by Cate Beauman
"And how does Escape and Lily Brand plan to accomplish this?"
"We'll open safe houses in the Baltimore and Los Angeles areas to start. We hope to have our first two locations up and running by mid-March. One hundred percent of Escape's profits will go to emergency housing for those in need of a safe place to stay. Counselors will be on hand. Outreach and job training will also be available."
"This sounds great, Abby—and lofty."
She shrugged her shoulders as Jackie applied blusher and Marco pulled the last of her hair needing curls from the small twist he'd created with a clip. "It sounds like the right thing to do."
“The Escape line is your baby. You came up with the idea after surviving quite an ordeal of your own."
"Yes." She relaxed her tensing shoulders as she met Jerrod's eyes in the mirror. He sat on the couch behind her, watching her closely.
There was no way to avoid the conversation. The topic of her abduction would come up again and again while she promoted the new line. It was time to get used to that. "I definitely saw the darker side of humanity, but I also had a chance to see the strength we all posses to survive and overcome."
"Is that what you're doing? Surviving, overcoming?"
She uncurled her hands hidden below the black smock. "No. I did survive, now I'm picking up the pieces and moving on. My goal is to leave the past behind and continue looking ahead. I have a lot of amazing things coming my way.”
Connie gave her a nod of approval.
“So, what did you think of The Times article accusing Lily Brand of not only hiring prostitutes but paying them below the standard wage?"
She swallowed the rush of anger as she thought of Toni Torrell. “I would say her accusations are irresponsible journalism. Our goal at Lily Brand is empowerment, no matter an individual's background. All of our models are paid above union wage. The men and women on our teams do their jobs well. Their past has little to do with their rate of compensation."
"Well said."
She smiled. "Thanks."
"And what about today's headlines? Lily's Youth Program has been a well kept secret."
And she thanked her lucky stars she was still in the clear. Fate had been on her side when Toni's camera captured Lily and the kids crowded around their new equipment while she had been on the main floor speaking with Jerrod. By some miracle she'd dodged the headlines for another day. "Lily's focus is always on helping others—"
The studio door slammed, and Abby jumped as Zenn MacGreggor walked in the room, followed by his harried assistant. "I'm ready to begin." Zenn clapped twice for everyone's attention, as if his three-inch, bleached blond spikes and funky, checkered black and white top weren't enough to draw the eye.
“Oh, we better wrap this up,” Connie said with a roll of her eyes. Zenn MacGreggor was well known for his brilliant photography and impossible demands. “Thanks for sitting down with me, Abby.” Connie held out her hand.
Abby returned her handshake. “Thank you for giving Escape great publicity.”
“I’m happy to help.” Connie stood, gathering her tape recorder and laptop. “I wish I could say enjoy your shoot, but I won’t bother.”
Abby laughed.
“Where’s my model?” Zenn barked.
“Oh dear,” Jackie mumbled as she slid a final brush of powder along Abby’s temples.
"Let's make this happen, people." Zenn clapped again.
Abby met Jerrod’s eyes in the mirror for the second time, and she shrugged.
He smiled and went back to reading his paper.
“Ms. Harris.” A tiny woman with bright red streaks in her black hair hurried her way. “I’m Leah, Zenn’s assistant. If there’s anything you need, just let me know. Come with me and we’ll get you set up for the first shots.” She grabbed Abby’s arm, pulling her to the changing area before Jackie could remove the long black smock. “We have several series we’ll run through. Your image will be used throughout the magazine.” She closed them in the dressing room.
Abby eyed the doorknob. “Uh, I need that open.”
“Huh? Excuse me?” Leah turned back with the first outfit in hand, one of Lily's long red dresses that would leave little to the imagination.
She swallowed, loosening the tight ball in her throat. “The door. Please open the door.”
“Oh, sorry. All the way?”
“No. Just a couple of inches is fine.”
Leah opened the door.
“Thank you.”
“Where is my model?” Zenn hollered.
“Ugh. Here, turn.” Leah yanked Abby around and pulled off the smock. “Get this on before he throws a tantrum.”
"Before he throws a tantrum?"
"This is nothing."
Abby disrobed in front of Leah, too accustomed to being half naked to feel shy. There was little room for modesty in this business. She secured the strapless, backless bra in place and slid the slinky dress over her head, careful not to mess up Marco and Jackie's hard work. She examined herself in the mirror as Leah pulled up the zipper, stopping an inch above her butt, and tied the two strings at the back of her neck. The long dress clung to every curve, exposing most of her right leg, a healthy peek at her cleavage, and left her entire back naked—elegant and extremely sexy.
“Perfect,” Leah smiled. “You look incredible. Let’s go make Zenn happy. I like it so much better when he’s happy.”
Abby chuckled. “I’ll do my best to make him delirious.”
“I wouldn’t hate that.”
They stepped out, and Marco slid two bracelets on her wrist as she walked by. She noted that Jerrod was no longer sitting on the couch.
“Yes! Yes!” Zenn clapped again. “You were almost worth the wait. Come to me.” The man was skinny as a rail and no more than five-foot seven, yet he terrified everyone.
She searched for Jerrod among the cluster of light poles and meters, the makeup space and opened bathroom door. Where was he? Jerrod never left her when they were out. Her brows furrowed with concern as he stepped from the studio's kitchenette, pausing as he put his phone away. Their eyes met.
“I think you might have to knock this guy out,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as Leah dragged her past him. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting for Jerrod's smile, but he only stared at her. Was everything okay? She stopped, pulling away from Leah. "Hold on." She walked to Jerrod. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She studied his calm eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I was checking in with Ethan. You'll be the first to know if something's up. Go take your pictures."
"Okay."
"Come on, model," Zenn huffed with his hands on his hips.
Abby rolled her eyes and turned.
“Stand over there.” Zenn pointed to the ‘x’ taped on the floor. "Music!"
Leah hustled across the room. Seconds later music blasted into the room.
"Test shots," he said as he pulled the camera up in front of his face. “Yes! Yes! The camera loves you. Leah, fans.”
Leah played with the flow of cool wind blowing Abby's way while Zenn fiddled with his light meters.
Abby looked at Jerrod as he took his seat on the couch, grabbing a magazine this time, searching for any hints of tension. He seemed relaxed.
“Over here, model! Over here! Give me some movement.”
She focused on Zenn and moved her arms and hips, dancing for the lens, jutting her right leg out as she played with the hem of the dress.
“Fabulous. I'm in love! Good. Good. Perfect. But I want more. Give me more."
And she gave it, turning, bending, strutting, consumed by the euphoria of doing one of the things she loved best while Zenn followed her around. The worry of headlines and precautions vanished as she got lost in the glory of posing. How could she have forgotten the rush of working the camera?
"Yes! Yes!" Zenn lifted his head, breathless. "Go change."
Four wardrobe changes and two hairstyles later, Abby stopped for a s
ip of water as she sat by Jerrod on the arm of the couch in a simple pink tank top, denim shorts, and strappy leather sandals.
“Fix her hair, Marco. I want her ready for spring. Leah, where’s my male model?" He glanced at his watch. "Where the hell is he?”
“I don’t—I don’t know, Zenn,” Leah answered.
“He’s late,” he spat. “I don’t have time for late. My flight leaves in six hours.”
Marco hustled over with a kit of hairbrushes, ties and spray, immediately pulling Abby's hair up in a ponytail.
“Abby, are you all right if I step out for a couple minutes?” Leah asked, rolling her eyes.
“Definitely.” Poor Leah couldn’t possibly make enough to put up with the man talking to his cameras. He was insane. With a small shake of her head, Abby slapped her hand on Jerrod's shoulder while Jackie freshened her makeup. “How you holding up, big guy?”
“If I had some earplugs I’d be fine. That guy’s obnoxious.” He tossed a look toward Zenn.
“He’s very passionate about his art,” she tried.
His brow rose. “I’m feeling passionate about a right hook.”
She laughed, and Jackie chuckled.
Leah came back in and muttered something to Zenn, which sent him into another tirade.
“Oh, shit. I’m outta here.” Jackie grabbed her brushes on the table and abandoned ship.
"I'm coming with you." Marco hurried after her.
“How can I create a masterpiece when I’m missing a subject? I need a model.” Zenn whirled. “You.” He pointed to Jerrod. “Take off your shirt.”
Jerrod set down his fitness magazine. “Huh?”
“Lose the shirt, socks and shoes, and put this on.” Zenn threw a sage green button down his way. “You've got good bones and excellent muscles. The camera will like you well enough.”
Abby rushed up from her makeshift seat, trying to stop a disaster in the making. “Uh, he’s not a model, Zenn.”
“He is today. I have to have these shots now. I'm leaving for Europe this evening.”
“Yes, but—”
“If you want this exposure for your line, we need these pictures. No exceptions. I have a vision. No model and I scrap the whole thing.” He crossed his arms like a spoiled child.
“Oh.” What else could she say? She looked at Jerrod, trying to find a way to make this work for everyone. “How do you feel about having a couple of pictures taken?”
“I feel like it’s not going to happen.”
“Okay.” She nibbled her lip as her stomach sank. Escape needed this; it was national exposure. “Um, how about we change things around,” she suggested to Zenn.
“Change things around? Why, yes, what an idea. Let’s change things around. Why didn’t I think of that?” He slapped his hand against the table, and Abby flinched.
“All right already.” Jerrod rushed to his feet. “I’ll take the damn picture.” He toed off his sneakers, yanked his navy blue polo from his jeans, pulling it over his head, throwing it to the couch.
Holy wowza. Abby tracked her eyes up every glorious inch of Jerrod's cut body, surrendering to the rages of lust rushing through her belly. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him without his shirt on. Four. Four measly opportunities to ogle all of that yumminess. He was magnificent—broad shoulders, great pecs, a washboard stomach she wanted to brush her fingers down. And that tattoo, the criss-crossy band encircling an inch of his amazing right bicep.
“See, you’ll do just fine,” Zenn said.
Jerrod put on the green shirt and started buttoning.
“No, leave it undone. Now come.” Zenn left the room with Leah following quickly behind.
Abby hooked her arm through Jerrod's as they walked down the hall. “I’m sorry about this. I don’t know what else to do.”
Jerrod grunted as they turned into the third room on the left, stepping into a space that looked like a country backyard; fake flowers, bushes, and a wraparound porch included. A swing hung tied to a fake, thick tree branch sprouting from the wall.
“Sit on the swing,” Zenn demanded as he read his light meters.
Abby started toward the wooden swing.
“No, him.”
“Zenn, this is Jerrod,” Abby tried.
“Yes. Fine. Whatever. Sit.”
Jerrod took his seat, and Leah rushed over to fix his shirt, rolling the sleeves halfway up his forearms, pulling at the sides so that his stomach was exposed.
“Look at me, Jerrod.”
Jerrod looked at Zenn, clenching his jaw.
“Son of a bitch, you’re brilliant. The camera wants you. Abby, hop on the swing.”
Jerrod moved to stand.
“No, stay. Abby, on his lap, facing him. I want you to swing. It’s a warm spring day. You’re a couple laughing, enjoying each other’s company. Make it happen.”
Jerrod scooted back, eyeing Abby as she climbed on awkwardly and hooked her legs behind him, placing her hands above his on the rope. “I’m so sorry. You have no idea.”
“You owe me big time.”
“I know.” She smiled apologetically.
Leah swooped in and fussed with both of their outfits, pulling here, tugging there, taking the hip holster from Jerrod's belt, holding it gingerly between two fingers. "I'll just hold this for you."
"The weapon's secure and the safety's on."
"Mmm." She walked over by Zenn.
“Now swing,” Zenn commanded.
“Demanding bastard,” Jerrod muttered as he pushed off, sending them soaring.
Abby’s stomach plunged with the movement and settled as she stared into Jerrod's miserable eyes. "This will be over before you know it, big guy."
“Relax, Jerrod,” Zenn barked. “The camera sees everything.”
“It’ll help if you smile.” She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, giving him a cheesy grin.
He showed her his teeth in his worst fake smile, and Zenn swore.
She threw her head back, laughing, and Jerrod chuckled, moving one arm to her back, keeping her from falling off the swing.
Zenn took shot after shot. “Yes! Yes! Perfect! I got it. Wardrobe change for a wrap. Abigail, go with Leah. Jerrod, come with me.”
“Can you handle one more picture?” Abby asked as she freed herself from his lap.
“If it’s as painless as this one.”
“I’m sure it will be.” She leaned in close to his face, grabbing his chin between her fingers. “You’re a peach, Mr. Quinn.” She kissed his cheek, relieved that everything was working out.
“Come on, Abby." Leah handed Jerrod the holster and grabbed her arm. "We need to get you changed and have Marco fix your hair.”
“Duty calls, soldier. I’ll be back in less than five.” She gave Jerrod a salute.
He smiled as he followed behind them.
~~~~
Jerrod rubbed at his chin as he sat in his black boxers on crisp white sheets, waiting for Abby to appear from the dressing room, trying to figure out how the hell he'd gotten himself roped into this mess. Just an hour ago he'd been minding his own business, reading the latest issue of Men's Health, thinking about what he would have for a late lunch when they finished here; now he was half naked on some fake bedroom set crowded with cameras, umbrella-things, and fans. He was a Close Protection Agent, not a damn supermodel.
The studio door slammed behind him, and he grit his teeth as Zenn marched back in the room. If he'd ever met a more obnoxious man, he wasn’t coming to mind.
“Where’s my model?”
If Zenn hollered one more time…
Leah poked her head out of the half-opened door. “We’re coming. Marco just needs one more minute with Abby’s hair.”
“Hurry up.” He walked over to Jerrod, eyeing him, nodding. “Yes, I like this.” He opened his mouth to yell again, no doubt, and closed it when Abby stepped from the dressing room in the white cotton robe she'd been wearing off and on all day. Marco followed b
ehind, toying with loose, glossy ringlets he’d curled in her hair. Abby's makeup was different. It was as if she wore none at all, yet her eyes appeared sooty and impossibly huge.
“Good,” Zenn said as he marched back to his camera. “Abby, lose the robe so we can finish this up.”
She pulled the tie and set her robe aside, walking to the bed in nothing more than flossy black panties riding high and a matching bra, plunging low, leaving little to the imagination.
Goddamn. Jerrod’s gaze trailed over swells of creamy breasts, down her smooth toned tummy, slim hips, and incredibly hot legs. He looked up quickly, giving Abby a small smile, struggling to keep his eyes above her neckline. This is not what he’d been expecting for the last wardrobe change. What happened to the beautiful, sweet woman he laughed with on the swing? How would he ever look at her again and not see the naughty siren walking his way?
“Go ahead and get on the bed.” Zenn told her.
She crawled toward Jerrod.
“Stop,” Zenn demanded. “I need a test shot. Head down, Abby. Look up from under your lashes. Son of a bitch, you’re perfect. Pout."
She pursed her lips slightly on Zenn’s cue.
“Now smile for me—slow, sexy. Bedroom smile, Abby.”
A slow smile spread over her lips, and Jerrod struggled to swallow as the camera snapped rapidly. She was killing him.
Zenn lowered the camera, grabbing another lens, playing with his lights and meters.
Abby sat next to Jerrod, legs crossed, completely at ease as if she weren’t lounging around in barely there underwear. “This should be it.”
“Thank god."
“Jerrod, I want you to lay back against the pillows, knees up, one leg free of the sheets. Abby, I want you on top of him. Go ahead and sit on his stomach. I want light, sexual, playful. Your fun on the swing continued to the bedroom. We’re telling a story here. You two have a natural chemistry. Let me see it.”
"I'm so sorry, Jerrod. So incredibly sorry," she repeated as she straddled him, sitting back.
He clenched his jaw as her firm ass pressed against his skin, sending his libido raging.
She looked down. “Have I mentioned how much I appreciate this?”