I looked into the fire, wanting to laugh for some reason. This was like a dream, unravelling so quickly and so absurdly.
‘The thing about your article, Sarah,’ he said softly, ‘is that it was written with more than academic curiosity. It was written with enthusiasm. With love.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so. Only somebody close to the subject could have written about it in the way you did. No “ugh, those old-school freaks”. No “isn’t this interesting, in a scholarly, abstract kind of way, of course”. You understood the allure of those whips and cuffs. Didn’t you?’
I was under the spotlight, on the spot. There was no feasible response to this other than a good deal of squirming and evasive body language.
But something told me that Jasper Jay wasn’t a man who would stand for squirming and evasive body language.
‘Didn’t you?’ he persisted. ‘There’s no point trying to deny it. I see it in you.’
‘Do you mean to say that you read my article, placed the advert in the hope that I’d respond and, and …?’
‘Had you hired on the spot? Yes. My agent knew she had to give the job to Sarah Wells. So when Sarah Wells walked into the office … bingo.’
He clicked his fingers and beamed with delight.
My toes were curled right under and I realised that every muscle in my body was held in a state of supreme tautness, as if in preparation for some kind of desperate death-match. Did it mean I was scared? I didn’t feel scared. Not exactly.
‘But why?’
‘You’ve seen my collection. I had hoped to leave it until later in the summer, when you’d finished the more … orthodox … portion of your task and my filming schedule was complete, but it can’t be helped, can it? Even my strict timetable can be subject to sudden changes.’
‘Why did you come back? I thought you were in France till August.’
‘So did I.’ He sighed, sipped his wine. ‘Our leading man disagreed. Ridiculous bastard went and got his leg broken in a jetski accident. Next movie I make, I’m having everyone, cast and crew, living in a barracks and having to apply to me for passes to get out.’
‘Control-freaky.’
He smiled at me again.
‘Yes.’
I appeared to have finished the wine. Christ, that was quick. I needed to sip from the glass, for my hands to have something to do besides shaking.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ he said. I watched his fingers, long and white, stroke the stem of his glass. ‘Unless you want to be.’
‘I can’t help it,’ I said, a tad mutinously. ‘This situation isn’t covered in Emily Post. I don’t know what to say or do, or …’
‘Just say what you feel. Do what you feel.’
‘In that case –’ I put the glass down with an overstated flourish ‘– I’m going to bed.’
He shrugged and smiled, watching me make as dignified an exit as I could.
‘Sweet dreams,’ he said when I reached the door.
I looked back at him. His face was shadowed, his brow low, the smile a Hollywood-white tease.
I fled.
I turned the key in my door lock and sat down on the bed, catching my breath. Situation out of control. I had to try and slot the different pieces of the night into place, discipline them into making some kind of sense.
One: I shagged Will.
Two: Will showed me Jasper’s collection of BDSM gear.