Chapter Text
Every year, during five days, New York City was taken over by people from the fashion industry. Editors. Models. Designers. Wannabes. Everyone paraded around the city in fancy attire. Running from show to presentations and cocktails parties for fashion week.
Claire Beauchamp had been a model for four years. She knew fashion week season. Its castings, its crazy schedule and its extravagant parties like the back of her hand. Scouted during a shopping day in Carnaby Street at the age of twenty, she started a little career in London until her reputation exploded one year ago, after getting hired for a St. Laurent campaign. Since then, she became “the girl” – seen walking at every show and gracing every major magazine cover.
When all the other girls had straight hair. She had crazy curls. When all the other girls had blue eyes. She had the most enchanting ones made of glazed honey and touch of gold. The other girls looked all the same. Claire had a unique beauty. A face something between a classical renaissance beauty from Botticelli and a contemporary one by John Currin.
It was the last day of NYFW. Shows were over and everyone was already taking off to London. Claire was already exhausted but she had a shoot booked with Vogue before she could fly to the city. It wasn’t the kind of job to cancel to take naps, instead.
Milk Studio was ten minutes away from her apartment, yet, she somehow managed to waste time petting the bodega cat while getting her coffee. And now, she was late.
“Ye’re late,” Came from a Scottish voice the second she stepped foot in the studio.
Claire turned around and saw him. Tall – very tall. Hair the colour of fire and eyes as blue as the sea. He was the kind of man women looked twice when they passed him in the street.
“I am sorry,” She said sincerely, taking off her jacket.
“I could tell you lies about traffic but I was actually smitten by the bodega cat and spent way too long talking to it. That’s why I’m late,” Her confession made the stern expression on his face disappear and turning into an amused smiled.
“Aye, weel, I’m glad you’re honest abou’ it at least,” Grinning, he crossed his arms and leaned against a table. “It’s only been fifteen minutes, I think I can forgive ye – ”
“Are you one of the models?” Claire grinned, watching him. She had an odd urge to take the piss out of him, “I didn’t know this was a group thing.”
“Och no, I’m James Fraser,” He walked over to her. She remarked he carried himself with insurance, trying to hide some shyness. It was sweet.
“The photographer,” He pointed to the cameras on the table.
“Nice to meet you, Jamie,” Claire held out her hand for him to shake but he instead brought it to his lips and place a kiss on it.
“I see Scots have manners,” Her mouth curled up into a smirk. She hoped her cheeks weren’t turning too crimson.
“Aye, we do, Sassenach,” Jamie winked. Or tried to. It was an odd blinking of both eyes at the same time as if he had wanted to sneeze. She had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh at how cute that was.
“I’m Claire –”
“Beauchamp,” He finished before she could.
“Aye, I’ve never had the pleasure of photographing ye but ye’re the face to ken aroun’ here.”
Claire looked at him amused, “Good to know. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll go get ready so we can start.”
“Do that, I’ll be waitin’ for ye,” Jamie smiled and watched her as she went and said hello to everyone on set. He was used to working with models but there was something different about Claire Beauchamp. He didn’t know what exactly but he wasn’t surprised she was so successful in the field. She was magnetic. Everyone seemed to stop to look at her whichever room she walked in.
Claire appeared twenty minutes later, makeup done and dressed with the first look. Her hair was down, unruly curls free to frame her face perfectly and the makeup was minimal – pink cheeks and glowy skin.
Jamie watched her, forgetting his task for a second, “Ye look verra bonny, Claire.”
“You can thank Yves Saint Laurent for that,” Claire grinned, turning to display the outfit. It was an iconic tuxedo from the 70s. Jacket low cut and closed in the front, without anything under it. Jamie could see the curve of her breast but quickly looked away. She had wide legged matching trousers and a pair of converse, giving the entire look a modern and relaxed edge.
“This suit is an actual dream. No wonder it was a scandal when it first appeared.”
Jamie nodded and smiled, wanting to say she was the actual dream, “Aye, a dream. I think the outfit and the picture by Helmut Newton were a good combo for it to be a scandal,” He remarked, going to the table to grab a camera.
“I love that picture,” She smiled, watching him. “So powerful. Do you like Helmut Newton?”
“Aye, verra much,” Jamie examined his cameras before picking up one and looking at Claire, “A pioneer in the field.”
“Right,” Claire smirked, “So? What would you like me to do? Just stand before the background?”
“Eh yes, I trust ye ken how to pose aye?” Jamie raised his eyebrows with a smile.
“I should be alright there, thank you,” Claire grinning, walking on her mark as Fergus, the photography assistant, turned on the playlist.
“I’ll do some digital tests before we can start shooting with the film camera,” Jamie announced, taking the camera off Fergus’ hands, “Just do yer thing, aye? Good models don’t need instructions.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Claire flirtatious tone wasn’t lost on him and he prayed he would be able to finish the shoot, even if it hadn’t started yet.
“I like yer look, it’s different than all the models we see aroun’ these days,” He remarked with a smile. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“Don’t you like a Brazilian bombshell tanned with straight hair?” Claire couldn’t help but chuckle. “They’re beautiful!”
“Of course they are but it dinna mean they arena borin’. They all look the same, ‘tis get old quite quickly,” Jamie smirked and took a picture of her.
“Okay, so you’re the kind of photographer that takes pictures without warning,” Claire chuckle, “Noted,” She started to move to the music.
It was natural with her. She moved effortlessly and Jamie took picture after picture, without saying a word. Stopping briefly for some hair or makeup touch-ups by Louise or some clothing rearranging by the fashion editor, every few minutes.
If Jamie had learnt anything during his few years in art school, it was that to take a good photograph, it was essential to fall in love with the person on the other side of the lens. It happened every time he took a portrait but it disappeared as soon as the picture had been taken. Right now, Jamie was falling for Claire. Rapidly. Without warning. Like he never had before. And it wasn’t going anywhere.
Look after look, Claire was a professional who knew how to do her job and who looked absolutely perfect while doing it. It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes for each look to be photographed and wrapped. From Gucci to Erdem and even some vintage Chanel, she looked good in everything.
In all his years as a photographer, it was the first time a shoot was going so smoothly.
“Alright, last one sassenach,” Jamie announced happily while handing Fergus the finished roll of film from his camera, “I canna believe this will no’ take the entire day.”
“I like workin’ with ye,” He smiled, changing camera.
Claire walked towards the changing room and turned her head to look at him, grinning, “We work well together, Fraser.”
Click.
Quickly, Jamie snapped a picture with his point and shoot.
“Aye, we do,” he agreed, watching her disappear behind the door.
He was used to seeing models in all sorts of outfits. From the most bizarre couture gown to the tiniest pair of underwear, and even sometimes, naked. But to him, he was photographing women, not some sort of hanger displaying clothes. Beautiful women, for sure. Yet, he always approached it as painters did. There was nothing sexual about the process. Never had been.
Until now.
Claire reappeared quickly in a sheer lace Simone Rocha gown and black panties.
Jamie watched her and dropped his roll of film clumsily before picking it up, the tip of his ears turning bright red.
“I don’t know about you but I need a cheeseburger after this shoot,” Claire said with a grin, sitting on a stool. “Care to join me?”
“I will never say no’ to a wee burger date wi’ ye, sassenach,” Jamie grinned. He leaned over his Rolleicord camera, looking at her through the viewfinder.
“No one said it was a date, lad,” Claire leaned her head in her palms and looked right into the lens, her whisky eyes piercing through Jamie like a delightful dagger.
Click.
Claire laughed, “You need to stop taking pictures of me when I’m not ready!”
Click.
“They are the best kind,” Jamie smiled, “Even if I canna show them to ye just now because they’re on film, I ken they’re perfect.”
“I hope you ken well but I want a picture with you,” She insisted.
“Sassenach, I became a photographer so I could avoid being in front of the camera,” He laughed, continuing to take pictures.
“Oh, come on!” She pouted, “Just one and Fergus could take it!”
Grinning, Fergus stepped in and took the Polaroid camera, “Bien sûr!”
“See, Fergus is an angel,” Claire got up and put the stool away, “Now, come to me, Fraser.”
Jamie chuckled, muttering a silent prayer in Gaelic and trying to forget the fact her boobs were on display. She seemed not to be the least bothered about that fact. He went and stood next to her, crossing his arms.
Looking at him, Claire couldn’t help but chuckle, “Are you for real? You do seem very stiff, Jamie.”
“I’m no’ model, Sassenach,” He remarked, eyebrow raised, “I dinna ken how to pose so if ye have a better idea, I’m listenin’.”
Fergus positioned the camera in front of his eyes and smiled widely, “Ready when you are!”
Claire didn’t need to hear more to jump on Jamie’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist and biting his ear.
Jamie took immediately hold of her and laughed, one of those earthy laughs that comes from the pit of your stomach and go right by the heart to make it grow with delight.
Click.
“Parfait!” Fergus stated with a grin, taking the Polaroid out of the camera.
“While it appears I’ll go change and then we can have our burgers,” Claire smiled and went to get changed quickly.
“What happened to the ‘I don’t go out with models’ rule?” Fergus asked softly, looking at his boss with a sneaky smile and a raised eyebrow.
“I’m not going out wi’ her, we’re just going to get a bite to eat,” Jamie explained, putting the material away.
“I see…Well, I believe you are a little bit amoureux, boss,” Fergus said nonchalantly, collecting the rolls of films.
Jamie blinked, looking at him. He had no time to answer as Claire came back. Dressed in her Levi’s 501 and a white t-shirt, bare-faced and curls up into a messy bun.
Putting on her leather jacket, she smiled, “Are we good to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish here,” Fergus answered before Jamie could, “Nice meeting you, Claire. Hope you’ll like the pictures.”
“Nice meeting you too,” Claire smiled and hugged him quickly, “I’m sure I will!”
Jamie put on his jacket and took his backpack, “Thank ye, Fergus, dinna forget to bring those films to the lab, aye?”
“Did I ever?” Fergus asked with a grin, knowing perfectly well the answer to his question.
Jamie patted his arm and grinned, walking out of the studio with Claire, “See ye, Claudel!”
“Must I ask?” Claire looked at Jamie with a smirk.
“That’s his real name, ye ken,” Jamie explained, “Fergus is just his artist nickname, to be cooler. I like to tease him about it.’”
“Ah, I see,” The model smirked, following him outside of the studio.
******
“Whoever decided to smash a piece of meat between two buns is an actual genius,” Claire said after taking a bite of her burger.
“I dinna wanna start the model who doesna eat cliché but I truly have never seen one eatin’ somethin other than a salad,” Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle as he ate some fries.
“Oh, I know,” Claire shook her head, “I see what the other girls eat during shows or shoots. But I can’t function on two almonds and a granola bar.”
“Do ye work out, then?” Jamie watched her. She was tall and slender. He had seen her body. It wasn’t the sickly skinny kind he saw on some other models. It was toned and curvy. He quickly removed any thought of her arse from his mind and focused on his milkshake.
“I do yoga. Occasionally,” She grinned, eating, “I’m really lucky in the metabolism department and I’m always walking – or more running, somewhere.”
“Aye, if ye always spend yer time pettin’ the bodega cat, I bet ye have to run not to be too late,” He teased her, smiling.
Claire laughed, “Exactly! It’s not my fault Gerard is so damn cute –”
“Gerard?” He looked at her, bursting into a laugh, “The cat is actually named Gerard?”
“Yes, I didn’t choose that name though,” She smirked, stealing one of his fries.
Jamie saw it but didn’t say anything and instead smile, “Do ye live in New York then?”
Nodding, Claire smiled, “Yeah, I have been living for two years now. I lived in London before that, for two years as well. Even before that, I was all over the place with my uncle. He’s an archaeologist and I lived with him since I was five.”
“Is he? ‘Tis must be a fascinating job,” His eyes were attracted to hers as if they were magnets. He didn’t try to fight it. Something about Claire Beauchamp made him lose all common sense. He felt as if he had known her forever even if he barely knew any details about her or her life.
“Oh, he is,” Claire smiled fondly, “Uncle Lamb is quite the character.”
“Do ye have siblings?” He leaned back, watching her.
“No, I’m an only child…My parents had an accident when I was small and that’s why I lived with my uncle since then. He never married nor had kids on his own. It’s always been just me and Lamb,” She smiled. Jamie couldn’t help but feel a ping at his heart hearing her story. There was more to Claire than just meet the eye.
“I’m sorry,” He said sincerely, touching her wrist.
“Thank you,” She smiled, resting her hand on his, “But don’t worry, I’m used by now and I had a great upbringing. Very fun and full of amazing trips.”
“Sounds like it,” He smiled, finishing his drink.
“And do you live in New York?” Claire asked, resting her head in her palm.
“London, I just came up here for a week for the shoot and another one I have in a few days. I’m goin’ back sometime next week actually if nothing comes up in the meantime.”
“You are obviously from Scotland,” She smiled, “The accent and all. Very thick.”
Jamie chuckled, “I canna fault ye there, Sassenach. I’ve been livin’ in London for five years and it seemed that my accent just got thicker for some reason. When ‘tis supposed to be the other way ‘round.”
“Yeah, usually it is,” She smirked, “I know I’ve lost a bit of my own accent since living in New York.”
“Ye mean yer accent was even posher than ‘tis now?” His eyebrow raised and his mouth curled up into a smile.
“Wot? It’s never been posh!”
“It sounds posh to me…Verra sophisticated beyond measure, Sassenach.”
“Well, thank you, I guess?” She smirked, “Also why do you keep calling me Sassenach?”
“‘Tis just means Englishwoman or outlander, nothin’ bad,” He crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair. “Just a wee term of endearment.”
“Do you have wee terms for all the models you’ve worked with?” She finished the last bite of her burger, looking at him.
“Nay,” He smiled, “Just for ye.”
“Flattered,” She leaned forward, her eyes locked with his, “Jamie…”
“Aye?” He swallowed, a cold rush creeping up his neck.
“Are you going to finish those?” She looked down and pointed to his fries.
“No,” He smirked, “Ye can have them, Sassenach.”
Smirking, she grabbed his fries and leaned back to eat.
******
They walked towards Claire’s apartment in Greenwich Village. Both keeping a reasonable distance between their bodies. The silence between them was in no way awkward. It was a comfortable one, shared by two people who seemed to have known one another for years.
“Do ye live alone?” Jamie finally spoke. He knew they weren’t far from her place. She had said that much a few minutes ago.
Claire nodded, smiling, “I used to have a roommate when I lived in Brooklyn in the beginning because it was cheaper and I didn’t make much money. But she went back to Europe a few months ago so I moved to Manhattan in a loft.”
“I found New York to be too overwhelmin’,” He said sincerely, “In London, ‘tis still big but ye have places where tourists and the madness are avoidable. Here ‘tis seems impossible.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” She smiled, “But I know I won’t live in New York forever. I mean, I love my job but it’s not a long term thing, let’s be honest.”
“Och, well –”
“Right now everyone wants me, next season it’ll be another girl and it’s fine,” She smiled, looking in her bag either for her keys or her phone.
“Well, ye’ve been aroun’ for more than one season, Sassenach,” He remarked. It might have been the first time they worked together, he knew she was indeed everywhere.
“Yes but it’s not going to last,” She grinned, looking at him, “I’m just being realistic and enjoying the moment while it lasts.”
“What would ye be doin’ if ye were no’ a model?”
Claire thought for a second, narrowing her eyes at no one in particular, “I’d work in publishing. That would be a great job since I read a lot,” She smiled.
“Don’t be fooled, I’m a real nerd and I’m always in a corner reading a book with my glasses on whenever I’m backstages or even during shoots. Except when the photographer is as entertaining as you,” She nudged his side as they were walking.
Jamie didn’t know why but it was the first time he was in New York and everything around him seemed quiet. As if the city had been removed from its inhabitants. He was aware of the things going on around them but it seemed they were the only two people in the world, just now.
“A wee nerd,” He smirked, watching her, “That makes two of us. Except I’m a shy one.”
“Well, you’re an artist –” She looked at him, smiling.
“I’m no’” He shrugged smiling, “I just take pictures.”
“Who are you trying to convince here? You or me? Because I’m sure it’s not true, I’ve only heard great things about you and your work.”
“Well, thank ye,” He said sincerely, smiling.
Claire stopped in front of a metallic door and looked at him, “Well we’ve arrived.”
He stopped, then, and looked at her, “Weel then, we’ve arrived, Sassenach.”
“Oh,” She removed the scarf he had given her and handed it to him, “Thank you for that.”
“No problem,” He took it and put it around his neck. It now smelled of Claire, a mixture of patchouli and vanilla, and Jamie was transfixed. “Thank ye for yer work today, I hope ye’ll like the pictures.”
“I can’t wait to see them,” She smiled, looking at into his eyes. She was bewitching him and he let her do it. Willingly surrendering to her power. He leaned slowly as Claire leaned up towards him.
Jamie wanted to kiss her. Badly. His lips were burning, tingling with a need to crush against hers. He hesitated for a brief instant, feeling his heart squeeze, almost breaking when he pulled back at the last second. He panicked and noted her slight shift of expression.
“Goodbye, Claire,” He blurted, biting his lower lip.
“Goodbye, Jamie,” She smiled, then, almost amused, and biting her lower lip, “Nice meeting you.”
“Aye,” He ran his fingers through his copper curls, thanking God it was dark and she couldn’t see his crimson cheeks, “Ye too, Sassenach.”
Claire gave him a last smile and he watched her disappeared behind the door, his heart heavy and full of regrets. Jamie knew he wasn’t going to see her again. Not unless the universe was on his side and it would put Claire Beauchamp on his path again.
He could only pray.