Tricks. - Part 24
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Part 24

We Drove Down to the Beach By the time we parked, got out, and walked a little way, barefoot in the cool, damp sand near the water's edge, I had mostly sobered up.

I sat, combing the sand with my toes, as I told him pretty much everything about my pitiful life.

When I talked about Kyra and Mom, he kept nodding. Turns out he, his brother, and father have a similar relationship. Like Dad, Shane is a high-priced criminal attorney.

And me? Well, I'm just a lowly photographer. Never mind that I've shot most of the top modeling talent in this country.

Which explained the company name on his business card: Perfect Poses.

"So what are you doing in Santa Cruz? Why not L.A. or New York?"

He exhaled deeply. My dad lives in Los Angeles. But my mom hated the city. She lived here ...

until she died a few weeks ago.

"Oh wow. I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't ..." I couldn't finish.

I had sure stuck my big ol'

foot in my even bigger mouth.

No. It's okay. I came here to help settle the estate. She left her house to me. So I really don't know many people here yet.

Which explained why he wasn't busy that night. In need of a subject change, I moved on to Lucas. "Not everyone here is worth knowing. ..."

I told the whole virgin thing. When I finished, he responded with a hand, placed gently on my knee. What an idiot. Does he not recognize what a gift you gave him, what an amazing opportunity you are?

You've lost not a thing, lovely lady. You've lost not one thing.

Okay, His Syntax Can be a bit elevated. Overeducated, maybe, like having a PhD in poetry, which should come from the heart, not from some cardboard rulebook.

But hey, n.o.body's perfect. And Bryn comes just about as close as a guy can come. Since that night, we've seen each other almost every day.

It hasn't been that long-only a couple of weeks. But day by day, I tumble deeper and deeper in love with him. Yeah, it was fast.

Can falling in love be too fast?

I don't think so, and neither does Bryn. Best of all, he isn't afraid to tell me he loves me.

The First Time He Told Me Was the same time as our first kiss. It was only a few days after we started seeing each other.

He said he wanted to wait, thinking I wasn't quite ready for someone new. I wanted you to be sure. Rebound things can be incredible letdowns. So stop me if you don't want to hear this, okay? I don't know how you feel about love at first sight, but that day in the mall, I knew right away that you were unique, a girl who stood out in the crowd.

And when I saw you sitting there on the curb, crying over someone who didn't deserve your broken heart, I wanted to make everything right again for you. I've never fallen for anyone so fast!

We were at our favorite beach hideaway, listening to the symphony of the waves as the sun set, tangerine, on the horizon.

Bryn pulled me into his lap, leaned his forehead against mine, kissed me softly. This is so odd for me, Whitney. I've photographed many beautiful girls. Had flings with a few. But I never felt for any of them what I already feel for you, and we barely know each other.

You are more than a pretty face.

You are beautiful inside, and that beauty radiates, shines like a star.

I know it's wrong-I am a few years older than you-but you have filled an empty place inside me.

He turned to look me in the eye.

I love you, Whitney. I really do.

Then he kissed me, and though I found hunger there, I also found the love that he professed. And now I experience that love every day.

We Haven't Made Love Yet He says he wants me to be very, very sure I want to, because he treasures me for more than just my body. I'm pretty sure I'm ready, but that isn't quite "very, very sure."

Still, maybe today will be the day.

Yes or no, first he's going to take some pics of me. I want to show you just how beautiful you are, he said.

Then he took me shopping for what he wants me to wear-a long, flowing skirt and gauzy off-the-shoulder blouse.

Both white. A celebration of virginity, was his explanation. We'll send a couple to your old boyfriend.

He meant that last part too.

It's an incredible day-seventy degrees, nonintrusive breeze.

Just enough to rile your hair, carry scents of summer blossoms.

I feel pretty, all decked out in white, with just enough makeup to enhance my features, not make them obvious, as per Bryn's request. Virginal.

We'll Do the Shoot Where else? At the beach.

But down the coast, away from town. As we S-curve along serpentine Highway 101, I can't help but think about Lucas and our first time together.

Driving this same stretch of road.

Getting high. "You don't happen to have any pot, do you?" Bryn has never offered to get high with me. Come to think of it, we've never even discussed it.

He doesn't slow down. Afraid not.

I haven't smoked marijuana in years.

I do have some Valium, if you're a little nervous. In there. He points at the center console. Valium?

Why not? "I'm not exactly nervous. But a good buzz never hurt anyone, right?" I pop one, wait for it to kick in, watching the ocean's heave. By the time we reach Bryn's chosen location, I'm feeling pretty darn fine.

We walk down the deserted beach until he finds a nice stretch of undisturbed sand. This will do.

He unpacks his gear, then checks me out, all up and down. Take off the bra and panties, okay?

We want a glimpse-a hint- of what's under all that white.

I do as instructed, allow Bryn to position me exactly the way he wants. He sits me, skirt tucked provocatively between my bent legs, and when he goes to move my arms, his hand brushes against the fabric covering my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

My nipples go hard immediately.

Lovely, he says, a.s.sessing.

Exactly what I'm after. Then he kisses me sweetly. Exactly what I'm after. He makes me feel like a real model-beautiful, every man's desire. When he's finished with his camera, he lays me back on a thick blanket.

You are exceptionally lovely, he says, brushing sand from my hair. He settles beside me, props himself on one elbow.

Bryn's free hand begins a slow exploration of my body, over the sheer fabric, tracing each curve. You don't mind, do you?

Eyes closed to the lowering sun, brain suspended on a Valium cloud, I sigh, lift my head. "Kiss me." He does, and then he lowers his mouth to other, much more intimate places. So this is making love! Well, not quite. I want to know the rest. "Make love to me."

You're sure? he asks, but there can be no doubt I'm very, very sure. Bryn guides me to a place Lucas has no idea exists.

Okay, It's Kind of Disturbing That, immediately after learning the meaning of "o.r.g.a.s.m," I think of Lucas. Maybe it's because I need to know, "Was that okay?"

Oh, darling. Bryn kisses across my face. That was more than okay. That was extraordinary.

With just a little practice, you will become perfection.

And I so want to be ...

want to be your coach. But ...

He rolls away from me-deja vu of the most terrible kind.

I jerk upright, reach out for him.

"What? What did I do?" Oh my G.o.d, he's not going to dump me too?

Nothing, baby. He accepts my hand against his cheek. It's just that I got a call this morning, from an agency in Vegas. They want me to shoot a beauty pageant, plus some pre-event studio work. I'll be gone for several weeks. Oh, sunshine, I am sure going to miss you!

My Summer Just grew a whole lot darker.

"Oh." It is barely audible, but even if I could make words come out, I wouldn't know what to say.

He takes my hand, kisses my fingertips. I probably shouldn't have ... you know.

But I couldn't help myself.

You looked like an angel.

And now I want you more than ever. If only you could ...

He shakes his head. Never mind.

"What?" What he suggests thrills me. Scares me. Tempts me. And, finally, "I'm not sure how I could pull it off."

I know. I didn't really think you could. But it would be like a dream to spend every day with you. He pulls me to my feet, and we wander up the beach toward the car, his invitation echoing inside my head: Come with me.... Come with me.

Mom's Home When Bryn drops me off. She takes one look at me-how I'm dressed, the state of my hair and makeup- goes off on a rant. Where in the h.e.l.l have you been? And with whom?

I never gave you permission to go anywhere. She catches her breath.

You do remember "permission"?

Suddenly she cares? "You do remember that you actually have to hang around the house long enough to give permission?"

Rant becomes rave. You shut the h.e.l.l up. And you'd better understand that you may not leave this house for any reason.

I want to scream. But silence is the better course of action.

"Whatever." I go to my room, flop down on my bed. Where- and why-did she find this sudden case of maternal instinct? I consider my next move carefully. Call Bryn.

"Okay. I'll go. Pick me up at ten."

A Poem by Ginger Cordell Move Carefully Who knows what lurks beneath that beautiful rock you want to turn over?

I once thought I wanted to live on a mountain. But how high before the alt.i.tude would take its toll?

Now I want to dive under deep water. But can I hold my breath, stand the pressure?

How low can I go, and will Fate keep the sharks far away, or will Destiny in fact send some hideous sea creature to catch me in its jaws, drag me down?

Ginger

They Call Vegas

Sin City, like calling it what it is somehow legitimizes the name.

Las Vegas is Sin City. Whole lot of sinning going on, from fancy high-rise casino rooms to sleazy well-off-the-strip motel dives.

People come here specifically to sin. But I wonder whether it's really true that "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

People stain themselves here.

I bet, no matter how hard they scrub themselves after sinning, when they go home, a certain amount of stain remains visible.