Life Model

Jasper watched the girl as she looked around his studio. He was furious that she was late but relieved that she had turned up. He stared at her, what the fuck was she wearing? The cheap and poorly fitting navy business suit seemed odd for her to wear. His life models came dressed in more bohemian and usually very sexy clothing, depending on their age. 

He stood quietly, waiting for her to notice him. She'd not heard him come through the door from the roof garden, probably due to Mick Jagger belting out 'Start Me Up' which must have covered the sound of his footsteps.

He studied her again she might look as if she had dressed in a skip, but she was beautiful, classically beautiful. Jasper was Grace Kelly but with rich conker coloured hair, which unfortunately was scraped back into a precise bun. He wanted her hair down the curls cascading over her shoulders. Jasper couldn't see much of her figure; it was lost in that awful suit. She was slim though, and of average height, he'd get an idea of how tall she was when he went to greet her. At six feet four most girls, were not as tall as he was, even with heels. She did have pretty ankles though, but he couldn't see much more of her legs. God, he had to get her out of that bloody awful suit. She stood in front of the mirror, checking her make-up, not that she needed much.

Ellie took a deep breath she was so nervous, and she had searched, what seemed to be an empty house. Still, she had followed the deafening music up the stairs, so there must be someone here, and if they objected to the fact that she had wandered around this beautiful house alone, then they shouldn't leave the front door wide open. That was complete stupidity; even she could see the paintings on the blue-green walls of the hall and stairway were original. My God, they could all have been stolen! Well, that was just sloppy; whoever was in charge should be severely reprimanded.

The house was fabulous; it would be wonderful to work here. She had admired the effect of the newly gilded frames on the paintings. It all looked so luxurious. It was a bit odd though, about the kitchen, she had never seen anything so modern, all done out in curves, in rich exotic wood. She couldn't see her gran or someone of her age having a kitchen quite like that. It seemed far too modern. Well, she didn't think so anyway, and it begged the question that there was someone else who lived with the older man who had employed her.

She took a deep calming breath; don't worry she told herself, her new boss was an older man, and he was ill, he certainly wasn't going to molest, harass or torment her. She was most definitely going to lay off men after Greg; her face screwed up in distaste when she even thought about him, and she stopped herself thinking of that horrific night. 

Still breathing deeply and calming herself, she turned to face the room as Mick was suddenly silent, and a very tall, incredibly handsome man came striding towards her.

He took her breath away as he walked down the length of the room. Tall, so tall, with dark, almost black hair, short, and thick; he filled her vision with broad shoulders under an olive T-shirt which seemed to have shrunk in the wash as it left a gap showing a tanned stomach and part of his happy trail. His jeans covered in paint were resting low on narrow hips at the top of his very long legs. His feet were bare and tanned. In fact, from what she could see, he had an excellent Caribbean tan in all the parts of him that she could clap her eyes on. The leather and steel bracelets on his right wrist glowed against his skin.

"You're late! Take your clothes off behind the screen; there's a robe hanging in there, and let your hair down please," he was impatient as he looked her up and down to check his last impression of her beauty.

Ellie gulped. She opened her mouth, but not a single sound emerged.

"Come on get a move on I haven't got all day." He was supposed to be interviewing a new PA before lunch, and he wanted to get at least the photographs taken for this painting if nothing else this morning." He closed his eyes when she didn't immediately begin to move, he didn't need this today, and it wasn't helping that his hangover felt like it was terminal. 

"Look if this is your first time it's quite painless, you just lay on the couch and do whatever I tell you to do." 

Ellie blushed scarlet, "I..I," feeling complete disbelief she turned and ran out of the room.

Jasper watched in amazement, "What the hell…" He chased down the stairs after her, "Wait!" he yelled as he jumped down the last five steps and heard the front door slam.

Ellie ran down the road, tears streaming down her face. She leaned against a wall at the end; out of breath and still sobbing. Wrapping her arms around herself holding the too-big jacket tight against her, trying to breathe normally her breath kept catching. Thankful that she hadn't bothered with mascara she wiped the tears from her face with her hands. Huh, it still didn't matter if she dressed down from how she usually looked; this horrible suit and no make-up didn't even stop that man from trying it on. Were men all the same?

She would be better off in a convent at this rate. Taking a few stuttering breaths, she calmed herself. She would go home and find something else to do: change career, anything but this. She felt in her pockets for a tissue. She had some in her bag, and she reached round to open it.

A hot rush of self embarrassment flooded over her, Ellie had left her bag on a chair in the kitchen, and now she would have to go back and face that horrible man again. Oh, God, She had no choice she had to go back. Setting her focus on retrieving her belongings. Ellie walked back to the house she had an advantage now. She knew what he was like. She could ask for her bags and go. She could carry on with her life, and she would never have to see him again.

Without thinking, she marched up the steps and banged the lion's head knocker hard. The first thing she saw when she opened the door was that he had put socks and shoes on and changed his jeans, which were now black and not covered in paint. His shirt was now a lavender dress shirt, and the sleeves rolled up. He was talking on the phone, berating someone. 

She swallowed hard and looked up at his face.

"I left my bag."

Jasper moved to the side of the door and waved his hand towards the hall, indicating that she should come in.

"For God's sake Monica, sort your bloody students out if they volunteer to be a model at least make sure they turn up. I wasted a whole morning waiting for her when I could have been doing other things."

Even though she was at the end of the hall, Ellie could still hear the person he was talking to, not entirely what she said, but she was just as angry as this man was. Jasper lowered his voice, but Ellie still heard him.

"She'd better not go to the police, I was the one being harassed, and in the end, I only fucked her to get her out of the house, she wouldn't leave me alone! You make it clear to her Monica I will not put up with it. Christ, it's me that's doing her a fucking favour, she's in one of my paintings for Christ's sake thousands of people will admire her tits, it should her paying me!" 

Ellie decided immediately that she was glad that she wasn't taking this job after all. She ran down the stairs to the kitchen for her bags, and God knows what she was to make of his end of the phone call.

He followed her slowly down to the kitchen, where she had left her bag.

"Miss Fox? I am truly sorry. I just assumed that you were my life model who had come to pose for me. I had completely forgotten that you were coming today." He gave a wry smile. "I suppose that means that I certainly do need you to organize me."

Ellie grabbed her bags and was starting for the stairs again. Jasper began to feel uneasy; he didn't want her to leave; he needed her to fill the job of a personal assistant.

"Please, please can we start again? You can see how disorganized I am, and ever since my father died, I honestly don't know which way to turn."

"Your father died? My job was to look after someone older than you and who was ill, your father?"

Jasper quickly slid his sad face on; he nodded, trying to look downcast and upset, trying to tug on her emotions.

"I'm sorry about your father." Ellie said, "however, I'm not sure if looking after you will be very beneficial for either of us."

He scowled. "Why?"

Ellie hesitated; there was no way she could tell him about Greg. "I'm just looking for a nice quiet job."

"Well this will be a nice quiet job," he lied, crossing his fingers behind his back and thanking God that he had kicked the girls out early that morning. "I spend most of my time upstairs in the studio; all you have to do is organize my diary for clients to come and see me, and that's it. You will have charge of the cleaning ladies, who have been here for so long they know exactly what to do, so you don't have to do much at all." He said, giving her his best puppy face.

Ellie was busy looking at the floor. Her heart was pounding. His voice was mesmerizing, and she didn't dare look at him. Jasper cocked his head to see her face.

"Please, can we start again?" he asked. Please?" he said, adding one of his pantie dropping smiles in the bargain.

Ellie knew she was going to regret this, but having thought about it, she had very little money left; and unless she wanted to spend the night in a doorway, she had nowhere to go as Marsha's sister was coming home that afternoon.

"Alright, we can start again, and give it one month's trial. I'm Eleanor Fox." She said, holding her hand out timidly.

"Jasper Neyve, eleventh Duke of Shettleham. I would very much prefer it if you called me Jasper. We can save the formalities for senior royals. Oh and foreigners – they seem to love it too, and the last person to call me sir was a schoolboy copper trying to book me for speeding." He shrugged, rolling his eyes at the thought that he would ever speed, or that they would catch him if he ever did.

Ellie nodded. "You can call me Ellie."

"I'm extremely pleased to meet you, Ellie," he said with a grin, thinking that he could do with a large scotch after all this performance; though he did doubt that Miss Fox would appreciate that gesture.

"Shall we have a cup of tea to celebrate your arrival?" He walked over to the sink picking the kettle up on his way and quickly removing a scarlet lace thong that was hanging over the gooseneck tap screwing it up in his fist before filling the kettle.