knew, even though he had to be eight, ten years younger than her.
As he came over with his hand outstretched, she saw him realize he was only an inch or so taller than her. They stood toe to toe, almost eye to eye, hands clasped. ‘It’s a real pleasure to finally meet you, Lee.’
‘And you, Matteo.’
‘Matt, please.’ He made a move to say something else and she guessed he’d reflexively been about to ask whether she’d seen the show – it would be all anyone ever talked about to him, she knew, his standard patter; but from the way he deflated fractionally again, she could tell he sensed she hadn’t, that she wasn’t one of the housewives he’d left in a flutter. He dropped her hand, breaking the gaze and casting a curious eye around the space, catching sight of the rail of sober clothes nearby. ‘So, what are we doing today?’
‘Well, as you can see . . .’ She paused, not quite able to suppress the boredom in her voice.
Did he pick up on it? His gaze came back to her again. ‘I am happy to put myself completely in your hands. I’ll submit to your vision, whatever that may be.’
Claudia gave a small startled sound that quickly became strangled under one of Bart’s delighted, arched-eyebrow looks.
Lee shifted her weight as she stared back at her subject, a small light climbing into her eyes, though it was scarcely visible behind the reflection of her glasses. ‘Really? . . . Are you quite sure about that?’
Chapter Three
‘They’re going to hit the roof,’ Bart said as she shrugged on her coat, her eyes on the clock. Their guests had just left and she had fifteen minutes to collect Jasper.
‘Good. Reaction is the whole point, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but there are still protocols to observe, as well you know. You didn’t use a single item of clothing they sent over. Couldn’t you at least have put him in a pair of trousers? I mean, they’re a magazine, Lee, they need to keep their advertisers happy—’
‘That’s their problem, not mine. I did my job and got the shot. That shoot will make the cover and the cover will sell out the issue and that’ll make the advertisers happy instead.’ She wound her scarf around her neck and pulled her hat on over her hair, making sure the little ears were on straight. She leaned over Bart as he sat on the high stool, resting her chin on his shoulder; he was looking at the images on the contact sheets on screen and she felt another small thrill of professional achievement, so rare these days. Matteo Hofhuis was utterly transformed from the cookie-cutter heartthrob who’d walked through the doors seven hours earlier. The beard was still there, but the hair was not (Lee always kept a pair of clippers in her props bag for just such moments as these) and his bare, tanned skin had been blackened, daubed and smeared with mud Bart had had to quickly gather from the pot plants in the lobby, mixing soil and water to her desired consistency. She had been adamant he had to look like a rough sleeper, a soldier, someone living by instinct, opportunity. She wanted to scrub off the starry artifice that was already layering upon him like a golden glow, to show him stripped back and raw.
The nudity hadn’t bothered him either. He looked good walking around with a tiny towel between shots and he was at that point in his career when he’d do anything to prove ‘artistic integrity’. It helped that Lee took a matter-of-fact approach to these things, offering to close the set for him – but it was only her, Bart and Claudia anyway, as she had sent away both the hair and make-up artists upon their arrival.
Claudia hadn’t realized the full extent of what was happening with her client until it was too late, Bart getting out the king-size stroopwafels at the pertinent point when Lee had brought out the clippers. She had started the shoot gently, taking the stool away and standing him in the black space in the very clothes he’d arrived in, getting him used to the camera as she prowled around him like a cat, changing height, perspective, coming in tight, pulling away, insisting he keep his eye locked on the lens at all times. She had got Bart to turn up the thermostat and as the studio warmed and his layers came off, as the