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Twenty Eight
EVELYN
Claude is the first person to meet me and Kendra when we arrive on set. I feel like I’ve neglected my best friend lately, and what better way to make up for it, than bringing her along to a photoshoot full of male, topless models.
She turns out to be the perfect assistant, making sure I have everything I need and coming up with some very creative poses for the models.
Claude is a natural in front of the camera, and although these aren't my favorite kind of pictures to take, I find myself having a great time.
“That’s a wrap.” Claude’s friend, Pava, scoops me under his arm and kisses my cheek. “We’re heading out for some drinks to celebrate, you in?” he asks, and Kendra looks at me like a begging dog. She’s been flirting with a guy who looks like Brad Pitt’s younger brother all day and she’s going to want to seal the deal.
“I can’t, I really need to get back to the studio and start editing these. You should go through,” I encourage her. I prefer to do edits while the photoshoots are still fresh in my head, and it’s been almost a week since I spent some time at the studio.
“All work and no play makes for a very dull girl,” Claude reminds me.
“You just keep my best friend out of trouble,” I warn, kissing Kendra on her cheek before I head back to the car where Niko is waiting for me.
I’ve been editing for a few hours, when I hear the intercom buzz. Expecting it to be Niko with instruction from Raoul, I quickly check out the window and I’m surprised to see Raoul’s father waiting on the sidewalk. There is no good reason why he could be here, and despite being nervous, I give in curiously and answer the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Miss Lane, Mr. Burlusconi would like a few moments of your time,” a gruff male voice booms through the speaker. Is the man not capable of announcing himself?
“Sure, send him up,” I respond, trying to sound welcoming.
“He requires you to come down, ma'am.”
I guess it is unfair to ask a man in his late sixties to climb three flights of stairs, so grabbing my phone, just in case, I make my way down to meet him.
He smiles at me when I open the door. “Take a ride with me, Miss Lane,” he requests like a perfect gentleman, and it reminds me of the day he told me my father had died. That day he showed me he was capable of kindness. He’d even hugged me after he broke the news, promised me he would take care of me and Mama. I got a different response the night I came back to the city and he sent me away from his door. But against my better judgment, I nod and get into his car.
“Do you know why I’m here, Evelyn?” he asks in a soft, even tone that has me on edge. I look out of the back window to where Niko is still waiting by Raoul’s car, and I wonder if he’s alerted him to what’s happening.
“No, sir,” I answer.
“I know what’s been happening between you and my son,” he sounds disappointed. “It’s in your best interest that it stops,” he adds after a few moments of silence. “I can see you're a passionate girl, and I admire that. But Burlusconi men aren’t bred to follow their hearts.”
I listen to what he says, trying my best to stay strong.
“I hear that Raoul dealt with a situation for you in New Mexico.” The old man clears his throat. “I hope you will accept that as compensation for enduring the loss of your father.”
“I never asked Raoul to do that,” I state clearly, my eyes blurring with tears,
“I’m sure you didn’t, Evelyn, but my son always did have a weakness for ruined things.” He chuckles spitefully. “Did he ever tell you about the stray dog he tried to rescue?” he asks.
“No, sir.”
“The thing had been run over, had an injured leg. Raoul carried it home and tried to hide it from me. He kept it in one of the outhouses and tried nursing it back to health.” I listen, remembering how Raoul used to be when we were younger, he was always thinking of other people. I can’t remember him ever mentioning a dog?
“It was a hopeless cause.” He slides closer to me in his seat and lowers his tone. “That poor little creature was infected, rotting from the inside out.” His cold eyes peer sharply into mine.
“What happened to the dog?” I ask, knowing I’ll regret it.
“I put a bullet right between his eyes.” His response sends a cold shiver down my spine.
“I think you understand the purpose of my visit, Miss Lane,” he says after his car has made a circle of the block and we’re back outside my studio. “It’s better for everyone that you stay away from my son.” He nods, before my door opens and his man glares at me as I get out.
***
