Chapter 9: The Star's Suite
The airstair was still warm from the sun when they stepped onto it. Aiko felt the heat rise off the concrete in waves, felt the humidity settle on her skin like a second layer of oil. The terminal building loomed ahead, glass and steel, and between them and it lay a stretch of tarmac that suddenly felt very long.
Tessa walked beside her. Not ahead, not behind. Where Macau had been a city of naked women moving through a city of clothed strangers, where the stares had been glances, brief and catalogued and dismissed, here the stares lingered. A man in a high-vis vest stopped coiling a hose to watch them pass. Two women in business skirts paused mid-conversation, their heads turning in unison like birds on a wire.
Tessa did not slow. She did not speed up. She moved through the heat like she had built the terminal herself.
"Smile like you own the place," Tessa murmured.
"I own the place," Aiko said.
"Good."
The terminal doors slid open and the cold air hit them like a wall. Aiko's nipples tightened, and she felt the eyes on her again, felt the weight of them slide down her body and catch. She kept her chin up. The brass card sat heavy in her palm, warm from her grip, and she ran the edge of it along her thumb like a worry stone.
The security checkpoint had a single booth, a glass partition, a young woman in a uniform who looked up from her monitor and went very still.
"Good evening," Tessa said, sliding her card across the counter. "Diplomatic accreditation. Phoenix Corporation."
The guard picked up the card with two fingers, turned it over, examined the embossing. Her eyes flicked up to Tessa's face, down to her breasts, back to the card. She scanned it. The machine chirped.
"Enjoy your stay in Bangkok," the guard said, and her voice had the careful flatness of someone who had been trained not to comment.
They walked through. The terminal opened into a wide hall of polished stone and soft ambient music. The evening light poured through the glass ceiling in long golden bars. Aiko felt every step, the cool stone under her bare feet, the air moving across her skin. She had never felt more exposed, and she had never been more naked.
Tessa led her past a row of shops. A man in a suit looked up from an ice-cream stand and dropped his cone.
"Interesting," Aiko said.
"Bangkok's going to need a moment to adjust."
"Bangkok can take a moment. We have an hour."
At the east terminal, a black car idled at the curb, a slim woman in a tailored jacket holding the rear door. She did not look at them as they approached. She did not look at them as they slid into the leather interior. She did look at them in the rearview mirror, once, her eyes meeting Tessa's in the glass.
"Phoenix Grand," she said. It was not a question.
"Phoenix Grand," Tessa confirmed.
The car pulled away from the curb and joined the river of traffic. The city moved past the windows in a blur of color and heat. The air inside the car was cool and smelled of sandalwood. Aiko leaned her head back against the seat and let the tension bleed out of her shoulders.
Tessa's hand found her thigh. Warm, palm flat, thumb brushing the inside of her leg. Aiko opened her eyes and looked at her.
"You all right?" Tessa asked.
"I'm naked in a foreign city and I'm carrying a card that says I'm allowed to be." Aiko smiled. "I'm great."
The hotel rose from the skyline like a blade. Forty floors of glass and gold, the kind of building that made a statement before you ever entered it. The car pulled under a wide portico, and Aiko stepped out onto marble that had been polished to a mirror shine.
The lobby was enormous. Crystal chandeliers hung from a ceiling three stories high. A grand piano stood in one corner, unmanned. The front desk was a slab of white marble, and behind it stood a man in a slim black suit who looked at them and did not blink.
Tessa approached first. She set her card on the counter.
"Carol Conners," she said. "We're here to see her."
The man picked up the card, examined it, set it down. His face gave nothing away.
"Miss Conners is in the Delano suite," he said. "Penthouse floor. I'll call up."
Aiko felt the card in her palm again, warm and reassuring. The man spoke into a phone, listened, nodded. He replaced the receiver and gestured toward a bank of elevators at the far end of the lobby.
"Miss Conners is expecting you," he said.
They crossed the lobby. The elevator doors slid open. The car was lined with smoked glass and a brass handrail, and the ride up was silent except for the soft hum of the mechanism. Aiko watched the city fall away through the glass wall, watched it shrink to a grid of lights and shadows.
The doors opened onto a corridor of deep pile carpet and recessed lighting. The Delano suite door stood at the end, a slab of dark wood with a single brass plate.
Tessa knocked.
A voice came through the door, muffled but clear, rich and low. "It's open."
The door swung inward on silent hinges. Warm air rolled out, carrying the smell of sweat and clean skin, undercut by something floral.
The Delano suite opened before them like a cathedral of glass. Floor to ceiling windows dominated the far wall, the Bangkok skyline blazing below in a carpet of gold and red. The marble floors gleamed. The silk cushions on the cream sofas looked barely touched.
Carol Conners stood at the center of the room. Naked. Glowing.
She held a dumbbell in each hand, one at her shoulder, one raised overhead, mid lift. Sweat ran in rivulets down her chest, tracing the undercurves of her heavy breasts, following the hard line of her abdomen before disappearing between her thighs. Her skin was flushed from the workout, the sheen of it catching the window light. Her long black hair was tied back, damp strands escaping at the temples.
She did not stop when they entered.
Her blue eyes found them in the mirror. Held them. Her arms moved, smooth and controlled, the dumbbells descending and rising in a steady rhythm that spoke of an hour already spent.
Tessa closed the door behind them. Aiko stood very still, watching the way Carol's body moved, the corded strength in her shoulders, the deep breath she drew at the top of each rep.
"Carol Conners," Tessa said.
The dumbbells hit the floor with a soft thud. Carol straightened, wiped her forearm across her brow, and turned to face them. Her chest rose and fell, the sweat darkening the skin between her breasts.
"You're the investors," she said. Her voice was richer than it had been through the door, warmer too. "Veronica said you might stop by."
"We're not interrupting," Aiko said. It came out more question than statement.
Carol laughed. It was a low, easy sound. "I've been in at this for three hours. This is the first time I've breathed all day."
She walked toward them, bare feet padding over the marble. Up close, the sweat on her skin smelled like salt and something clean, and Aiko understood why the camera loved her. The woman moved like she had been built to be watched.
Carol stopped before them, looking them over openly. Her gaze traveled the length of Tessa's body, then Aiko's, unhurried, appreciative.
"You two are with Phoenix?" she asked.
"We're with Phoenix," Tessa said. "In a manner of speaking."
Carol's gaze swept them both again, slower this time. She let out a breath, and some tension Aiko hadn't noticed in her shoulders melted away.
"Thank god," she said. "Veronica told me you were nudists. Told me you'd come here naked. I believed her, but I've been burned before by people who show up in clothes and act like I'm the strange one for not bothering."
"We don't own clothes," Aiko said. "It's not a phase."
Carol laughed, and the sound filled the high-ceilinged room. She walked to a side table and lifted a tall glass of water, drinking deep. The movement drew Aiko's eye across the planes of her back, the play of muscle beneath sweat-damp skin.
"Then we're going to get along fine." Carol set the glass down. "Most people in this industry, they want the nudity on camera but they can't handle it in the dressing room. I've had directors flinch when I walk past craft services."
"People are strange," Tessa said.
"They are." Carol's blue eyes narrowed slightly. She studied Tessa's face, her jaw, the line of her nose. "Do I know you?"
Tessa tilted her head. "I don't think so."
"Wait." Carol stepped closer. Her bare feet whispered over the marble. "Tessa Webb. From Roosevelt High."
The name landed like a shot. Aiko watched Tessa's expression shift, a crack in the composed mask she wore for strangers.
"Carol Conners," Tessa said slowly. "Theater club. Junior year."
"You were a sophomore. You played the stage manager in Our Town." Carol grinned, bright and disbelieving. "You wore a grey cardigan and you never once looked at your script. I was so jealous of your memory."
"That play was a disaster. The chandelier fell."
"The chandelier fell and you kept reading your cues like nothing happened. Everyone in the audience thought it was part of the show." Carol shook her head. "I've told that story to three different directors in this industry. Nobody believes me."
"I didn't know you'd become a star," Tessa said.
Carol shook her head slowly, still taking her in. "I keep waiting for you to put a cardigan on. The grey one. It's like a ghost of junior year standing in my hotel room."
"It's been a long time since I wore anything," Tessa said.
"How does that happen?" Carol asked. "I mean that genuinely. You were the kid who wore long sleeves in summer. I remember you practically lived in that cardigan. You'd wrap your arms around yourself like you were holding everything in."
Tessa's grey eyes went distant. She was silent for a moment, looking out at the skyline. The city glowed gold and red, and the light caught the curve of her shoulder.
"It started with a bad move," she said. "My mother. She remarried when I was sixteen. Stepfather had a temper, and he liked to take it out on her. On me, if I got in the way."
Carol's face shifted. The easy warmth cooled into something still and listening.
"There came a night. I don't talk about the details. But I got out, and I landed in a shelter, but I took the wrong kind of attention. The kind that wants payment for charity." Tessa's voice was flat, stripped of emotion. "I ran again. Ended up on a coast I didn't know, with nothing. Some women found me. They took me in, and they gave me a choice. They told me I could carry the shame I was born with, or I could throw it off."
She touched a hand to her own sternum, pale skin over the steady rhythm of her heart.
"So I threw it off. Every last layer. And I found out the world doesn't end when you stop hiding. Nobody can hurt you with what you've already shown them."
She dropped her hand.
"I've been naked ever since," she said. "And I've never once missed the cardigan."
Carol held her gaze for a long moment. Her blue eyes were unreadable. Then she nodded, a slow, complete gesture.
"I believe you," she said. "And I'm glad you found that. Seems awful that wonder is the thing that made you shine, She held Tessa's gaze a moment longer, then flicked a glance at Aiko. "I owe you both an apology. I've been talking like you're guests, but you're not. You're colleagues."
"We're not with the show," Aiko said.
"No, you're like me. You've thrown it off." Carol walked to the window and looked down at the city. "That's rarer than you'd think."
Tessa moved to stand beside her. "How did you get here, Carol? You were the girl who had every line memorized and a costume ready for anything. The last person I'd expect to see naked on a screen."
Carol let out a breath. Her reflection in the glass was soft and golden. "I thought it was a stupid idea at first. Stripping Wonder Woman down for a prestige TV reboot. I figured it was a gimmick to get eyes on a dying franchise. Veronica pitched it to me herself, and I told her it was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard."
"But she convinced you."
"She sat me down in a room with a screen and she played me a scene from the first script. Dr. Tanaka's opening monologue about the body as the last honest weapon." Carol shook her head. "I read the whole pilot that night. I couldn't put it down. The next day I called her back and said I'd do it."
"And the nudity?" Aiko asked.
Carol turned from the window. "The first day on set was awful. The wardrobe break room was a circus. I stood there holding this tiny flesh-colored patch like it was a life raft. I couldn't stop thinking about the camera, about the lighting, about all the crew watching me step out of the costume."
She walked to a chair by the window and sat, one leg tucked under her. Her body moved easily, without self-consciousness.
"The scene was one long take. Veronica kept the crew small, and she made them all strip down with me. It sounds silly now, but it worked. The whole room was naked, the camera operator, the sound guy, the monitor tech. We were all in it together. After the first take I stopped thinking about it."
"What did it feel like?" Tessa asked.
"Uncomfortable at first. Then strange. Then strange in the good way." Carol looked down at her own thighs, her bare stomach, the sweat cooling on her skin. "The more time I spent like this, the more right it felt. Not just on set. In the hotel. At the gym. Everywhere. There was this voice in my head, the one that told me I needed armor to walk into a room. And it just kept getting quieter."
She smiled.
"After a few months I stopped fighting it. I just thought, what the hell. I'm a nudist now."
The words landed in the quiet room. Aiko felt them settle somewhere inside her, a recognition she couldn't quite name.
Tessa's grey eyes were warm. "And now you're Wonder Woman, minus the costume."
"Plus the costume," Carol said, grinning. "The costume is the whole point. She starts with it and she strips it off because that's the only way she can fight. It's not about being seen. It's about being ready."
She stood and stretched, her arms rising overhead. The light caught the length of her, the hard muscle and the soft curves. She held the pose for a moment, then let her arms fall.
Aiko stepped forward, her gaze tracing the hard lines of Carol's midsection, the defined ridges of muscle that caught the light with every breath.
"Those are incredible," Aiko said, gesturing at Carol's stomach. "Your abs. And your arms. I've never seen definition like that on a woman before."
Carol looked down at herself, then back up, pleased. "You like them? I work out a lot. If I'm going to be naked all the time, the best I can do is look good."
"You more than look good," Aiko said. "You look like you could lift a car."
Carol laughed and flexed her bicep playfully. "I've done three hundred reps today. This body is a full-time job."
She let her arm drop and studied Aiko with genuine appreciation. Her gaze traveled slowly, from Aiko's face down the length of her body, pausing at her breasts, then her hips, then the smooth stretch of her thighs.
"But I have to say," Carol said, "you've got a perfect figure. I mean really. Your curves are exactly where they should be, and your skin is so smooth. What do you use?"
Aiko felt heat rise in her cheeks, surprising her. "Nothing special. Just water and sunlight."
"No oil? No moisturizer?"
"We have a skin oil back home. But mostly it's genetics."
"Genetics." Carol shook her head, still looking. "That's not fair. I work for this body and you just wake up like that."
"The work shows," Aiko said. "Trust me. Any woman would kill to have your muscle tone."
Carol smiled, a slow genuine thing that reached her blue eyes. "I like you. Both of you, actually. Most women in this industry want to talk about the craft or the money. You two just showed up naked and told me I look good."
"The industry is overrated," Tessa said from by the window.
"It is," Carol agreed. "But the job has its perks." She stretched again, arching her back, letting her breasts lift with the motion. "I get to fight bad guys bare. I get to fly across the world and stay in suites like this.
She stopped, looked down at herself, and laughed. "God, I'm a mess. Sweating like a racehorse in here. I need to shower before I ruin the silk."
She turned and walked toward the far end of the suite, where an open archway led into a bathroom that seemed to have no walls at all. Aiko followed a few steps behind and stopped at the threshold.
The bathroom was a cathedral of its own. A vast slab of grey marble ran the length of the floor. The shower was an open niche against the far wall, no door, no curtain, just a rain head the size of a dinner plate suspended from the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city, and the last of the sunset painted the water streaming down the glass in shades of copper and rose.
Carol stepped into the niche and turned the water on. She stood under the spray with her face tilted up, her long black hair darkening as the water soaked it, plastering it to her shoulders and back. The stream caught the hard planes of her shoulders, ran down the deep valley between her breasts, streaked across her abs and down her thighs. She arched her back to rinse the back of her body, and the light caught every contour.
Aiko leaned against the archway. "That's not a shower. That's a performance."
Carol laughed, the sound bouncing off the marble. "It's the only way I know how to do anything." She turned to face them, water sluicing down her front, and swept the wet hair back from her forehead. "You two can come in, you know. The water's perfect."
Tessa moved past Aiko and stood at the edge of the niche, watching Carol with an unreadable expression. "You really don't have any shame, do you?"
"Not anymore." Carol ran her hands over her arms, working the water into her skin. "That's what this life does to you. The more time you spend naked, the less any of it matters. You'd think it would be the opposite. But it's not."
Tessa stepped closer, into the spray at the edge of the shower. The water dotted her shoulders. "That's what I tell people. Being a nudist tends to erase any bit of shame. Not because you stop caring. Because you realize there was never anything to be ashamed of."
Carol turned to face her, water streaming down her body. "Someone told you that? Or you figured it out yourself?"
"I figured it out the hard way."
The water ran between Carol's breasts, tracing a silver line down the hard ridge of her stomach. She took a step toward Tessa, close enough that the spray from her shower caught Tessa's skin.
"You know," Carol said, "when I first got this part, I thought the hardest thing would be the nudity. The cameras. The crew. My own reflection." She shook her head, water flicking from her hair. "But it wasn't. The hardest thing was realizing I'd have to walk through the world like this and let people see me without any armor. And then I found out that's the whole point. When you're not hiding anything, there's nothing to take from you."
Aiko watched Tessa's face. Something had shifted there, some wall coming down.
"You get it," Tessa said quietly. "Not many people do."
"I get it more than I'd like." Carol turned off the water, stepped out of the niche, and reached for a towel hanging from a brass rack. She pressed it to her face, then let it fall to her shoulders. Her skin was flushed, damp, impossibly smooth.
She looked at them both, a slow, speculative look. "So what's your real reason for coming here today? And don't tell me it's just to say hello to an old classmate."
Tessa exchanged a glance with Aiko. The question hung in the warm air.
"The premiere," Tessa said. "We hear Dr. Tanaka will be there."
Carol's eyebrows rose. "Tanaka. The consultant." She toweled her hair, thinking. "That woman's strange. Brilliant, but strange. I've worked with her for months and I still can't tell if she's a genius or a mad scientist."
Aiko stepped into the bathroom, the marble cool under her feet. "What can you tell us about her?"
Carol dropped the towel onto a bench. "She likes to reference the old comics. The golden age ones. She says the original Wonder Woman was a prisoner who had to fight her way free, and that the new show is about a woman who frees herself before anyone else gets the chance." She looked between them. "Why do you want to know?"