Mr. Imperfect

chapter 39



Mike Cannon was a man of his word. He called all right. And like he promised, he treated her like a sister. He was the big brother she’d never had—the big brother whose naked ass she was currently imagining as she sculpted the clay in front of her while she talked to him on the phone. It was like participating in an artist’s version of porn.

She had to be careful not to drink while she was on the phone with him anymore—not because she might say something she might regret, but because she might say something she really wanted to say. Something like, Did you know that I’m imagining you naked right now? or You know, I would love it if you would pose for me when you come in September. I would love to do a nude of you. Or there was the off chance that she might go really transparent with something like, I’m trying to create the perfect male ass. Mind sending me a picture of yours?

Would he? What would he say?

“What are you working on?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Rori blinked herself back to the present. “How can you tell I’m working on something?”

“The way you talk,” he said.

“Oh, well, a sculpture, actually.”

“Of what?”

She hesitated, feeling a little embarrassed. She was never embarrassed. “Well, my theme is connection, so I guess you can say that I’m sculpting the most intimate connection possible.”

He hesitated. “A baby in the womb?”

“Ha ha,” she said, noting his too-innocent tone. “No I’m doing the part right before that—the part where the guy buries himself inside the girl and gets the baby ball rolling.”

“Uh, wow,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sounds awesome.”

“I hope it will be,” she said, keeping her voice casual. “I’m doing the guy’s hips right now—his ass actually. I have the perfect model.”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded a little off and it made Rori smile.

“Yeah. I kind of want to do the rest of his body, but for this piece I’m only going to be showing the paired hips. Everything else is just a distraction from the theme.”

“You don’t think they should connect in other ways, too? Like the eyes?”

“Not in this piece,” she said quickly. “Other pieces cover other types of connection, but this one is just about the most fundamental connection of them all. The one that creates life without regard to any other connection.”

“Uh, yeah. So how does that work? You have two models there holding that position? That seems a little impossible.”

“No, just the guy for right now. I haven’t decided on the female model. I might use myself.”

He choked on that one. She could tell even though he didn’t say a word. She smiled in the silence, careful not to make a sound.

“How would you do that—sculpt yourself like that, I mean?”

“A mirror,” she said easily. “That way I could see from any angle and not be shy about feeling around, as well, to make sure I had the angles and contours right.”

She could have sworn she heard him cover the phone with his hand. Regardless, his side of the line went very silent for a brief moment before he said, “Makes sense, I guess. It would be kind of awkward to get that close and personal with another girl.”

“Oh, not that weird,” she said, biting her lip against a smile as she felt his reaction through the phone. “Just more convenient in this case. I mostly get to work in off hours. It would be hard to arrange consistent times that both a male and female model could meet late at night.”

“So you’re staring at a naked dude right now and molding his ass out of clay while you’re talking to me?”

No. “Basically,” she lied.

“And that isn’t weird to you?”

“Why would it be?”

He let out a short laugh. “Like if I were sitting here with a naked woman, taking pictures of her while I was talking to you?”

“Well, pardon me for multi-tasking,” Rori said, even as the sick flavor of jealousy filled her mouth. Had he ever taken nude photos? Did he currently? She should ask.

“Uh, you owe me a secret, by the way,” Rori said lightly. “Deep, dark, and damning.”

“While you’re in the same room as a naked man? No thanks.”

“I exaggerated a little,” she confessed. “He’s not here right now. I’m just working with pictures.” Mental pictures, that is. “I was just trying to be scandalous.”

“So it’s just you there?”

“Me and a big wad of clay that looks like an ass,” she said, smiling for some reason she didn’t quite understand.

“And you just want me to toss out a deep, dark secret?”

“Yep.”

“Just like that? No segue, no nothing?”

“Quid pro quo, tit for tat, and all that.”

“Wow. You’re awfully perky for someone who is asking me for blackmail material.”

“And it had better be good, too,” she countered. “I didn’t hold back with you. That’s some grade-A dirt you have on me. I can count on one hand how many people I’ve told that tidbit to, so you’d better dig deep, Cannon. I want something messy.”

“Yeah?” he teased. “And if it’s not messy enough?”

“Then I do have this issue of not being completely content with my current model. Maybe you could trade a deep, dark secret for a 360 of images of your hips that I will sculpt into a centerpiece that would scandalize your mother, should she ever see it. I might consider that a trade.”

She’d said it. Maybe just in jest, but she’d actually asked him for naked pictures. It felt so wanton, so reckless, so… necessary. Rori bit her bottom lip to resist against saying anything else out of pure nervousness until he answered.

“You’re right. My mother would definitely be scandalized by that. She made me promise not to get naked in front of any cameras when I moved to L.A.”

“I see,” Rori teased. “And do you always do what your mother says?”

He hesitated, and she felt the levity in him even before he uttered the word, “No.”

“Oh?” she said carefully. “Are we going with truth then, and not dare?”

Again, he was silent for a few moments. “I would prefer we did neither.”

“Yeah? Well, now you totally have my full attention.”

He laughed lightly. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I.”

“So, tell me, Mike. What dark deed did you do that you don’t want your mother knowing about?” She kept her voice light, not sure whether she would regret it later or not. He certainly seemed serious, but at the same time Rori couldn’t imagine he could say anything that would shock her or make her think any differently about him. “Leap of faith time, Cannon. I can tell you from personal experience that you’ll feel better after you share. I did.”

“You did?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I mean it,” he pressed. “I’m serious here, Rori.”

She sobered quickly. “I am too, Mike.” She let that sink in. “I really thought you’d think less of me after I told you that. In fact, that’s why I told you. I was trying to prove to myself that you were fair weather and just trying to get into my pants—that if I started making myself more three dimensional you would split. But guess what? You didn’t. You’re the first guy I ever told that story to. It was hard and messy and I bawled myself to sleep that night, but I do feel better. So I’m happy to return the favor if you’ve got something burning on your conscience.”

His silence was all the answer she needed. Yes, Mr. Perfect had a secret. One he was ashamed of.

“No one knows this,” he said. “Not even Luke.”

Rori’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

Silence.

Rori’s heart was racing. Why, though? This wasn’t her secret. There was no reason to be nervous, and yet her heart was pounding and she could feel her palms growing a little sweaty. It was like Mike’s nervousness was transferring to her.

“After I finished school, I was ready to jump into the industry,” he said carefully. “I had all these scripts and shorts I thought had potential, but no one wants to invest in a director who hasn’t proven himself. I was fine to do projects with no budget, and even had actors that would volunteer time in exchange for adding scenes to their reel, but the real issue came in with getting a production team. They all wanted to get paid, which makes sense. I get it. But the point was that every time I tried to get someone on my projects, they simply responded by inviting me onto theirs. And after so many weeks of striking out, I started going for the paycheck rather than the vision.”

“That’s understandable,” Rori said.

“For several months that worked out. I wasn’t directing, but I was making great connections as I worked on set with other directors, and occasionally even scored a second unit director position to pad my resume.”

“Makes sense,” she said when he paused. “Connections are very important in your industry.”

“Yeah, well so is experience,” he said, his voice sounding oddly bitter. “It’s also kind of a given in my industry that you cut your teeth on projects that are very forgiving of mistakes while still turning a profit.”

She connected the dots a step ahead of him thanks to Luke. “Ah, yes. Porn.”

She could have sworn she felt him nod in the silence. “Pick any director that’s respected in Hollywood and you can pretty much guarantee he has a porn reel—maybe under another name, but he has one and it was there he met producers and others he works with to this day.”

“So I hear.”

“But I’d promised my mom I wouldn’t stick my toe in that field. Not only because I didn’t want something like that on my resume, but because I had arrogantly believed that I was so good that I could skip that step based on my own merits. Producers would just see my brilliance, I’d thought, and at least one of them would snatch me up without me having to prove how well I could frame a threesome.”

He stalled again, even though the end of the story was obvious. “So what happened?”

“The magical six-month grace period for student loans passed,” he said. “All of a sudden I owed payments of $1,500 a month when I was barely making enough to pay rent on the apartment I shared with two other guys. I was going to default on my first payment, and I had no prospects on the horizon. And when people found out, they were more than happy to point me at a fast cash-making opportunity. Five grand for five days of work, making five different ‘scripts,’ if you can call them that. It was enough to make rent, cover my payment, and give me a bit of carryover into the next month.”

He became silent again, and even though Rori couldn’t see him, she was fairly sure she understood what he was feeling.

“Just say it, Mike,” she said gently. “You’ll feel better. Promise.”

“You’ve already guessed it.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same as you saying it. Me guessing creates a whole lot of room for me believing things you may or may not have done. You want to let it go? Say it. The secret is safe with me.”

Another moment of silence. “Yes, I took the job. And I completed it. And I’m not going to lie and not confess that at first I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. All these women walking around naked, anxiously doing anything I directed them to? I could barely walk most of that first day no matter how many times I visited the men’s room. I was surrounded by beautiful women with perfect bodies who did things on a regular basis that I hadn’t even really dared to imagine. I got to put cameras where they didn’t belong and capture the taboo.”

“Sounds like guy heaven to me,” Rori said, again keeping her voice neutral.

“And that’s the point, right? Guy heaven, with the girls just being props. I didn’t get it until I was directing it and one of my buds stepped in to fix something that I was doing wrong.”

“Which was?”

He swallowed nervously on the other side of the line. “You’ve got to understand that porn wasn’t a huge part of my life up until this. Sure, like any guy I’d seen magazines and even a few videos, but all really light weight. Mostly Hollywood, actually. It’s just how things were with my friend base. A guy is less likely to buy porn when he has a mom who puts his laundry away for him and changes his sheets. There just weren’t that many places to hide anything dirty, so I just never had it.”

Was he apologizing? Rori couldn’t tell, but made a noise to encourage him to continue.

“Point being, my idea of how sex scenes should go were mostly based on Hollywood, where scenes are directed to appeal to both men and women. That is generally referred to as erotica—two consenting adults enjoying each other. And that’s how I was framing everything up when I started this gig, which made me a little off message while directing for an exclusively male audience.”

“How so?”

“Porn isn’t erotica,” he said flatly. “It’s about domination. Subjugation. It’s about portraying a woman with no will, no mind, and no wants outside of pleasing a man. Whatever pleases the guy pleases her. And the more taboo, the more intense her alleged pleasure. No foreplay. No reciprocation. The more forcible the man, the more orgasmic the woman. That’s porn.”

“I see.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But I’ll tell you what I saw. Once I got past the euphoria of all the naked bodies around me, I realized something. The women I was filming had no respect for me. In fact, some of them resented me. When I wasn’t around they were joking about me—mocking me and what I had directed them to do and how I was weak sauce and how I had to raise my game if anyone was going to buy the shit we were making. Then they started joking about all the things they thought should be done to me, and who could blow me first.”

“And… you didn’t think that was hot?” she ventured.

“Are you kidding?” he all but gasped. “I mean some parts of porn will always turn a guy on, but by day two I had learned firsthand that there is something very soulless about porn. Everyone’s desensitized and thinking about performing and looking good and what their next gig is. Some of the actors were lifers, but some were still trying to break into something mainstream. The only thing they had in common was that none of them had any respect for anyone else in the room. I was surrounded by women who would sleep with me for any reason except the usual ones. I know I’m explaining this very well, but it was messed up, Rori. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the words, but all I can say is that anytime I thought about my mom seeing what I’d filmed I felt physically ill. She’d be shocked. Worse, she might cry. By the time day five came around, I barely made it across the finish line. I got the shots, all first takes, and called it a wrap. I can honestly say that I’d never felt so ashamed. I think I’ll die without ever feeling that ashamed again. I’d filmed five films to be added to library of porn out there, and I couldn’t take it back.”

“Wow,” Rori breathed. This was not what she had been expecting from Mr. Perfect. Not even close. Deep and dark? Check. Blackmail material? Most definitely.

“A few days later when Luke called me and asked me to move into his place, I didn’t even think. I just left. I didn’t have a plan at the time, but I just knew that I didn’t have what it took to make it Hollywood—at least not in the traditional sense. So I closed up shop and headed back home. Then, when people asked about what I’d done in Hollywood, I talked about the legitimate stuff. No one asked about the other, so I never volunteered.”

“Understandable,” she said, not sure what else to say.

“Rori?”

“Yeah.”

“This is legitimate blackmail material here. I really need you not to be the one to tell anyone close to me about this. If they ever find out, it needs to be from me.”

“Of course!” she said quickly. “Telling never crossed my mind.”

“Good. Oh, and by the way you lied.”

That had Rori blinking in confusion. “I did?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel better. I feel like total shit. Way worse than before I told you about it.”

“Because you’re a guy who did a bad thing that you can’t undo?” she asked.

“Basically.”

“And if I said I think you’re a rare and goodhearted man?” she offered.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “Don’t overdo it.”

“A guy who is horrified by porn and its dehumanization of women? Uh, trust me, Mike, there aren’t many men who fall in that category. And even if there are, they’re still happy enough to take a look if they have a chance. I mean, I have to say that I find it a little hard to believe that you didn’t sleep with any of the women on the set. Are you sure you didn’t fudge that part just a little?”

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “I promised myself that long before that gig. No casting couch. No scandals. I might have worn out over time if I’d stayed, but I still had my values then.”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “And it sounds like you kept them.”

“Some of them,” he corrected. “But no. I didn’t have sex with anyone on set, so at least I don’t have that hanging over my head.”

Rori processed that, not sure what she was feeling. Yes, she was a little disappointed in him. He was no longer Mr. Perfect, but in a weird way he almost seemed like something a little better. He was a guy who was desperately trying to hold on to his soul. A guy who loved his mom and wanted to make her proud. A man who cared how the woman in his arms felt and why she was there.

God, that was hot.

“Mike?”

Deep breath. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us is.”

She laughed lightly. “Although I totally agree that your mom should never know. Neither should Luke or anyone else in your family. There’s nothing to be gained from it, so I want you to stop beating yourself up for not telling them.”

“And be glad I told you?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the logic there?”

“Because,” Rori said gently. “Someone who does need to know this about you will be your wife. Because I can promise you that she’ll find out somewhere along the line, and it had better be from you. And I’m here to tell you, as a woman, that I’d rather marry a man who once filmed a few pornographic movies and walked away from the industry disgusted and ashamed than marry a man who disappears into the basement to get off on porn when he has a few minutes. And for the record, I’m not nearly so optimistic as to imagine that will be case. I think you’re a rarity among men, and I hope when you tell your wife about this that she sees and understands that. Sometimes it’s not all about what we’ve done, but how it shapes us.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Not really,” she said. “This is just the truth. The way I see it, you went against your judgment, did something you swore you wouldn’t, were absolutely disgusted by the results, and have never repeated them or put yourself in the position to repeat them. How is that not admirable, Mike?”

“Uh, I could list a few ways,” he muttered.

“Still,” she added. “I’m glad you told me. It was a good trial run for the next person you’ll need to tell.”

“I guess.”

She could tell he still felt horrible. That much was obvious, and it was hardly what he deserved after how well he’d handled her little confession.

“Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“If you rewind to the beginning of this conversation, I think you’ll find that it started with me telling you that I’m in the middle of sculpting a pair of hips at the moment of ejaculation.”

“True,” he said with some hesitance.

“That being said,” she added. “If I’m taking an innocent block of clay and shaping it into sex, I’m hardly going to judge you for aiming a camera at two bodies having sex. Maybe some other girl will, I don’t know. I don’t speak for all womankind, but what I can say on behalf of myself is that what I get from your story is that once upon five days of your life, you were the worst version of yourself and it made you so sick that you promised never to become like that again, no matter what. I’m not sure how you’ve got it in your mind that somehow those five days make you a horrible, horrible person, but I can tell you that I’m over it. We’ve all made poor choices like that on some level. Maybe the mistakes other people make aren’t for sale on adult-only websites, but I can promise you that there are mistakes that are much, much worse. You could have, for example, pretended to be in love with a girl, said every pretty word possible to get yourself laid, been irresponsible with protection even though you knew she wasn’t on birth control, only to hand her the number of an abortion doctor and banish her forever when she tells you she’s pregnant.”

A calming breath was his only reply.

“Let’s see,” she mused. “As a woman, which guy would I rather be with? The guy who filmed some people having sex once upon a time, or the guy who gets girls pregnant and then urges them to have abortions. Gosh. That’s a stumper.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure most women would choose none of the above.”

“Right,” she drawled. “Because they’re holding out for Mr. Perfect. That guy who’s never made a mistake in his life and lives to sweep her—and only her—off her feet. Well, news flash, Mike. Those guys are a whole other ball of psychotic wax. Even if you throw them into the pot, I’d still choose you.”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, and she could hear a smile in his voice. “I get it, okay? You’ve officially made me feel a little better.”

“Just a little?”

“Okay, a lot.”

“Good,” she said, pleased. “Because you’re a good guy, Mike. Don’t let anyone make you forget that.”

“I’ll try.”

Rori smiled, and nearly tacked on three more words before she stopped herself. I love you. They weren’t casual words for Rori. It wasn’t like they threw those words around in her family, nor were those words tossed around among her friends. It had been years since she said them, and yet they’d almost slipped out as casually as good night or thank you.

“I, uh, should go,” she said instead, hoping her panic did come through in her voice. “I really do need to get this sculpture as far as I can tonight and I do need two hands for that.”

“I’ll bet,” he chuckled. “I look forward to seeing it at your exhibit.”

“I bet you do,” she said.

“And Rori? I’m glad we traded secrets. They may not be pretty, but it’s better to know that about you so I don’t accidentally do or say things that hurt you, you know?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And Mike? I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? You know, in case you go into one of those estrogen tailspins.”

He let out a full laugh this time. “Sounds good,” he said, and they said their goodbyes for the night.