by Sharan Daire
All of which was true. He just left out the part about Bessie basically being ready to go. I gave him an approving nod. “She’s going to run like a charm.”
“So you were able to get all the parts in?” Shelby asked. “I thought you were worried some might be hard to find.”
Kaleb audibly gulped and broke out in a sweat despite the frosty air. He was sinking fast, so I did the only thing I could think of.
I hit him square in the face with a snowball. The kids shrieked, and it was suddenly a World-War-Three-level snowball fight. By the time we made it up to the lodge, everyone was laughing and pink cheeked. Kaleb still looked guilty as hell, so I dragged him off with me with the excuse that I needed him to look at my squad car.
“Please tell her,” he pleaded. “Tonight.”
“I will.”
“Promise. I won’t lie to her. If she needs to leave, so be it. We can’t keep her here under false pretenses.”
“I know, I know,” I repeated. “I’ll explain everything to her tonight. Hopefully she’s had enough time to get used to the idea of staying with us.”
“It’s only been a few days, but it feels like years. I can’t hold out much longer.”
I knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t sex he was talking about, either. It was the hope gnawing away from the inside out. Every moment we were with her, she owned another piece of our hearts. It might only be a few days, but I’d already invested wholeheartedly into a future.
With her. With her two kids. Right here in our lodge.
I’d do whatever needed done to be sure that dream came true, for my brother, and for us all. We could make her insanely happy. I knew it. We just needed the time to prove it to her.
21
Shelby
Yesterday’s photo shoot had been one dress and all the guys. Today, evidently, was every dress in Chris’ portfolio and only little ole me. He had three lined up on racks waiting for me as soon as I walked in, and that was just the first hour.
I never realized that changing clothes a thousand times would be so exhausting. Plus fixing my hair and makeup each and every time. Chris had left me alone in the dressing room most of the day yesterday, but today, he was like a costume drill sergeant. He had them redo my eyes. Change the lipstick. Hair up. Hair down. Smooth it. Curl it. Stand up. Sit down. Stare at the camera. Pout. Smile. Look scared. Look down. Turn around.
Over and over and over.
Each set of photographs only made him angrier, at least that was what it seemed like. His growls were louder. His words short and bitten off as if he was trying not to yell. Maybe he was having second thoughts about me. It was one thing to play a role yesterday with the guys, letting them guide and help me. Plus, yeah, the physical attraction was through the roof. It’d been easy to flirt and relax and let them treat me like a queen.
Today, though, it was just me and the angry photographer, not the sexy bad guy who liked to pin me up against a wall.
“God damn it,” he muttered, viciously punching buttons on the camera that probably cost more than my car’s overhaul.
Misery made my eyes burn, but I refused to cry. It’d mess up my makeup and he’d only be more furious. Gathering my dignity and tattered pride, I slipped down from the stool he’d made me perch on for the past hour.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
I swallowed hard and kept my voice neutral. “Well, it’s obviously not working out. I understand. Thanks for giving me a shot. It was fun while it lasted.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re perfect.” His eyes narrowed and his chin jutted out belligerently. “I’m not finished with you yet. Not by a long shot.”
“It’s okay. Really.” Tiredly, I pushed the single long curl the stylists had painstakingly dangled down my forehead out of the way. “These single shots are just too hard for me. I’m not a model.”
“The fuck you are.”
Ignoring him, I started for the door, determined to go calmly and proudly, even if it felt like a walk of shame. I didn’t hear any footsteps behind me, but he seized my arm and whirled me around to face him so hard I almost twisted my ankle. The stiletto spun out, leaving me reeling up against him.
So cruel. I didn’t want to even think about the possibilities with him if this wasn’t going to work out. I bit my lip, trying not to burst into frustrated tears.
“You’re not the problem,” he growled, leaning down in into my space. His fingers clamped on my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze head on. “I’m the problem.”
“Which is why I should go. You need—”
“You. I need you. But I can’t… I’m not…” He growled again and spun away from me.
I staggered a moment, fighting to regain my balance without his support. He paced back and forth, raking a hand through his closely cropped hair and muttering to himself. He slammed his fist against his thigh several times, working himself up even more.
Maybe I should call Everett. He was supposed to be in after lunch, but if Chris needed one of his friends… I didn’t know what to do if he was having some kind of breakdown moment. It killed me to see him so twisted and knotted up, but I had no idea what the problem was.
If it wasn’t me… The clothes, the hair, my face… Then what was wrong?
He flung himself down into an office chair, facing a corner desk, his back very carefully to me. “Let’s break for lunch. Go find Everett. He should be finishing up with the meeting soon.”
His shoulders drooped. Granted, I didn’t know him that well, but I didn’t think much would ever make him so dejected. The star quarterback, the honored military veteran, the successful businessman—he’d never give up like this. He’d fought his way back from serious PTSD to build a lodge from scratch and start his own fashion line.
I couldn’t leave him like this. Alone and furious at himself.
I stepped closer, making sure my heels clacked on the floor to warn him of my approach. He didn’t lift his head or turn, but he also didn’t tell me to leave. I dropped my hand onto his shoulder and his entire body quivered as if I’d sent a lightning bolt through him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked gently, keeping my touch light on his shoulder.
“Me.” He blew out a sigh, his head hanging even lower so his chin pressed into his chest. “I can’t do it.”
I closed my eyes a moment, sudden terror washing over me. He couldn’t do… the sharing? With his friends? He couldn’t accept me? Even with them?
They’d given me so much these last few days. Not just helping me with my car and giving me a place to stay but also making me feel beautiful and special. Princess Shelby, as Kaleb had called me last night. They’d made me feel wickedly attractive and desirable, when I had given up on ever embracing my feminine sexy side ever again. I was resigned to being the mother, the caregiver, the frazzled waitress. There wasn’t any room for even casual sex every once in a while in that life.
I’d only just started to wrap my mind around what being with the four of them would entail, and now he didn’t think it was going to work out? Before we even gave it a shot?
“Oh. Okay,” I whispered, starting to remove my hand.
His fingers snapped around mine, crushing my hand back down against his shoulder. “It’s not you,” he repeated. “I don’t want you to leave.”
I swallowed the razor blades tearing up my throat. “What do you want, then?”
He blew out a sigh and the screaming tension in his body faded away. Turning, he slipped my hand off his shoulder and pressed my palm to his chest. I could feel the heavy thud of his heart, steady and powerful like a thoroughbred racehorse. The kind of horse that would run until it dropped dead, just because it loved how fast it could go.
“I want you. I want us. I want you for the line. I want your face plastered in every fashion magazine, my dresses on your delectable body.”
Confused, I shook my head slightly. “But…?”
“I can’t do it. I can�
�t do justice to you. I can’t do justice to the dress. The look.” He pushed up out of the chair and started pacing again, though at least he wasn’t so furious this time. “I’m a self-taught designer and photographer. The sewing I can manage. I’ve got years of experience with an M107 semi-automatic long range sniper rifle, and this fucking Nokia has defeated me.
“I see exactly what I want in my head. The way the dress flares around you. The way the light highlights your skin and sets your hair on fire. The perfect moment, your lips slightly open as you’re inhaling, inviting us into your world. But I can’t capture it. It’s there, but I can’t… Fuck!”
He whirled around and jabbed a finger in my direction. “You deserve the best photographer that I can afford, and that sure isn’t me. I’ll get on the phone and find the best photographer available, though it might take a few days to get them here.”
Dumbfounded, I didn’t know what to say. It was one thing to let him take steamy pictures with his friends, but a stranger? Even worse, a professional, who photographed supermodels all over the world. I was an untrained nobody who’d just stumbled into this gig.
He leaped to his feet and seized my arm, drawing an undignified squawk from me as he rushed to the door. It was all I could do to hustle along beside him without breaking a leg as he practically dragged me back to the front desk.
On the phone, Everett looked up as we neared, his eyes widening. “I’m very sorry, but I must end our conversation.”
He hung up and came around the desk in a rush, quickly looping his arm around my waist. He tugged me gently toward him, as if silently encouraging Chris to let me go, but he only moved closer to us both. “Everything okay here?”
“Everything’s fine,” Chris snapped, chest to chest with the taller man. “Get the paperwork and have her sign it now.”
“Are you okay, Shelby?”
Chris didn’t say a word, but his demeanor changed immediately, from fiery to downright glacial. He released me and took a step back, not even looking at us. I didn’t know him all that well, but it seemed to me as if he was offended that his friend was worried about me.
“I’m fine,” I said to reassure them both. “We were having some issues with the shoot.”
“I would like to present my contract offer to Miss Kent now,” Chris said in a detached, business-like voice. “If my attorney will please review the documents with her and make sure the terms are agreeable. Bring any revisions to me at once. I’ll be in my suite. I want her locked as my exclusive model before the end of the day.”
He started walking back toward the private section of the hotel, leaving Everett gaping at him. “But what about the shoot? Are we still on for the afternoon?”
“No.” Chris didn’t pause or look back. “Send the hair and makeup people home with a nice bonus. I need to make some calls before we start again.”
I had the urge to chase after him, at least to tell him that I wasn’t upset or scared. He hadn’t hurt me. He was just brusque and short tempered. That didn’t bother me. It wasn’t because he was an entitled asshole who treated everyone around him like dirt.
He just wanted his business done immediately. His way. No questions. No patience for mistakes, especially his own.
Everett lowered his protective stance but looped my arm through his. “I can’t wait to hear what this is about. Are you sure you’re alright? What the hell happened?”
I described Chris’ frustration with himself and the photographs he was taking as Everett led me behind the desk to a private office. Bookshelves lined the walls, and the windows were covered, giving the room a cozy cave feeling. A large multi-station wooden desk took up most of the floor space, with two comfortable looking armchairs before it.
He set me down in one of the chairs and went behind his desk. “So he’s going to hire a photographer. Figures. I told him from the beginning that I thought it was unprofessional for him to try and do everything himself. Not that he’d listen to me. I do owe him an apology, though. The way he was dragging you down the hallway freaked me out a bit.”
“He didn’t hurt me.”
Everett unlocked a drawer and pulled out a dark blue folder that he positioned in front of him upside down so that I could read it. The paper looked super nice and luxe, and the folder was embossed with a modified four-leaf clover. Each of the leaves was pointed and sharp rather than rounded, so that it resembled some kind of weapon rather than the traditional good-luck charm.
His gleaming eyes probed, missing nothing. “Are you scared of him? Even a little?”
I shrugged uncomfortably. “He startles me sometimes, but I wouldn’t say I’m scared of him. He’s loud and short and impatient. He might grab me unexpectedly, but he doesn’t hurt me when he does it.”
“Even yesterday,” Everett murmured, making me flush at the memory. “A lot of women might have been turned off by the way he gripped your throat and pushed you against the wall.”
Just the memory made my knees weak, so I was glad to be sitting down rather than trying to wobble on these heels.
He laughed softly at the look on my face, though not in a mean way. “I guess that’s why we all want you so badly, Shelby. Not just for ourselves, but for him too.”
I couldn’t help but make a low, derisive noise. Suave, sophisticated men like Everett Harris didn’t really fall in love with the poor waitress, no matter how many times they remade Cinderella. It’d been fun to play out that fantasy yesterday, but deep down, I still believed that was all it was. Pure make believe.
“You doubt my words.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “What could a rich, smart, successful guy like you want with a single mom waitress like me? I’m sorry, but the fairytales don’t come true for people like me.”
“People like you,” he repeated softly, reaching across the desk, palm up, silently asking for my hand. With a soft sigh, I slipped my fingers into his. “For one thing, I’d love you forever just because you accept Chris with all his faults and give us all hope that we can make this work. But I knew as soon as you walked into the lodge that I’d lose my heart to you, regardless of what happened with him or our friends.”
My cheeks burned and I fought the urge to drop my gaze to our clasped hands. “What? Why?”
“My parents weren’t rich like Chris’. In fact, I never knew my father. Mom raised us alone, just like you’re raising your kids. There were four mouths to feed, and we were basically known as the trailer park kids. Mom worked herself to death feeding us all, doing the best she could day in and day out. My eldest sister, Eleanor, took over for her once she passed. Got all us kids through school, working the same menial jobs that basically killed Mom. As the baby of the family, I was always a burden. At least that’s what it felt like.
“My two older brothers took construction and factory jobs as soon as they graduated from high school. They made a good living and started helping Eleanor more with my expenses. I wanted to go to college so bad, but there was no way I’d put that burden on her. She’d already sacrificed her childhood and most of her twenties to raise her siblings. I wasn’t going to ask her for any more help.
“I worked my ass off through school and won as many scholarships as I could, but it wasn’t nearly enough for law school. I’d actually decided that I was going to have to join the military with Chris and Derek to get money for college, when my family surprised me with a down payment.”
He paused a moment, clearing his throat. His thumb swirled against my palm. “You see, even while we were barely making ends meet, Eleanor had been putting a little money away every single week. If there was overtime, she picked up an extra shift. A part time temp job? She took it. Then my brothers did the same thing, setting aside a dollar or two every week. For years. Even while taking care of their own families.
“It was enough to get me to Yale, and then I worked every side job and hustle I could find to make up the rest. Chris ‘hired’ me to keep tabs on his inheritance while he was in th
e Marines, paying me way more than I deserved, and that’s how I made it through law school. All because my family was willing to work extra to help me.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of my knuckles, his lips soft and gentle. “I look at you, and I see a woman like my sister and my mother. Willing to do anything for their kids. Working themselves to death. Yet still shining with love and light and goodness. I saw you and recognized you for what you really are.” He turned my hand over, opening my fingers slightly so he could press a kiss against my palm. “An angel. And I wanted you to be mine.”
EVERETT
I hadn’t meant to bore her with my life story, but even though it made my heart raw to drag up all those old memories, I was glad to share them with her. I knew what it was like to want a better life, but to also be too proud to ask for help. Too ashamed. Too broken by loss and disappointment.
I didn’t want that for her and her kids.
Her fingers trembled in mine, her eyes shimmering with emotion. Bringing her to the lodge, to us, was only the first step. Now we needed to make sure she was taken care of, regardless of what happened with the four of us. She’d have the financial freedom and independence to choose what she wanted to do. She certainly wouldn’t be forced to stay with us because she had no other option.
“That leads me to the contract.” With my free hand, I lightly tapped my fingertips against the folder. “I’ve been working with Chris to get everything drawn up to his specifications. Now it’s your turn to tell me what you need in order to agree to be our exclusive model for Red Velvet Angel.”
Her cheeks flushed and she laughed awkwardly. “He’s really going to call it that?”
“Absolutely. Now he said he wants you locked in today, but I recommend you have an independent attorney look at the contract before you sign it. I can put you in contact with someone who’d make sure you were happy with the terms. I pride myself on being a very fair corporate attorney, but in the end, I work for Chris. He might bluster a bit, but it’s the best thing for you.”