My mind wandered as my hand swooped across the thick page, inevitably settling on my situation with Sinclair. In just over two weeks we had lunched together twice, gone to see Cage play a solo set at a new bar in Soho, and attended an art show in Brooklyn. We had been careful though, not to be anywhere private. After what had happened at Cosima’s apartment, I think we were both wary of our control. It was also the reason why I hadn’t asked him to sit for me even though Elena wanted his portrait done in less than a month. Instead, I chose to work from picture and memory. There were enough photos of him on the yacht in Mexico and online, that I felt confident enough to produce his likeness.
I would see him tonight too, at the Romani International gala but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. He would be there with my sister, his girlfriend, on his arm. They made a beautiful couple, immaculate as wedding cake toppers.
Even though we hadn’t touched inappropriately since I had stroked myself at his behest after the club that night, the electric current between us was constantly charged and I wondered if we would be able to mask it well enough to fool our families tonight.
“Giselle.”
I looked up at Elena and tried not to sigh in defeat. She stood before me in a gorgeous grey cashmere coat that perfectly complimented her long artfully curled bob. Her heart shaped face was exactly the same as mine but her features were more refined, delicate and small like a China doll. Only her eyes, a deep grey under slightly heavy lids, could have been anything but classically pretty, maybe even sexy if she let them be.
I shook myself as I stood up to give her a kiss on each cheek. “You look lovely. Would you like a cup of tea?”
She shook her head and swallowed. “It’s after four, isn’t it? I’d love some whiskey.”
My eyebrows shot up before I could help it. “Uh, sure. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and I’ll get us some glasses.”
We were quiet as I puttered about the kitchen looking for the alcohol and tumblers but she was thinking so loudly it rivaled the buzz of the refrigerator.
I smiled gently at her as I sat down and handed over her drink. “I know you might be uncomfortable but we should talk about your, um, sexual preferences before we get started.”
“I don’t like it,” she blurted out, her eyes enormous with horror. Her hand clamped over her mouth as she shook her head.
I watched her mutely as she took a long sip of the burning whiskey and straightened her shoulders. “I apologize. I meant to say, I don’t really enjoy sex.”
What!? How could she not enjoy sex with Sinclair? Of all the things she could have divulged, I never would have guessed it was this.
“I understand that men need it,” Elena explained calmly, as if we were taking about the weather. “But I’ve never really understood the appeal.”
“Have you never orgasmed?” Again, I couldn’t fathom that Sinclair, the man who had unraveled me so thoroughly in Mexico, could have failed to bring any woman the ultimate pleasure.
I felt a little sick, talking to Elena about Sinclair like that but I had trapped myself in a corner and could only pray that we ended the conversation quickly.
She stared into her nearly empty glass and swirled the contents. Her face was slack with unspeakable sadness.
“Do you remember Christopher?”
A shudder racked my body. Why was she bringing him into this? I nodded.
“When you left he came back for me, still wanted to marry me.” Her accent had slipped back into her words, a silk ribbon strangling her speech. “Mama approved. She didn’t know about what had happened between you and he.” She shot me a look, not accusatory – I could have dealt with that – just sad. “She let me stay with him a lot, because we were going to be married. He took advantage of it, keeping me for days at a time.”
“What did he do?” I whispered.
I knew what Christopher was capable of.
She shrugged soggy shoulders. “A lot of things. Things that I don?
??t have words for. One day he went too far. Luckily, Cosima was in town. She came to take us to America.” She laughed wetly, her sloe-eyes glistening. “I still don’t know how she found me, but that was the last time I ever saw him.”
We were silent. My hand trembled as I poured her more whiskey.
“Anyway, I can orgasm and, trust me, with Daniel, I do. But the desire for it.” She shrugged. “It’s just not really there.”
I stared down at my sketchpad for a few minutes as I tried to digest our conversation. The silence wasn’t awkward though, and when I looked back up at my older sister she was biting her thumb nail like she had done as a child.
“Hey Elena?” I murmured, waiting until her low-lidded eyes met mine. “Do you want to go out for a drink?”
“Well, what about the painting?”
I stood up and winked at her. “I’d rather get drunk.”