Chapter 1

The pictures were, according to the client, exemplary. That was the word from the swamp after we returned to the studio, proofed the pictures and sent the best prints back to the scene of the crime. I personally think he was pleased that anyone at the party had the attention span to do anything but mumble and pass out. I had to agree and was proud of the result.

The good feeling did not last.

We were home from the Low Country less than a week before my partner and office manager packed her things and took a powder while I was sweating in the darkroom. The note Sue left on her desk accused me of wasting time, money and talent instead of building a business she could grow into something that would support her in style. Apparently my former live-in girlfriend/photo assistant was seeing dollar signs and I was holding her back.

That was news to me! The apartment above the studio was well equipped. OK, it was an old tobacco warehouse in downtown Durham, NC, but it was huge and super solid. Newer commercial space would be cramped and cost ten times more. Worse yet, we would have to live elsewhere and commute to work everyday. Our SUV was respectable and we went out to eat or went clubbing several times a week. Everything, including the house, was paid in full. We were debt free and there was plenty in the bank. What more could anyone want?

A lot, if you were a girl named Sue.

In retrospect, things had been tense between us for a few months. However abrupt Sue’s departure was, at least she avoided an ugly confrontation. Maybe this was for the best. Emotionally, it hurt less than I thought it would. Practically, I was working my butt off and needed to get help with the details of operating the business.

The Saturday following Sue’s abrupt exodus, the office minutia was killing me. Bill this, pay that, file those, etc. The business had grown beyond what a normal person could do alone. Well, not more than a person could do, but more than a person could do who wanted to operate the office efficiently.

My accountant had a seizure the first time I sought advice filing my tax returns. “On time, Mr. Bailey, but you are paying way too much. This is a not your hobby. It is your profession and should not be treated the way you treat your personal income.” He made me go away until he could separate the tangle of numbers. The mess got straightened out and a filing system replaced my bucket of receipts, which Sue ended up learning a few years later. The filing system, not the bucket. The bucket became the ‘circular file’. He taught me enough to get by in an emergency. I mostly let them handle that side of the business without my interference. I still have the bucket.

Me in the office constituted an emergency of sorts. The stack of paper slowly got shorter but the need for help was obvious.

The soft chimes alerted me to a visitor at the door. I liked the old-fashioned tech but also installed a new fangled video camera over the peephole. I expected to see a walk-in customer or maybe even Sue Ellerbe having second thoughts about her choices, like I would let that partner-turned-gold-digger insinuate herself into my life again. Fat chance! Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice,...

This is where serendipity stepped up and stomped on my credulity.

On the monitor I saw a woman in a lightweight topcoat and sunglasses waiting outside. Not Sue. Relieved that she could be a potential customer, I welcomed her and escorted her to the office kitchenette. Strolling to the coat rack, she put the shades in a pocket and hung the coat before her big reveal.

Wearing exactly what she was wearing the last time we met barely a month ago, the young lady with girl-next-door face on a model’s body blinked her sad, melancholy eyes at me. I revised the estimate of her age downward. In the daylight, she looked closer to sixteen than twenty.

“I know you are wondering why I’m here, so I will start from the beginning.”

“All stories start at the beginning. Answer me this: exactly how old are you and does the aftermath of that memorable weekend where we became acquainted have anything to do with you appearing at my door unannounced?”

“I’m half past sixteen and past the age of consent. Courtesy of my doctor, I’ve been on the pill for over a year, which would scandalize my ultra-conservative parents.” She giggled softly. “I’m here because we had sex, but not directly because of you.”

“And?”

“Although we have certainly become memorably familiar, we were never properly introduced. The people at the concert told me you were Dan Bailey of Bailey Photo Services, Durham, NC. I found you on the Internet. I’m Molly Cartwright, recently of Point Romain, SC.” She finally let a small smile peek out.

“Cool. You can call me Dan, the quite familiar guy pleased to find out your actual name, Molly Cartwright. What circumstance brings you to my door? I imagined you breaking hearts and shattering dreams all over the Low Country.”

“It didn’t happen that way.” She sighed and the sadness returned. “When the dance party ended, the guy wanting to hook up with me that night turned out to be a dumb jerk. He was arrested for public intoxication before we got back to town, and tried to beat up a cop. The officer took it personal and Bubba McIntyre will pull major time when he is discharged from the hospital. The police impounded the car and left me beside the road. I walked the last four miles. Unbeknown to me, he was out on bail, awaiting trial for DUI manslaughter in Spartanburg.”

“Yikes. Sorry the evening turned out that way. I’m glad you dodged that bullet but, again, what brought you here?”

“Buses and trains. It was all I could afford. My hateful parents would have reported my car stolen just for spite if I drove.” For the next hour, she told an amazing story. The week following her ‘debut’, Molly had her regular twice-yearly doctor’s appointment. “The nurse’s aide/receptionist spread the rumor that I, the no longer virginal deacon’s daughter, must be a shameless harlot, her words. Only crazy bible thumpers talk like that. Really mean bible thumpers snoop through a girl’s medical files and make private information public. The doctor, the picture of non-judgmental discretion herself, fired the nosy loudmouth but the damage was done. My folks heard the gossip, took away my college fund and threw me out on the street.”

While her parents were at church, Molly spirited some clothes, toiletries and her phone from her former home, accepted money offered by the small circle of girlfriends with whom she had been staying, and began an epic journey to Durham.

“The only girl who knew the whole story was my best friend, Barbie. Anyway, the bus to Columbia took forever. The other passengers were not the best of company and the toilet was clogged up. That did not seem to bother anyone much, the driver least of all.”

The saga got better as she rambled. I saved the obvious and not so obvious ‘Barbie’ questions for later.

“Amtrak from Columbia to Charlotte takes more than fifteen hours, but the seats are better. Of course, it was louder and the windows were stuck closed, making the inadequate air conditioning even less appealing. Too much humidity and not enough personal hygiene turn fifteen hours into eternity. The more aromatic passengers made hitchhiking sound attractive.”

Molly changed into her ‘party suit’ in Charlotte, thinking it would jog my memory. I assured her it wasn’t necessary. “I would recognize those lovely eyes in the dark, Molly.”

“Wish I had known that before.”

“Trust me, I always remember the girls whose cherries I pop while dancing in a crowd. Sorry to sound a little indelicate, but we did fuck standing there listening to the music.”

“I was virtually naked in public, getting screwed for the first time by a stranger. I don’t think there is a delicate way to say it. Anyway, I changed into this outfit in the ladies room at the station in Charlotte. A few hours later, my suitcase disappeared when the train pulled into Greensboro while I was in the little girl’s room, adjusting my top for the millionth time. I should have taken it with me but I was distracted. According to the conductor, the thief probably debarked, blending into the crowd on the platform. All I have left is my purse, wallet and ID, the phone, this tiny skirt, a belt, and this scarf I use for a top. That’s it. Oh. And the sandals.”

Molly grinned and blushed. “The AC on the new train worked too well. Everyone knew I was naked under the thin scarf. The evidence was right in front of their eyes. Do you realize how difficult it is to sit in this super short skirt with no panties? Let’s just say the seat cushions were icy cold against my bare bottom and my twat was out for all to see! If not for my purse covering the goods, I could have been arrested for indecent exposure. A lady at the station here in town gave me the coat for just that reason.”

“And you would have been guilty as charged. That silk scarf is almost transparent in bright light. I already know what is under the skirt.” It was my turn to laugh. “Where do we go from here?”

“I hoped you would let me stay here long enough to get my transcripts and apply to one of the local universities. I skipped the ninth and eleventh grades. I made ‘A’s all the way through school. I could accept either of the scholarships I won and go to South Carolina or Clemson, but both are too close to what was home.”

“Worry about school when we see what the your options are. First, you’ll stay here as long as you want. I have extra space in my apartment upstairs. You can clean up and I’ll find something for you to wear while we go shopping. We have several upscale malls and a ton of specialty boutiques minutes from the door.”

“Are you saying I need a shower? You are probably right. I haven’t had a bath since I left Point Romain. Lord only knows what I smell like.” She’s good-natured about it. “My nose is numb.”

“Let’s call it a precaution, a preemptive measure. You have, by your own admission, been in confined spaces with malodorous people. Towels and soapy stuff are in the closet by the door. You will find a new toothbrush in the vanity. Use whatever you need.”

“About the clothes, you’re a lot bigger than me. Are you sure this will work?”

“I have some old Speedo-type swim trunks that will be loose on you. Don’t ask, OK? A pair of those and a worn football jersey ought to let you get by with a minimum of attention. Do you want a snack before we go out?”

“Something edible would be nice for a change. What’s up with the old Speedos? You don’t look like the type.”

“You weren’t supposed to ask. Since you did anyway, I’m not the type. My former partner attempted a makeover. Didn’t take. She’s gone. The unused pants are in my spares box.” I laughed. “I can’t be who she wanted me to be.”

“Spares?”

“Extra clothes if a model needs something. I do some shoots in house.”

“OK. With or without the questionable swimwear, where is the shower?” Molly grimaced. “I am beginning to get my nose back and it doesn’t like me.”

“Go up the back stairs. The bathroom is connected to my bedroom across the big room, on the left. The towels are just inside. You can’t run out of hot water.” I pointed to the rear of the studio. “I’ll lock up and find you something to wear when we go out.”

Molly went upstairs to scrape off the travel dirt. I locked up after coming to a reasonable stopping place in the office. Maybe the Hanna wouldn’t shoot me on sight. I can hope.

Upstairs, my flashback visitor had the shower going full blast with the door wide open. The scented body soap smelled like sandalwood, the same as the incense used by the stoners to mask the pot aroma in the dorm. Never occurred to them that if the RA knew what was going on whenever he got a snoot full of Calcutta’s finest. I never liked it but kept my mouth closed. Sue thought it was exotic. Molly needed to go shopping for anything else.

The blue Speedo-esque shorts were buried in the bottom of my ‘spares’ box. The other stuff I found to be either inappropriate for a girl on the edge of seventeen outdoors or lingerie/bedwear for boudoir portraits. My best ‘catalogue’ clients sold kids’ clothes, hardware and bass boats. I did not have a Boston Whaler or a Grady-White lying around the studio. It probably wouldn’t fit if I did.

When the time was right, inappropriate clothing will become appropriate. She did wear a semi-sheer silk scarf as a top and managed to get her cherry popped by a stranger. Plus, she changed into the same clothes she was wearing when we fucked prior to her arrival at my door, so her personal comfort zone was expanding rapidly.

The available tops were a scruffy Duke football jersey and a thin Durham Bulls baseball pullover. The open mesh NC State basketball cover covered nothing, but it was her choice.

Molly is perhaps 5’9” and fashion plate willowy, maybe 34(B)-22-32 and 115 pounds. I am 6’5”, built like a distance runner, weighing 195 or so. The football jersey was a touch long on me but might pass for a short dress on her. The baseball shirt was probably too short to be worn alone and the net basketball jersey was transparent, no matter how long!

Several minutes after her shower stopped, I heard frustrated sounds coming through the open door. “Darn it. This scrap will never do!”

“You called? Need something else?” Perhaps ten seconds passed before I got an answer.

Her very red face peeped around the doorframe. “Yes. You might say that. This thing is too small to do much more than dry my hands. I need two, bigger towels, one for my hair and one for me.”

“I hope there are more and may I use them?” She came through the door stark naked leaving, wet footprints on the floor. The attempt to cover her twat and boobs with the wet cloth was a resounding failure. My surprise visitor was full of surprises. “I was so eager to get clean, I goofed up.”

“Lots of sizes, still in the closet by the door. Wait. I’ll get them for you.” Looking at her feet, I grinned. “The floor is waterproof but, like you, slippery when wet.”

“Sorry, Dan. I thought being naked in front of you would be easier.” Molly fidgeted nervously while I tossed her the bath towels. “I already gave you my cherry and let you play with my titties, both firsts by the way. I ought to pull up my big girl panties and act like a grownup.”

“Lucky for me you have no dainties, big girl or otherwise, to pull up. Honestly, I prefer you without. Lingerie, no matter how wonderful, would hide your sweet body and limit access to those beautiful perfect boobs and that tight ass.” I smiled sympathetically. “You look good naked.”

“Thank you, I think.” Molly went from pink to scarlet but didn’t cover her body or shy away from the older man’s blatant attention.

“When you’re dry enough, choose whatever makes you happy from the stuff I put on the bed behind me. Put your dirty clothes in the laundry room hamper and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll make a snack to tide us over until supper.”

At my parents’ home in Charlotte, I have two sisters, Debbie and Dawn, 15 and 16, respectively. Just buying one new blouse takes all day. Back-to-school shopping was extended insanity. Based on experience, the afternoon’s expedition for a homeless teen with nothing at all promised to be an epic siege. She will require lotions, potions, notions, soaps, shampoos, pants, shorts, dresses, skirts, shirts, blouses, the dreaded dainties, socks, sportswear, sneakers, flats, heels and all the odds and ends I’ve forgotten. The whole retail universe, pharmacies, department stores, boutiques and shoe shops were our targets. Target, too, plus Nordstrom, Walmart and Trader Joe’s would become our friends.

Thursday, July 5th meant that the stores were having holiday sales and would be packed solid. Today an empty stomach was not an option.

I toasted some roast beef with provolone on whole wheat bread. The sandwiches looked lonely on the plates, so I added some sweet potato chips, heated baked beans and a couple of cokes. Not bad for a twenty-five year old, recently deserted, single guy. Not great, I’ll admit, but not too shabby for a spur of the moment lunch.

As I placed the food on the bar separating the kitchen from the living area, Molly strolled up. Wonder of wonders! She had chosen the basketball jersey only. Commando. No shorts. Then I realized how dim the lights were in the sleeping end of the big room compared to the kitchen end. Maybe she didn’t know that she was as good as naked in that mesh jersey. Maybe she did. I kept my ruminations to myself.

She sat on the offered stool and chowed down to the first palatable meal she had seen in days. “Dan. This is so tasty. Did you roast the tenderloin?”

“Actually, yes. It’s the only way to get it the way I like. But you have been surviving on train or bus station food since you left Point Romain.” I laughed. “Your opinion might be biased.”

“Not so, I promise you. This is truly good. Is there enough left to have more of everything?”

“Sure, unbiased famished person that you are. Beans are in the oven and the rest of the chips are in the sack. Have half of my sandwich. Knock yourself out. I had breakfast this morning from Biscuitville, so half an RB with sides is enough for me.” I grinned my most innocent grin. “I’ll slip into something clean and we can hit the shops.”

“Thanks. I think I’m starved. As for the shops, Dan, I don’t need that much right now. It’s OK if we just go to a big box and a drug store. A couple changes and some toiletries will be plenty for a day or two.” She shrugged. “We can make a list when I see what the choices are.”

“In Durham, your choices are unlimited. You can’t throw a dead cat without hitting a major university. That means thousands of smart students from everywhere in the world searching for the best. Upscale malls, department stores and specialty boutiques are everywhere. I guess we can start at Target and CVS, but you’ll find the little shops more fashionable.” I smiled at her, paying obvious attention to the exposed girly parts. “When you’re ready to face the world, meet me downstairs in the office.”

After quick shave and shower, I threw on a pair of boxers, cotton shorts, a polo shirt and sneakers. Remembering to get my wallet and keys, I killed time near the front door, anticipating the unveiled girl. I was not disappointed.

Molly bounced down the stairs, clearly naked under the basketball jersey. She was breathtakingly cute. However, this was risqué, possibly approaching scandalous, even in Durham. While toplessness is technically legal in North Carolina, there are jurisdictions where people might object loudly. Only bluenoses complain at the beach, but malls in the middle of the state are not the beach.

“Are you ready to face the city?”

“Not really, Dan. If we’re going, let’s get it done. I’m kinda winding down.” Molly answered. “Tomorrow would be just as good. Probably better.”

“Works for me. Tomorrow it is.” I didn’t have to ask her to dress to go out. “We’ll cook some steaks and have a tossed salad and baked potatoes for supper. I have a patio set-up on the roof, wooden floor, chaise lounges, chairs, café table and charcoal grill. We can hang out and relax for a few hours in the sun until time to start the coals.”

“Cool. Is it private enough up there to take a nap?”

“The building has a flat roof with a six foot, crenellated brick wall around the edge. It’s probably decorative. I think they did it that way because that was the way things were done a hundred and thirty years ago.” I elaborated a bit. “None of the buildings near us have windows pointed this way. It’s as private as a rooftop downtown can be. So, yes, you may nap in safety. I even have foam cushions so you aren’t laying on a hard surface.”

“Which part is six feet?” OK, I knew she was smart.

“The embrasures are six feet up from the floor and the merlons are nine feet tall, three feet apart. The wall is three feet thick” She still had a curious smile. Damn. I added the rest. “The wooden walkway rotted away after we repelled the Visigoths.”

“Bullet proof. Sounds wonderful. Can we go now?”

“You collect some beach towels and sunscreen from the linen closet. I’ll set the steaks out and get water, a laptop and our phones. The stairway to the roof patio is across from the guestroom, which is next to the kitchen. The meat will take hours to thaw so you have lots of time to chat, snooze or just decompress. We can plan your shopping trip on my traveling laptop.”

“Will we be up there long enough to need sunscreen?”

“Yes. You especially, dear.” I laughed. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror since we sat down for lunch?”

“No. I just threw on this basketball jersey. I like how baggy and comfortable it is.”

“You’re fairly pale for girl who lives at the coast, and that jersey is no protection at all.” The urge to smirk was irresistible. “Even though you made sure I got a good long look, I don’t remember seeing tan lines then and I don’t see any now.”

“There are none to see. Sunbathing is not a Cartwright Family pastime. If they thought I had tan lines, my parents would be mortified. The scraps I wore at the band concert would have caused aneurysms.”

“When they threw you out, they threw out their right to enforce an opinion.” I grinned my best leer. “Anyway, I use a big mirror to reflect light when I shoot pictures up there. It’s in the shed with the charcoal and the cushions. You’ll want to check yourself for redness.”

Eventually we made it to the roof.

“Welcome to Bailey’s Beach, located high above the heart of Downtown Durham.” I pointed out the amenities like a game show announcer. “To the right, on the other side of the Incredibly Convenient Kiddie Pool, is the aforementioned Storage Shed containing all the Creature Comforts required for a Successful Day in the Outdoors. Ahead is the Spacious Picnic and Grilling Zone where the comfortable creatures dine in tasteful elegance. The six-person Year Round Spa is across the Elevated Savanna. Let’s get the mats and chaise lounges from the shed and live lives of lazy leisure for a few hours.”