. The stars to actually come from those kinda things are rare, you know?”

  “I see that,” I replied.