2008-05-23 - 10:16 p.m.

Just because you�re not paranoid doesn�t mean they�re not watching you.

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Clay stretched out his arm, feeling around the nightstand for his phone. He didn�t want to answer it, but it was more important to stop the ringing before disturbing her. When he saw his publicist�s name, he knew it was probably important. �I think I have to take this. I�m sorry,� he whispered.

She rolled over to kiss him on the shoulder. �It�s okay. I�m not going anywhere.�

�Gina, what time is it?� he said, trying to focus on the clock. �What�s going on?�

�I�m sorry to call so late. Early. Take your pick. Not that I�ve been sleeping or anything with this shit��

The worry in Gina�s voice startled him. He got up and pulled on his bathrobe. �What happened? Are people upset that I didn�t go to the party?� It was the end of his first run on Broadway, and he knew some local media had planned an event to celebrate his success. He�d figured there was a possibility that someone would get in a snit if he didn�t attend and try to Page Six him again, calling him a diva, or the insult du jour, but he had much better plans for the evening.

�If someone�s crabbing about the party, they�re not bitching to me about it. This is much more of a headline-grabber. I need to talk to you about something. Something you did tonight.�

Clay closed the bedroom door behind him, nervously. Nobody knows anything. They couldn�t. He paced the small living room, circling the coffee table. �I didn�t do anything. I didn�t go out. I left the theater and came home.�

Hearing Gina�s sigh through the phone made him chew his thumbnail. �So, you didn�t do anything. Nothing.�

�No.�

�Nothing. Show was over, you did your autographs at the stage door as usual�nothing out of the ordinary.�

�Right. After I left, the driver picked me up and I came home.� His heart pounded so loudly he was sure it would wake the neighbors.

�So these pictures a guy from the Post sent me�shots from a video he says he has�it�s not you?� Clay sat on the arm of the sofa, his face getting hot. �You gonna stop lying to me?�

�Video? That�s not possible. I mean, unless it�s just of me�us�getting in the car or something. She�s a friend. I�ve known her for a while now, and it�s not like she�s anyone that anybody needs to know anything about.� He shook his head, fearing the worst. �I don�t want her to get hurt. She�s just�she�s important to me, but it�s my business. And damn it, it�s not like we�� He got lost in thought.

Gina waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. �Clay? Honey, take a deep breath. Nobody�s after her. Well, not yet. They�re after you.�

�But I��

She used the most calming tone she could muster. �Now, why don�t you tell me why I�m looking at grainy pictures from your dressing room at the Shubert that look like you and some blonde girl�uh�in flagrante delicto.�

Clay began to pace again. �How did someone�did somebody plant a camera in there? Is there, like, some kind of�peephole? Who could have�why would somebody�Gina, how did this happen? Nobody saw me take her in there. I mean, she had her pass to come backstage after the show to see me, and I left her in the room while I went to do the stagedoor thing�maybe somebody noticed she didn�t come out when I did.� He muttered while tapping his thumbnail against his teeth. �Maybe somebody�she would have told me if someone came in. And she locked it when I left and let me in when I came back. Nobody�she would never have let someone�I mean, not that I think she had anything to do with it because I totally trust her, and jeez, she�s almost as shy as I am about that stuff! It�s not like she�d be able to do it in front of a camera��

He could hear typing and clicking on Gina�s end. �Go check your email. I just sent you what they sent me.� He went to his dining room table and powered up his laptop. �It doesn�t look like good enough quality that it would be a camera in the room. The angle is too weird. It�s such a small room I can�t imagine there was anywhere to hide anything. Anyway, I�ve heard some weird shit about old theaters, and how people pull pranks on each other, how sometimes there are ways to spy on people�I don�t know, it�s just a guess. Maybe someone was just doing it for a goof and didn�t know what they were getting into. Maybe they just wanted a shot of you half-dressed, and got more than they bargained for. You�ll see when you get the email. All I know is, the guy from the Post won�t tell me anything about who sent it, but it�s obvious where you were when�when you were being taped. No doubt it�s the dressing room.�

Clay opened Gina�s email and paused to compose himself before clicking on the files. �Okay. Here goes.�

�Clay, wait a second.� He stopped. �I want you to know that I haven�t seen the video, but the guy from the Post has. He�s the one who made the screenshots, or so he says. But he did say it was�jeez��

�It was what?�

She sighed. �He said it was �hot.� And I kinda got the impression that he didn�t mean the story when he said it. And I�m not going to comment on the pictures. You�re a client and a friend and I�ve got to be impartial. Professional. All that shit. Okay?�

�Okay.� As much as he wouldn�t want to admit it, he got a shiver when she said it. A small part of the fear melted away, replaced by the anticipation of seeing something dirty.

He opened the first file. Definitely a clear shot of him as she kissed his neck. Can�t see her face. That�s good.

Clay brought up the email window again and clicked on the second file. He inhaled sharply as he saw her bared legs. She was sitting on the edge of his dressing table with her skirt hiked up, pulling him towards her using her feet. Her hands were out of view, between her legs, reaching towards him. The expression on his face reminded him what she was doing down there. Look at her. God, look at her skin. He was so mesmerized by the light glinting off the curve of her pale shoulder and upper arm, revealed after he�d pulled her blouse and bra strap down it, that, for a moment, he forgot this photo wasn�t supposed to make him feel so good.

He clicked again. A similar shot to the previous, only obvious by their faces what was going on in places he couldn�t see.

After a minute or so, when he realized he�d been studying that picture more closely than he probably needed to, he advanced to the next picture. It was clearly from later in the video, because she was no longer sitting on the edge of the table, but facing it. The lights around the vanity were illuminating her face as she tipped her head back against him. Clay remembered that he�d been talking to her as she turned, indicating what he wanted her to do, and what he liked. Wow, this video�I wonder if it has sound?

Opening the next shot, he was transfixed by the double-image of her face as she leaned towards the mirror, biting her lip with her eyes shut. His mind drifted to the memory of the way her back and hips moved, and how the mirror had just begun to fog from the heat of her breath as she�

�Clay? Did I lose you?�

He closed the window, startled. �I�m here. I was just, uh�what does the guy want? Is he, like, threatening something?�

�He hasn�t technically threatened anything. Yet. I�ve been through something like this before, and it�s got the potential to get ugly. Of course, that was with a client who was, you know, married. Different situation. Same sort of pictures, though. Only it was a private detective-type thing. Not all grainy and fuzzy like these. Although this one is pretty clear��

He shook his head, surprised, as he realized he could hear clicking through the phone. �Are you looking at them again?�

�No! I mean�yeah. But only because I�m trying to figure out his next move. I guess he could have more up his sleeve. I don�t know what else he could have seen. I guess you do, though.�

Clay could feel himself blushing, and he began getting lightheaded, as if his blood couldn�t decide where it wanted to go. �Yeah. Yeah, I guess there�s probably more.� He crossed to the sofa and leaned back against a pile of pillows. There was so much in between those first pictures and the last two. It was as if the guy captured shots from just the beginning and the end. �Gina, you�ve got to get me that video.�

�What?�

�If someone is going to have a video of me�doing that�then I should have it! But I don�t want you watching it. Just have him send it to you and forward it. Promise me you won�t watch, and I promise I�ll let you know anything I think you need to know about from it.� There was silence on the other end. �Gina. I want it.�

He could hear her sigh. �You know he�ll still have it. It�s not like in old movies where you get an envelope of negatives�okay look, I can�t do anything legally right this second. But when I get off the phone with you, I�ll get the lawyers involved. I�ve sent emails, but obviously they haven�t gotten them. I�ll wake somebody up.�

�Good. But first get it for me. Be mean about it. Make him send the whole thing. Whatever you have to do.� He sat up, determined. �I want that file.�

She promised he�d have it as soon as she could manage. They said quick goodbyes and he began to pace the living room, a combination of nerves and excitement propelling him. He�d never seen anything like what he was hoping would soon show up in his inbox. Not starring himself, anyway. He wasn�t the type of person who would set up a video camera, but there was something oddly exciting about being able to see himself uninhibited, natural, and having such a good time. Not to mention seeing her doing the same. And being able to see her anytime he wanted, no matter how far apart they were.

Clay looked over his shoulder at his laptop on the dining table. He debated whether or not he should look at the pictures again. He wondered if he would tell her about them. If she didn�t like the idea of those pictures being saved onto his hard drive, would he get rid of them�or merely hide them from her? It�s not like there isn�t a secret folder on my computer, like anybody�s. It�s not like I�m different from any other guy. It�s not like�

The computer made a familiar sound. He�d just received an email. He nearly fell over a pair of his shoes as he rushed across the room.

She rolled over and reached for him, but he hadn�t gotten back into bed. She blinked at the darkness and noticed a faint but familiar blue glow coming under the door. He�d better not be playing Freecell again, the addict. As she quietly made her way down the short hallway, she recognized the sound of his soft moaning.

�Wow,� she said when she reached the living room, putting her hands playfully on her hips. �Whatever you�re watching must be good. Can I play?�

They slept late the next morning. Clay was so exhausted from his long night that his body forgot to be anxious about the Post, but when his phone rang again, he jumped out of bed and ran to the living room to pick it up. He was surprised to hear Gina laughing on the other end.

�Good news?� he asked.

�I suppose it is, although you might not like it. I didn�t have to throw nearly as much legal at him as I thought I would.�

�Don�t tell me a guy from the Post grew a conscience.�

She laughed again. �Far from it. Turns out when he showed the pictures to his editor this morning, the guy wasn�t interested.�

Clay was a little insulted. Those pictures were just as hot as they�d said. Probably hotter, even. �Why not?�

�I guess the media just isn�t interested in graphic, undeniable evidence that Clay Aiken had sex with a woman.�

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