“We have no choice. He booked you three months ago, from London, for a job that he knew he had coming up over here. He's only here for a few weeks to service some of his American accounts, and then he'll go back to London. I hear he keeps a house there, another in Athens, an apartment in Paris, and a villa in the South of France.”
“Does he only travel or does he also work?” For some reason the very sound of his name annoyed her. He sounded spoiled, and she had already met a few of his genre. International playboys hiding behind cameras, using it as a new and interesting way to pick up girls. And that she did not need. As Dorothea said, she was a pro, and she worked like one. Vasili Arbus didn't sound like her cup of tea.
Dorothea looked at her over her glasses. “Why not give him a chance?” And then she added with thoughtful deliberation, “As a photographer. Not as a man. He's charming as hell, but Vasili Arbus is not someone to get involved with. Not that you would.” She smiled at Serena, who looked amused.
“I must be known in this business as The Ice Maiden.” Serena grinned, but Dorothea shook her head.
“I don't think so, Serena. I think most of the guys just know that you don't fool around. It makes you easier to work with, I suspect. There are no expectations other than the obvious professional ones.”
“Well, I'll just see that Mr. Arbus understands that.”
Dorothea couldn't repress a smile. “With him, I must admit, you may have a little more trouble.”
“Oh?” Serena arched an aristocratic eyebrow. She never had trouble with anyone she worked with, because she chose not to.
“You'll see. He's just like a big charming child.”
“Terrific. I want to go on vacation, and you stick me with working for a childlike playboy.” Dorothea mused for a moment, Serena had inadvertently come up with the perfect description of Vasili. That was just what he was—a childlike playboy. “Anyway, see what you can do. If you can't cancel him, I'll do it. Just so he does the work quickly, and I can get the hell out of town for a rest while the rest of my family is still away.” She had two weeks before Vanessa came back from camp and Teddy returned from Newport.
“I'll do what I can.”
But the next morning Dorothea informed her that she had been able to shift everything around except Vasili Arbus, arid he expected her to come to his studio at two o'clock that afternoon.
“Any idea how long he'll be shooting?”
“He thought maybe two days.”
“All right,” Serena sighed. Two days she could handle, and then she could go somewhere for a few days and relax. She couldn't join Teddy in Newport of course, because of his mother, but she didn't even mind that. She knew that his life there was a round of parties, and when she went away, she didn't even want to comb her hair.
She got the address of the studio Arbus was using, checked her supplies, makeup, hair spray, mirrors, an assortment of brushes, four pairs of shoes, a bathing suit, some shorts, stockings, three different brassieres, and a little simple jewelry. You never knew what you were going to need when you went to work.
She reported to the address she'd been given at exactly two thirty and was led into the studio by his assistant, a very attractive young man. The boy spoke English with an accent, it was not quite a lisp, and not quite a slur, he had dark brown hair and olive skin, big black eyes, and a boyish air about him, and Serena guessed correctly that he was Greek.
“We've seen a lot of your work, Serena.” He looked at her admiringly. “Vasili likes it very much.”
“Thank you.” She smiled pleasantly at him, wondering how old he was. He looked about nineteen, and she felt like his grandmother at twenty-eight.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Thanks. Should I start working on my makeup?” She also wanted to know how they wanted her to do her hair, but the young man with the black eyes shook his head.
“Just relax. We're not shooting this afternoon. Vasili just wants to meet you.” At two hundred dollars an hour? He was paying just to meet her? Serena looked a little surprised.
“When do we start working?”
“Tomorrow. The next day. When Vasili's ready.” Oh, Jesus. She