The Best Romance Ever by Ina Disguise - HTML preview

“Umm, not tonight I think.”  Tatania ran a hand down Sam’s inner thigh. “I have other plans.” She pressed a concealed button on the fence behind her to summon one of the maids, a broadminded dusky local girl who liked to indulge her mistress.

“Oh yes.” Sam was delighted at the new arrival.  “Yes I think we should head for the pool.”  They gave the voluptuous maid a meaningful hug and headed back towards the exquisitely lit pool.

Rivron sighed and looked around his smart, minimalist beige office.  Not about the money!  He hated dealing with artists.  They were all crazy. He played with his spectacles, dusted off his cashmere trousers and looked at a rather violent piece of sculpture he had lodged in his office. He didn’t think emailing David was a good idea until he could solve the problem.  Just what did this woman want? The emails between him and Aldous toed and froed a few more times before he decided what to do.  He emailed David.  A plan was formed. He outlined the plan to Aldous and awaited a reply.

“Yes, Aldous, that’s fine.” Kira did not look up from her typing.  She was working on the next book, a rather short thriller in which Sam’s character narrowly avoided being horribly mutilated on most of the pages by relying on a team of faceless bikini-clad women.

“Thank God.” Aldous sent the agreement email to Rivron and sighed. He pushed back his glasses. “How was the date?”

“Better, but no cigar, I’m afraid.”

“How so?” Aldous looked quizzical.

“Oh there’s nothing actually wrong with him Aldous. It just isn’t right. Devoid of meaning, so to speak.”

“You better hurry up and pick one, Kira.  You’re no spring chicken.” Aldous pursed his lips.

“Strangely enough, comments like that don’t help. I shall take my mother’s example and remain a spring chicken until I die, thank you.” Kira shook her head and kept sewing. “What sort of a saying is that anyway? Why are we supposed to conform to chronology? Fuck settling, fuck it. I’d rather be romantic and lonely.” She put her laptop down and arose from the chair, turning towards the wild ragdoll cat sitting at the window, who immediately bit her as hard as he could, with an accompanying angry burble. “Thanks Sam.” Kira addressed the cat very seriously. “I love you too.” The cat purred and proudly sat up straight, yawning.

Tatania dusted down the haute couture dress she had selected for tonight’s big bash, a ballroom affair with big league actors and producers mingling for the purpose of future deals.  She had elected to use this as a tester event for Sam.  She was less concerned about him misbehaving in front of the more important amongst her friends than about his motives for seeming quite so fond of her.  One thing Tatania loved was playing games, and games like this were her speciality.

She had told him to wear something suitable, and was astonished when he turned up in a velvet smoking jacket and no shoes.

“I don’t think that will quite work for you Sam.”

“No?”

“No, the dresser will take care of you.”  She called for her stylist, who led Sam to David’s very large wardrobe.  Thinner though Sam was, he still had trouble finding something to fit amongst the lightly built David’s clothing.

At length, and after much discussion, he emerged in an old purple waistcoat, collarless shirt and checked trousers which had clearly been very expensive thirty or so years before.

“Perhaps he will start a fashion.” Tatania laughed with the dresser. Sam suddenly felt very cold. The old cynicism kicked in, the cynicism that had protected him through years of learning to ignore the opinions of people who frequently came to hate him, for no real reason other  than they had grown out of him. He decided to add the smoking jacket to this outfit anyway, just to spite the pair of them.

“Don’t pout Sam, it doesn’t suit you at all.” Tatania suddenly sounded sharp, manipulative.  Sam’s blind faith eroded even more. The dress she was wearing incorporated exotic feathers, gemstones and silk, he noted.  When had she stopped trying to please him? He smiled and looked straight at her. “You look beautiful honey.” Sam beamed, with the shiny self-protective gushing that had protected him for years. “Just beautiful.”

Glad to have him back on board, Tatania smiled back, unaware that she had just brutally killed the beautiful seed of true love she had been unwittingly propagating in Sam. “Let’s go meet the stars, Sam.”

David was delighted with the deal that had finally been struck with Kira, especially as she did not know who was buying Raw Sex Object. Maximum publicity one month after taking ownership, on the date he planned to deliver it to Tatania, was exactly what he felt Tatania would appreciate, and it would crush any residual pet-owner like affection she would have for this Sam character. He congratulated himself on his wicked cleverness.  A bit like a movie, he thought cheerfully.  She would love the evil glamour of it.

Dandling his youngest child on his knee, he watched the swans in his pond outside drift by. It would be good to see her again after all this time, he thought, and she would have the hurt out of her system.

He rang for another cup of coffee, a habit he had distinctly failed to kick, and picked up another glossy magazine with yet more pictures of the happy couple.  Not for long, if he had anything to do with it. He smiled grimly and prepared for another game of tic tac toe with his child.

The glittering event was full of big name stars, people Sam could only have dreamt about before the entrance of Tatania to his life.  He mingled as hard as he could, greeting healthy and unhealthy alike with a reverence that even people who knew Sam well would have been astonished at. He worked the room so hard, in fact, that he entirely forgot about Tatania, who was wondering whether she should have brought him at all. He finally remembered a full two hours after their arrival at the event. Where was she?

He rushed around the room, but could not see her at all.  He looked out into the gardens surrounding the palatial whatever-it-was that they were in.  A house, a hotel, a club of some sort?  It seemed far too big for anyone to actually live in. Finally, he headed into the lobby, whereupon he spotted Tatania descending the stairs, laughing with a small crowd of people and obviously high as a kite on some substance Sam did not immediately recognise.

“Aww Sammmyyyyy,” she drawled. “Sammyyyy, I was so bored!  Have you met everyone yet? Absolutely everybody?” She raised a beautiful arm and stared down it, sulking for dramatic effect.  Her companions laughed.

Sam leant forward and kissed her hand, hoping that this would placate the off-centre Tatania.

“I’m so sorry, Tatania.  I just assumed you would be so in-demand that I would have to amuse myself.” Sam wheedled, twinkling up at her in a practised manner he knew from experience frequently worked with the more well-heeled clients. “Come and dance with me.”

“No Sam, I think I want you to myself for a while.” Tatania continued to sulk.  “Come out to the fountain and let us ruin my dress.”

Ah, frisky.  Sam understood frisky.  He would love to ruin that dress, but it had cost at least forty thousand, and looked it. “Wouldn’t you rather get naked? We could start a trend!” He started to remove his jacket.

“Nooooo Sam, you don’t understand.  David bought me this dress. Let us ruin it together.” Tatania’s eyes started to roll slightly as she struck another statuesque pose.

Oh right, thought Sam.  Now I understand. She doesn’t care about me at all. He felt a little hurt, but was not surprised. He could not, and did not really want to, compete with this lifestyle, and Tatania was very much about the lifestyle. He wondered how long he could possibly spin this one out.  He would try keeping quiet until she had at least taken him to a political event, he thought. “Come to the kitchen, Tatania, I think we need a little water.” He took her firmly by the wrist and gently pulled her out of the way of her giggling companions. He felt a little teary, but he wasn’t going to give the game away.  Poor Sam. He had been merely a pawn in a very long standing game of emotional chess between the super sophisticated Tatania and David.

“Doesn’t she look marvellous though? He’s worked wonders with her.” Kira was pleased.  She had received her cheque from Rivron that morning, for two hundred thousand dollars, and a written assurance of the A-list publicity the gift was going to attract from the buyer. She felt it entirely fitting that Raw Sex Object should be bought as a gift. She had put the money into the business account to enhance the publicity campaign and was quietly content about her unreasonable artwork profits for the year.

Uncharacteristically, she put her toe-boots on and headed for the door of the bedroom she and Aldous habitually worked in. “I’m going for a walk.”

Aldous was startled. ‘What?  How long is it since you last did that?” Kira noted his hyper raised eyebrows behind the glasses with amusement.

“Two years I think, give or take. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Aldous wondered if the staying in habit of Kira’s related to money, since she would not normally allow herself out even if she wanted to go, and she never stopped working on something, even when half asleep. It wasn’t really in Kira’s nature to think much about money. Security seemed more likely. Aldous decided to settle on the latter, but he was suitably alarmed by this new and unexpected development. How long would it be before she was brave enough to venture further without him?

Rivron banked his hundred thousand and thanked his lucky stars that Kira was an awkward bitch. The gallery was safe for at least another year.  He ordered his assistant to fetch some over-priced coffee from the nearby Starbucks and contemplated his next big deal, a large painting of Jesus and Lady Julep entwined in a strangely sexless pose. Once he pulled that one off, he thought, he could relax and be ‘exclusive’ for at least two or three years. He called the packers for Raw Sex Object, even though it wasn’t due to leave the gallery for a week or two, and contentedly surveyed the gallery. Bunch of no hopers, he thought, but thankfully there was no accounting for taste.

Sam ran his elbows down the backs of Tatania’s legs, an old Maori remedy for decalcification he loved to torture people with.  He smiled grimly at her discomfort.

“I think you can stop now, Sam.  I’m not sure I really like that one.” The chills running up and down Tatania’s spine were becoming more oppressive.

“No, no, I’m sure you can take a little more, sweetheart.” Sam was really enjoying himself for the first time in weeks. “It’s very good for ya.”

The Paris hotel room they were ensconced in was opulent, to say the least, and was costing a sweet twelve thousand bucks a night.  Sam looked around the room, unsure whether to be delighted or disgusted. How many fruit trees would that money plant? Still, he reasoned, she had invested in almost all of his most exclusive products now and since feeling the benefit, he imagined she would continue on her new regime.

“Moulin Rouge, darling? Shouldnt we get ready?” Tatania prayed that this would disrupt his concentration sufficiently to stop her current programme of expert care.

“But of course, my sweet.”  Sam went to shower whilst Tatania arose from the massage table with some relief, shaking her head.  Who on earth enjoyed that?  Her legs shaking from the unexpected stress, she made her way to her dressing room at the far end of the opulent suite.

Sams’s phone rang as he emerged from his shower.  Still naked he answered the call, from Don, for the first time in weeks.

“How are ya doing, Sam”

“Fine, fine.  Back to normal, you’ll be glad to hear.”  Sam’s voice sounded deeper than it had when he had been uncharacteristically besotted.  Don was relieved.

“Glad to hear it.  Where are you?”

“Paris.  Going to the Moulin Rouge tonight.  Maybe a private cruise or something.”

“Aren’t ya done with her yet? I need to discuss some Super Superfood Supermarket business with you.  When can I talk to you?” Don was irritated.  Still with her.  This had to be the longest relationship Sam had had for a long time.

“I’m pretty sure it won’t be long now, Don. I can talk to ya anytime.  Just not tonight OK?”

Don had been getting the same answer for weeks. “Fine, I’ll get a decision from Leo.”

“That’s fine.  Sorry.  Like I said it won’t be long. Bitch has played me like a violin. Seems to think I’m the pool boy or something.” Sam ended the call and used the rougher towel to stimulate his skin before dressing. Maybe Tatania would have one of her ‘treats’ in the way of staff for the evening.

Kira and Aldous were on holiday, at a beach somewhere in South Carolina. They had been quite sure they would be the ugliest people in town, judging by the tourist channel on TV. Hence it was their second last day, and their first trip to the beach.

“We’re the thinnest people here!” Kira exclaimed. “Let’s run down the beach for a laugh.” They duly ran down the beach in true ‘Baywatch’ style, just to show that they could, unlike the other people on the beach.

Lumpy though they both were, Kira and Aldous were comparatively neat. The TV channel had been entirely misleading. Pictures of impossibly slim, glamorous waitresses in restaurants serving improbably huge servings were on several local channels.  Like a metaphor for the rest of the world.  Fat people, like the disabled, were becoming invisible in terms of positive representation.

“How are you feeling, Kira.  Do you think you’re ready to let go of everything?”

“I think I’m ready to do our first festival, but I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Does the company have a spare ten million to burn Kira?”

“Oh it won’t be burnt.  We have thirteen million fans.  I’m sure attendance will be fine. And if it isn’t, that will be fine too.  We started with nothing remember?  I think it was a whole five thousand I invested initially if you remember. There’s a certain freedom in being cheap.”

At long last, Tatania had gotten around to taking Sam to a political event, a plush dinner.  She had her dresser take him shopping, this time, and so Sam was currently standing in a very expensive gentleman’s outfitters being plucked at by a slim and outrageously gay assistant, who was marking out the tailoring with chalk. Sam loved being admired by anyone, so he was quietly enjoying the attention.

As his fitting for the suit concluded, Tatania swanned in from her own shopping and kissed Sam lightly on the cheek. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Sam assumed his adoring look as he followed her to the limousine.

The event, which they were due to attend the following week, was a dinner for two hundred or so luminaries at a suitably intimidating location out of town in the Washington area. This was what Sam had been waiting for.  At last he would get to mingle with movers and shakers on a national level.  He felt this was what he had been working for all his life.

After the obligatory studio photographs they had to individually sit for on the way in, presumably for record keeping purposes, they were frisked and taken to seats at long heavily loaded tables.  Sam looked around.  There was nothing that he could eat, but he was used to that.  He tried to engage the elderly politician next to him in conversation.  He appeared to view Sam as a peculiar species of alien, and so he failed.  The rest of the evening was taken up watching the rest of the room become merry on vintage wines and brandy.  The entertainment appeared to consist of a lot of back patting and wheezy guffaws.  Tatania dragged him from one VIP to another, introducing him before dominating the conversation with amusing epithets about speculative inappropriate behaviour from Sam.  “Left to himself, he probably would have come barefoot, and insisted you do the same.”  Very funny.  Sam realised he was out of his depth, even if she had given him the chance, which Tatania apparently had no intention of doing. The suit, tailored for him, now felt like a cage. The sooner he was back in his own small pond the better, he thought.  He was somewhat less than a guppy here.  More like plankton.

After another two or three hours of ritual humiliation at Tatania’s side, Sam was relieved to get back into the limousine. “Can you drop me off at a hotel please?  Any one will do.”

“Certainly not, Sam.  We haven’t even begun our evening yet.”  Tatania was irritated. “You will be coming back to the house with me. Don’t you want to slip into something more comfortable?”

“Not really, Tatania.  I think I just want to be on my own.”  Sam felt deeply tired.

“Nonsense.  You will come back to the house, and that is that.   Enrique will make you something marvellous.”

“Fine.” Sam sighed.  At least he had gotten what he had come for, even if it had fallen rather flat.

Aldous loaded the bags into the taxi and waited for Kira to run up the driveway behind him.  They were flying to NYC for the media event that was to accompany Raw Sex Object’s leaving the gallery for its new home.

“I wonder where it’s going? Who could it be?”  Kira murmured as they drove to the airport.

“Who cares, the price was right.” Aldous still marvelled at the price Kira had got for artwork he and his brother had dismissed as nonsense for years.  It came more from their depression than reality, but it had hurt Kira a great deal. She had at least, given up the corset wearing this time, and was back in the usual scruffy outfits he was more familiar with. The first day he had ever met Kira, she had been wearing a pair of large clown trousers and a combat jacket, hair having been cropped off with scissors in a fit of self-protective misery after being the victim of yet another sexual assault.

Several hours later, they touched down at JFK and were guided into a rickety yellow cab.  They would be staying overnight at a hotel Kira had last been in in 1998.  No air conditioning, but appropriately moody, and it was February in any case. They made the journey in silence, looking at the oft-recorded views they recognised from years of TV shows.  The route from JFK to Manhattan appeared to have been particularly well covered by exported American media.

Aldous checked them in, and they went to the small twin room they were to share.  Aldous thanked God that she no longer smoked.  Once they had shared a room and he had spent the entire night awake thinking Kira would not live until the morning, such was her history of self-destructive smoking. Now Aldous was the only smoker, and he would have to hang out of a window, or go down to the street, where tanned people would stare at his blue tinted Northern skin and perfectly normal Scottish lumpiness. He had been impressed by her fame, however, on that trip.  Kira was well known in many places outside the city she actually lived in.  He frequently marvelled at this.  How come all these people liked Kira so much?  She was just….well….Kira?

They settled down for the evening, preferring to avoid the gathering Valentine’s day crowds.  Men were taking their mistresses and bits on the side out this evening, leaving the big day free for their wives and girlfriends.  Both Aldous and Kira found this extremely depressing, and so they stayed in.

Sam had just finished his