Chapter 19: The photo shoot

Chase called me early on Sunday morning, wanting to meet with me. He said he had some ideas about our business venture that he wanted to bounce off of me. I invited him to come to my apartment, and from the impression he gave me, that had been his intention.

Victor called, wanting to know if there had been a decision on the Omaha building. I told him it was up in the air. "Don't worry, we'll find a job for you next summer," I said.

"We didn't finish cleaning your apartment yesterday," he said.

"It looks spotless to me. The bed was changed and the laundry was done."

"Gladys wanted to clean your refrigerator, but we didn't know what time you were coming back."

"Can't the refrigerator wait until next weekend?" I teased, knowing the real reason he wanted access to the apartment.

"It won't take more than a couple of hours, Sammy." Victor sounded desperate.

Remembering that Kelley was coming next weekend, I took pity on him. "Okay, we'll go out to lunch from twelve until two," I said.

"Thanks, Sammy," he said, sounding truly grateful.

When Chase arrived, I gave him the news. "Victor's bringing his girlfriend by to do some cleaning. I told him we will be out from twelve until two."

Chase, who knew nothing of my arrangement with Victor, looked alarmed, like the loss of two hours study time would ruin his day.

"My place is no good," he said. "I share a two bedroom house with two guys. We take turns on the couch and this is my month."

"They were here yesterday, but had to cut their lovemaking time short because they didn't know what time I would be back. I feel responsible. Victor works at the cabinet shop on Saturdays. If I had thought to tell them, they could have had the place until ten P M."

We were taking our seats at one of the folding tables. Chase digested the information I had dispensed. He glanced at me as he removed his notebooks from a worn satchel. I noticed that one of the notebooks was labeled Business Management and the other one read Applied Business Theories, the two classes we had together.

"We'll walk down the street to the cafe and have lunch," I said, and received no reaction from Chase. He reminded me of Greg Dustin, the senior who had taken an interest in me the year I went home as a sophomore. Like Greg, Chase was engaging.

At his suggestion, we started the session with Business Management. I had been elected chairman of the small group, but I could see that he wanted to participate as if we were co-chairmen. I suppose it was self-interest. We would be graded as a group; he wanted to make sure it was an A that we received. He employed a mild-mannered approach to glean the best efforts from everyone he came in contact with. I had the feeling that he was putting my talents to use without my knowledge.

I gave him a progress report of the individual meetings I'd had with each member. Kalian would need constant attention as she was still vague on her assignment. Megan was no problem; we had an understanding as to how she would advise the company to organize their sales department. Casey and Gifford took their work seriously, and were progressing nicely. Chase handed me a paper he had written on marketing the company's product. I let him read my paper on real estate and equipment acquisition.

"May I make some comments in the margin?" he asked. I told him to go ahead. When I saw him using a red pen, I took the liberty of critiquing his paper, too.

We discussed the case further. I had some definite plans as to how I wanted our group to proceed. He raised some mild objections to my approach, but readily accepted my position once he heard my reasoning.

We quickly wrapped up our discussion of the case when we heard Victor's boots stomping on the landing before putting his key in the lock.

Gladys had been coming to the apartment with Victor since the beginning of school this year, but this was only the second time I'd been there. She took off her coat, and I saw that she hadn't changed. Her body was thin, nimble, and well proportioned, the same as I remembered from the year before. She and Victor grinned nervously when I introduced them to Chase.

She was already removing everything from the refrigerator when we went out the door. Victor was behind her, pretending to help. I wondered how long it would be before he threw her down on one of the air mattresses.

On our way to the diner, Chase pressed me to encourage Megan to pose for a photo of her being measured for a hip hugger. I couldn't tell him the reason she had left the apartment before I woke up that morning. After coming so close to breaking our most important rule, I doubted if she would ever stay the night with me again.

I couldn't tell him about her boyfriend breaking up with her either. Chase was under the impression that I was her boyfriend. Anyway, he wouldn't believe anyone could be so stupid as to end a relationship with Megan. I didn't believe it myself, and I'd listened to the conversation between them.

"I'll talk to her," I said, making no promises that I would be successful.

"Make it soon. I can have a photographer here within hours after you give me the word," Chase said.

"Perhaps we should consider a back-up model, like one of the girls in our group," I suggested.

Chase winced. "We'd be wasting the intrigue you and Megan generated the other night. I want the flyer to scream: 'Measuring your girlfriend's tummy will be rewarding!'"

Once we entered the café, he dropped the discussion of the photo, and concentrated his attention on me. The café was crowded, mainly with townspeople, and very few students from the college.

"Don't tell me that there's no history between you and that girl," he said as we took our seats.

"Gladys? She cleans the apartment, does my laundry, and changes my bed. It's a trade-off. I let them use my apartment when I'm not there."

He let it rest while we placed our order for sandwiches and coffee.

"That's one hell of a trade-off. You always come out ahead, don't you?"

"Not at all, I offer to pay her, but she refuses to take money from me."

"That kid seems to hold you in high regard."

"Victor's grateful. Where else is a nineteen year old guy going to take his twenty-nine year old girlfriend in this town?"

"You're generous, too. Is it true that you gave him the desk business you started a couple of years ago?"

Why was he being so inquisitive? Where was he taking this? I nodded, to confirm that I'd let Victor take over the study-table business.

I guess Chase could see that his questions were making me cautious.

"Call me Mac," he said, just as the waitress brought our order. He waited until she walked away before adding, "Not in public, only when we're together."

I watched him stir his coffee, dumbfounded. Why was he telling me to call him Mac, but not in public? Was he trying to buddy up to me, or was he angling to gain my confidence? What did he want from me? If it was about Megan, he could forget it. If he wanted to know about Gladys, I might be persuaded to tell him that he was out of the running. She had chosen Victor Dunning as a bedmate because he was young and would be here longer than a senior would be.

He put his spoon down, and looked at me before adding, "It's a nickname I picked up in high school. My friends knew I didn't want to be called by my first name, so they used my initials to form Mac."

"What do they stand for?" I asked the obvious.

Neither of us had looked at our sandwiches. I took a sip of coffee, waiting to see if he would respond to my question.

"This is between us?" he asked.

"You can call me Sammy," I said, grinning to show that I was on board with his demand that I not divulge his first name to anyone else.

Melville August Chase. My mom teaches literature. She's a Herman Melville disciple."

"Mac," I said, letting it roll off my lips. "What if I slip up and call you Mac when others are around?"

"You won't," he said, decisively, picking up half of his sandwich.

"I'm surprised your mom didn't name you Ahab," I mused.

"She wanted to, but my dad put his foot down."

"What does your dad do?"

"He's a pharmacist. He used to own a couple of stores, but he sold out to a chain and works for them now. I'm going to sell pharmaceuticals," he volunteered.

I was on a roll. He was answering all my questions. "Does August carry some significance?"

"It's the month I was conceived," he said.

I still hadn't touched my sandwich. I counted the months on my fingers. "Is your birthday in May?"

"No, I was conceived on the first day of August and born on the last day of April."

"You must be an only child," I proposed.

"What made you come to that conclusion?" he asked, adding, "You're right by the way."

"I sense a closeness to your parents that is rare. I've witnessed that same closeness to their parents in some of my friends who don't have siblings."

"Are you an only child?"

Wow, this was going way too fast. Had he been forthcoming with me in order to get me to open up about myself? "I have a half-sister."

He'd turned the tables. I found myself answering his questions. I even told him that I'd been adopted, but stopped short of even mentioning the burr. I was skeptical. He would have freaked out if I told him the reason for my nickname when I was a high school sophomore. 'Apple' was the type of thing I shared with girlfriends in the middle of the night.

We finished our lunch, and continued to sit at the table long after the other diners had vacated the café. It was nearing two P M.

"I have a friend you should meet. Zelda's dad is a professor of literature. I believe she's an only child," I said as we walked back to the apartment.

Chase (I couldn't bring myself to think of him as Mac) showed no interest in meeting Zelda, so I dropped it.

Victor and Gladys had cleared out of the apartment. Even the air mattress had been deflated and stored in a closet.

Chase wanted to write the instructions for the 'How to measure your girlfriend for a hip hugger' flyers. I wasn't confident that we would have a model, but I helped him with the description.

We decided which members of our team would get the six hip hugger samples we had coming and how many measuring tapes we would ask Aunt Olivia to order for us.

It was getting dark when he left. "Thanks, Sammy, this has been a productive day," he said as we shook hands.

I called Kelley. She already had her flight schedule. I was gratified to hear that she would arrive on Friday afternoon. "I'm looking forward to your party," she said. I avoided saying anything about what had happened between Megan and me the night before. I promised myself that I would tell her everything while she was here over the weekend.

Marcie was not as easy to fool. It was almost like she already knew about my date with Megan, and what had taken place later. She was cagey about drawing it out of me though.

"How was your trip to Omaha?" she began.

"The best description I can give the feeling that came over me was that it was a mighty force. There's no explanation for it. I still don't know where the force came from."

"What are you telling me, Sammy? You're talking in riddles."

"That building is a mistake. I don't know if it's built on sacred ground or if it's haunted. All I know is that we would be a asking for trouble if we bought it."

"You frighten me sometimes," she said. The way she said it, offhandedly, yet sincere, made me laugh.

"I think you believe me. You just don't want to admit it."

"I never doubt you."

"I almost got into a little trouble last night," I said, changing the subject.

"What did you do, almost sit on a burr?"

"We had a fantastic date. When Megan picked me up at the airport she was wearing a red coat. We came to the apartment for me to change clothes. She called Stella's, and then she helped me pick out a turtleneck shirt to wear with my blazer.

"I'm telling you, Marcie, the date couldn't have gone any better. Megan was beautiful and she was funny. I found out later that she had shaved her legs, especially for..."

"WHAT?" Marcie screamed.

"I'm getting ahead of myself. After we got back to the apartment I suggested that we go for a run. Megan pulled something in her upper thigh and..."

"I don't want to hear any more. I know just what she pulled. I can tell you exactly what happened."

"Okay, what happened?"

"She pulled something that required a massage. How am I doing so far?"

"She showered, and then I showered. She gave me some lotion and told me where the pull was.

Marcie sighed. "Oh, Sammy, I see where this is leading. She just happened to have soothing lotion with her. Where was the pull? Don't tell me. It was high on her thigh, wasn't it?"

"You don't understand, Marcie. You make it sound like she'd brought the lotion because she'd planned the massage. Yes, the pull was high, but it was real."

"I feel cheated. I had to settle for a back rub. Did you start with her feet, and recite The Sick Child?"

"No," I answered, regretting that I'd told her about our date.

"Was it good?"

"Was what good?"

"You've been on the verge of having sex for months. I don't need to hear how close you massaged to her panties. I don't want to hear how you had her panting with desire, and how she opened her legs, invitingly. All I'm asking is if it was as good as you thought it would be?"

"We didn't do it," I said, determined to not tell her more. She didn't deserve to hear how I'd told Megan that I couldn't take any more, and how she'd agreed that she couldn't take any more either.

"You didn't?" Marcie asked.

"There was a telephone call saying Megan's boyfriend was looking for her. We called him back and found that he was breaking up with her."

"Oh, my," Marcie said, no longer interested in how close we came to having sex. She asked me to tell Megan how sorry she was, and we said goodbye.

It wasn't like me to withhold information from Marcie. As far as she knew, Megan had been wearing panties the entire time. I didn't tell her how the towel had slipped down, revealing her breasts, or how she lost the towel on her way to get her diaphragm. I didn't tell Marcie how I'd watched Megan squat to search for her diaphragm, or how I'd lost my erection when the telephone rang.

I didn't tell Marcie how I'd held Megan, pulled her top lip out and released it, over and over, to calm her down. I didn't tell Marcie how Megan had sat on my lap while she spoke to Mel or how I'd later put her to sleep by pulling her upper lip out and releasing it.

Marcie hadn't asked if I'd told Kelley about our date, the massage, and how close we'd come to having sex.

Somehow, I knew there would be follow-up questions the next time we talked. I also knew that she would be prepared with questions, which I would answer in detail.

I didn't see or hear from Megan until Monday at lunchtime. She was reticent, obviously too embarrassed to discuss what had happened between us on Saturday night. She did look at me adoringly.

"Have you given thought to posing for the hip hugger flyers?" I asked.

Casey and Kalian were looking on, but they didn't try to sway her one way or the other.

"Everyone will know it's me," she commented. That's all it was, a non-judgmental comment.

"That's what Chase wants. He says we'll capitalize on the show we put on last Tuesday. Everyone on campus heard about it, and when they see the scar on my cheek, they'll know it's your tummy. We won't show your face. Chase wants to create mystique."

"I don't know, Sammy. Do you want me to do it?"

"Only if you want to," I said, giving Megan the option to decline.

"Okay, I'll do it," she said.

I looked at her, closely, to make sure she was comfortable with her decision. Her smile told me everything I needed to know.

"Thanks, Megan; I'll give Chase the good news."

I walked her to her next class, and left the campus. There was a note on my door, saying an insured package had been left downstairs at the dress shop. I opened the package, and showed Aunt Olivia the hip huggers. She gave me a dozen measuring tapes that we had ordered. That purchase depleted the balance of the funds in our account.

Upstairs, there was a message from Sharon giving me a phone number for the rental car company. "I hope a Chevrolet Lumina will be satisfactory. It's the best I could do on short notice."

I called the rental car company and gave them my address. They said they would deliver the car within the hour.

Next, I called Chase's number. I knew he would be in class, but hoped I could leave a message. One of his roommates answered. "Please tell Chase that our model is on board," I said.

Two people delivered the Lumina. The male handed me the paperwork and the keys. A young female got out of the second car, and watched me sign for the rental. It was light grey in color and had less than twenty-five thousand miles on the odometer.

"When will your car be back from repair, Mr. Oldham?" the male asked.

"I don't know. It may take a couple of weeks for the shop to find the parts," I answered.

"What brand of car is it?" the female inquired. She had bleached blond hair, and appeared to have a nice figure under her coat. I would have guessed that she was twenty-five. Gloves hid her ring finger, but from the way she was surveying me, she was single.

I noticed the male looking at her, critically.

"It's a Mercedes," I said without being specific about the age or model.

She looked impressed. "We don't have a Mercedes, but we may be able to find something more to your liking," she offered, handing me her business card.

"Thank you ... ah ... Caroline," I said, looking at the card, "But this one will suit me fine for the short time I'll need it."

"Call me if you change your mind or if I can do anything else for you," she said, smiling as she joined the male in the second car. I smiled and waved to them as they drove away.

I backed the rental car into my usual parking space, and noticed a stench of cigarette smoke that lingered. Oh well, I only needed it to pick up Kelley at the airport on Friday and deliver her back there on Sunday.

Friday was five days off, and I was horny. I let Caroline's words, 'call me if you change your mind or if I can do anything else for you, ' occupy that little fantasy box in my mind for a couple of seconds.

Chase called as soon as he heard the news that Megan was going to be our model. He was ecstatic. "I knew you could convince her to do it. I wish I had your way with women. What's her number?"

"Why do you need her number? I told you she's going to do it."

"I need to talk to her about what she'll wear."

"You'll see her here tomorrow night," I said, still not giving him Megan's phone number.

"I want to set the photo session up for tomorrow night at your place."

"How much is he going to charge?" I asked. Considering that my position in the company was Executive Vice President, in charge of acquisitions and expenditures, I reasoned that I had the right to know where the funds were being dispersed.

"It's a she, and she's aware that we don't have any money to pay her. But she buys into the project and is willing to wait."

"Mac, how much is she going to charge?"

"You said you were going to order a bracelet for Megan. That's a sure sale. She's going to do the complete job for forty bucks."

That was not what I'd said, but I didn't correct him. I'd said that I was going to buy a bracelet for my girlfriend. He had assumed I meant Megan.

"Have lunch with us tomorrow. You can talk to her then," I said, and he agreed to meet us at noon.

Chase not only met us the following day, he brought Gifford with him, saying it would be unfair to exclude a member of our Business Management team. He then gave us very specific directions regarding how he wanted us to dress for the photo shoot. Megan objected.