The Modeliser (5 page)

These two women were the first non-Mexicans he’d seen in the
bar since he’d been coming there.

“Oh my god.” The tall slim one breathed the words again, more
quietly this time. “You’re Alex Golden.” Alex forced himself to focus on them
and he re-adjusted his initial impression. They were young, hardly more than
girls. The curvy one stood back, allowing her slim blonde friend to do the
talking. Alex swayed slightly as he rose to his feet, with the trademark smile
that he’d perfected over the years. He leaned close to the girl.

“Shush,” he said. “That’s our little secret.” The girl seemed
to be holding her breath, her eyes drilling into him as they stood toe to toe.
Alex stared at her flawless youthful skin, she was tall he realised, able
almost to stare straight into his eyes. He smiled again as unthinkingly he laid
his hand on her shoulder, to give her a reassuring pat. He’d grown used to this
over the years; young girls, women and sometimes even men, who looked ready to
faint at the sight of him. Sometimes it still amused him but now craving
anonymity, he simply wanted them to get their picture and go. The hand on her
shoulder seemed to reanimate the girl and she turned to her friend and then
back to Alex.

“Can we get a picture?” she asked. Alex heard the twang of
the American Mid-West in her surprisingly husky voice.

“Sure.” He replied, as the girls immediately stepped either
side of him. One of the Mexican fishermen quickly obliged, taking the photo
with a knowing wink at Alex that made him realise that perhaps he had not been
quite as incognito as he’d thought.

“Thanks,” the blonde girl said. Her dark haired friend smiled
shyly at Alex, chiming along her own thanks. Relieved he sank back down into
his seat, watching as the girls wound their way through the tables and chairs
and out of the bar. He would finish this beer and then head back to the villa.
But before he’d taken even one sip of his rapidly warming beer, he felt a
shadow once again fall across him. He looked up; it was the blonde girl again.

The unfocused desire he’d seen in her eyes had crystallized
now into intent. Alex watched her idly. She really was stunning. Her face was
free of makeup and those legs, which seemed to go on forever were encased in
the briefest of khaki shorts that revealed slim tanned thighs. How old could
she be? Youthful innocence seemed to shine off her but Alex wasn’t fooled, he’d
met too many starlets, pin ups and porn stars that channelled that same look.
He watched her silently; curious about how far she would go. What had she done
with the friend he wondered? Slowly she leaned down until her chin was level
with his and she stared into his eyes. No doubt she knew that he had a direct
view down the thin white vest that she wore. He could see her small breasts,
which hung free under the thin tank top. She stared at him and against his will
he found his interest stirring. It was two days since Isabella had left in a
fury, finally realising that she was on her way out. The fact that Page Six had
run a story about his fling with her Pilates instructor had been the final
straw. There had been righteous anger and indignation but no tears and
certainly no begging; Alex admired Isabella for that. She’d packed her bags and
simply left. Though he’d got the outcome that he wanted, Alex suddenly realised
the truth of that statement that women bandied about.
There’s no better way
to get over someone than to get under someone else.
Not that he needed to get over Isabella
but being in this hot, steamy climate without anyone in his bed was a less than
satisfactory outcome. He stared at the coltish blonde, watching the desire in
her eyes grow.

“It’s not everyday…” she pouted and then stopped biting her
lip nervously. He decided to take pity on her.

“It’s not every day...," he questioned lightly watching
as a flush of colour flooded her cheeks. Their eyes connected in a shock of
electricity. The girl took a deep breath and expelled it.

“It’s not every day that you walk into the man who stars in
all your sexual fantasies.” She might not be an innocent but there was a
nervous naivety about her that Alex liked. She didn’t do this everyday and the
last words had been whispered out in a rush of embarrassment. Her face was red,
as though saying the words had over-exerted her. She watched him with a mixture
of hope and fear and defiance and Alex suddenly wanted very much to see how
badly she wanted to play. He rose abruptly and she backed away like a skittish
horse but his arm shot out to pull her back towards him.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “We’ll see about turning
some of those fantasies into reality.” She swayed close to him as though
waiting for a kiss, perhaps to seal the deal. Alex stared at her pink lips for
a moment and then he turned his back on her, hearing the sigh of frustration on
her lips, knowing that she fell into step behind him. She’d get what she wanted
and more besides, but only when he was ready.

Alex
woke with the beginnings of a hangover as brilliant sunshine slashed into the
bedroom. He was sprawled on the floor, on a thick rug next to the bed. He
stretched the kink out of his neck as the night before flooded back. He moved
gingerly as the girl next to him stirred before settling back into her deep
sleep. Alex had been right about her, what innocence she might once have had
was long gone and the wide-eyed enthusiasm that had bounced off her was
probably brought on by her happiness at the good luck that had thrown her into
the path of a movie star. Her name was Nikki, she was from Chicago and she and
her friend, whose name now slipped his mind, were travelling after their
freshman year at college. After her initial shyness, the words had tripped off
Nikki’s tongue. She’d talked non-stop until Alex had shut her up by sticking
his tongue practically down her throat. Most of what she’d said had left his
mind even as she was still speaking. She was pretty, there was no denying that;
almost model pretty. Alex rose silently to his feet and walked towards the
shower. He wasn’t one for talking in the morning and he hoped she’d get the
message and get the hell out once she was awake.

Alex stepped into the opulent shower, which Milo had proudly
told him could fit an entire basketball team. He allowed the pulsing hot water
to beat down on him and then he flicked the dial to cold, to pound away the
hangover that threatened. These last 10 days, Alex had drunk, smoked and eaten
with impunity and he grimaced as he imagined what Seth and Maryanne – his
nutritionist and personal trainer would think when they next clapped eyes on
him. The water cascaded down his taut, lean body, which showed little of the
week’s excesses but merely OK was not good enough for Alex. For the man who had
held the crown of People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive for three of the last six
years, his physique had to be god-like. Alex switched the water off. Still
naked, he padded towards the living room, drying his hair, when the sound of
the television stopped him short. The friend, he remembered. He secured the
small towel around his hips and moved forward to see that Nikki’s friend lay on
the couch, the remote control in her hand as she zipped through the channels.

Last night he’d been surprised when she’d turned up after
Nikki. Their intended guesthouse had been fully booked, apparently and Nikki
had asked him if her friend could stay. Alex had briefly wondered if this was
some sort of ploy that would end up in a threesome but the friend had
disappeared into the living room and stayed there. Now she turned as she spotted
Alex at the end of the sofa. Alex saw her eyes widen as she took in the brief
towel around his hips, which left little to the imagination.

“I’m, I’m..” she stuttered the words. “I’m sorry, if I woke
you.” She flicked the TV off, looking anywhere but at him.

“It’s ok, I was up anyway.” Alex gave her a small smile,
watching as she tried to reach for the blanket, which had fallen off the couch.
Seeing her now clad only in a bra and a sarong, he realised that he’d misjudged
her the night before. By Hollywood standards, she was big, there was no denying
that but rather than fat, her body was full and voluptuous like that of a pin
up from the Forties. As though sensing his scrutiny of her body, she sat up
abruptly, her breasts threatening to spill out of the plunging balconette bra,
which barely concealed the heavy mounds of flesh. “I hope we didn’t keep you
up, last night.” The desire to see her blush rose up in Alex and he watched as
her cheeks reddened.

“It’s fine.”

He noted that she didn’t deny that they’d kept her up. He
wondered if that was the deal; that she got off on listening. She rose to her
feet and swung the sarong fully about her body covering up those magnificent
breasts much to his irritation.

“I guess you must get a load of girls throwing themselves at
you.”

Alex shrugged. He moved towards the kitchen, hearing her feet
on the stone floor as she slowly followed him. From somewhere in the room he
heard the insistent metallic chiming of his phone vibrating. The girl cocked
her head as she listened and then she reached up to one of the bookshelves
picking the phone up to hand it to Alex.

“Do you want this?” Taking the phone from her, Alex glanced
at the display and then shook his head, depressing the call reject button.

“It can wait. Coffee?” He asked. She nodded as she re-knotted
the sarong around her neck in a style that cupped her breasts, crossing over
her chest leaving the rest of the sarong to fall to just above her knees.

“When Nikki wakes up, I guess we’ll get out of your hair.”
Alex had barely noticed her the night before but now objectively, he noted that
she had a pretty face, prettier than her friend. The softness of her cheeks
only served to accentuate the wide generous curve of the self-deprecating smile
that she gave now. With some surprise, Alex noted that she wasn’t nervous with
him. Cautious yes but she’d met his gaze head on; there was a confidence about
her that was so often lacking in the women he met.

“So what’s a nice girl like you doing backpacking…” He
trailed off as the snort of laughter escaped her and she covered her mouth with
her hand. He smiled ruefully. “Can’t believe I said that.”

“A little bit clichéd,” she agreed.

“Right.” Alex nodded. It was he realized, in a blinding flash
of insight, the first time in years that anyone had told him the truth. His
usual crowd in LA would laugh at his joke no matter how lame it was. “I’m
sorry, what was your…” he trailed off, embarrassed to admit that last night
he’d been much more interested in getting into Nikki’s pants than in
remembering her friend’s name.

“Oh right. Deanna.” She nodded unsurprised.

“I’m sorry I’m terrible with names.” Alex felt moved to
explain.

“Don’t worry about it.” Deanna smiled at him without censure.
“I’m used to it, people tend to forget everything when Nikki’s around.” She
seemed genuine in her words and yet Alex felt like a heel. This girl seemed
nice, real and he wished somehow that he were a different kind of man, that he
had seen past her lush, unfashionable curves and seen the prettiness in her
face and the easy femininity. He wished he’d not fucked her friend in her
earshot.

“Here,” Alex handed her the mug of coffee and together they
moved back to Milo’s oversized white Versace sofa. “You two are at college
together?”

Deanna nodded as she sipped from the mug. “Yep, I’m studying
English literature, with French.”

“Ah Oui?” Alex smiled at her. “Have you been to Paris?” She
shook her head.

“Not yet but that’s the plan, to go to Europe, if I don’t
blow all my money here.” She reached for the remote and began to flick through
the TV channels again. Alex shifted easily to his feet.

“I’ll go check on Nikki,” he said still watching her. She
nodded as she watched the ticker tape of reports that scrolled along the bottom
of a news channel.

Something about her bothered him and for a moment he watched
her, the sunlight picking out stray wisps of gold in her curly, dark hair. It
was a long time since any woman had spoken to him, without an agenda and he
wondered how she and Nikki could be best friends. How two such utterly
different people had come together. There was a quiet, wholesome caution about
Deanna; she was the type of girl, Alex imagined, that one could count on. By
contrast Nikki beautiful as she was, simply wasn’t the real deal. Nikki was like
every starlet, every model, every wannabe, every scenester that had ever
crossed his path in his years in Hollywood. Nikki was one of those girls who
played the game – who danced like everyone was watching, who fucked like
there was a camera on them, who lived every moment like it was a money shot.

“What?” Her question broke into his internal musings and Alex
realised that he’d been standing there staring at Deanna. “Is there something
on my face?” She looked quizzically at him and he realised that he’d moved to
stand almost in front of her, looking down at her. She rose slowly as he spoke.

“You’re a nice girl.” He said and she looked oddly at him,
cautious as she stared up into his eyes.

“Some people say that nice girls wind up with nothing.” She
said the words carefully, watching as he leaned in close and kissed her. She
was still for a moment and then she pulled his head down towards her. Her mouth
opened beneath his and she pushed her tongue deep into his mouth, even as his
hands grabbed at her fleshy hips to pull her tight against him. His hand moved
higher to her waist, which was unexpectedly slim, tiny even. He pulled her
against him, grinding his erection into the soft curves of her stomach. His
hands slid slowly down to grab and knead the lush curves of her bottom and he
deepened the kiss. Even as he fell into her, surrounded by her unexpected
spell, he felt her pulling away from him. He tightened his grip but she pulled
harder and reluctantly he let her go. Now she looked embarrassed, her eyes darting
away.