Christmas at Tiffany's (40 page)

It was Mojitos only, but Claude, not finding the ice crushed to his liking, asked for water.

They wandered round slowly, studying the pictures on the wall, though Cassie couldn’t stop herself from scanning the room, trying to find Luke. After five covert scouting missions she found him leaning against a wall, a drink in his hand, his ankles crossed as he listened to a petite brunette in an Erdem minidress with ankle boots – Alexa Bourton, she realized with horror – extrapolating on something to do with the picture they were standing by. It was of Selena again, nude again. She was sitting up on the roof terrace, a large straw cowboy hat on her head, legs up on the wall as she lay back on the Adirondack steamer chair, her face basking in the sun.

Selena herself was only a few people away from him. She was still wearing her hair in the severe chignon she’d favoured earlier. Quite how she could bring herself to be in the same room as all these people when they were looking at pictures of her
in the buff
, Cassie didn’t know. She might as well walk around here naked.

She turned back to Claude. ‘So what do you think?’ she asked, waving a vague hand around the room. ‘Do you think he’s worth all the noise?’

Claude looked at her, and she thought that in spite of obscuring his face with hair – like reeds over a pond – he looked like he’d lost weight. ‘Do you?’

Cassie shrugged. ‘Well, I can’t claim to know much about photography. I’m of the “point and click” school myself—’

‘
Non
. I mean do you think
he’s
worth all the noise?’

‘I don’t understand.’

Claude looked her up and down. ‘I see you dressed up like this for him tonight. Not like you have dressed since I have known you in Paris.’

‘I dressed up for Anouk’s birthday dinner,’ she contradicted.

‘Not like
this
, you didn’t. Tonight, you dress for a man. That night you dressed for friends.’

Cassie paused, then shrugged. She supposed it was true. Her lingerie tonight was certainly making her feel different, stand differently. At Anouk’s dinner she’d just been wearing a T-shirt bra and Spanx.

‘I see you dressed up for him,’ Claude continued. ‘But I see on the walls a man who has many women dressing – or, more to the point,
un
dressing – for him.’

Cassie stared at him, not much caring for his point. ‘He’s a photographer, Claude. They’re models, not lovers.’

‘But you’re on the walls somewhere in here.’

‘Well, that’s different. We lived together. “Muse” was his nickname for me. And that’s what he’s called the exhibition. It’s just about inspirations, not women he’s taken to bed.’

She saw Bas clock the two of them and make a beeline across the floor. He shook Claude’s hand and flirtatiously ran a ticklish hand up her bare back. ‘You look divine,’ he said proudly. ‘How could he possibly resist you?’

Claude gave her a pointed stare, but she looked away, pretending to study the picture in front of them instead.

‘So have you seen yourself yet?’

‘Only in the mirror.’

Bas chuckled. ‘Well, come this way,’ he said, guiding her by the elbow. ‘I must say, it’s very clever of you to hide in plain sight.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, the contrast dress, the dark hair. Nobody would guess you’re the girl in the pictures.’

‘Is that a good thing?’ She was amused.

‘Well, your modesty, your naïveté – and I say that with love, dear thing – are among your most defining characteristics.’

‘And . . . ?’ The three of them plaited their way through the crowd.

‘And there’s no trace of them here,’ he winked.

What did he mean? Cassie felt her blood begin to pulse at her temples. She stepped around some large columns, and as she saw the run of huge black-and-white prints, she stepped straight back in time. It was early morning; the leaves were still on the trees but turning coppery, hinting at their intention to fly; sleep still rested upon her like a sheet – light and warm; Luke was straddling her, she could feel his weight, pinning her down. And she was as naked as a baby.

Bas turned back to her – and the smile slid off his face like jelly off a plate. ‘Oh God, Cass!’ he said, in horror. ‘Don’t say you didn’t
know
?’

She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears as she took them all in, snapshots of their brief happy life together – sexy, vital and deeply private. Her eyes rested on the one he’d taken of her running towards the bathroom. Her butter-blonde hair was lifted and dynamic, her legs long in mid-stride, her breasts partly obscured by her arm, an impish smile on her face as she made eye contact through the lens . . . She looked down to the ground, feeling humiliated and every bit as exposed as she had expected Selena to feel.

Bas rushed to her, throwing his arms around her like a blanket – protective, covering, warm.

Claude didn’t move. His face was as set as concrete, and his eyes burned darkly from beneath his shaggy hair and furred hood. Then suddenly he moved forward, put his arms around the nearest print and lifted it off the hooks. He pivoted it round and set it down on the floor, facing in towards the wall.

Then he walked down the length of the wall doing the same thing to all the other pictures of her, regardless of whether she was clothed or not.

‘Hey!’ Luke called out furiously as someone alerted him to what was happening. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he yelled, running towards Claude looking threatening, even though Claude was taller than him by several inches. Luke didn’t seem to care, but perhaps he should have, for as Luke reached him, Claude landed a powerful left hook on his jaw that sent him sprawling at his guests’ fashionable feet.

‘Claude, don’t!’ Cassie cried, just as Luke got back up and Claude sent him flying back down with another punch to the nose.

Claude didn’t hear her. He was bent over from the effort, his breathing heavy with adrenalin, his expression lightening as he vented some of the anger that consumed him. He dragged Luke up by the collar of his navy shirt.

‘She was a gift to you,’ he growled contemptuously. ‘A rare bird to cherish. Not some
thing
to humiliate by parading her naked like a slave.’

Luke put his hand to his nose to try to stop the blood. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he spat. ‘I loved her.’

‘
Non
. You love how she made you feel – important and central and needed. It is different. If you knew her at all, you would not have done
this
.’ He released his grip and let Luke fall to the ground.

A bundle of security guards – overweight and too late – ran up, clustering around Claude and trying to manhandle him into a headlock, but he was too big. One of them managed to pinion his arm behind his back, and they rushed him towards the doors. He put up no resistance. Honour had been satisfied. The crowd – scandalized and delighted – parted as they passed.

Luke, still on the ground, looked up at Cassie, who was still being held by Bas. She was pale with shock. ‘That’s your
friend
?’ he spat. ‘Gimme a break!’

The security guards started replacing the prints on the walls, some of them off-plumb, ruining the harmony of the severe lines.

‘He was defending me, like any friend would do,’ she said quietly, trembling as she felt everyone’s eyes make the connection between the nude blonde on the walls and the sophisticated brunette in the standout dress. ‘You have no right to use these pictures.’

Luke stood up, putting a handkerchief to his nose to stem the blood. ‘On the contrary, I have every right. When you signed the contract for the Washington campaign, you signed your image rights over to me.’

Cassie looked at him in horror. ‘But that was for the campaign
only
.’

Luke shook his head. ‘You should have read the small print. And you can thank your friend for helping me to make up my mind to tour with this exhibition after all. London and New York want it. There have been enquiries from Moscow too, so I’ll make a point of returning those calls.’ His eyes glinted bitterly and she saw that whatever had once been between them had died with his pride. He pulled the cuffs down on his shirt. ‘
And
I’ve just been talking to Alexa. She’s theming an entire issue around The Muse. You may as well know I’m giving her the exclusive on them.’

Cassie looked at the floor for a moment, and then back up at him. She took a deep breath, drawing her own line in the sand.

‘Then I guess you’ll be hearing from my lawyers,’ she said, before shaking her head sadly and walking away. She could hear Bas’s footsteps right behind hers, and as she pushed through the doors – just in time to see Claude’s taxi pulling away – she wondered why her relationships with the most important men in her life always ended by being signed off with legal letters.

‘Still no word?’ Suzy asked.

Cassie shook her head, eyes down. She didn’t need to look at the Skype screen to know that Suzy had her head tipped to the side, as she always did when she was concerned.

‘Nope. He’s not returned any of my calls. I don’t know what else to do.’

‘Well, have you been over to him? If he’s not picking up, he might let you in.’

‘I guess. I’m just so worried about him. You didn’t see him, Suze . . .’

There was a pause. ‘Well, for the record, Mummy thinks it sounds hilarious.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Yeah. Bailey photographed her when she was our age, and she said you should enjoy your moment in the sun.’

‘This is completely different! They were private pictures, Suze. He has no right to show them publicly.’

‘That’s exactly what Henry’s been shouting about.’

‘Henry? Shouting?’

‘Oh yes, he’s been in a terrible rage about it all. But then, he’s in a foul mood about everything at the moment. Stress. Nerves.’ She waved her hand dismissively and rubbed her tummy. ‘God help him if he ever gets pregnant, that’s all I can say!’

Cassie chuckled. ‘Well, you’re not the only one nurturing new life,’ she quipped. ‘Tell him my seeds have grown into little buds. That should cheer him up.’ The seed tray had sprouted not grass this time but a mass of tiny buds with shiny leaves.

‘Shall do.’

‘Everything going okay with the baby, though? Stand up so I can see your bump.’

Suzy stood up and presented her miraculous profile. ‘To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was growing a cupcake,’ she said, patting it tenderly. She was not yet five months gone and she already had an impressive bump.

Cassie sighed enviously. ‘You are so lucky. I suppose Archie’s just mooning about with happiness, is he? He’s been trying to breed mini-Suzies for years.’

Suzy pulled a face as she sat back down. ‘Eww. Don’t mention Archie and mooning in the same sentence! A big white bottom just flashed in front of my eyes.’

Cassie giggled. ‘You two are too happy. It’s hateful.’

‘Ah, but your time shall come,’ Suzy sighed, head tipped back to the side again.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t count on it, Suze.’

‘Hey, you can’t let a little international incident like pictures of you naked being toured around the world and printed in the most prestigious glossy magazines stand between you and Mr Right. I still say Luke Laidlaw’s the man for you.’

Even Cassie had to laugh at that. If there was anything to be salvaged from the situation, it was that it had successfully pressed the delete button on her lingering feelings for him. Claude had been right that night – Luke had exploited and humiliated and traded upon her, all in the cause of boosting his various reputations. All that was left between them now was litigation.

‘I think you’re right,’ Cassie said as she heard Anouk’s footsteps in the hall outside. ‘I think I should go over there and
make
Claude let me in. I mean, he surely can’t hold me responsible for the whole fracas?’ She sighed. ‘I just don’t think I can bear it if he stops teaching me, Suze. I think I’d have to leave Paris. I honestly do. It’s become the defining reason for being here.’

‘Well, the sooner you get here the better, as far as I’m concerned. I need someone to talk some sense into Kelly.’ She shook her fists in the air. ‘You know she asked for a gun salute?’

‘No! But Brett’s not army.’

‘I know. And I tried telling her you cannot have guns going off in SW3. Just think of all the pigeons you’d take out! It’d be horrific.’

Cassie chuckled again just as she heard Anouk’s key jingling outside the door. ‘I’d better go. Anouk’s not up to par at the moment either.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Very tense. I think there are big problems with Pierre.’

‘Oh no.’ Suzy tipped her head again.

‘Mmmm. She won’t talk about it, of course, but it’s all been rumbling on for weeks now. I’d better go pour her a glass of wine.’

‘Well, give her a hug from me.’

‘I will. And big hugs to you two,’ she said, flicking her eyes down to Cupcake.

The screen went black, and Cassie turned with a sigh from her happy friend to her sad one.

She knocked again. She’d been out here in the drizzle for fifteen minutes but he was refusing to answer. She pressed the intercom buzzer and spoke into it with more bullishness than she actually felt.