A little present while I’m on holiday. This is a quick two-parter based on ww’s fic challenge:

• Ashley and Spencer went out in high school, had a bad breakup and have not talked to each other since.
• Ashley became a music star and Spencer became a photographer.
• Spencer fills in for a bud for a last-minute shoot, unaware that it’s for you-know-who.
• There’s awkwardness, tension, surprise, maybe some anger, and of course, major sparkage which leads to you-know-what.

Part one is rated A.

This is set in Las Vegas because that’s my favourite place in the world outside of Scotland. I should like to point out that the Red Rock Hotel and Casino is a real establishment and I have no desire to defame or embarass them. In fact, if you’re in Vegas, rent a car and head out there. It’s sumptuous and gorgeous. Its cafe has the best cakes known to man and the pool and spa are utterly outstanding. The buffet lines are only long because the food there is of extremely high quality at very low rates, especially compared to Strip casinos of a similar standard. I strongly urge you to stay and play there.

Oh, and Ev’ry Rose Has Its Thorn is a genius song. I don’t care what anyone says.

* * *

Part 1: Viva Las Vegas

Someone had once commented that Reno was the biggest little city in the world and the epithet had stuck so much that the city fathers had built an arch with that legend emblazoned across it. Although Las Vegas was internationally known as Sin City, there was no grand arch proclaiming this anywhere. There was, however, a famous diamond-shaped sign proclaiming ‘Welcome to fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’. Strangely, the sign was so far down Las Vegas Boulevard South – better known as The Strip – that most visitors never saw it. As Spencer Carlin drove past it, she realised that it was the first time she had ever seen the sign in person, despite this being at least her fifteenth trip to Vegas. Usually, she stayed on the interstate until she was in the city itself, but the traffic report had warned that it was bumper-to-bumper for at least eight miles. Why she had decided to drive in on a Friday afternoon was beyond her.

As she eased towards Mandalay Bay, she debated whether she should drive up The Strip or cut across to Frank Sinatra Drive. Looking at the heavy traffic ahead, she took a last minute decision to head onto Harmon and just keep going. She zigzagged through residential neighbourhoods, amazed at the mix of ethnic strip malls nestled alongside adult superstores offering all manner of exotic delights, until she almost ran out of city altogether. Out in Summerlin, she finally turned onto Red Rock Boulevard.

Pulling past the main casino entrance, she turned into valet parking. In the 115 degree heat of the desert, it was definitely worth slipping the valet a few bucks for her car to be kept in a cool garage, rather than baking outside in the sun. Grabbing her gear and overnight bag, she headed into the crowded casino and picked her way through the banks of slots towards the VIP check-in. Noting the long line snaking out of the buffet, she was glad that she was being put up for free and would be able to charge room service to her employers, an events management company who had arranged this job.

She was checked in smoothly and quickly and headed up to her room. It was pretty big by any standard, probably around 600 square feet, and tastefully decorated in muted natural browns and creams. A huge plasma TV dominated the wall facing the king-sized bed and the huge windows gave her astonishing views of the deep russet mountains which gave the casino its name. Throwing her bags onto the couch, she headed into the bathroom and started drawing a bath.

By rights, she should have been at her parents’ house, enduring an awkward meal during which her mother would pry into why she hadn’t settled down with a nice girl like her brother, Glen. The Vegas gig was a regular job for her studio, but it was actually her business partner Jimmy’s account and Spencer hadn’t been involved before. Jimmy’s girlfriend had gone into labour three weeks early in the wee small hours of that morning, so Spencer had agreed to be a last-minute stand-in. All she knew of the account was that the events management company usually arranged free open-air fan appreciation concerts out at Red Rock and that, more often than not, the subjects of the photoshoots were 1980s rock bands on the nostalgia circuit. Jimmy had assured her that Mindy, the rep from the client, would come for her bright and early on Saturday morning and fill her in on the rest of the details.

* * *

As Spencer ate her room service breakfast of fruit, coffee and juice, she found herself humming through a selection of hair band ballads in anticipation of her day. Her father, she mused, would be very jealous. His secret desire as a young man had been to be the next Gene Simmonds or David Coverdale, as if the world needed more than one of either of those two gentlemen. She found that she was quite looking forward to the day ahead. Within their business, Spencer tended towards actors, actresses and movie people, while Jimmy was the one who specialised in the music business. It might be a nice change of pace to hang out with some wild men of rock. Jimmy’s shoots were usually more adventurous than hers, which were more often confined to a studio.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. As soon as she opened it, a woman in her thirties dressed in an elegant cream linen pant suit and impossibly high heels barged in, talking about ten miles a minute.

“Hey, you must be Spencer Varlin. Jimmy’s told me so much about you. I’m Mindy Stanczyk, Veep of Talent, Premiere Entertainment LLC, and I’m going to be your liaison today. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? I just love the view here. I was out hiking the canyon with my husband this morning before coming over here. It’s just so super incredible to see the sunrise and have the whole place glow around you. It completely takes your breath away. Anyway, I see you’ve decided to dress practically.” Mindy’s gaze took in Spencer’s casual cargo shorts, tank top and sneakers. “I wish I could dress like that but I don’t have the legs for it any more. I mean, not at my age.” She gave a shrill, high laugh that reminded Spencer vaguely of a distressed manatee. “Anyway, we’re all set up down by the pool. We’ve got a cabana ready and a masseur on hand. It’s always the same set-up: lots of shots of the talent making use of the casino’s fine facilities and some live shots during the show tonight. A bit of a quid-pro-quo with them in doing some flattering publicity shots that keep their faces in the press. The usual drill. But I’m sure Jimmy’s filled you in on all of this. So, are we ready, hon?”

Spencer stared in bemusement at the woman in front of her who was helping herself to some melon from Spencer’s breakfast tray. The only thing she could think of to say was, “Carlin.”

“Sorry, hon, what’s that?” asked Mindy, who was furiously tapping away at her BlackBerry despite the obvious impediment of the longest, most impossibly glamourous nails Spencer had ever seen.

“My name,” she explained. “It’s Carlin, not Varlin.”

“Mmm-hmm,” the other woman replied absently. “So, do you need anything other than that?” Mindy pointed to Spencer’s bulky case which held her favourite Nikons.

Jimmy had assured that the client would provide all the lighting and other equipment, as well as a couple of photographers’ assistants, and all Spencer needed to bring was her cameras and laptop. “Um, no, I guess I’m ready,” she allowed.

“Excellent. Let’s get to it, then. The masseur’s booked for eight.”

Spencer shook her head in wonderment and picked up her gear, trailing after Mindy through the hotel and into the casino towards the Red Rock’s impressive pool area. As they approached an area right at the back with a huge tent-like structure that was bigger than any cabana that Spencer had ever seen, it finally occured to her to ask, “So, who’s the band?”

“Band?” Mindy echoed. “Did I not tell you that already? Oh, it’s Purple Venom.”

Spencer felt a shiver of recognition and foreboding pass through her. Purple Venom had been Danger Davies’ band before his untimely death. She’d been at his funeral and had met all of the band members. Back then, Ashley Davies, Danger’s eldest daughter, had been her girlfriend. Back then, all Ashley Davies had been was a daughter and a girlfriend. Now, she was one of the biggest female solo stars on the planet and Spencer was taunted by her image everywhere. She wasn’t exactly filled with the same anticipation that she had been over breakfast. The last thing she needed was yet another reminder of her ex-girlfriend.

Mindy interrupted her musings with yet another of her frighteningly high-pitched laughs. “But there’s no way those boys would be up at this hour of the morning. No, we’re here for their special guest vocallist.”

Given the information that Jimmy had passed on about previous shoots for the company, Spencer was prepared to hear the name of some distantly-remembered one-hit wonder from another decade. Even with the obvious link, she was still not expecting to have the door – curtain? – of the tent pulled back to reveal…

“Ashley?!” she exclaimed in horror as she felt the bottom fall right out of her world. Dressed in a silk kimono, having her hair and make-up done by a couple of attractive young women, was Spencer’s ex-girlfriend, the very current and very still famous Ashley Davies.

The brunette whipped her head around in wide-eyed surprise, but she immediately covered it with a veneer of arrogance and indifference, two things that Spencer recalled her excelling at. “Spencer Carlin. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

That voice still managed to be both incredibly smooth and seductively husky at the same time. Despite herself, Spencer felt a reaction to hearing it again after all this time. But she could hide her emotions as well as Ashley.

“Clearly, I must be slumming it if you’re here,” she replied with a sarcastic smirk. Maddeningly, Ashley just chuckled to herself and turned back to allow the hair and make-up girls to continue their work.

Oblivious to any undercurrents of tension in the room or the fact that Spencer’s face had drained of all colour, Mindy clapped her hands with glee. “So you two know each other? Well, that’s super good luck for me! I have a great feeling about this.”

Spencer looked from the excitable woman next to her to the arrogant and obviously amused face of her ex. She genuinely didn’t know which one of them to punch first.

Her first thought was to turn around and leave immediately, but Premiere Entertainment was one of the few regular clients they had and, although they were doing well, their business could ill-afford to turn away steady money, especially not when Jimmy was about to have a baby to provide for. It would be incredibly selfish of her to jeopardise their income by flouncing out. Gritting her teeth, she started unpacking her cameras and laptop, setting them up on a small table provided for her.

“So, I take it we’re promoting the hotel with this?” Spencer asked Mindy.

“Pretty much,” the other woman agreed. “Anyway, this is Phil. He’ll be your assistant today,” Mindy introduced a pleasant young man in his early thirties who had been hovering at the back of the cabana.

“Pleased to meet you,” Spencer nodded in his direction.

She rocked on her heels while she waited on the hair and make-up girls to finish their work. She could tell that Ashley was doing her best not to look in her direction, but Spencer didn’t feel the need to be so coy. Ashley had taken her robe off and was wearing the tiniest bikini that Spencer’s imagination could cope with. She could not deny that her ex was still the most beautiful woman she had ever known. Her body was toned, tan and taut, and Spencer’s memories of exactly how flexible it could be came flooding back.

The sex with Ashley had been intense. The brunette had been Spencer’s first female lover and she had pretty much spoiled her for all other women. Although Ashley as a girlfriend had been infuriating, selfish and needy, as a lover she had been inventive, giving and utterly single-minded. There was nothing that she wouldn’t have done to give Spencer pleasure. No-one since had been able to make Spencer feel even a fraction of what Ashley could.

Of course, the downside had been that Spencer wasn’t the only person that Ashley had pleasured. During their time together, Ashley had cheated with at least a half-dozen people that Spencer knew of. Looking back, she could see that they were both too young to cope with Ashley’s insane levels of almost overnight fame. She’d only been eighteen, after all; Ashley, just nineteen. She knew that she had pushed Ashley too hard to be there for her while refusing to bend her own life to accommodate her girlfriend. She knew that, instead of being supportive, she had bitterly resented the brunette’s success because it had robbed her of her girlfriend. She was stuck finishing her highschool education while Ashley was off appearing on the cover of Rolling Stone and touring the country. The fame and the adulation, so soon after her father’s death, set Ashley off on a downward spiral. Her drinking, which she had reined in after meeting Spencer, got worse and Spencer suspected that Ash might even have dabbled in drugs again, although she couldn’t be sure.

The worst thing was that Spencer had known that Ashley was utterly in love with her and that the affairs really had meant nothing. That didn’t make Ashley’s serial cheating with groupies any less hurtful, however; in fact, it made things worse. When she’d caught Ashley backstage one night with two groupies in a drunken moment of passion, she had walked out for good and never looked back. She had ignored all of Ashley’s attempts to get her back, refused to take her calls and basically cut her out of her life altogether. Eventually, the brunette had given up, although she had been significantly more persistant than Spencer had expected.

That had been nine years ago. Nine long years and Spencer could still recall with perfect clarity every last inch of Ashley’s body without needing it on display in front of her.

“You ready for me?” Ashley asked in a voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Spencer looked up from her thoughts and regarded her ex with what she hoped was a dismissive glance. “I was always more than ready for you,” she retorted with an equally fake smile. “Get up on the massage table and we’ll get -” she paused and stared over at the masseur who had been watching everything that had happened thus far with amusement.

“Mikey,” he supplied.

“We’ll let Mikey do what he does best,” Spencer finished.

“Top on or top off?” the brunette asked, lifting her hands to the the ties at the back of her neck. The question was asked innocently enough but Ashley’s eyes held a serious challenge.

“I really couldn’t care either way,” the blonde replied, willing her own eyes to focus on the brunette’s face and not drop lower, “but Mindy’s the boss here, so it’s her call. Mindy, would you like my skanky ex to be half-naked or not?”

Ashley gave her a wry smirk of acknowledgement for seizing the initiative. Mindy, meanwhile, had flushed a very deep shade of purple. She had even stopped tapping at her BlackBerry. Her eyes were frantically darting between the two women, while her mouth was gaping open. A stifled gasp of laughter came from Mikey’s direction, while the hair and make-up girls were grinning broadly. Phil seemed to find something fascinating about the ground.

“Yes, well, uh… Let’s, um, start, uh, yeah, maybe with the bikini on?” she managed to stutter out.

Ashley shrugged and hopped up onto the massage table and lay down on her front. “Do what you do best, Mikey,” she murmured, echoing Spencer’s words.

The masseur grinned and began rubbing massage oil onto his hands. Starting at Ashley’s shoulders, he began silently going about his business. Picking up her Nikon D3, Spencer began snapping away while everyone in the cabana remained awkwardly silent. At first, the only noise came from the clicking of Spencer’s camera. Then the photographer in Spencer took over and she began giving direction.

“Okay, Mikey, I need you to come round to this side a bit… Yeah, like that… Phil, I need you to turn that reflector around. There’s an odd light on her back… Uh-huh, left a little more.”

“What about me?” Ashley asked. “What do you need me to do?”

Spencer couldn’t resist such an opportunity being presented to her. “Why don’t you just lie there and say nothing? You should be good at that. You’ve had plenty of practice.”

“Funny, but I don’t remember just lying there,” she shot back. “And I’m pretty sure the neighbours would disagree with your recollection of me having been silent.”

Spencer didn’t even flinch. She just continued snapping away. “Yeah, they must have heard plenty,” she agreed, “what with you dragging every ho in West Hollywood through that place.”

Ashley chuckled. “Oh, touché, Spence. Touché.”

Everyone lapsed into silence again. Spencer was so busy with her work that she was unaware that everyone in the cabana was watching the two of them in anticipation of the next burst of repartee. She stopped shooting and chewed her lip, thinking. Something wasn’t right. She walked over to the small table and hooked the Nikon up to the laptop, calling Phil over. They went through the shots so far, noting various issues with lighting and composition.

“What do you think, Phil? I don’t think the reflectors are giving us enough light.” The assistant murmured his agreement. “I think maybe we should also lose the top,” she commented. “It just looks kinda false like this. I mean, you’re usually naked under the sheet, right?”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me for long,” Ashley called over from the massage table.

Spencer ignored the comment. She picked up her Canon and adjusted its settings. With Phil, she adjusted the set-up of the reflectors and took a few test shots.

“Better, you think?” Phil nodded. “Right, Ash, I need you to take the top off. And, Mikey, pull that towel up to her waist. Oh, and, Ash, I need you to face this way and not away from me.”

Casually, and without embarrassment, Ashley reached behind her back and removed her bikini top. Spencer felt her heartbeat pick up at the sight of Ashley’s naked breasts. Far too many x-rated images flashed though her mind. Her mouth went dry as she remembered the feeling of those nipples hardening against the palms of her hands, the little whimpers that Ashley made. She shook her head. She needed to focus.

Holding her camera in one hand, she walked over to the massage table and knelt down at Ashley’s eye level. “All right, shut your eyes like it’s the most pleasurable experience you’ve ever had.” Inwardly she cursed her poor choice of words, but the brunette merely responded with a raised eyebrow and complied.

The shoot got underway again and, this time, Spencer was happier with the results. She directed Mikey, Phil and Ashley and, surprisingly, the brunette remained both compliant and silent. After about fifteen minutes, she stood and called Mindy over to review the shots. The older woman had remained uncharacteristically quiet since finding out that Spencer and Ashley were ex-lovers but regained a little of her intense babbling abilities as she enthused about a couple of images in particular. As Mindy discussed the images with Phil and Spencer, Mikey and the unnamed hair and make-up girls let themselves quietly out of the tent, leaving Ashley as the only person not standing around the laptop screen. Her loud cough alerted Spencer to this fact.

“Are you done with me now, Spence?” she asked, chastely sitting up with a towel pressed to her front.

The blonde bit her lip at all of the potential responses that she could give. Ashley had been co-operative and mostly respectful. They both had a job to do. The least she could do was try to be professional. “Sorry. Yes, of course. You can get dressed again now.”

Despite herself, she couldn’t help feeling a small pang of sadness at the thought of Ashley covering up. As she returned to her conversation with Mindy, Spencer mused that, if the last three-quarters of a hour had told her anything, it was that Ashley had merely improved with age. Sneaking a glance in Ashley’s direction, she couldn’t help but notice that the young coltish body that she had known so well had matured. She was still slim, but there was even more of a curve to her hips, more of a fullness to her perfect breasts. Surprisingly, she had added only one tattoo to the one that she had got with her half-sister, Kyla. A single pink rose now adorned the skin just above Ashley’s left ankle. She had noticed it as she circled the bottom of the massage table.

Trust Ashley to be even better looking, even hotter than she had been when they were together. That was just not fair. Surely there should be a law against that sort of thing, some universal karma that turned your ex-lovers into hags? She had just got older while Ashley had got better.

“What do you think, Spencer?” Mindy asked.

“What?” Spencer turned to face the older woman. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” From the corner of her vision, she saw Ashley grinning to herself and she knew instantly that her ex-girlfriend was aware just how much of a distraction she was being. She could have kicked herself. She should be hating Ashley, not sneaking longing looks at her.

“I was thinking maybe we should take a break before the next set-up in the steakhouse,” Mindy continued. “Ashley needs to get changed. And Gretchen and Sarah seem to have disappeared for a break anyway. Shall we meet up at about 9.30?”

Spencer nodded mutely, wondering who the hell Gretchen and Sarah were. Mindy stalked out of the cabana, her BlackBerry back in use. Phil turned away to start packing up the gear to move it to the next location. As they appeared to be the only two people left in the cabana, she began to put away her own cameras. Once she’d stowed everything in her bulky case, she asked Phil if he needed help, but he indicated that some hotel staff would do the heavy lifting.

Leaving the tent-like structure, she heard a voice ask, “So, can I buy you a coffee?” Ashley was sitting on the end of a pool lounger, signing a magazine for an expectant young male fan who was gazing at her appraisingly.

“I’d hate to drag you from your adoring fans. After all, I know how much you adore them back.” Suddenly, she had no problem finding her anger and she gave Ashley a look of disgust and moved past her in the direction of the casino entrance. As she stalked away, she could hear the singer commenting to the young man that she hoped he’d be coming out to see Purple Venom that evening.

“Spence, wait up!”

She spun around and stared at her ex-girlfriend, who was trotting after her. “What for, Ash? I don’t want to have a coffee with you and pretend that – what? You want to act like we’re old friends? You want to sit and catch up on the last decade? I don’t have anything to say to you, Ash. We’re both here to work. We just need to get through it, get it over with and then go our separate ways again.”

“No! I just -” Ashley’s shoulders slumped. “Do we have to fight, Spence? Couldn’t we at least be civil?”

“Ashley, I am being civil. After all, I haven’t punched you yet.”

The brunette gave a startled laugh. “I’m so scared. You hit like a girl, Spencer.”

“Yeah, well, I am a girl, in case you’d forgotten, Ashley.”

“I haven’t forgotten a thing,” Ashley responded in a low voice.

Spencer could hear remorse in the comment and she felt a quick pang of guilt for being so abrupt but then the fact that the simple statement had affected her just made her more angry, at herself as much as Ashley. She snorted derisively. “I haven’t forgotten anything, either, Ash. Especially not the sight of my girlfriend half-naked with a couple of random groupies.” She could see a flash of hurt pass across the other girl’s face, but she didn’t care. “Now, didn’t Mindy say that you had to get changed? Hadn’t you better go do that rather than bothering me?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and headed into the casino.

* * *

If she had been angry at the poolside, Spencer was now seething mad, sitting at an empty table in the steakhouse. It was after ten and there was no sign of Ashley. Someone had been dispatched to check in the brunette’s suite, but there was no sign of her and she wasn’t answering her cellphone, judging by the furious dialling and redialling of Mindy’s precious BlackBerry, which Spencer was beginning to suspect was surgically attached to the older blonde’s hand.

Spencer’s mood was not being helped by the male model, Chris, who had been hired to play the part of Ashley’s dining companion for the shoot. He was clearly a fan and kept pumping Gretchen and Sarah – who turned out to be hair and make-up – for information about Ashley in a way that implied that, not only he was planning on hitting on her, he thought he stood a high chance of getting lucky. Well, anything was possible with Ashley, Spencer supposed. Even if men had been to her taste, Spencer found Chris too blandly good-looking with his perfect teeth and perfect tan and close-cropped hair. She could hardly imagine anyone who looked less like someone that Ashley might date, although she accepted that she was a little bit out of the loop on that front, apart from the comments that her mother made about whatever actor/actress/model Ashley was supposed to be dating, according to the press.

When Ashley finally showed up at 10.15, flouncing in as if time had no meaning and people weren’t being paid around to wait on her, Spencer was determined to appear unperturbed even though Ashley was wearing a cornflower blue silk dress that clung to her in all the right places and made Spencer’s mouth go bone dry.

“Right,” she announced, clapping her hands once for emphasis, “now that Ashley has returned from… whatever it is that Ashley does,” her tone gave a very clear indication that she found the mere thought of what Ashley might have been doing to be thoroughly debased, “let’s get started.”

“Chad, if you take the chair facing me where we had you in prep.”

“Chris,” he corrected, all warm smiles and fake sincerity. He extended his hand towards Ashley. “Chris Grayson,” he said, giving her what he no doubt thought was his killer smile. Spencer could just imagine him in front of the mirror, practising it and giving himself the twin finger-guns gesture.

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer muttered. “How about you sit down, Chris? We’re late enough.” She knew that the boy – for he could hardly be more than twenty – had done nothing really to earn her scorn, but she had hated him on sight anyway. “Ashley,” she continued, “you are obviously therefore facing young Chris here. Clearly, this is a romantic dinner for two, so quiet smiles all round. No grinning.”

Seeing that Spencer clearly did not like the young man seated opposite her, Ashley smiled even more brightly at him. “Hi, Chris,” she purred in a tone that was almost a parody of sex-kitten sensuality and which made Spencer feel ill.

“Okay, we’re going to get some establishing shots with the waiter.” She motioned with her hand for a bow-tied young man to step forward. Everything was already set up. With the amount of time that they’d had to sit around, Spencer had already adjusted the lighting after a few test shots with Chris and Gretchen as Ashley’s stand-in. Firing off a few more tests and checking them on the camera’s large viewscreen, Spencer got Phil to make some minute adjustments and then started shooting for real.

“Right, come on, I need you looking at the menu and then up at the waiter. Talk it through so it looks more natural,” Spencer ordered as she moved around the table, trying a couple of different angles. She moved to a different camera already set up on a tripod.

“Well, sweetheart, what would you like for dinner this evening?” Chris asked, as he regarded his menu.

“Oh, I’m not sure exactly what I want, darling. Why don’t you order for me?” Ashley responded, lowering her menu and fluttering her eyelashes dramatically at her companion over it.

“Cut it out, Ash,” Spencer warned.

Without taking her gaze from young Chris, Ashley continued flirtatiously, “I like a man who takes charge, Chris. Can you be that man? Do you know what it is that I’d want? Do you think there’s a nice, big, juicy piece of red meat here with my name on it?”

The waiter, an actual hotel employee, dropped his pencil at that line and apologised as he bent down to pick it up again.

“Keep going,” Spencer ordered. “Chris, could you raise your chin a little? The way you’ve got it makes you look like you’ve got the neck of a bull.” The young man shot her a little look out of the corner of his eye, but did what he was told anyway. “And, Ashley, a little less porn this time, if you don’t mind.”

The brunette nodded and smiled sweetly in her direction. “Less porn, check. More romance, eh, Chris?”

The three people at the table started over, the waiter pretending to take their order while Ashley and Chris continued their flirtatious banter. Spencer was getting frustrated. She knew that Ashley was playing her and that she was being sucked right in by it, but she still couldn’t help the rising feelings of jealousy within her. With every coy comment that Ashley made in Chris’ direction, Spencer felt her grip on her camera getting tighter.

“Right, um, let’s do something else,” she commented, distractedly.

“The champagne?” Mindy suggested.

“Sure, let’s do that instead,” Spencer agreed.

Everyone waited while a bottle of Krug was brought from the back and poured into two champagne flutes at the table. Ashley continued to smile in Chris’ direction while he told her about some of the more famous photographers and models he’d previously worked with. “Of course, I’ve never worked with anyone as beautiful or as famous as you, though,” he added. Spencer rolled her eyes and tried to keep her breakfast down. Glancing in Phil’s direction, she could see that he was making a gesture of sticking his fingers down his throat and she grinned at him for his attempt at showing support.

“Don’t worry about the bottle,” Mindy commented, as the waiter hovered, unsure of whether to leave it on the table or not. “The hotel has someone who does the food and drink shots for them. Just put it in the ice bucket.”

Spencer and Phil made some further adjustments to the lighting before Spencer climbed onto a small photographer’s ladder to take a shot looking down at an angle.

“What shall we toast?” Chris asked, pulling out his best smile again.

“New friends?” Ashley suggested. “Delicious red meat?” Spencer could see Ashley glance in her direction to gauge her reaction. Spencer made them hold their glasses in toast for a while and try some different facial expressions, then directed them to drink. Chris tipped his glass back and took a mouthful, keeping his eyes at all times on Ashley, who merely raised the glass to her lips, but didn’t do the same.

“Ash, you need to drink the toast.”

Ashley turned to look up at Spencer. “I don’t drink anymore, Spence,” she commented quietly. “Maybe someone could get me some sparkling cider instead?”

The murmured comment hit Spencer like a hard slap. The thought that Ashley might give up drinking had never even occurred to her. Ashley was the proverbial party girl, always had been. Looking down at her now from her elevated position, Spencer could see something in the brunette’s eyes, a sadness, a note of pleading that she had never seen before. Putting her camera down, she descended and walked over to Mindy, holding up a finger in Ashley’s direction, wordlessly asking her to give her a minute.

“Mindy, this just isn’t working. If you and the resort want happy couple pictures of this place, you’d be better off getting two proper models who will do a better job of it. This,” she waved her hand around, “is not Ashley Davies. And if you want to link Ashley Davies and Red Rock, this isn’t going to do it.”

Expecting a fight, Spencer was taken aback when the older woman just sighed and agreed with her. “I know.”

“Oh. Well, um, what would you normally do if this was Purple Venom and not Ashley Davies?”

Mindy shrugged. “Party in the pool with plenty of nubile young women.”

Spencer shook her head that she was even considering this. “Well, I can safely say that nubile young women are right up Ashley’s street. Why don’t we get the band and do a proper shoot with her and Purple Venom in the pool having a proper rock-and-roll time? Nubile young men and women optional,” she added.

The other woman chuckled with relief. “Yeah, I think that might work. How long will it take for you to set up?”

Spencer thought back to what she knew of Purple Venom. “I’m not going to be your problem. Phil and I can be ready in half an hour, max. Getting Ashley and the boys out by the pool in the party mood might take some time. I don’t think they even get up before noon. I’m surprised enough that Ashley knew there was more than one eight o’clock in the day.”

Mindy opened her mouth to speak and then bit her lip, as if stifling whatever she had been about to say.

“Just ask,” Spencer responded with a mirthless smile.

“You and her?”

“The best and worst, most incredible eighteen months of my life. She’s -” Spencer paused and looked over to the table where Chris was staring at Ashley with puppy dog eyes and the brunette was covertly looking in Spencer’s direction with trepidation. She had always found Ashley hard to resist, but vulnerable Ashley made it even harder to harden her heart. “She’s like a force of nature. She turns your world upside down and makes you feel like there’s nothing but the two of you.”

“Sounds intense,” Mindy commented.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed softly, catching Ashley’s eye and giving her a shy smile. “Yeah.”

* * *

By one o’clock, the unmistakeable sounds of 1980s rock were reverberating out across the patio at the poolside. Ashley had rounded up the members of her father’s old band, none of whom needed to be asked twice to party in the pool with a free bar and a bunch of young women. This was definitely more in keeping with what she knew about Jimmy’s previous shoots for Mindy’s company.

People were laughing and having a good time, sipping cocktails in the shallow pool and singing along to the lyrics. They were the sort of songs that everyone knew, even if they didn’t really know how they knew. Spencer made her way along the poolside, trying to capture the spontaneity from as many angles as she could. Moving to the far side, she used a zoom lens to try to get better close-ups. No matter where she moved to, she just couldn’t get the shots that she really wanted. Muttering something to herself under her breath, she called Phil over and rested her hand on his shoulder while she stripped off her sneakers and socks. Standing up and feeling the hot clay against her bare feet, she fished into the pockets of her cargo shorts and emptied the contents into one of her shoes.

“Look after these and wish me luck,” she commented as she went over to her gear and selected her old Canon G10 with the waterproof housing. It was just as well that she’d packed it. It was in no way her favourite camera, and the underwater housing had cost more than the camera itself, but at least she wouldn’t cry if she got it damaged. Setting it and a small cloth for wiping the lens down at the poolside, she placed her hands at the edge, swivelled around and jumped in. Her shorts instantly felt about twenty pounds heavier. Picking up the camera and wading through the water, she started making her way through the throng of people and, immediately, she knew she’d made the right decision.

Duffy, the bassist, was wearing nothing but an indecently small pair of Speedos that hardly suited a grandfather in his early fifties, swigging from a beer bottle and telling anyone who would listen to him about the time that he and Steven Tyler from Aerosmith had gone on a three-day bender in Rio de Janeiro. TJ, the drummer, was trying unsuccessfully to steal a young guy’s cowboy hat. Randy, the new guitar player they’d hired for their comeback tour, was standing with his arms around two rapt young women in infinitesimally small bikinis, his head thrown back, laughing at something one of them had just said.

No-one but Spencer and those people who had been in the steakhouse when Ashley had made her announcement about no longer drinking would have suspected that the cocktail she held in her hands was nothing stronger than fruit juice. She was back in her bikini and she and Mike, formerly lead guitar and, these days, now lead singer, were playing air guitar together, dancing along to the music and singing loudly in each other’s faces.

All of the band members – including Ashley – were more than happy to pose and she managed to get a good variety of choreographed and candid shots before she started running out of memory. Ever helpful, Phil appeared by the side of the pool and took the camera from her, replacing the SD card with a new one and handing it back. As she turned back around, she found Ashley standing only a couple of feet from her, looking at her thoughtfully.

“Dance with me, Spence,” she stated, grinning in a way that made her nose crinkle. “It’s our song.”

Spencer cocked her head as she heard the intro of Poison’s Ev’ry Rose Has Its Thorn. “That’s not our song, Ash. We didn’t have a song.”

The brunette shrugged. “Well, we should have had a song.”

“We should have done a lot of things, Ash.”

“I know.” She bowed her head. As she raised it again, she was singing along with the lyrics, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes. Again, it was one of those songs that Spencer knew the lyrics to without really knowing them that well. As she watched Ashley singing just for her, she realised that it was a song of someone letting love slip away.

Ashley reached out and removed the camera from Spencer’s hands and set it down on the ground next to them. She lifted both her hands and placed them on Spencer’s hips, stepping a pace forward until they were almost touching. Leaning in so that her smoky voice could be heard only by Spencer, she started to sway a little in time to the song. Without really understanding what she was doing, Spencer felt her traitorous arms reach up and find a place behind Ashley’s neck. Their legs entwined as they moved together slowly. Even through her heavy shorts, Spencer could feel Ashley’s tanned thighs against her own and she had to shut her eyes against the sensations that she felt coursing through her body.

It was like stepping back in time. She was seventeen again and in her girlfriend’s arms. She could feel Ashley’s breath against her neck as the brunette sang just for her, as she often had back then. There might as well have been no-one else in the pool with them as Ashley weaved a sensual web around them. Her hands moved from Spencer’s hips to her lower back and she pulled Spencer even closer with only her fingertips. It encouraged her to give into her desire to bury her face in Ashley’s neck and inhale her scent. It didn’t exactly match her memories. It wasn’t just the chlorine from the pool. Ashley smelled different but somehow the same. Maybe it was because she’d given up her vices and her skin glowed healthily. Or maybe it was because she had been a girl then and was a woman now.

The song ended and another, harder rock song took its place, certainly not one to slow dance to. Yet, as Spencer felt Ashley pull back, smiling softly at her, everything still seemed to be happening in slow motion. She knew that it would have been the easiest thing in the world to lean forward and close the gap between them. Her gaze dropped to Ashley’s full lower lip and she saw her tongue sneak out to wet them in anticipation of the kiss that they both felt was coming.

Shaking her head, Spencer wordlessly stepped back and walked away, ignoring Ashley calling after her.

* * * * *

Next up: Part II – A Little More Action, Please [X, NSFW]