Picture Perfect (3 page)

Chapter 5.

Paul didn’t refer to my forthcoming escapade at all during the meal but he wished me all the best as I left to go to Roger’s house. If he had renewed his objections at this stage I might have reconsidered my stand, because I was feeling uncharacteristically edgy after my dream, but he didn’t. As usual, Maria and Fluff led the way into Roger’s studio. My dream sequence and its meaning still puzzled me, but I shook my head and tried to forget it for the time being. I had other things to attend to right now. Roger smiled at me as I entered and asked hopefully, “Well, poppet, what did you decide?”

I noticed that my heartbeat increased significantly as I replied, “Get out your brushes, Roger. I’m all yours.”

Roger gave a little squeal of delight and he rushed over to hug me. “Thank you, pet,” he exclaimed. “I’m so
excited
about this. It’ll make a
fantastic
picture!” Then he sat me down and explained his idea of the pose I was to adopt. “You’ll do your meditation thing again, I trust?” he reminded me. “With these types of paintings, it’s essential that you don’t move, because every miniscule movement is reflected in the skin.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Are you ready then, my dear?” he asked.

I took a breath. “I guess so,” I told him.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

I shed my clothes and took up the suggested pose. I was sitting sideways on a chair, cross legged and looking away into the distance. Roger gently rearranged my arms, stood back, squinted and then returned to rotate my face slightly.

“Lovely,” he commented. “
Hold
that pose, Kim, if you please.”

I retreated into my meditative calmness, keeping only a provisional hold on this reality. I couldn’t keep track of time in this state, so I had no idea how long I had been posing before vague voices began to filter through my consciousness. My intellect began to clarify what I had been hearing and I mentally re-entered Roger’s studio to see three rather muscle-bound individuals standing over Roger in a threatening manner.

“Where’s the
money
?” one of them demanded.

“Yeah, you’re a little late this month,” the second one announced.

“Who’s the bimbo?” the third one wanted to know, glancing in my direction. The other two then looked over at me but I pretended not to notice. I was considering my options.
Three against
one
, I mused,
with the one not particularly dressed for action
. Not that it mattered, I supposed. In fact, it might be an advantage in a brawl. I imagined that any male, fighting a
naked
female, may have slower reactions than normal. They’d probably spend a fair amount of time
gawping
instead of punching. I wriggled a little for show, uttered a tiny shriek and put my hands over my mouth, pretending to be terrified. That achieved the desired result. All three of them strolled over to leer at me. I stood up, causing their eyes to widen substantially and then I ducked behind the chair, griping it tightly, in a feigned attempt at modesty. When they were close enough, I swung the chair around in a circle, catching two of them alongside the head. The third stood still, uncomprehendingly, as I spun around and kicked him in the stomach. He flew backwards because, after all, a kick to the stomach is a
kick
to the stomach,
regardless
if the leg delivering it has pants on or not. Then I sprang between the other two, who were staggering around in a daze after being hit with the chair, and punched both of them in the head. They collapsed without a sound. Overall, it was a short burst of exertion, but exhilarating.

Roger was staring at me in amazement. Secretly, I had been hoping for a bit of
lust
in his stare – he
was
a handsome man after all – but no such luck. A lustful stare now and again does wonders for a girl’s ego, you know. It lets you know that you’ve still ‘
got it
’, but Roger was a being spoilsport and refusing to boost my ego this time around. Maybe I was
past
the stage of getting lustful stares. I sighed and looked around for my clothes. I guessed that the modelling session was over for the day. I found my garments and dressed quickly and went back to Roger who still staring at me.

“What was
that
all that about?” I asked.

He shook himself and returned to reality. “You shouldn’t have
done
that, Kim,” he remonstrated. “Now you’ve made them mad.”

“
What
!” I exclaimed. “They were going to beat you up. What was I
supposed
to do? Sit there and let it happen?”

“That might have been for the best,” Roger concluded morosely. “Now they’ll want their money and
vengeance
to boot.”

“Roger,
what’s
going on?” I asked. “Tell me,” I urged. “Maybe something can be done. Just who
are
those guys?”

Roger drew a weary hand across his forehead. “They belong to a local mobster,” he began, “who specialises in protection rackets. I pay him a monthly fee to see that nothing ‘
happens
’ to me. It’s been going on for three months already. I forgot that this was the collection day.”

“Why didn’t you go to the
police
?” I demanded.

Roger snorted. “The police? Don’t make me laugh! Everyone around here knows that they’re hand in glove with all the local crime figures. They get a weekly cut of all the illegal monies going around.” He twisted his hands together in anguish. “They threatened to break my fingers, Kim! My
fingers
! Do you realise what that
means
to an artist? I wouldn’t be able to draw or paint. It’d negate my whole existence. I
had
to give in to them! I just
had
to!”

“Hey, I understand,” I told him, putting a comforting arm around his shoulder. “No one’s blaming you. They’re clever. That’s probably the most effective threat they could have made against you. There’s no fault here.”

Roger looked at me gratefully. “But what do we do with these….gentlemen?” he asked, indicating his three assailants, still sprawled on the floor.

“Let’s just kick them into the street,” I suggested, “and leave them there as a warning.”

“But what happens
after
that?” he fussed. “They’ll come back for sure and they won’t be very
happy
.”

“I see your point,” I conceded. “That may be a problem. But if just
one
person stands up to them, maybe all of the others they leach off will band together and do something
about
it. It’s worth a try.”

“But maybe that one person will be made an
example
of,” Roger concluded pessimistically, “to keep the others in line.”

“
Another
good point,” I said. “But what if the person who beat them up in the first place was to
stay
in your house in the meantime to prevent further attacks……..?”

I was subjected to Roger’s stare once again.

“Really?” he asked, hopefully. “The person in question would
do
that?”

“The chances are fairly high,” I assured him. “Provided the one being threatened agreed, of course.”

“I could probably persuade that person to agree,” Roger said carefully, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “When exactly do you think this ‘moving in’ process would happen?”

“I see no reason why it couldn’t happen right now,” I informed him. “The person would have to move in some clothes and all of that sort of stuff first, of course, and bring along a brother as well, but I’m sure it could be arranged in an hour or so.”

“Sound marvellous to me,” Roger enthused.

“But,
first
of all, how about giving me a hand to drag our friends out of the house?” I suggested.

Chapter 6.

Paul didn’t seem at all surprised at the unusual turn of events. Over the years, he’d become quite used to my little escapades and their consequences. He packed what he thought he’d need and I did the same. Soon we were back at Roger’s house, surrounded by our suitcases. Roger welcomed us nervously and Maria showed us to the guest bedroom. There was only the one, so Paul and I had to share, but we’d been in these types of situations before, so it was no big deal. Luckily, the room held two single beds, so our sleeping arrangements were in place.

We settled in and then it was time for dinner. Maria did all the cooking around the place, so all we had to do was to show up for mealtimes. Luckily, the food was excellent. Maria’s cooking skills were at a five star chef level, which was one less item to worry about. Roger was a bit dithery during the meal, which was totally understandable, given his circumstances. I tried to calm him down, but had little success until Paul asked to see some of his paintings. Roger’s eyes lit up and he became enthusiastic at the prospect. We toured around his collection, accompanied by a self-important Fluff and truly, it was awe inspiring. The man had so much talent. His painting style varied widely, but, regardless of style, his paintings always had that touch of brilliance. Paul was enraptured by his portrayal of me, even though it wasn’t quite finished. No, not the
naked
one – I didn’t want him to see
that
– but the
first
one Roger had composed.

“It’s Kim, with a capital K,” he announced, after staring at the painting for several minutes. “Roger, you’ve captured her
perfectly
. I can see the inner fire and determination that defines her, almost as if it jumped out of the canvas and bit me on the leg. You, sir, are an Artist, and that’s with a capital A.”

Roger waved aside Paul’s praise with his hand. “She makes it so easy,” he explained. “I’m simply putting down what she’s showing to me, that’s all.”

“Do you mind not talking about me as if I was invisible,” I told them with some asperity. “I’m right
here
, you know.”

“So you are, sweetheart,” Paul said. “Sorry about that. But you have to admit that this painting is a beauty.”

“Agreed,” I confirmed.

“It’s not finished,” Roger broke in, “But it shows definite promise. I hope Kim will allow me to do a whole series of her. She inspires me.”

After Roger had finished showing us his works, I prowled around the house, looking for access points. With Roger’s permission I went shopping for security items and returned with dead bolts, locks and steel bars and proceeded to fortify his house against extraneous entry. After I was convinced that the house was reasonably secure, Roger called for a painting session, saying that our earlier one had been interrupted and he wanted to continue it. I had no quarrels with that and went up to his studio, slipped out of my clothes and rearranged myself on the chair once again. Roger adjusted my limbs to his satisfaction and commenced drawing.

After some time, I vaguely became aware of something tickling me. I blearily opened my eyes and found Fluff, nestled on my lap, busily licking my stomach.

“Fluff! You
wicked
dog!” Roger yelled. “Get
off
at once!”

Fluff looked at Roger disdainfully but obligingly jumped down from my lap after one final lick and went out the door.

“Sorry about that,” Roger mumbled. “He must have sneaked in while I wasn’t watching. He obviously
likes
you though.”

“He probably thinks I taste like
ham
,” I replied with a grimace. “I’m not sure he likes me for myself.”

Roger laughed and remarked that he’d like to try me with sunglasses on, just to see the effect.

“I have a pair in my room,” I said. “I’ll go get them. I won’t be a minute.”

I scurried out, not bothering to get dressed, as my room was just down the corridor to the studio. I found the sunglasses on the bureau and turned around to head back when Paul walked into the room. I stood still, petrified. Any display of modesty, of trying to cover myself with my hands, would have been hypocritical and ludicrous at that stage. Paul, to his credit, didn’t look away, despite his aversion to public nudity, especially
mine
.

“This is the moment we’ve always
avoided
, isn’t it?’ he said softly. “At least I have, anyway.” Then he gave me a gentle, protective smile. “You’re very
beautiful
, you know. I can see why so many people you meet fall for you.”

“Thank you,” I said simply.

“I guess I’ll never view you in quite the same way ever again,” he commented wryly.

“I suppose not,” I agreed, still not moving. “Paul, I’m
so
sorry.”

“
Don’t
be sorry, sweetie,” he disagreed. “It was bound to happen one day. At least I’ll be able to look at your other pictures now without closing my eyes. I’m
proud
of you.”

He turned around and walked out of the room. The spell was broken and I went back to the studio with a light heart.