Porn

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Kate’s chin came up. “Christ. You didn’t.”

“No, of course not. There could have been a dozen guys down there, just waiting. But still– I can’t tell you how it made me feel; the thought of taking my clothes off in front of a complete stranger. It gnawed at me. I mean, I couldn’t sleep for a friggin’ week just thinking about what that would have been like; how it would feel. His eyes on me. You never felt that way?”

“Hell, never.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

Kate paused a beat. “I guess I understand better than you think but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it.” Kate hesitated. “A dozen guys? Could you have even handled that?”

Erica laughed. “I might– if you were there, filming it.”

Kate was thinking of Monica, naked on a tennis court. “Filming it?”

“I told you– surprised? It’s just the way I feel, I guess. On camera.”

“And you are thanking your father for it...”

They sat a moment, each pondering an empty glass.

Erica broke the silence. “I don’t know. You read about women r***d in war-time. Stripped and laid open. The men lining up to take their turn; dozens maybe. It makes me shudder...” She paused a moment, lost to the thought. “You still living with Monica Selleck?”

Kate had to wonder at the sudden change of direction. “You know Monica?”

Erica shot Kate a long-suffering look. “I do sports, remember. Monica’s going to the Women’s Open.”

“Yeah. I remember. She mentioned something about it. I hope she gets a good seat. She loves tennis.”

Erica’s eyes went round, then narrowed. “Good seat? You kiddin’ me? If she qualifies, she’ll be playing in the championships.”

It was Kate’s turn to lift her eyebrows. “She can do that?”

Erica reached for her bag. “That’s why they call it an Open dummy... it’s open to anyone who can qualify.”

“And do you think she can?”

Erica got up and tossed a twenty on the table. “I’m hoping she’ll be my next big interview. The money interview that lands me a real job. Look, I gotta get to the cable station and talk some techie into editing this interview with Angelo. I’ll get a dub and the memory card back to you tomorrow.”

“No hurry,” Kate called after her, “I got a bunch of ‘em.” And she watched Erica move toward the doorway, her loosely fitted summer dress swirling about superbly muscled thighs. Sexy as hell.

What followed was a busy week for Katie. Monday was a full schedule of classes. Her major was Cinema Photography. And her elective, Still Life. Though her passion was the movie camera, still life photography forced her to use the viewfinder as her canvas. Lighting as her palette. So she had spent an intense Monday afternoon behind one of the college’s 12x14 studio cameras working on portrait shots with a girl from the Fashion Department.

It left Katie tired and satisfied, but in no mood for what awaited her when she returned to her apartment just after six. The door was wide open this time.

A quick check of Monica’s room told the tale: Her bed and vanity were gone. Along with the rest of her clothes. All that remained of Monica Selleck were a few friggin’ dust bunnies.

Katie slumped to the carpet in the hallway and buried her face in her hands. She would have to start all over, mid term, to try to find a new roommate. Someone she could stand to live with. She dreaded the interviews, the phone calls, the follow-up references, the rejections. If only she could carry the apartment on her own. But that was a pipe-dream. Finally she mustered the courage to drag the vacuum from the closet. It was a start.

When the phone rang on Sunday afternoon, Katie was knee-deep in dirty laundry.

It was Erica, breathless. “You got your TV on? Channel 7. Christ, Kate. You won’t flippin’ believe it. Go to Channel 7 for christ-sake! Now!”

She killed the call; didn’t even give Katie a chance to respond.

Katie fisted the remote from the coffee table and hit the power button. The screen widened and was suddenly filled with Monica Selleck. She clutched a silver trophy and a bouquet of roses. Kate moved to the sofa.

“How does it feel?” someone was asking her ex roommate.

“Are you kidding me?” Monica displayed a mouthful of glistening teeth. “I beat her. No, listen– I killed her.” She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and shook out thick damp hair. “I’m the best. And I’ll defend the title against anyone, anywhere. I annihilated her, god-damnit!”

The shot switched to the two announcers in the booth. “A shocker. Monica Selleck, a complete unknown from Caramel, California, has just upset the reigning Champion, in two straight sets. In a dazzling display of speed and footwork, she blew away the Champion as if the defender had weights in her tennis shoes. Curt. Your comments, please.”

The camera swung around. “Ted. It’s a shocker unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the world of tennis. Monica took the game to the Champion in the very first set and never looked back. The Champion rallied momentarily in the second set but it was too little and way too late for her. What a shock for the ex-Champion. Toppled by a complete unknown.”

“Let’s go back down to the court where Amy Curtis is trying to get an exclusive interview. Amy?”

“Yes Curt. As you can see, it’s a zoo down here at court-side. Just to review: Monica Selleck has just beaten the reigning Champion, two sets to zip. Monica. Can you tell our viewers what you’re feeling right now?”

In a practiced move, Monica flipped her hair and grinned like a movie star. “Surprised. Thoroughly surprised.”

“Surprised by your unprecedented win?”

“Crap no. Surprised at how easy it was. Is this the best you have to offer me? I blew her outta the water. And would do it again tomorrow if anyone is willing to put up the cash.”

Amy shifted the microphone. “Can you tell us a bit about the strategy you used to up-set the Champion, how did you prepare?”

“Strategy?” Monica tossed her chin and laughed. “There was no strategy. I came here to win. And I did. I out-played her. Beat the damned pants off her ugly butt.”

Amy gawked and turned away. “That’s it from court-side. Back to you Curt.”

Curt looked up, unexpectedly, into the camera lens. “Well, modesty doesn’t seem to be the new Champion’s strong point.”

“I guess, but she’s awfully young,” his sidekick, Ted, added. “Still has a lot to learn, maybe. But she’s right about one thing: Monica took command early in the game and never let up. She literally beat the champ into submission. She’s a strong girl and I’m willing to bet she has the stamina for the long haul.”

“Sorry to cut you off there Ted, but Amy is indicating a new development, court-side. Amy? Over to you.”

Katie edged forward on the sofa and turned up the volume as Biff’s face filled the screen.

“Yes Curt. Amy here with Biff Lancaster, Monica Selleck’s tennis coach.”

The camera focused in on Biff’s big congenial face.

“Mr. Lancaster. You claim to be Monica’s coach?”

Biff straightened his shoulders. “Well more than that, if you get my drift,” and he gave Amy a crude wink, “but yes,” he continued. “I’ve worked extensively with Monica over the years and today it paid off. Obviously.”

Amy was quick on the uptake. “You’re hinting at a romantic involvement with the new Champion?”

“Well we’ve been going at it, for a while now,” he said smugly. “She’s a handful, as you’ve probably guessed. But that’s the way I like ‘em.”

“I see.” Amy started to sound dubious. “So am I hearing wedding bells in Monica’s future?”

Now Biff laughed outright. “Wedding bells? More like cash register bells.”

There was a shriek in the background.

Biff half turned. “What the...”

Then Monica’s voice was heard above the noise of the crowd. “Biff you asshole. Is that you? What the christ are you doing here?”

Biff hunched as if he’d been shot at. “Telling ‘em the truth,” he shouted back over a shoulder.

“You shut your god-damned mouth, Biff Lancaster.” Monica was wading through the clutch of reporters like she was swimming upstream. “Don’t listen to him. I’m warning you. Don’t listen to him.” Monica swiped at a photographer who stood in her way with what was left of her bouquet of roses, using them like a carpet beater.

Biff turned back to the camera. “She’s just pissed. Doesn’t want me to tell you about the video I shot.”

Amy, sensing a story, pressed on. “You have a video? What video?”

Biff sniffed and then narrowed his eyes and gave Amy a sidelong look. “The new Champion likes to play tennis in the raw. You get my meaning?”

Amy hesitated, not knowing whether to continue. “In the raw?” she stumbled out.

“You heard me.” Biff was looking back over his shoulder again, to where Monica was struggling to reach him with her nails turned out. “Naked. Nude. Au natural. How else do you want me to spell it out?”

“And you have video?”

Biff shrugged. “Well not on me. But I can get it, I mean– if you’re interested.”

Amy, knowing she had waded into uncharted waters and fearful of where the interview was headed, turned away. “That’s it from court-side. Back to you Curt,” she said, picking the safer route over the course of valor.

A startled Curt quickly moved to conclude the broadcast. “It’s been an interesting day here at the US Women’s Tennis Open. Once again, the new Champion is Monica Selleck, an unknown player from Caramel, California. It will be interesting to see how the new Champion pans out in the coming year. Now back to our studios in New York where Howard is covering the welter-weight boxing match from New Jersey. All for now and thank you for watching.” The music came up.

Kate, feeling a bit bewildered, slumped back on the sofa cushions. Monica had won the US Tennis Open. And Biff was there, shooting his mouth off and talking about a video. Her video? What the hell was that all about? Katie’s hands were still shaking when her phone chimed. It was Erica, sounding like she had run a five-minute mile and forgotten to breathe.

“God, did you see? She won. I mean she actually won the damned thing. I knew she might have a chance at making the finals. But she actually won it.”

Kate steadied the phone against her cheek. “I didn’t see the game, just the end. What was that about a video?”

“Christ. Something about her playing in the nude. You live with her. I thought you might tell me. She ever talk about playing tennis without her clothes? You’ve got to get me an interview.”

Katie suddenly felt her neck was caught in the wringer. Erica was a friend and she hated to disappoint her. “Erica, I can’t. Monica’s gone. She doesn’t live here anymore. We had a disagreement and she moved out.”

There was stunned silence.

Katie leaned forward and massaged her temples. “Erica? You there?”

“I can’t believe it...” Erica’s voice went watery. “An interview with Monica would be the break I’ve been looking for. Would launch my career. And you won’t help me?”

Katie felt like she’d been s**t-on. “It’s not that I won’t. I can’t! She’s not here anymore.”

Kate could feel the frustration mounting through the phone. “You can’t call her?”

“Look, I’d do anything for you, Erica. You’re my friend.” Katie blew out a breath. “Okay. I’ll try her cell phone and if she’ll talk to me, I’ll congratulate her on the win and take it from there. I’ll try. I really will, but that’s all I can promise.”

Erica thought it through. “Okay then. Thanks. And she never mentioned this nude tennis thing to you? Never implied it’s how she gets her jollies?”

Kate glanced over at the drawer in her desk where the three SM memory cards, her raw footage, sat among old shopping lists and canceled checks. And then the disk: her edited version of Monica Selleck prancing around the tennis court with her breasts bouncing free an’ easy in time to the swing of her racket.

What would Erica do with that video? Kate abruptly realized she had it in her power to skyrocket her friend’s career in sports casting. There were any number of ways that Erica could use that video footage of Monica to make herself a broadcasting star. And, Katie thought, make her a star as well. And why not? After all, she had shot the film and, despite the content, it was a professional piece of work. The lighting, the sound, the camera angles; they all worked.

But Monica was no dummy. She’d want the video.

Kate shook herself. “Look Erica, I’ll make the call for you and I’ll try my damnedest to get Monica to talk to you.”

“And you’ll document it?” Erica’s voice lifted along with her spirits.

“I can’t promise that,” Kate heard the disappointment in her own voice, “I don’t think she’ll want to see me. Now look, I gotta go. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Kate disconnected and stared at the laundry that was spewed about her living room floor but she was too preoccupied to see the heaps. If she called Monica, Monica would demand the return of the video. Monica would know how damning the nude images of her on the tennis court would be. And then there was the spanking. Christ...

Kate was certain Monica would kill to get her hands on that raw footage. She also expected Biff would be nosing around. He too, would know the value of the video.

In a moment of clarity, Kate got up from the sofa and stepped over the dirty bed-sheets. She opened the desk drawer and removed the memory cards and disc. Kate placed them into the bottom of her shoulder bag and snapped it shut. She wondered just how much a security box was going to cost her at the local bank.