Chapter 42

Book 3: Extremes

Nick woke spooned up against Kiki’s back, his forehead pressed against Pilar’s. He and his titular girlfriend were wrapped around his demimondaine like two halves of a pod cradling a pea. The two women had come to his room after midnight last night, waking him as they climbed into bed with him. Even if Pilar hadn’t hinted they might start without him, he would have known they had. Beyond what could be explained by the sexually-charged atmosphere of the palazzo, they came to him hot and ready, their hands and bodies on him before he came fully awake. For once, he was pleased to be awakened in the middle of the night and had no trouble falling asleep again afterwards.

The position of the sun in the sky suggested he’d overslept and the clock on his phone confirmed it. Tanvi should have come and woken him at eight. He texted her asking where she was.

She must have been in his sitting room because she stepped into the bedroom almost faster than she could have responded via text. “Good morning.”

“Yeah.” Nick muttered as both women in bed with him stirred. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Milan is having a heat emergency today. I took the liberty of arranging an alternate schedule that would allow you and your friends to stay in air conditioning as much as possible. The first event is at eleven. I thought I should let you sleep. Was I correct?” Tanvi asked.

“No.” muttered Kiki. “Why didn’t you use SSCS’s magic weather machine to make it nice out?”

“Because no such technology exists. But rest assured that once it does, SSCS will be on the list of interested buyers.” said Tanvi. “Kiki, you have a ten AM shoot. Pilar, your first shoot is at two.”

“Mmmm.” Pilar stretched, naked and glorious. “I should probably get down there sooner - see if Jazz could use a little help.”

“What about breakfast?” Nick asked.

“The kitchen is making breakfast available in your rooms. The courtyard seemed inhospitable when I crossed it at seven and it’s only gotten hotter and muggier since.” said Tanvi.

Nick thanked Tanvi, already typing a message to Lev. When he got the response, he turned to Pilar. “Lev and Arwen haven’t had breakfast yet. I thought I would invite them to join us.”

Pilar smiled. “I’d like that. We haven’t really had a chance to sit down with them since Friday night.”

Kiki sat up, smirking. “Time to plan your next swap?”

Nick shot Pilar a glance. Pilar said. “Arwen told her.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nick was relieved. “I’m fine with people knowing. I just figured the four of us should talk about ... well, everything before we started issuing press releases or anything.”

“I need to shower and get to my shoot.” Kiki leaned down and kissed each of them in turn. “If you decide to swap Kiki for a night, just let me know where to go and who to expect to find there.”

“We haven’t...” Nick started to protest, then protested instead. “It wasn’t really like that and I wouldn’t commit you to any kind of swap-type thing unless you told me to.”

“I know.” Kiki rose from the bed and looked back over her shoulder. “I’m telling you to. If you want to send me to Lev while you’re with Arwen some time ... or to Arwen while you bugger Lev instead, they both seem fun. I wouldn’t recommend you let Lev bugger you, though.”

Nick looked to Pilar, confused. Pilar was no help. “I agree. He would split you like an overripe peach.”

Once Kiki had disappeared into the bathroom, Nick asked. “She was serious. Wasn’t she?”

“I’m pretty sure Kiki never jokes about sex, but she was definitely serious about that.” Pilar put her arms around Nick’s neck and nuzzled up next to him. “You remember I told you she was helping me with my list last night? When she found out you take requests, she made her own list.”

Nick groaned. “That is both incredibly arousing and terrifying. What’s on her list?”

Pilar let out a low chuckle. “That’s not for me to say. I’m going to have a hard enough time getting through my own list tonight. If you want Kiki’s list, you’ll have to ask her. In the meantime, I should go get dressed for breakfast ... unless you think I should attend like this?”

Nick laughed. “Getting dressed will be fine.”

Pilar went to the closet, took down Nick’s robe, and wrapped it around herself. “Do you mind if I borrow this? Kiki and I didn’t bother getting dressed when we ran over her last night.”

“That ... must have been a sight.” Nick offered, the visual clear in his mind.

“It would have been if anyone had seen us, but it was late and we were right next door.” Pilar pointed out.

Nick rose to pull on some clothes. “Do you think of what we did as a ‘swap?’ It didn’t feel like that to me.”

“No. When I imagine being swapped, it’s a more formal arrangement, not just four people eye-fucking each other across a dance floor.” Pilar untucked her hair from the robe. “It might be easier to think about it in those terms going forward. If you always send Lev somebody when you’re with Arwen, he’s not sitting around thinking about you two together. He’s busy getting his knob waxed.”

Nick gave an uneasy laugh. “Has your language become cruder lately?”

Pilar laughed. “I think talking about my list last night broke something. And talking to Kiki about sex is, among other things, a vocabulary lesson. I had to stop her like a half dozen times last night and ask her what something meant. It was very educational.”

“Our Kiki is the gift that keeps on giving.” said Nick. “Do you think there’s a protocol for talking about her interest in being a part of ... this with Lev and Arwen?”

Pilar shook her head. “You’ve known them longer than I have. I expect my part of the conversation will be limited to saying ‘yes’ a lot: Yes, I enjoyed it. Yes, I’d be willing to do it again. Yes, I still love Nick. Did they say when they were coming over?”

“Once they got dressed,” said Nick.

“I really need to run, then.” Pilar leaned down and kissed him. “Kiss Kiki for me.”

Nick had just pulled on jeans and a t-shirt when Kiki emerged from the bathroom and went to the closet. “Where are all the robes?”

“I ... think Pilar just took the last one.” Nick said.

“Okay. Grab me a t-shirt or something, please.” Kiki requested.

Nick went to his chest of drawers. “Sure. Anything else I can get you?”

“Maybe. Is that apartment you offered me still available?” Kiki asked casually.

“The apartment ... in New York? At the Loft?” Nick asked, not sure he’d heard right, but Kiki nodded. “Not that one, no. Tanvi lives there now. But we’re building out more on the third floor. They should be ready by the time we get back. Why? Did you change your mind?”

“I ... expanded my mind.” said Kiki carefully. “Can I have an apartment?”

“Sure.” said Nick quickly before Kiki could change her mind again. “Take your pick when we get back.”

Kiki took the long t-shirt he’d retrieved from his hands and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask why you ... uh, expanded your mind?” Nick ventured.

“No. Kiki does things first, then talks about them.” said Kiki. “First I move in, then I see if it works or not. Then maybe you can ask why?”

Nick couldn’t help but smile at that. “Have you ever noticed that you refer to yourself in the third person at very specific times?”

“I don’t need to notice it. I’m the one doing it.” Kiki shimmied into the t-shirt. “It’s for other people to notice - a clue to the secret of Kiki.”

Nick would have loved to delve deeper into this conversation with Kiki, but they were both on tight schedules. “I look forward to learning more of your secrets, Kiki. Pilar says you’ve got a list I might be interested in?”

“You would be very interested in Kiki’s list.” Kiki purred. “All the wicked, naughty things Kiki wants from Nick. It’s probably a very long list.”

“And, would you be interested in presenting me with this list?” Nick suggested.

“No. The list is for Kiki to keep track of. That way, Nick never knows if he’s close to the end or if Kiki has been coming up with new things faster than he can do them to her.” Kiki leaned against the doorframe on the way to his sitting room. “Kiki’s not like Pilar.”

Nick shook his head, agreeing. “No. Kiki isn’t like anybody except Kiki.”

Kiki smiled at him like he’d gotten the right answer on a test, turned and left. Nick just shook his head. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it felt like a positive change. He doubted he’d understand it any better if he dwelled on it.

Instead, he called the kitchen to order breakfast for four and checked himself out in the full-length mirror. The jeans were new and fit well, the t-shirt a plain, black v-neck. Pilar had been trying to convince him that t-shirts were underwear, not meant to be worn in public. Nick had pointed out this was an odd position for someone who wore underwear in public for a living to take. He wore it today deliberately because the outfit looked as much like he used to dress as he could manage. He hoped it was a subtle way to de-emphasize the power imbalance at the table. If this new arrangement had a chance to work, everyone needed to feel like they wanted to be there, not that they had to.

Then, left to his own devices, he paced. He could feign coolness about all this as long as there was someone to feign it for. But the truth was that he was nervous as shit about things going well now. He’d imagined a million ways it could go wrong.

Naturally, Lev and Arwen arrived with the breakfast carts right behind them and Pilar nowhere in sight. The three of them sat at a round table set for four while the hotel’s waiters slowly transferred food from the carts to the table.

To make conversation, Nick said. “Pilar should be right back. She ... takes a while to get ready sometimes ... or always really.”

“I noticed.” said Lev. Then, realizing what he’d said, he blushed. Nick politely pretended not to notice, but Arwen snickered.

Nick made a point of carefully preparing coffee to avoid saying more. Never had a spoon of sugar been more carefully measured. Finally, the waiters made an orderly withdrawal. Nick decided he’d found a safe topic of pre-conversation. “Have you noticed that this place has like a ton of waiters?”

“I asked Rosangela about that.” said Lev. “She pointed out that everybody in livery actually has at least two or three jobs. Most of those waiters are also porters and ... whatever you call the people who were waiting outside when we arrived.”

“Bellhops?” Nick ventured.

“No.” Lev shook his head, then frowned. “Well, some of them were probably bellhops too since they brought our luggage up, but some of them just stood there to welcome us as we walked up.”

“So, greeters. Like at WalMart?” Arwen suggested.

“Not greeters. When the Queen of England pulls up in her carriage and those guys are lining the path, they’re not ‘the royal greeters.’” said Lev. “They have a title.”

“Footmen?” said Nick.

“Footmen!” Lev pointed at him. “That’s it.”

Silence fell over the table almost to the point where they would have to discuss the matter at hand when Arwen turned to Lev. “Why were you asking Aria Giovanni about the waiters?”

“I wanted to see if she could give a straight answer to a simple question.” said Lev. “She was being maddeningly vague about the Nazis.”

“All right. Why were you asking Aria Giovanni about the Nazis?” Arwen prompted.

“Can we not call her Aria Giovanni, please?” Nick asked. “I have to think pointing out that an employee looks like a particular porn star qualifies as sexual harassment.”

“In Italy?” Arwen asked. “Does Italy even have sexual harassment laws?”

“I don’t know.” Nick shook his head. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to say it in front of her, obviously.” said Arwen. “But, she has to know. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“Don’t be so sure you’re not saying it in front of her. I think SSCS employees are given ninja training. They can move really silently when they want to.” Nick looked past Arwen. “Isn’t that right, Rosangela?”

Arwen froze. “Please tell me she’s not behind me.”

Nick grinned. “She’s not behind you.”

Arwen turned to look behind her at the empty room, then spun back to Nick, one hand on her chest. “That was mean. I almost had a heart attack.” When Lev laughed, she glared at him. “You want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

“If we’re both in trouble, maybe I can sleep on Nick’s couch and Nick can sleep on my couch.” offered Lev.

Nick winced. Arwen winced. Lev watched them both carefully. After a long moment, Arwen looked behind her again, this time scanning the room until she found a particular piece of furniture. “Nick has a really nice couch. Maybe I’ll sleep on it and you two can keep each other company.”

Nick laughed. Lev laughed. The tension drained from the room. Nick looked across the table at two of his closest friends. There were so many things they should talk about, but it all came down to one question. When the laughter subsided, he asked quietly. “So, are we good?”

Lev and Arwen exchanged a look that Nick could almost read. Very seriously, Lev said. “I’m still planning to marry Arwen.”

Nick smiled. “I’m looking forward to it. Any idea who you might get for best man?”

That got a smirk from Lev. “I think Arwen wants you for maid of honor, actually.”

“I’d have to see the dress first.” deadpanned Nick.

“You’re putting Nick in a dress?” Pilar asked, sweeping into the room. “What did I miss?”

“My possible role in Lev and Arwen’s wedding.” said Nick. “I was just negotiating the dress code.”

Pilar sat and looked him up and down. “I assume they don’t want you wearing that.”

“Hey!” Nick protested, laughing. “You bought me these clothes.”

“Yes, but not to wear to weddings or dining with dear friends.” said Pilar. “You are going to change before you go out into the city. Aren’t you?”

Nick laughed and turned to Lev. “I should have warned you. She probably only slept with you so she could dress you up. I’m like her human Ken doll.”

Pilar poured herself coffee. “Neither one of you are Ken dolls, but you have to admit that Nick has been dressing much better since he let me replace his wardrobe.”

“Totally why I slept with him.” offered Arwen. “I would have done it years ago, but I was waiting for him to put a suit on.”

“So, no casual sex?” Lev asked.

Everyone groaned. Nick felt the last of the weight rise off of his chest. If they were joking and teasing each other over the situation, they were probably all right. It was the things they didn’t joke about that caused real problems.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” howled Rifkeh as the aesthetician tore another strip off her groin. “Goddamn, that hurt!”

“I don’t know why you trimmed yourself so short right before we did this. That just makes everything so much more painful.” said Alexis.

“A. I didn’t know we were doing this.” Rifkeh counted on her fingers. “And B. Shelby told me I should trim.”

“I didn’t say you should trim that short.” Shelby corrected her. “I just said it would be a very bold fashion statement if you chose to rock the natural girl look and started wearing clothes that drew attention to your hairy monkey parts.”

Rifkeh looked back and forth between the two girls, wiping an involuntary tear from the corner of her eye. The three of them were lying on tables set up in Lev’s living room, a team of Vietnamese aestheticians working to torture the hair off of them. “Tell me the truth. You two have some blood feud with Lev and you’re punishing me to get to him. Aren’t you?”

“We like Lev just fine.” said Alexis. “It’s his girlfriend who’s a little much.”

“Arwen’s a lot better away from Brownfield Mills. I think we all are.” Shelby winced as she was waxed, but kept talking. “She came by our apartment and invited me to the engagement party personally.”

“And she didn’t dump a bucket of pig’s blood on you?” Alexis asked. “Maybe you just failed to step in the trap.”

“I think she was just being super-nice.” said Shelby. “She can afford to be. She’s on top now.”

“I was really surprised when she greeted me by name the other week,” said Alexis. “I literally thought she believed my name was Malibu Dream House Barbie.”

“Still way better than what she called me.” Shelby laughed. “But Max came up with that one and I’ve already forgiven him. So I guess I can’t hold it against her anymore.”

“You called me Stretch.” Rifkeh pointed out. “I didn’t quite get the reference.”

“Just because you’re tall.” said Shelby. “How tall are you?”

Rifkeh was momentarily distracted by a Vietnamese woman again trying to rip all the skin off her groin. When the pain had passed. “Like one eighty, one eighty two depending on the time of day.”

“Is that some sort of Israeli measurement?” Alexis asked.

“It’s the ancient Israeli measurement known as centimeters, now used by everyone except Americans.” Rifkeh said.

Shelby laughed. “I knew you had some snark in you, Riv. We just needed to rip hair off your body for a while to bring it out.”

Rifkeh looked at her. “What is ‘snark?’”

“It’s ... how we talk to each other.” Shelby said. “Like being snarky? I don’t know if they use the word in Israel.”

“Oh. Like mean girls?” Rifkeh asked.

“We’re not...” Alexis started to argue, paused and amended her statement. “All right. We probably are mean girls, but we’re really nice mean girls.”

“Well, we’re trying to be nice.” Shelby added. “And Lexi was never really mean. Pretty much everybody liked her if they liked anybody.”

“Beck never liked me.” Alexis pointed out.

“Case in point. Beck never liked anyone including me. And I was his girlfriend” Shelby sighed. “Although he did finally call me to ask how I was and to tell me that Simon was bad news.”

“That’s so sweet.” said Alexis. “Your psychopath ex-boyfriend called to warn you that your current boyfriend is a sociopath.”

Shelby gestured towards Alexis and turned to Rifkeh. “That is snark.”

“Is Simon really a sociopath?” Rifkeh asked. “Should I be concerned?”

“I’m too close to tell.” admitted Shelby. “I think it’s way more complicated than that, but I didn’t really accept what a fuckhead Beck was until I was free of him.”

“He apologized to me actually.” Alexis said. “Simon, not Beck. Did you put him up to that?”

“I didn’t even know he did it.” admitted Shelby. “He’s been changing a lot since we’ve been in New York - I think maybe. It’s hard to tell. I’ve had such a weird dating history since I stopped letting you pick my boyfriends.”

“Consult me on the next one.” said Alexis sternly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Agreed Shelby.

“Your girlfriend picks your boyfriends. Isn’t that weird?” Rifkeh asked.

The answer to that question turned out to be a lot more complicated than Rifkeh had expected. The conversation about Shelby and Alexis’s relationships, friendship, and history lasted through the aestheticians declaring themselves done and continued into “champagne and Tylenol brunch.” They were almost done eating when Alexis turned to Rifkeh. “So, what’s your story? You know way more about us than we know about you.”

“I don’t know there’s that much to know about me.” said Rifkeh. “I was a farmgirl, joined the IDF when I turned eighteen, mustered out about eight months ago, and now I’m here.”

“Okay. Any boyfriends?” Alexis asked.

“Not currently.”

“Any girlfriends?” Shelby prompted.

“No. I don’t swing that way.” said Rifkeh. “No offense.”

“I don’t think either of us identify strongly enough with the having of girlfriends to judge if we should be offended by that.” said Alexis. “Have you had any boyfriends?”

“One, Hillel. We were in the IDF together and took an apartment when we mustered out.” said Rifkeh.

She would have left it at that, but Shelby and Alexis kept asking questions - all the way through breakfast and downstairs out into the street. They asked her questions as they shopped. Every time they stopped to try something on or critique something they’d tried on or buy something that met their approval, Rifkeh thought they’d finally stopped asking her questions about herself to focus on clothes shopping, but they never lost the thread of it. Rifkeh supposed she could have declined to answer their questions if they got too personal, but Shelby and Alexis were masters of accretive nosiness - each question only a tiny bit more invasive than the one before so that it seemed petty not to keep going.

By the time they got back to the Loft with their first round of purchases, Rifkeh had admitted that a big part of her desire to go to college in the US was fueled by a need to get away from Hillel with his weird descent into Orthodoxy and his right-wing politics. She’d also talked about her time on the kibbutz, the fact that she’d slept with about half the guys her own age who weren’t direct relatives and even her weird relationship at sixteen with an older married man. Hillel hadn’t even known that much.

As they rode back up in the elevator, Shelby said. “Let’s drop these off and get a car to take us up to Fifth Avenue. I saw some camisoles I bet you would look awesome in.”

Rifkeh had been balancing a half-dozen bags with limited success all the way back asked. “We had a car available?”

“Sure.” said Shelby. “But you don’t see as much of New York that way and you need to develop your shopping muscles, soldier. I could carry twice that many bags when I was sixteen.”

As Rifkeh was filling Lev’s closet with her new clothes, Alexis let herself in. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ll keep up.” said Rifkeh. “I used to hike twenty klicks with thirty kilos on my back.”

“I wasn’t asking about physical endurance.” Alexis sat on the bed. “Shelby’s my best friend, but I do know she can be a bit much sometimes.”

Rifkeh gave an uncertain smile. “When I showed up here on Thursday, I knew exactly one person in New York and he promptly flew off to Europe. I’m grateful that you two are spending time with me and ... honestly, I’m really glad to have somebody help me dress like an American. My whole life has been either hand-me-downs or uniforms. I do worry that Nick is going to be angry when he gets back, though. We spent a lot of money.”

Alexis laughed. “That I wouldn’t worry about. You called Lev and he told you Nick is okay with us clothes shopping. Nick knows Shelby is here. He wouldn’t have said that if he wasn’t ready to take a much bigger hit than what we’ve spent so far. My best advice is that you get as much for yourself as you can before Shelby finds something really expensive she has to have and puts us over the limit.”

“I’ll ... keep that in mind.” said Rifkeh. “I’m not sure I can stop myself at this point anyway. I swear Shelby can just sense when I’m looking at something and wanting it.”

“She does have a sort of specialized ESP.” said Alexis. As Rifkeh hung up the last thing and smacked her hands together in the international symbol for completing a job, Alexis added. “Actually, that’s my second-best advice. My best advice isn’t actually shopping related. It’s kind of ... meddling, though.”

“Worse meddling than you’ve already done?” Rifkeh asked without malice.

“Better, I think. It’s just ... something you should think about.” said Alexis.

“Okay. I’m listening.” Rifkeh leaned against the closet door, forcing it shut.

“You should look for a chance to stay here. It’s a unique opportunity that you will kick yourself for a long time if you don’t at least try.” said Alexis. “Nick’s building an organization here to change the world and right now, he’s bringing in people with no qualifications just because he can. I’m all set to go to Cornell next month and I’m still painfully tempted to try to stay on. What he’s doing here is going to be amazing and world-changing and a better education than you’d get going to most colleges. As Lev’s cousin, unless Lev doesn’t want you here, you’d be a shoe-in to join them.”

Rifkeh considered that for a half-second, then made a scoffing sound. “Sure. That’s a really good idea.”

Alexis tilted her head. “I can’t tell. Are you being sarcastic?”

“Not at all.” Rifkeh shook her head. “Coming to America is really a shot in the dark for me. I don’t know if I can get into college or afford it or make any use of it. I’m mostly here because it’s not there. Working with Lev and Nick and the rest of them is like a million times better than what I thought I’d end up doing here. I should definitely try that.”

When Pilar brought a pair of icy water bottles to the shade umbrella, Ceilidh took hers, ran it over her jaw and neck, and down her chest where she let it rest between her breasts, dripping cool condensation down her bare stomach. Pilar sat on the lounger behind her. “Lean forward.”

When Ceilidh did, Pilar ran her own water bottle over the other model’s shoulders and down her spine. Ceilidh started to say, “You don’t have to...” but ended with “ ... ever stop doing that if you don’t want to.”

Pilar smiled at her. “I’m sure you’d want me to stop eventually. Night will fall. The air will cool. Winter will come.”

Ceilidh looked back over her shoulder. “Talk dirty to me, baby. Snowballs and icicles. I don’t feel like I’ll ever stop being too hot right now.” As the photographer came over to check on them, she added. “That was the last one. Right?”

Stringer gestured to the stack of plastic boxes full of lingerie. “We’re still scheduled to shoot 38A and B up here today. Are you up for it?”

Ceilidh nodded and moved the bottle back up to her neck. “Yeah. All right. We’ll just need a refresh from hair and makeup.”

Stringer gave Pilar a concerned look. Pilar knew exactly what it was about. Ceilidh’s skin was flushed and her hair wilting by the minute. Worse, Pilar was pretty sure the fair-skinned young woman had stopped sweating. She laid her free hand on the other model’s shoulder. “No. That’s enough for today. By the time they get us to look like we’re not melting, we’ll have lost the light. I’ll let Jazz know.”

Stringer nodded and rose. “I’m going to pack up.”

After he’d stepped away, Ceilidh looked back at Pilar. “This is going to put us further behind schedule.”

“Weather trumps schedules.” Pilar kept cooling Ceilidh’s back with the water bottle.

For a while, they sat like that. Pilar would have liked to get inside. The wide umbrella over their heads kept off the worst of the sun, but the air was so heavy with moisture it felt like breathing soup. She was concerned that the walk across the roof to get downstairs again might be too much for Ceilidh if she didn’t cool down first.

“Jazz is so stressed out already.” said Ceilidh. “We’re all feeling it. Most of the girls here are in the business because she gave us a chance. We don’t want to let her down.”

Pilar drew the bottle away from Ceilidh’s back. “Sit back. Close your eyes.” When Ceilidh complied, Pilar cracked open the still-cold water and poured it slowly over the other model, starting with her head. Ceilidh tilted her head back and extended her tongue like she was catching rain in the desert. Pilar continued down, splashing water on Ceilidh’s chest and down to her stomach. The emerald green bra she was wearing wasn’t really meant to get wet, but considering how much the two of them had already been sweating up here, it hardly mattered.

Ceilidh arched her back as if she needed to catch the water a fraction of a second sooner and let out a moan that sounded more sexual than anything else. When Pilar’s bottle emptied out, Ceilidh slitted her eyes and offered her the other bottle.

Pilar laughed. “You drink that one. I’ll get more.” She rose and went to do so, but met Stringer’s assistant coming the other way, lugging the whole cooler full of water and half-melted ice over to them. He grunted. “Ethan said I should leave this with you two.”

“Thank you.” Pilar guided him to place it in the shade. When he’d done so and gone off to help pack up the photo gear, Pilar grabbed two more bottles, handed one to Ceilidh to replace the one the ginger woman had already emptied down her throat, and stood over her, pouring ice cold water over the rest of Ceilidh starting with her belly and working her way down one leg. When Ceilidh writhed to meet it this time, the sexual overtones were clearly deliberate, particularly when she kept her eyes open and met Pilar’s gaze.

Pilar resisted the instinct to look away. She knew Ceilidh only professionally, but theirs was a strange profession. They’d just spent the afternoon in garments designed to arouse, carefully positioning themselves to show how good their bodies looked together. They’d touched as intimately as any dance partners and, while it was typical for models to focus on the technical aspects of a shoot and leave the sensuality to the minds of the eventual viewers, getting swept up in the moment wasn’t unheard of. Usually when it happened, professionalism dictated everyone else on the set pay it no mind and wait for it to pass.