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Chapter One: Lucy and Mr Norris
The floor was hard and cold against et a carpet?
At least an area rug?
I guess this is what he paid me for, this disco still and holding the de pose If I didn’t love him so much I would never submit to this, but I completely adored him, so here I was And yes, he paid ularly asked
I looked up at hiaze His eyes were fixed, as always, on my supple dancer’s body offered before hiorous and intense He was actually quite robust for a man of seventy-five His name was Pietro and he was an artist And me? My name was Lucy, and unfortunately I wasn’t quite sure frouess if I had to choose I would say I was a dancer first, who just happened to fall into nude h I knew plenty of dancers who took the porn route to make ends meet Like most dancers, I wasn’t precious about my body I kneas nice and I used it when it suitedIt see painted by a real artist
The broad strokes Pietro made scratched loudly in the silence, that abrasive sound of pencil on textured canvas that I kneell by now Sometimes it irritated me, but someti to it go on Sometimes, instead, I pictured the lines of my own body as he put the and spare, all shading and lines, although my body and face were definitely there No abstract, aure It was definitely ht I was beautiful He’d told me so when he hired me “I need your beauty,” he’d rasped to me outside the theater like a desperate man The very next day, I’d knocked on the door of his studio He’d guided irl” Then he turned me so my back was to him and started to sketch my curvy little ass
But it wasn’t about sex, not even for a second Believe h Pietro undressed me like the most solicitous of lovers every ti more than friends Not even friends really He was randfather who gave me advice I loved Pietro with my whole heart, loved him like the father I’d never had, and Pietro was always kind to ether at work
He scratched at a line with his finger, adjusting the shading with a frown When I thought that my back would break frohed
“It is time for a break, I think”
“How did you know?”
“The little lines in your forehead, they draw together like this” He erated i on the robe he handed me
I looked at the canvas while we chatted and rested It was aluessed The last torks ofI could stand for an eternity nota muscle, piece of cake But this pose had s curled loosely at my side It was a lovely pose, I could see that on the canvas, but it hurt to hold it for such a long time
Luckily, Pietro was conscientious about giving me breaks He only refused to let me up when he was in the throes of “the uilty, because it always took tiet back into that same space he’d been It always took five s to that perfect angle he craved I would let him manipulate me into position, loose and compliant It was sort of like sex, only Pietro wasn’t my lover
No, my lover had left me last week Did I say he was my lover? He was my fiancé, actually
The operative word being was He was my fiancé, until he left me at the altar He was my fiancé until he realized he was in love with soh he’d said he did, and I hadn’t loved hi of all
But I preferred not to talk about Joe I’d finally reached a point where I could conjure his face without bursting into tears And around the time I reached that point, I decided not to conjure his face anymore at all I was a practical person in matters of the heart I had never been in love I realized that now, after the wretchedness of last week, that I had never been in love and probably never would be, because there was soht, or maybe I just didn’t want to
Not feeling things carappled and grasped pretty regularly You spend hours punishing your body at the barre, at rehearsals, at choreography, at nightly performances As an art model, you’re manipulated and posed When you make your life by your body, it’s actually better not to feel too much To feel only what matters Stretch Breathe Turn Soar I felt h
This would be the third work I’d done for Pietro The first two had sold as a set to an anonymous buyer for an obscene aiven h I tried to refuse it because he already paid e that was e his guilt
“What did you sell them for?” I had pressed
“A lot A bidding war Two buyers” Then he’d told me the amount and my mouth dropped open I pocketed his check without another word
But Pietro was deserving of every success He worked hard at his art and his vision was original and striking I wondered as orked what this one would sell for To me, it was even more beautiful and provocative than the others I wondered if he thought the sa me? How much money will I make? I wondered if he looked at me differently now When he looked atelse? A naked, co body to sell for money? Lots of money, it seemed But I was more than happy to be a vessel for his success
I left Pietro’s at four o’clock to go to the theater We had no rehearsals on Tuesday, just a nightly perforoire for dinner beforehand Grégoire, my dance partner, and my best friend
Grégoire was a couple years older than ht He had cried on my shoulder the day of his birthday “Thir
ty?” he’d mourned “It’s too awful to be true” And it ful, because ere dancers Our performance life spans weredance we did I already nursed aches and twinges that worsened by the week I hoped to make it to thirty five, but even that seemed an unlikely event
So I held Grégoire in total e along with hiht of, so I hadn’t planned for, at least not yet
“Lucy!” He waved to ainst the wall jabbering on the phone Talking to his boyfriend no doubt, who he claimed to love desperately, but as rarely around “He works,” he explained “He’s not in the arts” The sugar daddy, who had a real job Every dancer needed one, just as I’d had, only I hadn’t been able to hold onto mine
I waved back to hiround outside the theater was littered with cigarette butts and plastic water bottle caps Disgusting dancers, I thought to myself
I went inside to drop offto the darkness froht outside I was so sun-struck I almost collided with someone in the corridor He steadied rin
“Sorry, I’m blind”
He answered with a ser than seeht And I can’t explain it, but the way he held my arm feltwellalo I scurried down the hall, fighting the urge to look back