quiet dinner in a romantic Italian restaurant he hailed a cab, and
instead of giving the driver her address he gave him his.
"I want you to hear the new Joni Mitchell album," he said, putting his
arm around her.
"I'd love to," she replied.
Well, Roberts, what are you going to do?
I don't know.
You'd better decide.
I can't.
Why?
Good question. Why couldn't she decide?
The answer came out of nowhere.
Because I still love Nick Angelo.
"You're quiet tonight," Jimmy said, taking her hand in his. "Something
I said?"
She shivered, trying to block the memory of Nick from her mind.
"No, I'm tired. I had a tough day."
"Too tired to listen to Joni Mitchell?"
He was asking one question with his mouth and another with his eyes.
"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," she replied, while voices
continued to scream inside her head.
All he wants is a quick lay-that's what they all want.
You sound like your mother.
I'll sound like her ill want!
"We're here," he said, paying the driver and helping her from the
cab.
She followed him into the elevator-filled with trepidation. Jimmy
Cassady seemed like a genuinely nice guy.
Sure, they all do until they get what they want, and then they dump
you, run out on you, leave you alone and pregnant. Leave you leave you
. leave you .
"What are you thinking?" he asked, squeezing her hand.
"Nothing," she said, banishing Nick from her thoughts and concentratihg
on Jimmy. What did she know about him? Not that much.
He'd told her he'd come to New York from Missouri seven years ago and
started out as a photographer's assistant-moving out on his own four
years later. For the past three years he'd been building his
reputation as one of the most innovative photographers around with his
stark black-and-white images.
In the course of talking to some of the girls she'd discovered nothing
about his personal life. Usually the models gave chapter and verse on
every photographer they'd worked with-including graphic details of
size, sexual preferences and how many times they liked to do it a
night. There were no reports on Jimmy-except from Nature, who'd worked
with him once and then announced, wide-eyed with surprise, "Well, e's
gotter be gay, ein'the? Cause e din't even hit on me once!"
After their fourth date, when he'd dropped her outside her apartment
with only a kiss, she'd thought that maybe Nature was right.
But tonight she knew it wasn't so, he had that look in his eyes and she
was well aware he was all set to make the big move.
His apartment wasn't an apartment at all-it was loft space, divided
into compartments by six-foot stucco walls that stopped far short of
the soaring ceilings. His furniture was minimal modern-everything
either black, white or stainless steel. Stark, like his photographs.
"This place is amazing," she exclaimed, wandering around, taking in
every detail. "Did you design it yourself?"
He laughed. "No professional decorator could come up with this.
Besides, I happen to like it."
"So do I," she said, exploring further. "But you have to admit-it is
different."
"That's why I like it," he said, following her into the compact
stainless-steel kitchen. He moved closer. "That's why I like you," he
added, unexpectedly pinning her up against the cold steel of the
refrigerator door and kissing her on the mouth. No stalling. No
"Would you like a drink?" or "Can I give you a tour?" He didn't even
bother putting on the Joni Mitchell album he'd been talking about all
night.
Hard and sensual. Not like his usual goodnight peck. This was
definitely the real thing.
She gasped for breath, but he didn' t stop.
For a moment she resisted, her body rigid-not allowing him to get too
close.
He persevered, and slowly she felt herself begin to respond-a warmth
sweeping up her body, a tidal wave of desire so long repressed that it
took her by surprise-rendering her helpless to resist.
After a few minutes his hands moved down to her breasts, touching,
feeling, stroking.
She began a halffiearted objection. "Jimmy . . I don't know "I do,"
he said, hands creeping down the neckline of her dress, moving around
to the back and unhooking her bra.
And all the while his lips remained on hers, his insistent tongue
exploring her mouth, his warm breath all over her.
She threw her head back and surrendered as he exposed her breasts and
his lips traveled slowly down to the tips of her nipples.
Gently he pushed both her breasts together, tonguing her nipples
simultaneously. Then his hands moved slowly to her back, working the
zipper on her dress and it fell to the floor.
be nosed her eves ftvin not to think of Nick. fryin to foret him once
and for all. This was all happening so fast, and yet she felt
powerless to stop him.
"You smell so good," he whispered.
It didn't matter anymore, nothing mattered. She'd reached the point of
no return, he could do whatever he liked.
He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, placing her gently in
the middle of his large waterbed.
She lay back and opened up her soul to him. There was no choice
anymore, she'd been lonely too long.
And Nick Angelo was never coming back.
"I'm getting married," Lauren said, nervously clenching her fists.
Samm glanced up from a contract she was studying and raised her
oversized horn-rimmed glasses. "What did you say?"
"Married," she replied, as if this wasn't a major announcement.
Now she had Samm's full attention. "I don't believe it!" the older
woman said, placing her glasses on the desk.
"It's true," she managed, sounding a lot calmer than she felt.
Samm reached for one of her long thin cigarillos, her blood-red nails
lethal weapons. "And may I ask to whom?"
"Jimmy Cassady."
"My Jimmy Cassady?" Samm was very possessive of all the photographers
who worked with her girls-she felt every one of them belonged to her.
Lauren nodded. "I guess so.
Samm was silent for a moment while she digested this unexpected
information. Then she said, "Isn't this rather sudden?"
Lauren felt like a schoolkid standing in front of the principal. Why
was she putting herself through this? She didn't owe Samm an
explanation. "We've been seeing each other for six weeks," she said.
And sleeping together for three, she wanted to add, but didn't. Her
sex life was her business.
Samm picked up a thin gold pen and tapped it on her lacquered
desktop.
"Six weeks is not a long time to get to know someone."
"Long enough for me," she replied, thinking that she certainly didn't
need a lecture from Samm.
"Don't you think-" Samm bean.
"Congratulations would be nice," Lauren snapped, shattering her "good
little Lauren" image once
and for all. "Oh, and I'm giving you two
weeks' notice-Jimmy wants me to work with him."
Samm was too wise to say another word. Lauren was obviously under
Jimmy Cassady's influence and nothing she said would make any
difference. Men! They'd caused her more problems over the years than
she cared to think about. Usually it was the models who got hooked by
a glamorous playboy or some fast-talking would-be manager. She
certainly hadn't expected Lauren to get swept away.
Samm might be skeptical, but the girls in the office thought it was
sensational news. Pia seemed especially pleased for her. And when
Nature heard, she made a special trip to the office, shrieking, "This
is bleedin' smashing! So, e's not a fag after all!"
Trust Nature to come right out with it.
From the moment they'd slept together Jimmy had started talking about
marriage. He wanted to do it immediately. "What's the point of
waiting?" he'd demanded.
The point ofwaiting is to decide whether we're making a mistake.
Samm was right-six weeks was not a lot of time to get to know
somebody.
But the more she got to know Jimmy, the more special she decided he
was, and certainly different from the other men she'd come across in
New York.
Even so, at first she'd said no.
"Why not?" Jimmy persisted.
She could think of no good reason.
He'd pressed until she finally changed her mind. Jimmy was attractive,
serious about his work, a good lover, and he genuinely seemed to care
for her. Besides, she was swept up in the excitement of his desire.
And the thought of belonging to someone and being safe was too tempting
to resist.
She didn't love him-whatever love was. But maybe that would come in
time.
Once she'd said yes, they both agreed they should do it as soon as
possible. For one rash moment she'd considered calling her aunt and
uncle in Philadelphia, but then she'd changed her mind. Who needed
Brad knowing? Besides, both she and Jimmy wanted the ceremony to be as
simple as possible.
"What about your family?" she'd asked.
"We lost touch," he'd said vaguely.
"How come?"
He'd raised an eyebrow. "Am I questioning you?"
Soul mates.
Pia announced she wanted to throw her a wedding shower, but she was
soon overruled by Nature, who decided a proper bachelor-girl bash was
more in order. "You deserve it," Nature announced cheerfully. "You
work ever so hard lookin' after us all, now it's our turn to do
something for you.
In a way Lauren wished she hadn't told anybody. Maybe it would have
been better if they'd just done it quietly with no fuss.
Too late now, Nature had plans.
Lauren protested, but Nature-as usual-refused to listen. "Be at me
apartment next Saturday at six o'clock. And don't expect to get home
until three in the morning-that's if you're lucky!"
There was no point in fighting Nature, she was like a great big Mack
truck. The safest thing to do was climb aboard and enjoy the ride.
As the days passed Lauren realized leaving Samm's was going to be a
wrench-she'd made so many good friends there. But Jimmy assured her it
would be fun for her to help him out at his studio, and it didn't seem
like such a bad idea.
Meanwhile there was so much to do. They had to take blood tests, get a
marriage license-and finally she went shopping with Pia, searching for
the perfect outfit, which Samm insisted on paying for.
By the night of the wedding shower she was a wreck. Nature was in top
form, screaming and yelling all over the place. She'd ordered a convoy
of limos for the night, and following behind the limos she surprised
everyone with six leather-jacketed bikers sitting astride their
Harleys.
"Ein't it nice having an escort," Nature joked, winking
conspiratorially at the convoy of guys. "Muscles an' black leather-me
favorite combination!"
First they went to an Italian restaurant, where everyone presented
Lauren with their gifts. She managed to put a good face on it, opening
the presents one by one and dutifully exclaiming that each gift was
exactly what she wanted.
Nature presented her with a huge black vibrator, which elicited much
mirth around the table.
When she was finished with her gifts, one of the better-looking bikers
swaggered into the restaurant, hit a button on a tape machine and
proceeded to do a raunchy strip to the Stones' "Satisfaction." He was
merely the appetizer, because from there they all piled back into the
limos and headed for a male strip club.
Lauren watched in fascinated amazement as the guys at the club proudly
presented their assets-thrusting them into the eager audience's
faces.
"Too many dicks," Pia said solemnly.
"Don't you mean assholes?" Lauren murmured, longing to get out of
there.
Nature was in her element-hooting and hollering at the guys to take it
off, sticking ten-dollar bills down their G-strings, loving every
minute.
At last it was over, and they dropped her back at her apartment.
She fell thankfully into bed. As far as she was concerned the evening
had been a nightmare-like some dreadful hazing ceremony. Still they'd
meant well, and she was lucky to have people who cared about her.
The next day she gave up her apartment and moved all her things over to
Jimmy's place. That night they ate dinner by candlelight and made
love. For the first time since leaving Bosewell Lauren felt she
finally belonged somewhere, and she knew that her decision to marry
Jimmy was the right one. She fell asleep in his arms, happy and
content.
The day before the wedding Pia picked her up and took her over to her
place. "You can't stay with your future husband the night before the
wedding," she scolded. "It's big bad luck."
In the morning Nature arrived, breezing through Pia's apartment,
bossily taking over." Ere," she said, removing a large sapphire ring
from her finger. "Youll wear this. It covers borrowed, blue and
new.
Now all we've got to worry about is getting you something old."
Pia produced a pair of exquisite filigree earrings. "These were my
great-grandmother's," she said, handing them over. "I'd be honored if
you wore them."
Lauren put on the oyster satin suit Samm had bought her, Pia's earrings
and the sapphire ring.
Nature peered at her critically. "I wish you'd let me fix your air."
"I like it just the way it is."
"Yeah, all neat and understated," Nature replied. "Unlike me," she
added, fluffing out her blond curls.
"You look beautiful, Lauren," Pia whispered.
They set off in a white stretch limousine-Nature's choice. "Shut your
eyes and pretend you're a rock star," she giggled.
By the time they arrived at City Hall Lauren's stomach was doing
somersaults. The driver helped her out of the car and she entered the
building, flanked by her friends.
They bumped into Samm by the el
evator. "How are you feeling?"
Samm asked, chic as ever in a scarlet Chanel suit.
"Nervous," she replied.
"It doesn't show. You look lovely."
"Thanks." Her throat felt dry as she clutched her corsage of white
orchids and wished that everything was over and done with.
Pia and Nature ushered her into a side room to await the arrival of the
bridegroom. Jimmy was coming alone. When she'd asked him who his best
man was, he'd replied he didn't want one. "I travel solo," he'd
said.
Fine with her. Maybe that's why they got along so well.
She couldn't sit still. She got up, pacing nervously up and down the
small room, her mind racing this way and that. A few minutes seemed
like an eternity.
Nature kept checking her watch. "E's bleedin' late, ein'the," she
finally said in an exasperated voice.