The Modeliser (34 page)

Talia and Simone had practically cartwheeled through the park
and by the time she arrived home, matters had moved further along. Her email
inbox was filled with messages from her newly appointed agent, they had a
bidding war on their hands, and the script was about to sell. By the time Talia
finally closed her email down for the night – she’d sold her first
screenplay for low six figures. Though it was close to midnight, Talia knew
that there was only one person that she wanted to talk the news over with.

As she rode in a cab towards Alex’s hotel, she allowed her
mind to drift back to their night together. Perhaps she had been hasty in
cutting off what they had started. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Alex and too
quick to judge him. Talia rode up in the lift and as she caught sight of
herself in the lift mirrors, she quickly touched up her lip-gloss and then felt
foolishly vain. She stepped out of the lift and then froze. Emerging from
Alex’s room was a young woman. Tall and beautiful, definitely not model thin
but still strikingly beautiful with a mass of blonde curls, like an image from
some Pre-Raphaelite painting brought to life. Talia forced her legs to move and
as they passed each other, the tall woman gave her a smile. Talia turned back
and watched the woman step into the lift. For a moment she hovered outside
Alex’s door, she felt a sick feeling well up in her stomach and she wished that
she’d been wrong about Alex. Slowly, Talia turned and moved back to the lift,
punching the call button with more force than was necessary. As she stepped
into the lift, she comforted herself with one thought, Alex had helped her get
a script deal, he might be lousy material for any kind of relationship but in
this at least, he’d proved himself a friend.

No
publicity is bad publicity. Tamara was quickly re-learning the old adage and
finding it to be true. Slowly she had started to emerge back into her life.
She’d returned some of the calls that she’d ignored and had been grateful too
that Alex had taken time from his rehearsals to come and visit her. But in the
end, she reminded herself – she was on her own and she had to find her
way out of the quagmire.

It was her agent who had first directed her attention to the
blogs. Long and involved posts and petitions to save her character from being
axed had been quickly followed by features in some of the classier magazine
supplements. Was Tamara the face of the new bitch? Would Encounters survive
without her? Tamara had read the articles with some bemusement. The publicity
and unexpected support was good but what did it mean? Online petitions would
not keep her in Dior, after all. But quickly too, the offers had started to
come. One broadcaster had suggested the possibility of her own reality TV show,
a book publisher was interested in her autobiography and most exciting of all
was that Simon Cowell had called for a sit down meeting – Tamara would make
an excellent judge on his new talent show format.

That afternoon Tamara and Katie had lunched at The Wolseley.
Tamara, unmissable in a red Valentino dress that made every head turn, had been
late and she noted that the
maître
de had seated them at the most
prominent table in the restaurant. The waiters could not be more attentive and
by the end of lunch, Tamara and Kate had been interrupted by no fewer than
eight executives and TV industry players just stopping to say “a quick hello”
to Tamara and trying to pin her down for a meeting. Tamara leaned back as she
sipped the sparkling water and gave a small smile. Her stock was up and she had
every intention of capitalising on every opportunity that came her way. The
bitch was back.

“You
look sexy in yellow.”

Talia froze at the whispered words and then whipped round to
find herself face to face with Max Maguire. She had been wandering aimlessly
through the aisles of the mammoth Waterstones bookshop on Piccadilly and now
she glanced around noting that other people had started to notice Max too. Tall
and lean with a dark buzz cut and unexpectedly deep green eyes, Max was
stunning, inviting second and even third glances. He was impossible to miss and
the fact that he was a fast-rising British actor who’d starred as the villain
in a commercially successful action film that broke box office records meant
that eyes were following him intently.

“Max,” Talia gasped feeling her cheeks warm with
embarrassment. The last time she had seen him was at the Rough Draft party.

“Where’s your knight in shining armour?” Max drawled, raising
his eyebrows at her.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Seriously, I thought Alex was going to call me out for a
duel when he saw us talking.”

“Now you’re being... I work for Alex, we’re just friends.”
Talia said the words as firmly as she could but she found that she could not
hold Max’s knowing gaze.

“Really,” Max questioned with an ironic look.

“Really,” Talia replied firmly. Desperate to kill the look of
speculation on his face, Talia cast around for a suitable topic change. “What
are you doing here?” She asked and then bit her tongue, he was in a bookshop,
obviously he was shopping for books.

“So I should be congratulating you I hear,” Max said. “The
script sounds great.” Talia smiled surprised.

“You heard about that?”

“Small industry,” Max replied. “What are you doing to
celebrate?” Talia shrugged.

“Maybe drinks later. Everyone’s at work and I need to get
some books for research anyway.”

“That’s not good enough.” Max held an arm out to her with a
smile and Talia slowly linked arms with him. It was hard to hold firm when Max
Maguire turned on the charm. “I’ll have to help you celebrate.”

“But…” Talia started. But Max was already leading them
towards the exit.

“Selling your first script to Hollywood calls for something a
little bit special.”

As
they headed for the exit, Talia caught a few of the glances that were coming
their way. For a moment she wondered why Max was so interested in her, why he
seemed to seek her out but then she squashed the thought and allowed herself to
relax, basking in the looks of envy shooting their way as she and Max walked
out into the street.

Max
Maguire smelt like danger.

Seven hours later, this hazy thought drifted across Talia’s
mind.

“I really should be going,” she said but even she could hear
the lack of conviction in her voice. Max had ridden over her objections hours
ago as their celebratory drinks had taken them from Vendome, to The Caprice, to
the Punchbowl pub and Talia had told him about her script and her new agent and
the interest from the studios. Max had been impressed even as he plied her with
drinks. Finally they’d made it to his hotel room, where they’d plundered the
mini bar, giggling like kids in a candy store. They were sprawled on the private
terrace of his palatial suite and Talia felt him toying with the buttons on her
yellow sundress.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she tried again. But
already Max was planting small kisses along her neck.

“I completely disagree,” he replied a look of intent in his
eyes as he continued to toy with one of her buttons. She put her hand on his,
to stop him and their eyes met. She saw Max’s eyes narrow.

“You and Golden?” He asked a challenge in his eyes. And Talia
felt a burst of unease as she remembered the girl leaving Alex’s hotel room.

“Alex and I are definitely not like that,” she stated baldly
holding Max’s gaze and then as though to prove her point, she leaned down to
lick a path across Max’s collarbone up his neck all the way to his stubble-roughened
jaw. As she kissed his jaw, she did not see the look of triumph as Max leaned
back and smiled.

Talia, leaned back watching as Max pulled back from her for a
moment to lean down and snort a line of cocaine from the small glass table
beside them. He looked up at her and as their eyes met, Talia felt again that
frisson of danger that seemed to follow Max but she shook off her doubt. She
watched as slowly he sucked his finger into his mouth to wet it and then daubed
some of the white powder on it. Slowly, he raised the finger to her mouth and
for a moment Talia was tempted but she shook her head and with a shrug Max
sucked the powder into his mouth before turning back to her. Talia watched his
face as he pulled the two sides of her sleeveless shirt-dress apart and stared
at her body. The old Talia might have been embarrassed, perhaps tried to cover
herself but this new Talia was in her element.

“You like?” She asked coyly, watching as Max’s gaze ate her
up from her heavy breasts to her waist and the tiny lace knickers that she
wore. Talia didn’t care that they were outside on an exposed roof top terrace.
Why shouldn’t she have some fun and move on, Alex already had. Max was
arrogant, rude and as she’d learned over the course of the afternoon, sometimes
crass. His repertoire of filthy sex jokes had made her blush. In the
dictionary, right next to toxic bachelor there would probably be a picture of
him. And yet at that moment, he was every one of her bad girl fantasies come to
life.

Slowly, she moved forward, wetting her lips with her tongue.
And then she licked down his body again this time from neck to chest, before
gently biting his nipple.

“Harder,” he urged and she obeyed before licking the hardened
nub to soothe it. Talia straddled him and she felt a shiver run through her as
he held her head steady and thrust his tongue into her mouth over and over. She
gave as good as she got, biting at his lip, pulling on his tongue, sucking
hard. Finally, Max pushed the dress fully off her shoulders and Talia watched
as he lowered his head to her breasts and began to suck on them through the
thin lace of her bra. The black lace was sodden by the time his head rose and
Talia was panting with anticipation, rocking against Max’s erection, riding him
through his trousers. Even as she craved skin-to-skin contact, she knew she
couldn’t wait. The friction from his chest hair was driving her mad. And she
moaned long and loud as he pushed at her knickers. She was wet and beyond
ready. And Max laughed into her mouth.

“Tell me what you want.” He growled into her mouth,
punctuating the question with a sharp smack on her butt that triggered a gush
of excitement in her.

“Do that again!” Talia demanded excitement laced with
surprise, as Max delivered a series of stinging slaps. She continue to ride his
cock, getting the friction she needed even as the heated slaps on her bottom,
ratcheted up her lust even more.

“Now," she said against his mouth. And she was grateful
that he knew exactly what she wanted. Still keep one hand stroking and kneading
her bottom, Max freed himself from his trousers and then he hooked his fingers
into her knickers and pulled, Talia heard the sound of fabric tearing and
suddenly, Max thrust into her and she screamed. She felt as though he’d rigged
her with a series of mines that were all starting to detonate as mini
explosions shook her body; a domino effect ricocheting, multiplying through her
body until she came in a loud, shuddering release, with a smile on her face
staring at the stars in the sky.

Helena
was sifting through the past. She’d arrived at the house in Hampstead early,
armed with a brown bag of fresh muffins and coffee and had been surprised to
find that Talia wasn’t there. After waiting around for a while, she had decided
to go up into the attic and put to rest a thought that had been niggling at the
back of her mind, since she’d made the decision to leave Époque.

Up in the attic, Helena sifted through the old cameras that
her father had stored and the boxes and boxes of photographs. Her father had
first picked up a camera when he was 14 and as their grandfather told it, he’d
never been seen without one after that. Helena caressed a small Kodak camera
remembering how her father had taught her to use it, inviting her into his
darkroom at the back of their house, so that she could see the magical process,
as the images sprang from nothing into glorious detail. That same dark room was
at the bottom of her garden, where she now stored her shoes. Helena felt the
first stirrings of fear but she pushed it down, she could make it without
Époque, she could make it as a photographer. As her gaze drifted around the
attic to her father’s papers and cameras and photos, she allowed herself to
calm down, she had everything she needed to help her make a go of life as a
photographer. Her dad had taught her all the basics, she’d had the best
possible teacher and now she had to put it all to work.

Helena was still examining one of the old cameras, when she
heard the front door slam and she was jerked from the past. Carefully she
navigated the steps down from the attic and walked down the main staircase
startling Talia who was skipping up the stairs. Talia gave a squeal of surprise
as she caught sight of her friend.

Helena raised an eyebrow noting Talia’s rumpled dress and the
definite evidence of stubble burn on her jaw.

“Someone’s been playing,” Helena smirked watching as her
friend blushed. “I want to know everything.”

By
the time Talia came back downstairs fresh from a shower, Helena had warmed up
the muffin. Talia flopped in a chair at the table, stifling a yawn, gratefully
taking the mug of hot coffee that Helena offered her.