Chapter 2: Wax on, Wax Off
Three Months Later……..
Jo set her sponge and palette down with an exhausted sigh and climbed off her stool, wincing at the ache in her shoulder blades and back from the past several hours of work. She stretched like a cat, then popped a few vertebrae before turning to survey her work. Rubbing her neck, she smiled softly at the expression on the life like bust she had spent so many long hours creating….
Captain Jack Sparrow could never be mistaken for anything but male, even sans body as he was at that moment. His kohl rimmed mahogany eyes commanded attention, and were harmonized by the face's high cheekbones, straight Roman-inspired nose and healthy tanned complexion. The mouth, with its full bottom lip, the upper half hidden in his moustache, looked as if it was made to smile. If the bust could talk, she would have seen the glint of gold teeth in that wickedly witty mouth, as she had insisted on accuracy down to the smallest detail. The long, dark hair that she had spent hours inserting one strand at a time flowed down to the table top, ornamented with bright strands of glass and metal beads, coins and even pieces of bone. All in all, it was a remarkable likeness, and by far the best she had ever completed.
Smiling, Jo made a few last minute adjustments to his hair, then reached over to pick up the long, faded, pre-stressed red scarf beside her tools. Stepping up on a box beside the table for added height, she leaned forward to tie the scarf around the pirates forehead, wrapping her arms above and around him with his face pressed into her chest while she tightened and adjusted the headwear.
"mmmmmmmphh………lovely.."
Jo started and nearly fell off the box when the whispered comment came seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyes darted around in all directions, looking once again for the concealed speaker. It wasn't the first time in the past few months that she had heard that strange, disembodied voice while she was alone in the studio. She had been listening to opera while she worked on Captain Sparrow one evening when a low voice asked her to "Belay that caterwallin'". So she had complied, actually going so far as to purchase the Pirates soundtrack to inspire her work, not that she needed much of that. There had been occasional whispered comments about her hair style and clothing, usually uttered in the wee hours of the morning, that she had chalked up to too much work and too little sleep. And then there had been the time she could have sworn that she heard a murmur or two that sounded like "'at tickles" when she had been painstakingly been trimming and grooming the pirate captain's dashing mustache. She knew then that the prankster's must have installed a hidden camera somewhere. Jo had gone along with it, thinking the show crew had been having a bit of harmless fun at her expense. She had thought that they would eventually get tired of their antics, but apparently, they hadn't. Uttering a few choice oaths, she turned around in place, glaring up at the ceiling and addressing her unseen watchers. "That's it. I've had it with this bullshit! If you don't quit spying on me and making wiseass comments, you're going to find out the real meaning of "artistic temperment!".
"Problems, Jocelyn?"
Jo jumped and turned to see Michael Dixon, lead artist on the project, standing in the open doorway observing her with his usual smug smirk. Jo straightened and turned back to start cleaning and putting away her tools before answering cooly. "Just a prankster with a microphone, Michael, nothing I can't handle."
"If you're sure…." His voice trailed off as he sauntered over to her work table to stand in beside her, "Not bad…not bad at all."
Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her abundant cleavage displayed by her simple tank top, with a calculating look that sent chills down her spine. For some unknown reason, whenever he was near she felt like a rabbit that had been cornered by a rabid, slavering wolf. Slamming her tool drawer shut with much more force than necessary, she favored him with an icy glare. "Was there something you wanted, Michael? If not, I'm rather busy at the moment…"
Standing casually against her work table, Michael looking down at her from his superior height. "You know what I want, Josie," he said with a sigh, reaching out to run a finger down her bare arm, observing her through heavy lidded eyes. "You just haven't seen fit to give it to me yet." There was a tingling sensation, almost like a current of electricity in the air, and Jo could have sworn she heard that familiar voice mumble "keep your 'ands off the goods, ye arrogant bastard." Judging from Michael's lack of reaction, she was apparently the only one who heard the strangely accented comment, so she said nothing. Smiling with amusement when she jerked her arm away, he laced his fingers together and leaned back "Actually, I'm here to check on your progress and to share a bit of news. The powers that be have decided to move up the opening date for the exhibit, so you'd better get that sweet tush of yours in gear. I've finished Barbosa, and the Pearl exhibit will be opening to the public on Halloween Night." He turned and walked toward the door, turning back as he pulled it open. "Oh, and by the way, you've been designated as co-hostess for the opening gala, with yours truly, of course. I expect you to find something a little more" glancing at her simple skirt and cheap sandals with disdain "appropriate for the occasion. After all, this is Vegas…..no better place to show off what you've got or what you've bought. And don't be late." The door slammed behind him, and she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"My name's not Josie, dammit!….Freaking pervert." Jo cursed and threw down the small towel she had been using to dry her brushes with before covering her face with her hands for a long moment. It was just like Michael to get even with her for turning him down by putting her in an uncomfortable situation. Letting out a deep sigh, she slowly lowered her hands, sat back on her stool and focused her attention on the Captain once more. She adjusted his scarf and then picked up a long, dangling ear ornament. Leaning down, she quickly slid the French hook through the soft wax lobe and rolled her eyes when she heard a distinct hiss of pain. Letting out a heavy sigh, she sat back and glared at the bust and replied sarcastically. "Listen to you….a fearsome pirate, scourge of the Caribbean, whining about a little ear piercing." She shook her head and sat back to admire her work once more, and for some reason she wasn't surprised to hear the voice chuckling next to her. "Saucy minx." Closing her eyes, she shook her head and murmured to herself. "O.K, I think it's safe to say I've lost it…I'm having conversations with wax heads. Well, technically only one wax head and a cute one at that, but still, a wax head." She bit her lip and sighed, leaning back on the stool and wrapped her arms around her waist, smiling softly in her whimsical mood. "Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound I guess. I've got to confess.." She reached out to touch the handsome cheek. "I can't think of any wax figure I'd rather talk to than you, Jack Sparrow. By the way, I want to thank you for coming to my defense earlier, even if it was all just in my head." Rising, she picked up her purse from below the bench and was halfway to the studio door when she heard it once again.
"Anytime, luv, and it's captain, savvy?." Jo stopped in her tracks, looked over her shoulder, shook her head and turned out the light, but grinned anyway and tossed the last word back over her shoulder.
"'Nite, Jack."