Chapter 9

Thursday night saw Andrew lying in bed with Chiara. They had frantically fucked, and then passionately fucked and had just finished lazily fucking. For once he was not full of self-reflection. It had been a long couple of weeks since Catherine had left at the end of term. Chiara was a beautiful woman with a commanding and demanding presence. Yet the way they had spent the last couple of hours was in sharp contrast to the day of shooting. Antoine, much to Andrew’s surprise, had spent the day capturing the two of them playing tourist. First in Florence, where they hit all the tourist high points, and then down in Pisa, where the key shot was in the Cathedral grounds with the Tower leaning over in the background. The day had been bloody freezing, although dry, and both of them had been well wrapped up. The only direction they received from Antoine was to be lovey and romantic. It was relaxed, really good fun and he and Chiara had a great time. But it was the sheer novelty of a more, considered shoot is probably the best way to describe it. It was not frantic although they didn’t fuck about and waste any time but it felt like half the day Chiara and Andrew wandered the streets of the two cities and were just themselves. And the best part was that Chiara got to tell him all about how her life had been in the last couple of years.

In a less self-absorbed person it would have come across as bubbly, giddy even. But with Chiara there was a slight edge of ‘this is my due and why did it take so long for everyone to realise it’. Unfair probably but Chiara was a star, liked to be a star and expected to be treated like a star. She wasn’t as bad as that but it is much closer to the truth than an exaggeration. And Andrew was sure it was innate by that point, it was not a shield or a cloak that she wore, this was part of her. But for a man who seemed to have compartmentalised his life to a ridiculous degree she was the perfect foil for the day. Her stories were genuinely interesting and though Chiara dominated the conversation, it was not a chore. They had caught the last of the winter daylight in Pisa before heading back in the rented van to Florence. Chiara had worn three outfits in Florence and a fourth in Pisa so the second day would be the usual routine of getting into the appropriate wardrobe before taking it off again. After dinner at the hotel restaurant Chiara had come to his room. There had been no discussion and the conversation over dinner had reflected on the various scenes that they had done previously, most notably the first one and the weekend in Cyprus.

“Today was nice and quiet Andrew but talking about these shoots has brought back all those memories. You coming into the hotel room all sweaty after your run.”

The memories worked for them both. The first time was a rutting but the second time was just as hard and passionate but lasted much longer. Just as Andrew got off on Chiara’s body, her full round breasts and smooth tight stomach, so she too traced the muscles in his shoulders and chest as they rolled around on the bed. It was the familiar that they both got off on. Neither of them were mentally there in Florence, a Cyprus beach-front studio room was very much on both their minds. It was only once they had satiated their carnal desires that he could get Chiara to talk about the tax situation. She had asked him to leave it until later when he raised it during the day.

“The tough thing is I believe it was my mother, probably with encouragement from my brother, that has made the allegation. You heard me all day, the last two years have been just about the best of my professional life. But remember how I told you that my brother is a priest and my mother is very Catholic? That I am showing so much of my body, unashamedly and repeatedly, has been a source of much embarrassment for them. Neither of them were that pleased that I was a model at all, but at least I was clothed. And that is the thing, more than 90% of my modelling is still clothed, or at least covered. There are only a few commercials where I am naked, or appear naked. That I am challenging standards of beauty, ageism in the industry, is utterly irrelevant.”

Chiara threw her arms up in a very Italian manner.

“None of it matters. I have not been told why the tax authorities think I have not paid all my taxes. But I was told by one of the officials that they had received a tip-off. I hope that what I believe turns out to be false but based on the comments and the way the two of them are acting I would not be surprised that it is one or both of them that have made the tip-off. I work in two countries mostly, Italy and France, but I have worked in most of the rest of the main European countries. I give all the information to an accountant and let him sort it all out. It is a huge pain, and means that I can’t get to Martinique next week.”

She smiled and ran her hand over his chest.

“Although it has meant that I have you all to myself tonight. I don’t have to worry about Renee stabbing me when I am not looking.”

Andrew laughed.

“You laugh but we were joking about it the last time I was in Paris. We sat and drank too much wine and worked out a rota. Of course we both gave ourselves extra nights so we were back where we started. Some winter sun next week would have been wonderful.”

They cleaned up and Chiara fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. Nothing about the entire week could be described as arduous so far. And Friday did not change anything. It was a conveyor belt of outfits, carefully discarded before fun, passion and ravishing ensued. But it was bordering on formulaic. Yes, the products being emphasised were different, the clothes they wore and then stripped off were different but there are only a limited number of ways that you can discretely, yet elegantly ravish someone. There was a high backed armchair in the bedroom set which did allow some different moves as they were both blocked below the waist. At times, Andrew saw it was most noticeable in the 3^rd outfit for Chiara, it was as if he was performing the same dance moves. The way he approached her, the way he stripped her naked, but shielded her at the right moments, it was identical to the previous outfit. But Hermès was front and centre, Chiara was the star of the shoot and that is what they were wanting to capture. It was a fast paced day in the studio but it was not frantic and they got through all the shots. They both were going to the airport, Chiara was going to take the quick internal flight up to Milan, so they chatted on the way.

“After next week there is only more shoot for you, yes?”

Andrew nodded.

“In the summer?”

“July, after I graduate.”

“I will make sure that I get one of the days. It is strange to see someone walk away from all this. But I applaud your convictions. Two years ago work was starting to dry up for me. The industry was walking away from me. That is why I am working so much, so hard, right now. I have seen the end, tasted the bitter realisation that I was no longer in demand. I think it is too soon for you, but to do it on your own terms, when you decide, that is something to admire.”

Chiara might be a world class diva, but she was not a stupid woman. She knew what she was doing, extending her moment in the spotlight, creating an even brighter spotlight, but she also knew that it was still a ruthless game with a constant stream of new entrants. Even carving this new niche was not without competition. There were whole cohorts of older models who still wanted to work, to be seen as glamourous, to be desired. Eve was 31, Mathilde was now 37, Nina was 34 and Capucine was 39. Andrew had or was going to work with them all during these two weeks of modelling and they were all older than Chiara. She might have taken the one giant leap for older female models but she wasn’t getting to keep the rewards all to herself. Despite an evening of fucking, to ask her what she saw for her future seemed too intimate, too personal. It also was a longer conversation than 10 or 15 minutes in the back of a taxi on the way to Florence airport. They went their separate ways at the airport, the hug between them long and heartfelt.

He tuned the world out on the flight back up to Paris. Compared to many of his weeks of modelling the week had been easy. Thinking back, the shoots where they were naked in the studio seemed to be the more normal and relaxed parts of the week. Wandering around a couple of Italian cities with a beautiful model was hardly a challenge either. The most difficult, thought-provoking time was spent with the Hermès customers. That challenged Andrew’s understanding of what he was doing, how women perceived the nature of the commercials. There was a message for him at the front desk at the Monsart when he returned, asking him to call Heloise. The smile on his face was instinctive as he headed to his room.

“Hello Heloise?”

“Andrew, you got my message. Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“None at all Heloise, I am just back from Florence and dinner and bed is all I plan to do.”

There was a slight pause.

“Would you be okay if I came over tonight and we left together tomorrow?”

They were meeting at Hermès at 11.00 before heading to the airport.

“Of course. Do you want me to wait for you to get here before dinner, or have you already eaten?”

“I will not be long, I am packed already, so do you mind waiting?”

20 minutes later Andrew held Heloise in his arms. Guess who had not showered since Florence.

“Interesting perfume you have chosen to start wearing.”

He looked confused at Heloise’s comment.

“Did you hug Chiara before you left?”

The penny hit him. He really could blush at the most innocuous of things.

“Look at you, spending all day with a model in Italy before flying back to another model in Paris.”

“Be nice.”

Heloise giggled and took his hand as they waited for the lift.

“It is good to see you Andrew. It has been too long.”

It had been nearly a year. They wrote regularly, at least once a month, but he had not seen Heloise since the day after the bar fight in Courcheval. Heloise was more famous than Chiara, she was still at or near the top of the heap, the most famous model in France. So she had an excuse for moments of being a diva, but it was not her personality. Being famous and smiling as she dealt with people, that felt like a costume that she wore. In quiet moments like that night, Andrew knew he saw the real Heloise. Just as he never completely shook old Andrew, so Heloise still had the baggage of her awkward pre-teen and teenage years. She was a delight to spend time with.

“So I have some exciting news.”

They had ordered and were sitting alone in a booth at the back of the restaurant. He looked at her expectantly.

“I shot my first commercial where I had some dialogue last week.”

“That is great, did it go well?”

“Really well, at least I think so. I only fluffed my lines a couple of times and they had more comments to the other two people. We had to reshoot lots of parts but it was not me that was causing the issue. So I was not the worst person on the shoot.”

Andrew smiled, it was just like Army training. Don’t be the tallest nail. Let someone else get hit with the hammer.

“Do you think it will lead to more work? I presume you want to do more scenes where there is dialogue?”

“Yes, I would love to do more. It is never going to be my main focus. Just as I have skills and a body that are great to be a fashion model, I have to recognise that I have limitations when I am pretending to be a customer at a chemist or at a car showroom. But my fame, my renown, within the fashion world does open some doors. I am still taking acting lessons and it is nice to see that they have paid off. Not enough to cover the cost yet but I have had my first break. But I am still fully booked between fashion modelling and doing commercials with voiceovers.”

A shadow crossed her face.

“I even tried working with someone else, another male model, but I do not think it went very well. But a lot of that was in my head, he was not you. Do you know what the plan is for this week?”

Andrew shook his head.

“Hermès are leaving it to Veronique. They want the tropical island, the blue sea, the warm sandy beaches, all the reasons we are being sent there in December. Manon talked about doing something with a boat, actually I think she said a yacht. I think a lot of it is just filming a beach vacation but with beautiful women. Maybe jazz it up a bit, make it seem more sensual, carefree. I don’t know. I presume that Veronique will explain all this tomorrow or Sunday.”

“So there are no big set pieces?”

“Not that I have heard. Trying to do something on the water will probably be challenging enough.”

They continued to chat over dinner and when they were done there was no lingering over coffees or brandies in the bar. They went back up to his room, cleaned up for bed and both slipped naked under the covers. Heloise did not lie along him, but they continued to chat in bed.

“It should not feel so safe and comfortable to get into bed naked with a man, well one that I am not intimate with. But here I am. So many memories of lying in bed with you.”

“Do you still have your toys?”

Heloise blushed and nodded.

“It is embarrassing how often I have to buy batteries.”

They both laughed before Heloise’s expression turned wistful.

“Remember the night when Abi invited me into your bed and you lay there between us.”

She shook her head.

“And now Abi does not even mention you. I have stopped bringing you up as she is just dismissive. It seems such a change from where you were two years ago.”