Chapter Fifteen

Ornette was surprised that she was not the only model in the cafeteria during lunch on her first day off since she had begun Goldilocks Zone. Who was in the cafeteria surprised her most. Claudia and Silvania were there. They were contestants one and two.

Claudia was the most expensive model in the show. She was a leggy blonde. When she came in, she was sweaty from a workout and was more interested in the enormous salad waiting for her than she was in talking to Ornette.

That was fine by Ornette. She was taking lessons just looking at Claudia with her back turned. What blonde beauty from the past was she trying to emulate?

Ornette had gone through a phase where she tried to look like Marilyn Monroe, but that hadn’t really worked out for her. She didn’t have the hips and Marilyn wasn’t just about how she looked. She came off as an innocent sex magnet—a woman who knows nothing about anything but sex. She’s so innocent that she doesn’t even know that sex with the wrong person is bad or that what she’s doing is driving a man crazy.

That wasn’t a good way to live. Ornette knew. She had given up trying to be a woman altogether, Marilyn or otherwise. It was better to match the man she had to please without confining herself to a particular style of behavior. It also didn’t do her a lick of good to leave her owners hot and bothered all the time. She tried not to let it happen, but their minds were already alive with the mischief of buying a woman, and it was hard to let them cool.

Claudia wasn’t trying to be Marilyn. Her look was less glamorous but more statuesque. Maybe she was simply trying to look like a model who walked the catwalk.

Finally, Ornette couldn’t take it anymore and she asked Claudia, “Who are you trying to be?”

Claudia looked away and answered in a firm voice, “Myself.”

Ornette barked a disbelieving playful laugh. “Okay.” She went back to her food.

Claudia got her food and kicked a chair at Ornette’s table so she could sit on it. She sat down without an invitation. “Are you trying to be someone you’re not?” she asked accusingly.

Ornette was unphased and answered plainly. “When I was young, I tried to look like Marilyn Monroe so that I could offer my clients something they were familiar with. Doing my hair like that with the rollers and pin curlers every day was such a hassle. It was a waste of time. I’m not curvy and I’m not friendly. I want to design clothes. I don’t make a very good model. I'm the wrong size and shape. But if you’re so secure in who you are that you never try to emulate someone else, that’s good for you.”

Claudia blinked at her. “Are you really the least expensive?”

“I am,” Ornette admitted without hesitation.

“And who are you trying to be now?” Claudia asked. She was pumping Ornette for information.

Ornette was very lucky that that was the moment when Silvania joined them. She was very quiet and well-mannered, but Ornette gave Claudia a ‘later’ look that she never planned on following up and they chatted together at the table.

“Who do you want to buy you?” Silvania asked Claudia in her slight accent.

“Varner,” Claudia answered simply.

“Why?” Ornette asked, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible like she was curious about the reason instead of why anyone would want to be purchased by a man whose forearms rippled when he moved his fingers.

“He already owns five models. It’s better to be part of a team taking care of a man like that,” she said.

Ornette nodded. When she had been owned by Crois, he had owned lots of other models to work for him in his factory on the design floor, but they didn’t need to take turns pleasing him. They just did their work. He wanted designs where he could own the copyrights. He did not ask the models he hired to go to bed with him. He liked getting stuff like that through his own charms. Ornette would have liked him wholeheartedly if he hadn’t occasionally slapped whoever gave him bad news.

Claudia returned the question to Silvania. “Who do you want to buy you?”

“I want to get bought by Shin Raleigh,” she admitted.

Shin was a businessman who was the newest money on the businessmen's side. He owned a business that turned old plastic into the kind of fuel that was required for rocket launchers. Harrison Fox still hadn’t managed to make a rupter that could power a rocket launcher, so Shin was rolling in coins. Of course, he wasn’t the only man who made a lot of money and had agreed to do the show.

“Why?”

“He’s my richest relative,” Silvania admitted. “We are third cousins. I met him at family functions sometimes when I was growing up.”

Ornette looked at Silvania and thought a wild collection of things all at once. First, she had never met anyone who had been purchased by a relative. Two, she thought that Silvania would be horribly disappointed if he did not bid on her. Three, she wasn’t sure it would be a good situation for either Silvania or Shin if he won the bid if the organizers of the show made the fact that they were related public.

“What about you?” Silvania asked, turning the question to Ornette after the important people had spoken.

“Oh, I haven’t got anyone picked out,” Ornette admitted honestly.

“You didn’t set your heart on Fenrir after he fell madly in love with you?” Claudia asked suspiciously.

Ornette held her head high. “Getting purchased by Fen would be lovely, but there are a lot of things that are going to happen all at once in this thing. How do I know I won’t do something with another man that will rub him wrong? I may have already ticked him off bad enough that he might not want to buy me. I feel like I can’t get stuck on one particular bidder. I have to stay fluid.”

“Or maybe you want to get purchased by the man with the white hair?” Silvania offered.

Ornette didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if everyone knew Desmond or if only she did. In her heart, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to bid on her or not.

“A better question is why you two are not off with your current designers?” Ornette said instead.

“Mine is sick today,” Silvania replied.

“Mine threw his back out yesterday,” Claudia explained with a slight nod. She wasn’t the least bit bothered about her back.

Ornette gave up and told them that her owner simply didn’t need her that day.

Claudia and Silvania exchanged looks. That didn’t look like a good sign to them.

***

That night, Ornette was in her room. She was pretending to smoke a cigarette. Ornette didn’t smoke, but she found that breathing like she did calmed her. She lay flat on her bed without a pillow under her head, stared at the ceiling, and pretended to smoke.

In her head, she blew out smoke of all different colors and all different shapes. Sometimes, she filled the whole ceiling over her head with light puffy clouds and let hot air balloons rise up in them. She imagined the stars coming out one by one and she’d make little wishes on them like a little girl who believed that wishes could still come true.

“I wish,” she said quietly, “that I could be kissed by a man who loves me instead of himself. And I wish that… I was as pretty as Claudia. That my hand wasn’t black. Or,” she said, gaining enthusiasm, “that both my hands were black.”

There was a weird sound she kept hearing, like knocking, like thudding, like something crawling in the walls. Ornette put those thoughts out of mind. If the studio and the dorms fell through the base level of the cloud city and the whole thing came crashing down on the surface of Venus, that was fine with her. If there were rats crawling through the walls, that was not her problem. If the Yilin was having an unscheduled visitor, there was nothing Ornette could do about it. And if none of her wishes came true… Sleep was still waiting for her and that in itself was a wish come true.

“Wake up,” a low voice whispered in Ornette’s ear.

Ornette stuck her tongue out and bit it softly. Yilin wasn’t the one getting the unscheduled visitor. It was her.

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She opened her eyes.

Desmond was sitting in a chair next to her bed. “You know, you really have amazing access to be everywhere you need to be. What do you want?”

The man looked grim. “There’s going to be a little shakeup during the taping of the next episode. We’re getting a replacement for Albert. It’s Rowan Hamelton. Have you heard of him? He’s a politician running to be the next mayor of our cloud city, Nepra.”

“And you want me to slip something into his drink?” Ornette supplied.

“Nothing so taxing. I need a DNA sample. I have people who want to run a paternity test on him, but he’s been a slippery customer. I think you can get close to him. It might surprise you to know it, but our men have been a lot more into you than the other contestants. Is there a man you can’t charm?”

Ornette rolled her eyes. “It’s not that I’m more charming than the others. It’s that I come off as more saddle-worn. They’re less worried about crashing a used helocarrier than a brand new one. But let me get this straight, you want me to steal a hair or you want me to kiss him and let someone swab my mouth?”

“Exactly. Well, spit into a tube, but six of one, half a dozen of the other.”

“I don’t see why I should do anything for you. If I kiss some stranger at the after-party, I’m going to piss off Fen, Joel, Hans, and probably a host of other dudes who haven’t worked with me. Is he even cute? Is there any advantage for me doing exactly what you say?” she asked in exasperation.

“If you get the sample, I’ll give you something you want.”

“What?”

“Name it.”

“You could let me own you for a while after my contract is over,” she suggested, stifling a giggle. She could have asked for money. She should have asked for money. Except, Desmond was something she couldn't get with money, even if she had all the money in the galaxy. She could never hope to keep a man like that, but if she could have him for a bit… that would be like making all the poofy clouds in her room real, if only for a little while.

“How long?” he asked, not at all put off by the idea, as he pulled at a stray thread in the hem of his pants.

“A day?” she wondered aloud. “Yeah, a day is the right amount if I can snag a hair. What does Rowan look like? If he’s a beast and I have to stick my tongue in his mouth, I’m gonna need a solid week. Seriously, is he cute?”

Desmond regarded her stiffly. “No, but I dislike his politics so much, I think I should have to give you a month if you have to put your tongue in his mouth.”

“Gross,” she said distastefully. “Is any man going to want to kiss me again if I do that with a camera on me? Maybe a month isn’t enough. If it damages my worth when I go for resale, I may need more compensation.”

“I’ll pray you get the hair,” Desmond said with a pensive expression. “I wouldn’t mind being owned by you for a month, but I think you’re right, the idea of you kissing him would certainly ruin how I feel about your lips.”

“You’re making this arrangement sound less desirable by the second,” she complained. “Will I have more than one chance to get the hair, or if I don’t get it on the first go, you’re in trouble?”

“The first go is ideal,” he confirmed.

“Will you give me something to collect it in?”

“Yeah.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew two vials. “This one is empty. If you kiss him, spit into it afterward. As soon afterward as possible. The second one has some tacky guck in it. The guck is nothing special, but if you put it on your hands, you’ll do better at catching hair. You have to be sure it came from him. If you come back with a cat hair or a dog hair or someone else’s hair, that isn’t going to help.”

“I need some gloves to help me,” she replied. “Evening gloves. You know the kind? Black satin. Tight. Can you bring me some before the show?”

He pulled a face. “I’ll send you some. I can’t come back here before I get the samples from you after the show.”

“You won’t come back tomorrow night to drop off the gloves?” she asked cautiously.

“I’ll send them. I need to keep my visits rare. Hey, Ornette…”

“What?” she asked his shape through the darkness.

“Why are you willing to do this with so little persuasion?” he wanted to know.

“Did you try the other contestants first and landed on me after being refused by eleven other women?”

“No. I've only worked with you.”

“Why?”

“There are a lot of reasons. I guess if I have to say a few, I'd say it's because you have more power over the men you work with than they do, and you seem like the only one who doesn’t secretly love the super wealthy.”

The last thing he said was true. She did not love the super-wealthy. She also did not love muscles, power, or heavy breathing. She just couldn’t go to poor people to help her pay her debt. Only rich people had money.

“Have you seen the footage of the other contestants when they’re with their designers or businessmen?” she asked suddenly.

He nodded.

“Then you’ve seen mine too. You must know what I do differently than them. It must be obvious,” she said simply, hoping the simple nature of her words would make him drop a few hints about how the other models were handling their partners.

“It was obvious what Fen liked about you. What you said about his shirt would have charmed the pants off him if the situation had been a little different. It was less obvious what you did to Joel to make him like you. You do not seem like his type at all. He was also unlikely to be seduced by your felicitations over the dress with the bra in it. There was something else going on that the camera didn’t pick up. Want to tell me about it?”

“Was the footage edited so much when you saw it that you couldn’t figure it out?”

Desmond made a face.

“I’m sure it would have made sense if you saw everything that happened instead of a highlight reel,” she continued.

“Can’t you just tell me?”

She flicked her hair away from her face. She didn't want to tell him that Joel wanted something safe and he viewed her as safe. She brushed it off. “I suppose what is happening with Hans is even more confusing for you.”

The look on his face said it even if he didn’t say a word. What he did say was, “Why are you so charming?”

She rolled onto her side and let a misbehaving hair tendril fall between her eyes. “Am I charming you?”

He leaned in and nodded.

“You’re confused why all your insides are a knot when I’ve completely undone you?”

He chuckled. “Not that far, but yes, something like that.”

She fell back onto her back. “I’m not telling. Besides, if you read my file, you probably know all about me.”

“Have you read your own file?” he asked curiously.

“Why?”

“There’s nothing in it. There’s your height, weight, measurements, age, talents, and a bunch of other meaningless facts. They don’t even point out that your hand is black. The discoloration was something I noticed when you were in cryostasis. Your hand was on your chest and it was obvious because it was on top of your other hand. I decided I needed to wake you up to fix it and while I was working out the details, I decided to redo your makeup. I didn’t wake any of the other models. Having read your file means nothing,” he finished. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“You want to hear about me?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes. Among other things,” he answered, inadvertently wetting his bottom lip.

“What other things?” she exclaimed in mock surprise. “Are you here to break all the rules and find out how hot a model from Sleeping Beauty Inc. really is?”

He put a hand to her mouth to stop her from talking, but he did not touch her. His finger hovered away from her lips like her imaginary cigarette. “No. That would land me in big trouble and if you didn’t already know, I’m already in big trouble. This whole thing is big trouble. No. Not that.”

She smiled at him. “If you can’t do that, can you get under the blankets with me and let me sleep on your arm?”

He huffed a laugh. “Is that something you want?”

“Desperately,” she answered in a voice that was all breath and no voice. “Listen, if you can’t fool around with me then you can give me something I want.” She sat up and rearranged the bedding to make room for him in the double bed. When he didn’t move, she pouted and said, “I don’t want to tell you about myself. I try not to think about myself. I’m boring. I eat. It’s boring. I breathe. It’s boring. I have to spend a shocking amount of time blow-drying my hair and setting it in curls. I don’t want to talk. I’ll do what you want by gathering the stray body parts of suspicious politicians if that eases your mind.”

He didn’t move.

Ornette couldn't stand it. “Get in bed with me or get out. I can’t sleep with you staring at me like that.”

Desmond hesitated and then swallowed. He pressed a few buttons on his bracelet. Ornette knew what he was doing. He was setting a timer. He didn’t want to fall asleep and then be caught in her room when he was supposed to be elsewhere. He was going to make his bracelet vibrate and shock him rather than make a sound. Interesting.

He finished, pulled off his shoes, and got into bed next to her. He put his arm out and Ornette cuddled up to him like she had been his little wife for the last three years.

At least, that was the feeling Ornette hoped she gave him. She was not trying to turn him on and Ornette had been used too many times to get turned on by most things. She just wanted body heat, companionship, and a moment of togetherness with a safe person.

That’s all it should have been, but her head didn’t stay on his arm. She migrated, bringing herself close until her ear was cupped on his chest and she could hear his heartbeat. She slipped a leg up to fall between his. He was so warm, and the scent of his body was like something delicious and expensive that she’d smelled before. To get more of that flavor, she mushed her face into his chest. It was an action like a kiss.

“Don’t you want to know who I am? What I’m doing? How all the little pieces fit together?” he whispered in the darkness.

“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered back. “You could be Batman or Beckett Beltrose for all I care. Not only that, but I already asked you on day one and you blew me off. Like I care now. You’re in charge of my bracelet, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re my owner. It’s all good in my mind. Besides, if you really want to understand me, the first thing to understand is that there is no yesterday. Yesterday never happened. There is only today. Anyone who loved me yesterday is gone. Anyone who hated me yesterday has changed their mind. Anything that hurt me was an accident. And most importantly, anything I ate isn’t filling me anymore.”

“So, you always have to start over?”

“I always have to start over.” She cuddled closer to him. “In my life, I’m never held. I’m pretty excited about your body temperature in the bed. It’s always too cold sleeping alone. Your body temperature is just right.”

“Right. The Goldilocks Zone. When is it too hot?”

“Some men run hotter than you. Their feet stink and they sweat. You’re not doing either. Actually, there’s a long list of terrible things they do that you’re not doing. You shouldn’t be here. Putting Goldilocks to bed. You’re such a naughty Cheshire Cat, but then I guess you don’t really care if I get caught by the bears. You’re like every other man here. You'll keep yourself safe, disappearing and reappearing as it suits you while I’m in danger of being torn to shreds.”

He didn't deny it.

That would be more alarming if her life wasn't like that all the time. At least this way she had a man to snuggle. She trailed off and fell asleep. He really was the perfect temperature.

He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

Seemingly, for no reason at all, Ornette was in the place she found most comfortable. She slept.