The Perfect Location (18 page)

Growing up in Hollywood, she knew it was still a man’s world; in fact, it was not just Hollywood which was run by men, the whole world seemed like that, no matter what Oprah said on her show each week. As she drove over to the hotel, she had thought about Calypso’s options as a young, beautiful actress from Hollywood. She didn’t have a chance in hell to get out of this unscathed, and this made Sapphira’s blood boil. Raphael would cry consensual sex and Calypso would have to testify in court, her name and career dragged through the mud. The studios were careful of their actors, and Calypso was a rising star who did not have the runs on the board to get out of a scandal like this. Everyone knew it, even her. Not going to the police was smart, agreed Sapphira, but letting Raphael get away with this was not an option. They had discussed it after TG left Jack’s villa.

‘You sure you want to do this?’ asked Jack as he walked her to her bedroom upstairs.

‘Yep, I haven’t a worry in the world. Whatever happens to him after this is not my problem, but at least I know girls like Calypso will be safe from him in the future,’ said Sapphira defiantly.

‘Vigilante De Mont,’ laughed Jack. ‘What a night. I swear I haven’t had this much action in years. I’m getting too old for this shit!’ he said, doing a Danny Glover impersonation.

‘I’m sorry about the whole thing earlier,’ said Sapphira as she opened the bedroom door.

Jack stood and looked at her seriously. ‘I know you have to get to the point of wanting to get off it, but when the time comes, I hope you will consider my offer. I will do anything I can to help you, Sapphira, and I know your life will be better than you can imagine off heroin. I hope you realize that one day soon.’

Sapphira hugged him close. ‘Jack, you are a true friend. I think you are my only friend. I don’t want to fuck this up.’

‘You won’t, babe. We have a good thing going,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘Off to bed now, okay?’ And he smacked her butt.

‘Anything?’ she asked, jokingly.

He cocked his head to one side as if listening to himself. ‘Nope, still gay.’ He shrugged his shoulders and Sapphira laughed.

Lying in bed, she thought about Jack. It was incredible he had managed to maintain his secret from a world which was obsessed with his every move and relationship. That was a true actor, she thought as she closed her eyes.

Sleeping fitfully, she woke late and padded downstairs to find Jack, as refined as ever, in a blue silk dressing gown with white trim. Sitting in the kitchen, he was being served breakfast by his housekeeper – fresh fruits, bread and coffee. Sapphira took the coffee he held out to her, gratefully.

‘How did you sleep?’ asked Jack as he leafed through his morning paper.

‘Not so great, weird dreams and thoughts about last night. All a bit too much, even for me,’ she said ruefully.

Jack closed the paper. ‘Let’s get dressed and then I will fly you back to Perugia and we’ll put our plan into action. But first, your clothes. You look like an off-duty Pussycat Doll. The paps have already caught on to our little “affair”, according to my publicist, the photos are all over the web of us together last night, and while I’m not so worried about them associating me with you, I am concerned I could be photographed with you looking like that,’ he said, pointing up and down at her sweat pants and singlet.

Sapphira threw a grape at him. ‘Fuck off.’

‘I’ve taken the liberty of ringing my friend, Chiara, who manages Gucci in Venice and she has had a few things sent over for you to choose from. They’re in my bedroom if you want to go and pick something that looks suitable for the lover of the sexiest man in the world.’ He said the last sentence in a deep voice like Barry White.

Sapphira rolled her eyes as she exited the kitchen to find an outfit. On Jack’s bed were boxes and dress bags and at least ten shoeboxes. Sapphira opened them to find pants and dresses, tops in gorgeous silks and accessories. Jewellery, watches, sunglasses and hats. If Sapphira were into fashion, then this would have been like Christmas, but instead she found herself overwhelmed. ‘Jack?’ she called down the stairs.

‘Coming,’ he cried and ran up to her. ‘Fashion crisis?’

‘I’m not so good at this. What the hell will I put on? I always wear the same thing, which is fine for me but this is too much,’ she said, waving her hand over the bounty on the bed.

‘Okay, well, I always think about the role I want to play when I dress up. Am I going for urbane man about town or casual playboy?’

‘Is there a difference?’ asked Sapphira sarcastically.

‘Oh, honey, I have so much to teach you,’ he said, pursing his lips.

‘Okay, I take it back. How on earth did I ever think you were straight? You are gayer than a Mexican tablecloth,’ she said, holding out her arms to her sides. ‘All right, Henry Higgins, I am your Eliza. Dress me!’

Jack looked over the clothes and pulled out several pieces and then stood back and looked at her. He then went back and scrabbled through the bags till he found what he was searching for.

‘Put your hair in a ponytail. Low and to the side,’ he commanded. ‘Minimal make-up but red lips please. You will find a Nars lipstick in the drawer in your bathroom called Red Lizard, which will do fine,’ he said imperiously.

‘I don’t even want to ask how you know that,’ said Sapphira as she walked to her bedroom on the other side of the hall. When she emerged, Jack had the clothes laid out on the bed.

‘All right, get your gear off,’ he ordered.

Sapphira paused.

‘It’s okay, sex kitten, what you got cooking I ain’t eating,’ Jack said, taking the labels off them.

Sapphira quickly undressed and stood naked in front of him. ‘Very nice,’ he said, appraising her. ‘Although a little heroin chic. Some weight would serve you well at some stage.’

Sapphira narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Careful there, tiger.’

Ignoring her, he pulled out a garment. ‘All right, step into this.’

He held out some pant legs for her. Pulling them up around her, she saw it was a jersey jumpsuit, with a singlet top and the thinnest spaghetti straps Sapphira had ever seen. ‘How does this stay up?’ she asked.

‘It’s a boob tube top, the straps are for show,’ Jack said, straightening them out.

The jersey clung to her frame and lengthened her legs even further than they already were. The black showed off her skin and tattoos, giving her the air of a rock chick on holiday. Jack pulled out a scarf, brown and black with the Gucci pattern printed subtly across it and with a dark purple edging. Laying it flat, he folded it in a long bandage style and wrapped it around her head, tying it underneath. He pulled open the shoebox on the pillow and held a purple patent leather sandal with a single gold zip on the side. ‘Put these on,’ he said.

Standing back from Sapphira, he smiled. ‘Nearly done, my little Galatea.’ Taking a magenta leather bag from the bed, he handed it to her. ‘Done,’ he said, stepping back to survey his handiwork.

Sapphira looked in the mirror. ‘I don’t look like myself, but I look okay, I guess,’ she said, unimpressed by the image reflected back at her.

‘You look amazing. I’m not a big fan of wearing all the same designer, it’s a little Japanese or Russian for my taste but you gotta work with what you got. Gimme a moment and I will change and we’ll head off. I’ve called the helicopter for midday.’

Sapphira packed her few things from the night before and put them into her new Gucci bag. Finding her toothbrush she laughed and then cleaned her teeth, careful to not destroy her lipstick. Hearing Jack call for her, she went downstairs to find him in a complementary ensemble: black pants and a black t-shirt. While simple, the clothes hung on his frame perfectly. Standing next to each other, they looked like the quintessential Hollywood couple. As Sapphira went to open the door, Jack stopped her. ‘Wait,’ he said, and pulled a pair of tortoiseshell, large-framed sunglasses from his pocket and put them on her face. ‘Now we are ready.’

Placing a pair of aviators on his chiselled face, he picked up his bags. ‘I’m going to stay at yours for a while. That okay?’

Sapphira shrugged. ‘I guess so, although I’m quite boring, so don’t expect much fun.’

‘Lucky I packed my own fun!’ said Jack as he handed his bags to the captain of the boat at the door.

As they walked into the sunshine, towards the water limousine to take them to the helicopter, Sapphira heard the cameras around them. The clicking and whirring and the calls of their names from the paparazzi startled her a little. She climbed into the boat with Jack holding her hand. As she navigated the gangplank in her new shoes, she smiled her thanks to him and they settled into the privacy underneath the deck.

The photos were shown around the world. Sapphira’s look, as styled by Jack, was copied by every fashion outlet and Gucci sold out of all the pieces she was wearing in three days. A new Hollywood power couple was in town.

Now Sapphira was dressed to seduce, again, styled by Jack. They had laughed all morning going through her clothes at his running commentary on her style. ‘I’m surprised you’re not gay either. You have this whole lesbian chic thing going on.’

‘I’ve been with women, but I wouldn’t call myself gay or straight, for that matter. I’m not into labels, unlike you,’ she said playfully.

Jack had chosen her outfit but even Sapphira thought she looked good. She had not entertained the thought for a moment that Raphael would deny her. He was an easy target – too easy for Sapphira, and one she would not normally bother with, but today was not about her.

The lift opened and she found the number of the penthouse suite TG had said he was staying in. Knowing he was about to fly to America to meet his new US agents, she had to work fast. She knocked at the door. Raphael opened it and his mouth dropped.

‘Hello,’ said Sapphira sexily, inside laughing to herself.

‘
Ciao, bella
,’ said Raphael back at her. He knew who she was, he had seen her films and was disappointed when he was cast that they would not have any scenes together. ‘Come in,’ he said, gesturing her inside.

Sapphira walked in and stood in the centre of the room. ‘I just wanted to say “hi”. I’m a big fan and was so sad we weren’t having any scenes together.’

Raphael couldn’t believe his luck. ‘I was thinking the same thing. We are together in our minds,’ he said, laughing. He eyed her breasts and legs hungrily, imagining he could fuck her then boast about it to his friends.

Sapphira saw the way he looked her over. The man was disgusting, she thought, as she put her hands on her hips.

‘So I was thinking, maybe we could, you know, hang out,’ she said casually.

Raphael looked at her then at the clock next to his bed. His car service was coming in five minutes to take him to the airport – not enough time for a fuck but maybe she could blow him and they could save the best till he got back. He walked towards her and stood in front of her, almost menacingly. ‘Maybe we can hang out a little now?
Si
?’

He bent over her and kissed her hard on the mouth, his fat tongue rolling around her teeth. Stopping herself from pulling away, Sapphira responded, kissing him harder and then biting his tongue.

‘Ow, what the fuck?’ he held his tongue, tasting blood in his mouth.

‘Sorry, baby,’ purred Sapphira, trying not to laugh, thinking about what Jack would say. ‘I like to bite sometimes when I get horny.’

Raphael decided to not push on the blowjob he was hoping for, since she liked to bite. Instead he grabbed at her breasts and pinched the nipples making them erect. Sapphira tried not to jump. That fucking hurt, she thought. What had he done to Calypso if this was what he was like with her?

‘I have to go to America now but I’ll be back in three days. Maybe we can hang out, as you say, then.’ He was still playing with her breasts, his hands rough on the outside of her singlet.

She smiled and put her hand into her pocket then she put her arms around his waist. Slipping both hands into the pockets of his tight jeans, she squeezed his ass, hard, and she felt his cock harden against her hip.

‘I would love that. Call me when you come back, okay? We can hang out and fuck, hopefully.’

Raphael looked at her; she was his kind of woman. ‘I am going to fuck you so hard you will cry,’ he said arrogantly.

Like you did Calypso, no doubt, she thought angrily, but instead she sucked his bottom lip, and then bit it hard. ‘You never know, I might make you cry,
bello
,’ she said as she walked out of the room. ‘
Ciao
,’ she said, as she left him blotting his lip with toilet paper.

Returning to the villa, she found Jack waiting at the front door. ‘Well?’ he asked expectantly.

‘Done,’ she said and walked inside. ‘I have to take these shoes off, they’re killing my feet.’

Taking off her shoes, she walked into the lounge room and sat on a chair. ‘First I’ve got to make the phone call, then we wait.
Si
?’ she said coquettishly to Jack.

‘What was he like? I can only imagine from what I’ve heard,’ asked Jack as Sapphira rubbed her feet.

‘Want me to do that? I’ve done it before,’ he said, reminding her of the day on set not long ago when she was afraid of him seeing track marks between her toes.

‘I was so sure you noticed the track marks on my feet.’

‘I didn’t but I picked up something weird about you. I wasn’t sure what. You seemed so edgy and worried,’ said Jack as he rubbed her feet.

Sapphira looked at his hands. ‘Well, now you know, and I know about you, and only you and I know about that disgusting pig, Raphael. He was awful, rough, leering and so filled with testosterone I wanted to throw up. I hate men like him.’

‘Well, let’s hope he gets what he deserves,’ said Jack.

‘All right, I’m going to make my call.’

Sapphira left the room and Jack walked around the sitting room in her villa. It was as though she didn’t live there. No personal items were out at all. Nothing was touched. The magazines were straight on the table, the sofa cushions all carefully plumped by her housekeeper, he supposed. What room did she sleep in, he wondered.