The Secret (The Evolution of Sin 2)

Elena stood on the step below the kitchen holding her pretty Prada purse in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. She brandished it now and tried to smile. “I brought a peace offering. Daniel told me I was a bit… rude at lunch.”

“You were a straight up bitch, my darling Lena,” Cosima corrected with a smile as she swooped down to hug her, uncaring of her unrobed state. “But I’m still glad you brought us wine.”

I smiled slightly at Elena as she was ushered into the kitchen to the seat beside me but I didn’t acknowledge her quasi apology because there was a much bigger one on the back of my tongue.

“Where are your clothes, Cosima?” Elena asked.

She grinned. “Giselle is going to paint me.”

“What, now?”

“Yes,” I said. “We were just getting started.”

“Where would you like me?” Cosima asked.

I bit my lip as I contemplated what she had told me and gave her a brisk nod when an idea came to me. “I’ll start with some sketches so you can keep your underwear on if you’d like. Stand over by the door.”

She captured the pose I wanted in less than thirty seconds, her years of modeling experience making her the perfect visual muse. I had her standing astride, facing me like a proud warrior, naked and daring. Her body was lush in all the right places and defied gravity just as Cosima had defied the weight of poverty and then, of expectation. I wanted her body in the sun, lit up under the brassy warmth like a trophy while her face, tucked slightly to the side, seeking the shadow, remained in the dark. I’d need to figure out how to catch the glimmer of gold in her eyes, the velvety softness of the color like worn cloth. The challenge excited me and I trapped my tongue between my teeth as I littered the floor with page after page of sketches.

Every woman in the world wished they looked like that, golden unblemished skin glistening over long muscles and delicate bones. The midday sun was not kind to a body but the harsh light shone like gilt on the inky waves rippling over her heavy breasts and tickling the bare

skin above her pubis. There were only three things disrupting her natural beauty; twin gold bars through her dark nipples, visible through the transparent lace bra, and a raised, bizarrely symmetrical scar three inches in diameter on her left butt cheek that she wouldn’t really let me look at.

“I’m sorry about that,” Cosima had said, dismissively gesturing at the nipple piercings. “Misspent youth in America and all that.”

I wanted to see more of the brand, pepper her with questions until she couldn’t help but sneeze out the answers.

Elena, for her part, kept curiously silent and empty of censure. I was pretty sure the nipple piercings had surprised her, that Cosima’s comfortable nudity offended her sensibilities, but she only sat perched on the stool with her legs crossed and her arms folded like a debutant at tea.

“You are so untroubled,” she breathed after a long stretch of pencil scraping and silence.

“I’ve never had a hard time with nudity.”

“How?”

I tried not to look at Elena but I desperately wanted to see if her expression matched the quiet despair in her tone.

“We were all meant to be naked.”

“Maybe women who look like you.”

“No.” Cosima’s arched brows slammed down. “Every person is beautiful naked.”

“Even without those curves?”

“Even with them?” I countered softly.

Elena and I looked at each other then and smiled.

“You don’t believe me because I look like this but that is why I like Giselle’s idea so much. Everyone is naked under his or her clothes, vulnerable under their masks and a person’s sexuality is an extension of their human need and their primitive desires. It is not a shameful thing.”

“Who knew the swimsuit model was so wise?” I teased, my strokes on the thick paper looser now to accommodate Cosima’s fluid expressions.

“You would be surprised by what standing in front of a camera every day will do to you.” Cosima winked but both Elena and I remained quiet because, I think, we had both wondered the exact same thing.

Elena sighed and propped her delicate face in her hands. “Listen, Giselle, I am sorry I was so negative earlier about your collection. I really would like to pose for you.” She hesitated. “It will be hard for me though so maybe I could go last? By then, you might not even want me.” She laughed awkwardly.

“I’ll want you.”