London Royal Page 7
As it turned out, I needn’t have worried about the line. Apparently, since Jasper was the headliner, and Max and one of the other guys were members of the club, all seven of us walked right in as if we owned the place. This kind of clubbing I could get used to.
Inside, the club was mostly empty. As if the throngs waiting outside had been nothing but an illusion. I leaned over to Sophie. “If there's no one in here, why the hell do they have everyone waiting outside?”
Sophie laughed. “Image, darling. Only about a quarter of those people will get in because they have the cash to bribe the bouncers. And don’t forget most of those people are for the larger club. This area is more exclusive and private.”
“But what's the point? Wouldn’t they make more money if they just let everyone in?”
Tamsin and Sophie smiled at me like I was the village idiot. Finally Tamsin said, “Honey, this club has members that pay a pretty penny to keep the riff raff out. Besides, it's a hot spot for OK magazine darlings and the Royals. The princes have partied here, so have the princesses and lesser aristocracy. Princess Alicia was spotted here last week. You can’t let the general public in with them. It would be pandemonium.”
I blinked. “And Jasper’s DJing here? He must be really good.”
Sophie shrugged. “He is. He creates beats for some local UK artists too. He’s starting to get big.” My friend assessed me shrewdly. “You’re starting to pay more attention to him now, huh?”
A quick laugh burst out of my lungs. “No. He’s lovely, but I don’t buy the flirtation for a minute. I won’t be spending any time in his, erm, DJ booth.”
Sophie cackled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. You’ll only become even more of a challenge.”
“Oh, fantastic.”
Tamsin joined us with three shots in my hands. “Okay, ladies, drink up. These are courtesy of Max and the boys at the bar.”
I stared at the purple liquid. “What is this?”
Both of them laughed, and Tamsin just said, “I don’t think you want to know.” Raising her glass to the two of us, she added, “To Abbie. Welcome to London. And to the three of us, together again!”
“To us,” I muttered before tossing back the violet liquid. Surprisingly, it went down smooth and tasted remarkably like grape juice. It wasn’t until several seconds later that a warming sensation started in my belly, then slowly spread to my extremities, making me instantly relaxed and a little numb. “Jesus, Tams, what was that?”
“They call it a Post Orgasm. Makes you feel loose, huh?”
“Loose is one word for it.” I couldn’t feel my fingertips.
Sophie grabbed the glasses and deposited them with a barback who moved through the crowd. “Come on, girls, it’s time to dance.”
Now dancing, I could do.
As we hit the center of the dance floor closest to the DJ booth, I closed my eyes and let the music take over my limbs. Jasper mixed some unfamiliar drum and base beats along with some mild electronica and infused them into dancehall, rock, and popular rap songs.
The only problem was, three women dancing together tended to attract attention…unwanted attention.
It wasn’t long before guys started to join us, dancing in the periphery, then eventually sidling up close. Tamsin and Sophie welcomed the attention. I tried to focus on the music and ignore them. The first guy to slide up behind me had my body stiffening. Immediately, I stepped forward, spun around, and ended up on the other side of our little circle.
The next guy tried a frontal approach. Luckily, I could see him coming and waved him off. Maybe it was time to find Max and the other guys and sit down.
I waved at Jasper, and he frowned but nodded his acknowledgement. Sophie and Tamsin were too occupied to notice I’d slunk off the dance floor. On the edges where it was darkest, I paused and searched for where the guys had gone.
“I figured I’d try something different and ask you to dance.”
I whirled around and let out a small squeak of alarm. The muscles in my lower belly quivered, and my breath caught. My savior from earlier stood in front of me, looking like a cross between an angel of mercy and the devil incarnate. “We have to stop meeting like this,” I mumbled.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well, there’s no rain at the moment, so we should be safe. I trust we were able to save your camera?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Yes. Thank you. Honestly that could have been ugly today. I’m indebted.”
“How about a dance, and we’ll call it even?”
A dance? With him? Pressed up against… “I uh…”
“Now, I’m not as good as you are, so you’ll need to take it easy on me.” He outstretched his hand and waited for me to take it. He didn’t press or push, just stood there…waiting.
Jasper didn’t help me when he switched the track to a dancehall reggae song with a grooving beat.
Butterflies fluttered low in my belly. When was the last time I’d had butterflies? Unfortunately with those butterflies also came fear. The fact was I didn’t know this guy. But, if he’d wanted to hurt you, he could have already.
It’s just a dance. I glanced down at his hand and placed my palm in his. Determined not to be nervous, I smiled up at him. “Hardly seems fair. You save my life and all you get is this dance.”
He drew me close, but not too close, keeping his hands at my waist. He waited patiently until I looped my arms around his neck. “It’s well worth it to me.” The low rumble in his chest as he spoke sent shivers coursing through my body.
As it turned out, he didn’t need any help dancing. He moved us easily in time to the seductive beat. I didn’t dare look around because I knew what I’d find—couples pressed so close that we might as well be naked and in bed. Dirty dancing was a requisite of dancehall music, but my partner kept a marginally safe distance between us, figuratively if not literally, because with every down swing of the base, our hips rocked into each other.
I swallowed hard, but then forced my gaze up to meet his. As soon as their gazes met, my heart rate kicked. His slate gray eyes framed by dark lashes, stayed on mine. Nervously, I licked my lips. He stilled for just a second, causing me to lose my footing and bringing me flush against his body.
I froze, muscles tight. Touching wasn’t something I was used to or allowed easily. But with him, I didn’t want to be anywhere else. He smelled of mint and something crisp and woodsy, like he’d spent the afternoon outside on the water. I released my strangled breath and let my body relax into his. I felt, rather than heard, the low rumble in his throat as his chest vibrated against mine. His warmth enveloped me, and I could tune out everything but him. As if it were only the two of us on the edges of the dance floor.
There, in the dark, in the arms of a relative stranger, I felt safe.
His hands shifted on my waist so his thumbs traced my hipbones, and I forgot to breathe. Wobbly knees forced me to tighten my hold on him. As if responding to my body’s automatic softening, my eyes dipped to his lips.
What the hell am I doing? My brain tried desperately to take control of the situation. But I didn’t fell like listening. For the first time in longer than I cared to think about, I liked having someone’s hands on me. I wasn’t afraid. Instead, I craved it, that connection. My body hummed with vibrant sexual energy. An energy I hadn’t felt in six long years. There were nerves, but not from fear or trepidation. It felt good. Better than good. It made me remember how much I needed to be touched. Or rather touched by someone who could make me feel safe.
But just as the last of the tension ebbed out of my body, his thumbs pressed gently against my hipbones, moving me back several inches. He raised his head, and we stood like that for several seconds before I realized Jasper had switched the music. Oh, God. I’d been standing here with a total stranger, practically melting into him.
Heat rushed to my face. “I—”
He smiled, and I was too blinded to finish. Gently
his thumbs traced across my hipbones once more, and he let me go. “Thank you for the dance.” Then he turned around and walked away.
I spent several seconds staring after him. What the hell had just happened?
“Hey, there you are.” Tamsin’s voice broke me out of the fog. “Who was that you were dancing with?”
I stared into the crowd feeling empty. “I have no idea.”
Chapter 8
Abbie…
Two days later, I stood in front of Xander’s door wishing I hadn’t stayed up so late again. I’d need to be careful hanging out with Sophie and crew. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Come on. Get it together. You’re here to learn. I couldn’t be afraid forever.
Taking one more deep breath to marshal my nerves, I knocked quietly.
“It’s open.”
“Here goes nothing,” I mumbled.
The moment I opened the door to Xander’s office, I felt like I’d walked into an episode of Hoarders. There were piles everywhere and books and boxes of photo equipment. Wow. “Uhm, is this a good time?”
He grinned as he stood. “Of course. It’s your time to use. Here, let me clear you a spot to sit.” Quickly, he cleared a stack of coffee table books off a chair and placed them on the floor beside his desk. “There you go. Have a seat, Little Bird.”
I flushed. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
He plopped into his seat across from me with a lazy ease. “What, Little Bird? It’s how I see you. I go through every single one of the photos that you all submit for review. Occasionally, one or two stand out. From that point forward, I can’t help but look at my students that way, as if that photo encompasses everything they are.” He shrugged. “Hence, Little Bird.”
There was no way I’d be able to concentrate with him staring at me like that. Like I had his full focus. I tried not to squirm under the scrutiny of his direct gaze. “So, can I ask, what are you looking for in your assistant position?”
His bark of laughter was rich and low. “Right to the point, I see.”
I shrugged. “It’s why I came to London. I want to work with you.”
Something flittered over his expression, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m looking for a damn good photographer who can put up with me. Right now, all of you show promise, but I think with some hard work, we can make you shine.”
Way to be vague. “I’d just like to know the criteria you’re using to measure my work.”
His lips tipped up in an oddly familiar smile. “Ahhh, the artist with a type A streak. I understand. Composition, command of the light around you, the basics, but to an expert level. I don’t want to be able to tell the difference between your work and an Ansell Adams. But you have to infuse heart into your images. That and confidence. If it’s not there, I can’t use you.”
Heart. Confidence. Considering mine had been ripped out of my chest, and my confidence lay under a pile of shit, I’d have to figure that out. “Okay. I can work on it.”
“So, tell me what you’re thinking of for your first assignment.”
I detailed my plan to photograph the architecture of London and how I hoped to get that gritty urban feel that somehow still managed to convey joy. He listened intently before speaking.
“It’s a decent plan. But honestly, I want to push you outside of your comfort zone. I don’t want you to take pretty pictures of landscapes. Your portfolio was a little light on portraits. Maybe you can try some this week.”
I forced my breathing to even out. Portraits. Absolutely my weakest kind of photos. “I uh—”
“Hold that thought.” He stood and strode to the bookshelf. Xander pulled out a dusty hardcover and handed it to me. Then he got on his hands and knees and searched the lower shelves before finding what he was looking for. “And this.”
His fingertips brushed mine, and I jumped. He immediately withdrew his hand and sat on the edge of his desk, giving me plenty of room. Great. Now he thought I was nuts.
“I don’t understand.”
Xander studied me carefully. “You’re here to learn, right? And to push your boundaries?”
I nodded.
“Then try something new. Have a look through those two books. Jonathan Frazier is one of my favorite photographers. The first one is a book of his landscapes. The other is of his portraits. Next meeting, tell me which ones moved you the most.” He glanced at the clock. “It looks like our time is up for today.”
Wow, an hour had gone by that quickly? “Sure. I can do that.” I thanked him and picked up my bag to leave.
He stopped me in the doorway. “Abbie.” His voice was low as he leaned forward. “You can’t photograph honestly when you’re shuttered from the world. You’ll have to open yourself and show your vulnerability to hit your true potential.”
I tipped my chin up. “I can do that.” At least I could try. Landscapes had always been easy for me, but if he wanted to push me, then fine. I’d get some portraits done. Even as I waved goodbye, my brain was already formulating a plan for the kinds of portraits I might be able to do.
Checking my watch again, I hurried out of the media building to meet Ilani for lunch. I’d already hit up most of the campus spots for a potential job before my meeting with Xander. Hopefully, something would come up in the next couple of days.
My friend arrived mere seconds after I did. “So how did your meeting go with Mr. I’d-consider-a threesome-for-you Chase?”
I barked out a laugh as Ilani and I grabbed a seat at the campus café. “Seriously, Ilani?”
The blonde shrugged. “I’m not into girls, but if that man asked me, I’d say hell yes, whatever you want. Come on, he’s certainly worth the shag.”
“You’re ridiculous. Have you had your meeting with him yet?”
Ilani shook her head. “Mine’s this afternoon.”
I eyed my friend. Ilani had gone for a short corduroy skirt and low-cut fitted sweater. “I see you dressed to impress.”
Ilani beamed. “Well, you have to put your best assets on display and see what happens. I mean, he might have said he’s not interested, but I know for a fact he’s slept with a student before.”
Intrigued, I leaned forward. “Really? Who?”
Ilani glanced around surreptitiously. “She was a year ahead of me and in his undergraduate class. Rumor is, she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.“
“So what happened with her?”
Ilani shrugged. “Well Xander is notorious. Maybe she couldn’t keep up.”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, fine, she caught him with some model on a shoot and went ballistic on him.”
“Explain ballistic.”
“Well, rumor is that their little tryst was all about woman on top. She allegedly grabbed the model by the hair and yanked her clean off Xander, then well, threatened him with bodily harm if you know what I mean.” Ilani waggled her eyebrows. “She went completely mental. Screaming and shouting that she was going to end his career. Of course, she’s the one who was carted off. He emerged unscathed.”
That sounded like something from a soap opera. “Don’t you think if all that happened, he’d be a lot less likely to sleep with another student?”
Ilani grinned. “Difference is, I only want him for his body. I have no desire for a relationship of any kind. What about you?”
The waitress arrived with water and took our orders.
I shook my head. “Oh, I’m off relationships. I just got out of a bad one, and I’m not eager to repeat the experience.”
“Oh no, I meant Xander. What do you want him for?”
“Xander? The only thing I want from him is an excellent job recommendation, if not a job, by the end of the year. Other than that, he’s all yours.”
Ilani studied me. “Are you sure about that?”
I frowned and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “What do you mean?”
My new friend shrugged. “It
means I saw you guys in the hall earlier. It looked like he might kiss you or something.”
I blinked. “No. He was not going to kiss me. He was busy imparting some knowledge about how I’ll need to be more vulnerable. Besides, I’m not interested. I’m staying far away from guys right now. He’s all yours.”
“If you say so. But from where I was standing, he looked plenty interested in you.”
The look of seriousness on Ilani’s face was the only thing keeping me from laughing out loud. “I promise you he’s not. I’m just a student to him. Besides, with that skirt on, you’re sure to catch his attention.”
Ilani looked temporarily mollified, but then she added, “Look, all kidding aside, you seem like the kind of girl who would get hurt. I like you, and I don’t want to see that happen. Just be careful.”
Chapter 9
Abbie…
After another run with Lex I decided to take my time in and explore the city a little bit more. I'd taken this bus into town, but instead of the familiar spots I'd explored, this time I went towards Notting Hill. I figured if it was good enough for Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts, it was good enough for me. What always fascinated me was how friendly people were. Every time I passed someone, I'd get a cheery, "All right?"
I didn't think I was responding correctly though. I would smile and say yes, thank you, but I didn't think that was the right answer because everyone always furrowed their brows and looked at me like I didn't understand what I was doing. I probably didn't. And I have to ask Sophie or Tamsin what to say in response. The sun had started to set and when I looked at my watch, it was already six. Which meant it would be dark soon and I needed to get back.
On some of the row homes, there had been lanterns, strung across the street. My hands weren't steady enough to make that kind of shot work. So I swung out the backpack off my shoulder and pulled out my tripod. With a quick setup and a little lighting assist, I captured the kind of shot that I wanted. They were beautiful and whimsical and everything that sort of thought about when I thought about London streets. Cobbled stones and lanterns, what I was looking for. That vibe of fun and frivolity. Not exactly what I wanted for a masters, but God, it's what I wanted for life.