Ashley Lister - Turning Up the Heat

Her pulse quickened as she thought of handing Bill a wooden spoon and then bending over a counter. She would call him ‘Mr Hart’ and beg him to –

The photographer clapped his hands. His voice was not particularly strong or commanding and he had to shout to make himself heard above the babble of conversations. He asked everyone in the background to remember their roles and pretend that they were dining.

Trudy shook her head. The photographer’s interruption had not derailed her train of thought. Her smile broadened as the image of her planned evening settled more comfortably before her mind’s eye. If she concentrated she would be able to imagine the weight of Bill’s skilful hands caressing her bare buttocks to warm her, ready for an evening’s delightful discipline. Twin spots of colour rouged her cheeks as she glanced at her table companions and feared that Daryl, Charlotte or Harvey might guess the lurid path of her thoughts from the crooked tilt of her smile.

‘What’s this photo shoot for?’ asked Daryl.

‘Glossy lads’ mags,’ Harvey said. ‘The second series of Billy’s new TV show goes out in a couple of months. I want to get him maximum exposure ready for that. In two months he’ll be in more magazines than staples.’

‘Will Bill’s show be as big as Master Baker ?’

Harvey pulled a face. ‘ Master -bloody- Baker ,’ he grumbled. ‘Is that all anyone can talk about these days?’

Charlotte sat forward in her seat, clearly intrigued by the mention of Master Baker . She brushed long locks of dark hair from the side of her face and tucked them over her ear before slyly smiling at Harvey.

Master Baker was one of the main sources of conversation in the Sweet Temptation offices. Some days, when Trudy walked past Charlotte and Daryl, it was all she heard them discussing. Daryl was a huge fan of Kelly White. Charlotte favoured Tom Yates. The show aired on a Saturday night and the pair of them spent most of their Monday morning discussing what had been said, what decisions had been made and how they could have been played differently.

‘I love Master Baker ,’ Charlotte told Harvey. ‘Tom Yates is such a bitch to some of those contestants.’

‘Only when they deserve it,’ Daryl reminded her. ‘If you want to see really scathing comments you have to go to Kelly.’

Trudy didn’t bother following the conversation. She had heard Daryl and Charlotte have this argument before. Although Trudy liked the show she couldn’t claim to be as big a fan as either of them.

‘ Master Baker is a good show,’ Harvey conceded. ‘But it’s unlikely Billy’s show will get as many viewers. They’re in different time slots. They’re aimed at different audiences.’

Daryl nodded as though she’d been listening to what Harvey said. She pointed at one of the models and asked, ‘Have you got a phone number for that blonde?’

He frowned and glanced at the models. ‘Which blonde? There’s four of them.’

‘Any of them will do,’ Daryl admitted. ‘But I’d prefer it if you’ve got the number for the one with the pierced bellybutton.’

Like the rest of those at her table, Trudy found herself scanning the models to see which blonde had a pierced bellybutton. It was a glimpse of more female flesh than she needed. She turned away as soon as she’d worked out it was the blonde with the sculpted muscle tone and a thong so tight the crotch was moulding the shape of her labia. This was the blonde with the yin-yang tattoo on her shoulder. The one whose hand kept repeatedly touching Bill’s backside.

‘Beatrice?’ Harvey laughed. ‘Of course I’ve got her number.’

‘Could I have it?’ Daryl asked. She produced a business card, one that said she was Sweet Temptation’s head of administration. The card contained her mobile number and her email address. ‘Or could you get her to give me a call?’

‘Why don’t you go over and ask her yourself?’ Charlotte asked.

Daryl shook her head. ‘She’s busy working. Credit me with some professional integrity.’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘You have the professional integrity to perv off at a topless model and then try to get her mobile number from the model’s agent?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Table thirteen,’ the photographer exclaimed.

Trudy flinched, expecting that they were about to be reprimanded for talking too loudly, or discussing things that were inappropriate. Her cheeks reddened and she turned, ready to offer an apology.

‘There are four of you,’ the photographer told Trudy.

Charlotte and Daryl exchanged a glance.

‘Is that wrong?’ Trudy asked.

‘I need two people on each table,’ the photographer explained.

Trudy glanced around Boui-Boui’s front of house. The familiar chintzy country-house décor was the same as always. The waiters and waitresses were dressed in their uniform of black pants and black shirts. With the exception of a couple of empty booths in the rear corners of the restaurant, every table aside from the one she was sharing with Harvey, Charlotte and Daryl was occupied by only two diners.

‘A couple on each table balances my backgrounds,’ the photographer told her. ‘It conveys a subliminal suggestion of romantic dining.’ He glanced at Harvey and said, ‘Wasn’t that part of the brief for this photo shoot, Mr Walker?’

Harvey nodded. ‘That’s right. It was.’

Trudy came to a quick decision.

Glancing at Harvey and Daryl she said, ‘I could do with some alone time with Charlotte. I believe she’s got a new man in her life and I can use a one-to-one session to find out all about him.’

Charlotte’s cheeks darkened and she glanced downwards. She was shaking her head as though already refusing to discuss the matter. Her resolve only made Trudy feel more determined to find out who the man was and why he was such a mystery.

Harvey placed a hand on Trudy’s forearm.

His touch was warm but not unpleasant.

‘If it doesn’t interrupt your vitally important interrogation,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t mind staying on this table with you so that we can have a private word.’

Trudy glanced at Charlotte who shrugged and nodded.

Charlotte looked vaguely pleased as she stood up with Daryl and moved to an empty table. Her obvious relief made Trudy more determined to find out about the mystery man she was hiding. She turned doubtfully to Harvey, wondering why Bill’s agent might need to have a word with her.

Her mobile buzzed again, reminding her she had an unread text message.

At the photographer’s request, she’d muted the phone before the photo shoot began. Under other circumstances she might have glanced at the screen to see who was trying to get in touch. But Harvey’s solemnity suggested he needed to discuss something serious and Trudy figured the text message had already waited for five minutes, so another five wouldn’t hurt.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘No. Not wrong. But I want to ask you a favour.’

She remained silent, encouraging him to continue.

‘Billy’s my biggest client at the moment,’ Harvey explained. He gave a nod towards Bill and his smile briefly broadened.

Trudy made the mistake of following the direction of his gaze and glancing at Bill. The photographer now had the six women surrounding Bill as though he was posing for an old-fashioned James Bond promo. Two of the women knelt by his hips, their jaws tilted so they were facing up to him with adoring smiles. Their breasts were still embarrassingly visible. Their thongs were revealingly tight. Their heads were disconcertingly close to his groin.

Trudy quietly seethed.

She remembered the last time her own face had been so close to Bill’s groin. It had only been the previous evening, when Bill returned home from his three-day stint in the city. But it had been good. Under the new arrangement it seemed the sex between them was always good.