Sisoban O malloryChapter 7
- 3 years ago
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I had an interesting proposal. A computer mogul wanted a portrait of his wife, life size. And he wanted a nude, something with which I was uncomfortable. He grinned.
“Don’t worry, Damon. She was a model, we frequent nude beaches on holiday, so she’s more than comfortable with the thought of you seeing her naked. I’ll be in and out, but even if I wasn’t, I trust her and you have a stellar reputation. I couldn’t get Chelsea to shut up about you, her or Anne. Surprised? They both invested in my startup and have made millions off of their investment. I don’t think they cared that much about the money, but they cared about my success. I got free legal and business advice that would have cost me a fortune, and I listened. So, get started as soon as possible.”
I set up my easel in the music room, because it had the best natural lighting. The woman was a stunning beauty, losing nothing of her looks when she retired. After a get to know you chat, she stood, shrugging the robe off. I’d never seen a more perfectly proportioned body. She’d had a red fainting couch placed where I said the light was best, and she reclined, regally. I had her move into different positions as I snapped my camera. Afterwards, I loaded them on my computer and had her review them. As an ex-model, Starla had a pretty discerning eye, and none were exactly right to her. Frustrated, she called Darrin, having him come home.
It was kind of odd sitting with the couple, the wife still naked, as they debated which pose, they liked best. They settled on one, but they thought it still wasn’t just right. Then Starla grinned and asked me to leave for about 30 minutes.
It was pretty evident what had happened while I was gone. The red of the couch was stained, her body bathed in sweat, her nipples erect, her hair a disheveled mess. Her legs were splayed, and you could see the signs of their lovemaking. It was one of the most erotic sights I’d ever witnessed.
“There!” stated Darrin. “That’s what I want.”
I looked at his wife. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am, Damon. We’re going to tell you a little secret. I’m pregnant, seven weeks along. I want this memory for him, while my body is as perfect as it will ever be, before the stretch marks and mommy tummy.”
I snapped about three dozen pictures, loaded them on the computer, and sat back. They both chose the same one: her in post orgasmic bliss. I blew it up to portrait size and used it for a template. She would come in every day, and Darrin about twice a week.
It was a stark and simple life study without a lot of complicated colors, so I was done in less than a week. I called them in and showed them the finished work, the last strokes still a bit wet. Starla cried, talking about how beautiful I’d made her. I couldn’t help but laugh. “That wasn’t much of a challenge, Starla.”
They both gave me a tremendous hug, then grinned and asked me to leave. The sounds of their passion echoed through the house as I left, happy with the results, and the check. Ninety thousand, a little cheaper than normal, but it was a pretty simple job.
I turned my phone back on, not really surprised to see it full of message after message. Mom, Chelsea, Maddy, Claire, Anne, Kelsie, even Justine. I’m sure they were interesting messages, but I deleted them all and called my mother.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN‽ Everyone’s been looking for you.”
“I was working, remember? I’m done now, on my way home for a few days rest before my next appointment. What’s up?”
“You get over to my house right this minute! You hear me? Right this minute.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’ve been driving for thirteen hours and I’m pulling into my driveway now. Let me get some sleep and I’ll talk in the morning. Good night, Mom. Love you.”
She was still talking when I hung up. I made sure it was off before turning in.
As I suspected, she walked through my door early the next morning with Maddy in tow. Instead of a smile or a kiss, she slapped me. Hard. The slap set something off in me, and when she reached back to smack me again, I grabbed her hand.
“You gave me life, and I love you, but you try that again and our relationship will never be the same. You understand me? I don’t care how pissed off you are. I’m carrying around a good bit of anger and hurt myself, and you surely do not want me to redirect it. Understand?”
I was a little less than gentle. Her eyes grew wide, and Maddy took an instinctive step back. I let go of her hand and was surprised when she started crying and jumped into my arms. When she was coherent again, she apologized.
“I’m sorry, Damon. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you and Maddy are adults now. I’m just very upset.”
My plans came to nothing. I was met at the Dublin Airport by Justine, Colin, Chelsea, Anne, and Claire. Before I could start Justine spoke. “She’s gone, Damon.” “Where is she?” “America,” said Chelsea. “She’s hoping to get her newest work published there. The exposure will be tremendous for her.” “Did she know I was coming?” Justine looked down, unable to meet my eye. “Yes. Please, Damon. This trip had been planned for a while, and she had contractual obligations. She couldn’t cancel, it...
Chelsea was true to her word, but we met, rather spectacularly in my opinion, unexpectedly. I was at the home of a potential client, intrigued by his request. He wanted me to paint the cover for his latest book. James Joyce Callen was the hottest romance writers of the decade, unusual because he was a man, and because he dressed like a lumberjack and acted like the simple, uncomplicated man he was before he became a writer. He still lived in a modest farmhouse, even though he was worth more...
I called Chelsea, still sputtering, and let it all out. She seemed horrified. “I had no idea. She called yesterday, happy and bubbling one minute, scared to death the next. I was sure one look at each other and the healing would begin. I guess I was wrong.” Calming down, I spoke, letting the pain come through. “I’d say we all were. I guess once she achieved success and fame, we were just bit players in the drama of her life. You’ll excuse me, but I won’t be coming to dinner tomorrow night....
We did, indeed, go slow. For one thing, our schedules wouldn’t permit it happening any other way. I painted the portrait of the boy and his chameleon complete with the floral pattern shirt. It was very well received. The boy went out and bought a shirt as close as possible to the one I painted and put his pet on it. Even as versatile as the animal was, he couldn’t quite blend in but it made no difference. Sissy completed the final leg of her publicity tour; told her management in no...
I had cut way back on my traveling, usually meeting the client, talking about what their expectations were, taking a lot of pictures, and returning home. If they wanted the service, I would stay, but it had gotten less and less often. As much as I liked my house and studio, it was too long a drive to be practical to do on a regular basis if I was going to spend time with my girls. I was thinking about putting it up for sale and buying something closer. I mentioned it to Chelsea, and after a...
There was no formal announcement. Sissy just rushed up to Chelsea and blurted it out. “He finally got off his arse! The wedding plans are a go!” They hugged and danced and cried and when Katie found out why she was right in the middle. When they finally broke the cell phones seemed to sprout out of the ends of their fingers and they smoked the air waves. Mom, Maddy, Anne, Claire, they were all talking a mile a minute and planned on descending on us in the morning. I took Katie and we went...
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