Skinny Dipping

by Kaye, Alicia M

  Gloria was bent in front of the oven, poking at something with a long-handled fork. She turned when Sophie entered the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping from her thick, dark plait and framing her face. “This oven doesn’t work like my one at home. It’s not hot enough. Nothing’s cooking. The vegetables aren’t soft.” Her mother looked on the verge of hysteria. The tension in the air was all-consuming and claustrophobic. “I thought coming here would be nice you know? But this place is an absolute nightmare. Nothing ever works like you want it to.”

  “Let me help. I can do roast vegetables,” Sophie said. “I brought salads.”

  Gloria scowled. “No, no, I’ve got it. Can you check whether the table has been set? Your father was supposed to do it, but I can’t talk to him lately. He’s been so… cantankerous.”

  “He’s probably just stressed.”

  “What with? It’s not like he’s working anymore. He could help around the house every now and then.” Gloria’s face was tense. “He keeps yelling at me over the tiniest thing. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells.” Gloria brought her hands to her face, dabbing her eyes. “Sorry about that dear.” With effort, Gloria controlled her face.

  “Mum, I can help. Do you want me to talk to him?”

  “Leave it for the day. Let’s just focus on Christmas. It’s Christmas, after all, and not a day for complaining. Put your happy face on today. Merry Christmas, Sophie,” Gloria said firmly.

  “Merry Christmas, Mum. We’ll work through this as a family.”

  “Thank God it’s all out in the open now.”

  The stress of Roger’s job loss was taking its toll. Sophie said a silent prayer, hoping her father’s interview had gone as well as he’d thought. A problem shared was a problem halved.

  Chapter 25

  They spent the week at the country cottage and the much anticipated day of New Year’s Eve arrived. This was also the day of Matthew’s party in Brighton.

  They’d been writing text messages back and forth for the whole Christmas period. He’d opened her Christmas present, a surf wallet, like the one he tried to buy off her on their first encounter.

  Sophie had arranged to drive Carol to Brighton, Mickey would meet them up there. After all there was an element of safety in numbers, especially when she was meeting Matthew.

  Sophie’s phone beeped again. Another text message from Matthew. Carol snatched the phone, read the message. “Matthew says in his text, ‘meet in thirty minutes. Looking forward to seeing you.’ Whoo!” She shot Sophie a conspiratorial look. Sophie felt her stomach twist into an excited knot as they arrived in Brighton.

  “Do I have to come with you?” Carol moaned as Sophie pulled up at the designated spot. Why can’t your Art Director just do this?”

  “Because he’s lazy. Yet talented.” Sophie found a spot and parked her.

  “Did you ever think maybe you’re teaching him to be lazy?” Carol insisted. “Doing all his work for him? And why are you working on New Year’s Eve day?”

  “It is a work day.” Sophie pushed open her car door and walked out onto the promenade.

  “So…he should be doing this rather than you?” Carol insisted as she jumped out of the car too.

  “You’ve got a point. Maybe I’m a control freak. I’m really very detailed. Maybe that’s why I work so hard. I like to know everything about what’s going on in a campaign. Since the commercial is part of the campaign, I want to make sure the client gets exactly what we’ve promised. I need to make sure the director, the camera man, and everyone else involved knows exactly what we’re after. So when they read the shooting script, everyone in my team understands what’s expected.”

  “What’s a shooting script?” Carol asked. “Sorry, I only do stage, really. I’d love to do a commercial though, I think.”

  Sophie looked at Carol standing with Brighton beach in the background. She’d be good, and they were having so much trouble with that girl Samantha. “A shooting script has all the detail of the shots. The camera moves, the dialogue, instructions about any voice-overs or anything else that will be featured in the commercial. It even includes information about the costumes, and specifics about the props we’ll use. Having a shooting script means that all the people involved will be on the same page. It’s like a reference document, to make sure we achieve the right message when shooting the commercial.”

  Carol was looking bored with all the details and then gave a shrill scream. “Matthew?” He was about one hundred metres away, sauntering on the promenade toward them.

  “Girls.” Matthew waved to greet them.

  Sophie watched as Carol ran to greet Matthew. She toyed with her camera, releasing her nerves. What did she have to be nervous about? She’d seen him so many times before. He was so attractive, his blond hair, bouncing wildly in the wind. She could tell from the bounce in his walk that he was in an exceptionally good mood.

  “Happy New Year, Matthew. Is Josh going to be at your party tonight?” Carol asked.

  Matthew nodded, his mouth wide in a large engaging smile. “He’s already at the hotel sitting at the lobby bar.”

  “Excellent!” Carol shrieked, looking over his shoulder, hoping Josh might miraculously appear.

  Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world Matthew reached for Sophie. He picked her up, and spun her around. She screamed in delight, and she suddenly felt flushed all over from where his hand rested on her.

  “Welcome to Brighton,” he whispered in her ear. He shot her a dangerous grin, and seemed thrilled to see her. He gently put her down.

  Feeling flustered Sophie turned to Carol. “Let’s make the most of the daylight. I need to take shots of different angles. This won’t take more than an hour,” she commented, and she urged both Carol and Matthew out onto the beach.

  “Do I have to be here?” Carol asked.

  “You can be my model.” She directed Carol out to walk onto the pebbled beach. “Matthew’s the client, so he can just watch.”

  “Really?” Carol seemed thrilled, jumping into action, clapping her hands excitedly. There was only a flicker of uncertainty in Carol’s gaze. It was almost unnoticeable, but Sophie saw it. But after taking a slight swallow, Carol pushed her shoulders back and held her head high as though nothing phased her and that she loved being the centre of attention, that type of girl.

  “It’s necessary,” Sophie said stubbornly. “I need excellent shots to show Desmond. Matthew, I just need you to see the area, make sure you’re happy with where we plan to film.”

  “Okay.” He blanked his face, trying to look exceptionally serious. But his lips twitched, in a sexy type of way. Sophie wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

  It was her turn to frown, try not to get carried away thinking about Matthew’s lips. “Of course. Let’s get this over and done with so we can enjoy the festivities. Carol, just stand there and I’ll take photos of every angle.”

  Carol stood like a statue, but held her head high with a type of grace which must be from the her ballet training. She stood smiling, showing her long, slender neck, and expressive, elfin face. She was a natural. She really could be the girl for the commercial, the way her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

  Sophie captured shots with the pier in the background, shots simply horizontal with only the water lapping. After taking almost thirty different photos, she checked the camera, and her handiwork. Desmond would definitely have something to work with.

  “Look at these Matthew, aren’t they great?” There was a shot showing Carol looking radiant, with a mass of gleaming blonde hair blowing in the wind and the sea behind her. Her large eyes would hold anyone’s attention.

  “She looks bloody brilliant on camera. She’s not the girl we’re using though, is she?” Matthew said in a low voice, quietly so Carol couldn’t overhear.

  “No….” Sophie said slowly.

  “Pity.”

  Sophie nodded. “Very nicely done, thank you Carol,” she said. “It’s a wrap.”r />
  Carol raced back from her posing. She looked nervously at Sophie. “Are the pictures okay?” She ran a hand through her mass of blonde hair.

  “Terrific,” Sophie said, assuring her. “You’re quite a natural.”

  Carol sighed visibly, and her eyes glittered at the compliment.

  “They really look fabulous,” Matthew confirmed.

  “Thanks,” Carol squeezed Sophie’s hand. “If they’re not, we can stay a little longer. I was so worried I might be tense.”

  “You were perfect.”

  Carol seemed to shake herself, and the worry away from her. “Well that was fun,” she enthused. “We should go back. I’ve got a party to get ready for. And I’ve got to see Josh.”

  ***

  The girls got ready in the penthouse suite. Matthew was staying somewhere else in the hotel, with a group of his school friends. Sophie didn’t know where, all she knew was that she was to meet him at the party. She dressed in a short red dress and Carol was in something sleek, short, and flashy.

  Mickey arrived, dumping a backpack on the floor as she walked into the penthouse. Her jaw practically dropped to the floor as she looked around. “So we’re all staying here the night?” Mickey said, running around the room, like a kid who’d been eating too much sugar. She jumped on one of the beds. “Nice spring?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Yeah. I guess,” Sophie said.

  “So this has to be a date,” Carol asked, “It is a date, isn’t it?”

  Sophie shrugged. “I dunno. He just asked us all to the party. All of us.”

  “You are in mass denial,” Mickey said. “Tell us what’s going on. We’re all in Brighton in the bloody penthouse suite. We’re not stupid.” She flopped onto a bed.

  “There’s not much to tell. Nothing has happened.”

  “You should have the master bedroom,” Carol said, her eyes wide, innocent and rounded.

  “Nope, that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I couldn’t take him back to my room. That would be a promise of…”

  “Ah ha. So you’ve thought about it. You’ve thought about having sex with him,” Mickey said, pointing her finger. “He’s gorgeous, nice, and rich.”

  “It’s not about him being gorgeous, nice, and rich.”

  “Lighten up Soph, have a little bit of fun,” Carol commented.

  “If it’s going to work with Matthew, you better start by taking a risk, and just go with the flow. You can’t control everything.”

  ***

  By the time they got to the party, it was in full swing, with a DJ playing music. There were about fifty people, all with drinks in their hands. Carol and Mickey practically fled to find a waiter, leaving Sophie alone, wondering how she would find Matthew amongst all the people.

  Working her way through the crowd she found him – surrounded by women, of course. They were all tilting their heads up, asking him questions and hanging on his every word. He wore casual black jeans, and an expensive-looking, crisp, white shirt. Sophie felt her knees go to jelly, as she wondered whether Carol or Mickey might be right, and if she would see him with no clothes on.

  He caught her eye, and shot her a lazy, sexy smile. He excused himself, breaking away from his conversation and approached her. Almost echoing her thoughts, he spoke. “It’s good to see you.” He offered her a glass of champagne, the tips of his fingers somehow, innocently brushed hers.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “You look great.” She was acutely aware of her body responding to him, her neck arching up toward his tall frame, all her attention on him.

  He shrugged. “And you look beautiful, as always.” His tone was very casual, but closely followed by a devilish grin.

  “The party’s in full swing. And it’s still quite early in the evening,” she said, pushing her hands through her hair, and looked at a group of people having jelly shooters. “Everyone arrived yet?”

  “Not quite, we’re expecting another fifty people or so.”

  “Awesome place, awesome party. Oh, there’s Eve.” Sophie noticed Eve from the swimming centre and waved her over.

  “Yes, Eve’s here,” Matthew sighed. “Talk to everyone, or do whatever you want to. But I’m hoping you won’t talk to anyone else for too long. I would like to spend some time, just with you. If it’s possible?” He gave her a confident stare, then took his leave as Eve approached.

  At eleven thirty, Matthew made an announcement, fireworks would be on soon and anyone brave enough should go outside on the terrace because there would be a stunning view. The party went into chaos, the guests looking for coats as the party moved outside, with people huddling in the true English style, waiting for the countdown.

  Sophie shivered at the thought. “Want to join me outside?” Matthew said, suddenly at her side.

  “I have to get a wrap or a coat, or my cardigan. Otherwise, I’ll freeze.”

  “Do you want my coat?”

  “No, I’ll be only one minute. I’ll just run upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?” Matthew asked and flashed a dangerous smile. “Do you want me to come with you, and keep you company? Upstairs?” the words were innocent, but they seemed loaded with intent. His expression gave her a distinct feeling that if he came upstairs, the equilibrium between them would certainly change.

  She nodded.

  He followed her in silence, toward the lift. They entered the lift, and she realised they would be riding the lift alone. Just the two of them. Together. She found safety, standing on the other side, keeping a safe distance from him.

  The lift travelled up. Level three. Level four. Level five. They travelled in absolute silence, their eyes meeting in the elevator door’s reflection. Tension built around them, and Sophie was sure that if the lift took much longer, she could practically see them flinging themselves at each other and tearing their clothes off.

  The elevator doors opened, and Sophie practically ran out, opened the door to the suite and hurried into the master bedroom. Half-frenzied, she looked for her cardigan. Should she try to cool the situation down? She tried to focus on finding her warm item of clothing. But her head was full of thoughts of him. She could imagine Matthew throwing her clothes off and having his way with her, right here, in the master bedroom.

  She needed to calm herself down. “Thanks for the room, it’s grand,” she called out, even though he stood casually by the master bedroom doorway, watching her hungrily as she smiled at finding the cardigan. She pulled it on and fumbled with the buttons, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than they way he stood so very sexily by the doorway.

  “Later, if you wanted, I could give you a tour of the rest of the hotel?”

  “Sure,” she said, exiting the room with speed. Suddenly confused about how much she wanted him and the knowledge of how complicated their working relationship would become if anything happened between them.

  “What do you think?” he asked, stopping by the large glass doors in the penthouse lounge. He gave her a sidelong glance. “This room has an excellent view.”

  “Yes, it’s lovely,” she approached him, and looked at the sea. Mesmerised.

  “I wanted to say something to you,” he said, turning to face her. “I know it’s early. But… Happy New Year.” His voice was intense, and he put his hand through her hair.

  “Happy New Year,” she answered, feeling heat from where he touched her.

  He fumbled with her cardigan, doing up the buttons. “You’ve missed one, got them all out of synch. I’ll help you put this on properly. No need for you to get cold.”

  She laughed. “Thanks, I didn’t realise.” The pressure of his hands sent a shiver of anticipation through her body.

  Their eyes locked. His arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, and pulled her close toward him. Was he going to kiss her? Suddenly her fears about complicated relationships vanished from her mind. She was lost in his handsome face, as his large blue eyes searched for any type of resistance.

  She felt an urgent, sharp need for hi
m to kiss her. Quickly. Otherwise she might lean in. Be bold. Make the first move. And she didn’t want to do that.

  He pressed his lips against hers. Soft. Gentle. Tender. Electricity soared between them and the intensity of the kissing became harder. More passionate. He practically ripped off her cardigan. But then he stopped, and pulled back.

  “Sorry, Soph,” he said, panting. “I don’t want to rush anything between us if you don’t want to.” He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.

  She swallowed, feeling weak with wanting. “It’s okay,” she said, in a very quiet voice, her hands making the decision for her, pulling him close by the belt buckle. Tugging his shirt out of his jeans. Her hands shaking slightly as she was aware of initiating the undressing further.

  Her phone rang, the pierce breaking the energy surrounding them. “I’m sorry,” she said, laughing nervously, her stomach flipping with butterflies. She wiped her lips which were still tingling. “It’s probably Mickey or Carol, wondering where I am. I’ll just turn it on silent.” She grabbed her phone with shaking hands, and frowned seeing the caller identification screen. Edith.

  “Hello?” she said, taking the call. Edith wouldn’t call her on New Year’s Eve, would she?

  “Sit down, Sophie.”

  “Why?” Why did she need to sit down?

  “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “Mum rang.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s Dad.”

  “Dad?” Sophie stiffened. “What about Dad?”

  “He’s in hospital.”

  “What hospital?” she gasped, unable to keep the panic from her voice. She didn’t realise tears were rolling down her face. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s in emergency, Mum’s on her way already.”

  Sophie dropped the phone as her knees buckled, and Matthew somehow caught her, stopped her from falling. “I’ve been drinking. It’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got to get there.” She spoke mostly to herself, her eyes round, wild, conjuring a plan.