“I think Magda’s really happy,” Sera whispered, and giggled.
“Magda is very happy,” Magda said. “In fact, Magda is ecstatic. Do you know how to spell ‘ecstatic’, Sera?”
“Ummm…. E-x-s-t-a-t-i-c-k?”
“Near enough. I’m going to hug you and your mom, now. Is that okay with you?”
“Yep.”
Magda wrapped her arms around them both, and pressed a loud smacking kiss on Sera’s cheek, making her giggle again. “That’s for being the best daughter ever and giving your mom the okay to do this,” Magda said. “I know she wouldn’t do it if you weren’t happy about it. So thank you, Sera.
“And this one’s for you, Opal Jordan Stewart.” Magda kissed her on the cheek, enveloping her in the scent of expensive cosmetics and a perfume redolent of jasmine. She pulled away and when she straightened, she blotted her eyes again. “You are going to be famous, Opal-Jordan. A household name. And I’m so thrilled to be the one giving you this opportunity.”
At a loss to know what to say, Opal reached out to pat Magda’s arm.
Magda clasped her hand and squeezed it gently. “I can’t wait for you to come on board. But first we need to get this contract looked over. Does someone on the list take your fancy? I can have Conrad over here tonight if I call in that favor he owes me. Or do you want to call Desiree for a recommendation?”
Reality bit. Of course a savvy businesswoman like Magda would want to wrap this up as soon as possible… before the glow wore off and doubts set in. And of course now Opal’s throat was—inevitably—clogged by the words she wanted to say. She swatted Sera lightly on the bottom to send her off to watch TV again.
Sera tossed her a grin and skipped off toward the lounge.
Opal gestured Magda to take her seat, and fumbled in her overalls pocket for her mobile phone. She held up two fingers for “Give me a couple of minutes”.
Magda nodded and took another sip of her soda while Opal texted Desiree, asking if she would come over. ASAP. Because Opal needed urgent advice on an offer she didn’t want to refuse but might be too damn good to be true.
Desiree’s reply came back in seconds; she must have been sitting on her phone or something. The Handsome Asshole propositioned you???
Yikes. So not going there right now. I have Magda Bliss sitting in my kitchen. Have u heard of her?
OMG. Bet I know what this is about. Fantastic!!! Hah. Sherri’s gonna be so pissed!
Sherri who?
Later. Be there in an hour tops.
An hour? But…. Hadn’t Desiree mentioned she had an apartment in New York? Where r u right now?
Longwood Gardens. Just finishing up a shoot. Hang tight till I get there.
Opal looked directly at Magda. “C-C-Can you w-w-wait an hour?”
“Got someone coming for moral support?”
Opal nodded. “D-D-Desiree.”
“Good. Less chance of you freaking out about signing the contract after the fact. And yes, I can wait. Believe me, I have nothing I’d rather do than sit here in your kitchen drinking soda. And I mean that sincerely.” Magda cocked her head, her expression thoughtful. “There’s something about your place that’s strangely Zen. I never thought I’d hear myself saying this, but I have no desire to check my emails or phone messages, or check in with Emilie. If something urgent crops up she’ll manage.”
She raised her eyebrows in a way that made her resemble a little girl contemplating mischief. “Tell you what. When Desiree gets here, I’ll order takeout for us girls and Sera. My treat. And I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the car that could do with chilling before we crack it open to celebrate.”
Opal stared at her, speechless with dismay. Champagne? No way was she drinking champagne. Even the thought of it made her want to puke.
“I didn’t know you were a sure thing,” Magda said, misinterpreting her horrified expression. “But I was very hopeful. I only had to recall your expression when you walked that runway. You owned the room. The audience adored you, and you loved it. I’ll go get that champagne, and then we can help Sera finish her homework while we wait for Desiree to arrive. Sound like a plan?”
“C-C-Could you… c-c-call C-C-Conrad first?”
“On it,” Magda said.
“Then s-s-sounds like a p-p-plan.” Would it be rude if she disappeared to her bedroom to lay down for a half hour? ’Cause her head was spinning right now, and she had an insane desire to hit the mall and spend up large on her emergency credit card. Not to mention splurging on a really nice red wine so she would have an excuse to avoid the champagne.
Bad idea, Opal. Don’t count your kittens quite yet. This could all turn pear-shaped once Desiree arrives to dole out some old-fashioned commonsense. Or Conrad, for that matter, if he doesn’t approve the contract’s fine print.
But, faced with Magda’s delighted smile as she grabbed her Blackberry from her bag, Opal didn’t think Conrad would find anything to disapprove of in the contract. And she suspected Desiree would side with Magda and encourage Opal to go for it. So she summoned an answering smile—which came all too easily—and wandered to the refrigerator to grab another soda. Not because she was particularly thirsty right now. On principle. Because it seemed silly to stint.
Wow. This day was turning out to be surreal. Life-changing in a good way for a change. She felt more hopeful about the future than she’d felt since morphing from clichéd teenage ugly duckling to model.
She fought the urge to rush next door and throw herself into Danbur’s arms and babble about her good fortune… which was a ridiculous urge. She might have slept with him but he wasn’t a permanent fixture in her life. Her good fortune was none of his business.
Her fingers tightened on the soda, leaving dents in the soft can. What was wrong with her? She’d flipped from touch-me-not-ever-because-you’re-male-and-males-can’t-be-trusted, to here-I-am-take-me-now-you-burning-hot-hunk-of-a-man. From rape victim who couldn’t put past trauma behind her, to woman fighting insta-lust for a man who obviously dragged around as much baggage as she did. If not more.
She craved Danbur like some… some… drug. It was like meeting him had flicked a switch inside her head. It couldn’t be normal, feeling this way.
She pressed the chilled can to her forehead, and wondered whether she should consider another bout of therapy. And then Peter walked into the kitchen holding Sera’s hand, and all Opal’s doubts and worries floated away, leaving only excitement and a strange nagging emptiness that yearned to be filled by something. Or someone.
Chapter Fourteen
Opal took a large gulp of wine, lay back against the couch, and went limp as a dishrag as the peppery, dark fruit flavors exploded on her tongue, slid smoothly down her throat, and warmed the pit of her belly. Ahhhh. Bliss. She swirled the wine in her glass and then held the plain tumbler up to the light. Time to invest in some proper wine glasses. For red wine and white. It had been a little embarrassing bringing these out of the cupboard when the alcohol had started to flow—which it had shortly after Desiree had arrived bearing a nice full-bodied red. And Opal had made damn sure to pour a big-ass glass of cabernet sauvignon for herself while everyone else toasted her good fortune with the dreaded champagne.
She heard raised voices outside as Desiree waved off Magda and Conrad, who were headed to Conrad’s house for a private meet-up. From the slightly distant expression in Magda’s eyes, Opal suspected she was mentally rehearsing the best way to break the news that the American public wouldn’t be wowed by a Stella North fashion label any time soon.
She hoped Conrad wouldn’t be too disappointed. Or cop too much flack from Stella, who, according to Annie, acted like a spoiled brat if Daddy didn’t give her what she wanted, when she wanted it.
Conrad had been a trooper tonight. Opal owed him big-time. She’d always liked him but now she trusted him implicitly, too. And she’d insisted he be allowed to tell his wife all about Magda’s offer rather than keeping it confidential. Conrad would make su
re Annie understood the importance of keeping everything under wraps until the campaign launch.
Besides, if not for Annie, Opal wouldn’t have been at that show in Brooklyn, and Magda wouldn’t have “rediscovered” Jordan Cast. Annie would be thrilled to bits. And Opal would have someone else to share her good fortune with.
She took another gulp of wine, cradled the glass on her stomach, and closed her eyes. She still couldn’t quite believe how easy everything had been. Magda had been truthful about there being no hidden surprises buried in the contract’s legalese. Conrad had even groused about her rendering him almost superfluous; he seemed to take it as a personal affront that there was very little to renegotiate in the contract Magda’s legal team had drawn up. The only hitch, in fact, had centered around timing.
Magda already had deadlines she wanted to hit because she’d had another model lined up—one Sherriam Lindsay. That presented a huge problem, surely. But Magda had done that elegant hand wave again, declaring she would invoke some part of the morals clause and pay Sherriam to go away. Or, if “Sherri” decided to be troublesome, use her as a background model—something Magda insisted a diva like Sherriam would never tolerate. She would walk, and everyone would be happy, according to Magda.
Opal was still a little shocked by the way in which everyone dismissed Sherriam. But Magda insisted it was nothing personal, just business. And Desiree had summed it up by snorting into her champagne and bluntly stating that, for the record, Sherri was a back-stabbing bitch-troll-from-hell, and if anyone deserved to get her ass dumped it was her.
Awkward—for Opal’s sensibilities, not for anyone else’s, apparently.
Anyway, Magda planned on seamlessly slotting Opal in so the launch date didn’t have to be pushed out. She wanted Opal to meet with the photographer and the hair and makeup team, be fitted out for her first shoot, check out the rest of the range, and a whole host of other things that made Opal’s head spin. In other words, drop everything she was doing and start, like, yesterday. But no way was Opal committing to a start date until she’d sorted a caregiver for Sera. Plus, she wanted the chance to find a replacement housekeeper for her clients. She felt she owed them that much. So in the end Conrad negotiated for her to have the rest of this week and all of next week to get everything in order.
Cue Peter making an offer Opal couldn’t refuse. “I enjoy Sera’s company immensely,” he’d said. Followed by the clincher, “You would be doing a lonely old man a favor by letting me look after her until you find someone more permanent.”
Sera’s response to that offer could only be described as enthusiasm to the max, and if Opal suspected that OTT reaction had an awful lot to do with her daughter being delighted to spend time with Peter’s houseguest, she kept her suspicions to herself.
“Well, that’s sorted then,” Peter had said, draining the last of his champagne. “I must be getting back before my houseguest decides to tackle the evening meal on his own. He’s inclined to grill whatever he finds in the freezer and sometimes the results are not the best.” And while Opal was distracted by a daydream of Danbur manning the grill wearing only an apron, Sera had boldly invited herself to dinner with Peter and skipped out the front door clutching the old man’s hand.
It was enough to make anyone’s brain hurt.
Now that Opal was alone—albeit temporarily, since Desiree would be heading back inside any minute now—it was a little easier to think. And it occurred to her to wonder how very relaxed Magda had been about Peter sitting in and listening while Conrad demystified the contract. Come to think about it, everyone had been relaxed, and no one had even thought to question Peter’s presence. There was something about that old man—
“Don’t tell me you need a nana-nap after all the excitement.”
Opal dragged open her eyelids to see Desiree juggling a glass of red wine and poised to collapse onto the couch. She half-heartedly attempted to move her feet to make more room but as soon as Desiree’s butt hit the chair she grabbed Opal’s ankles and plunked them in her lap.
“Sit. Stay.” With a last pat to Opal’s feet, Desiree draped an arm over the back of the couch. Her eyes glinted with barely suppressed eagerness. “Spill!”
“Magda—”
“Not about Magda. I know all about her spotting you in the photos Conrad sent her, and deciding she had to have you, blah blah blah. She was very chatty tonight.” Desiree crinkled her nose. “Which is not like her at all, I might add. I’ve never seen her so chilled. Any more chilled and she’d have been virtually horizontal. It felt like we were starring in an episode of the Twilight Zone. And did you see her flirting with your neighbor? But we’ll talk more about that later. Now I wanna hear all about the handsome asshole.”
Opal tried to delay the inevitable by gulping more wine.
“Yeah, drink up.” Desiree’s smirk could only be described as calculating and, yes, borderline evil. “You barely stutter at all when you’re well lubricated, and there’s plenty more where that came from ’cause I left another bottle in the kitchen. So spill. Don’t make me hold your nose and pour another glass down your throat.”
Damned if Desiree wasn’t right and the stutter was nowhere in evidence. Of course there’d been another time, very recently, when Opal definitely hadn’t stuttered. Huh. Apparently spectacular sex or copious amounts of red wine was all it took. Could have saved her some fruitless and very pricey speech therapy sessions.
“What makes you think there’s anything to spill?”
“Don’t give me that,” Desiree said. “I have a finely tuned radar for this kind of thing. I could tell the minute I walked in that you’d been thoroughly—” She caught Opal’s OMG-please-don’t-say-it expression. “Uh, that the earth had moved for you. It was that good, huh?”
“Yes,” Opal said, trying and failing to contain the dopey grin spreading across her face. “It was incredible. Best sex I’ve ever had.” Not that she had anything to compare it to but…. Yeah.
“I’m gonna hazard a guess you hooked up with the handsome asshole—not that you’re predictable or anything.” Desiree snorted. “Actually, you are so predictable.”
“Yeah. I am. And it was amazing. He was amazing.”
“But?”
“What makes you think there’s a ‘but’?”
Desiree rolled her eyes. “In my vast experience, with guys that fine there’s always a ‘but’.”
Opal’s dopey grin faded and segued into a sigh. She shoved a cushion beneath her head so she could tilt her glass to her lips with less chance of slopping wine over herself. “Points to you. The ‘but’ is I haven’t seen him since the earth moved.” She emphasized the euphemism with fingers curled into air quotes.
“And when did the earth move, exactly?” Desiree swirled the wine in her glass, took a sip, and then firmly fixed her gaze on Opal’s face.
Damn. There was no hiding from that penetrating gaze. “Saturday night. It’s been—”
“Lemme see. Four days, three nights, and counting.” Desiree contemplated this for a moment. “And he’s staying next door, right? Sera told me.”
“Right.”
“Wow. So the handsome asshole either has a lot of self-control, or—”
“Or, he got what he wanted and moved on.”
Desiree shook her head. “Nyuh uh. No offence, Opal, but you’re very available, and obviously willing. And so gorgeous you make angels weep, and from what I could see, he was very into you. So him going cold and not taking advantage of you again—because, hello? Healthy male in his prime?—means something’s up. And I’m not talking about his cock. Although if you wanted to—talk about his cock, I mean—that’d be fine by me. I happen to be fond of cocks.”
Opal snorted wine through her nose.
When she’d finished choking, Desiree said, “Tell me everything or I’ll have to kill you and cut you up into little pieces and bury you in the garden. Which will mean Sera will have to go live permanently with that old dude next door—who, I got
ta say, has a curiously impressive fashion sense for an old dude. And Magda will hate me forever because she’ll have to grovel to that bitch Sherriam and get her back on board. Which will mean the campaign is doomed to fail because, hello? Sherriam Lindsay! So Magda will hunt me down and rip out my heart.” Desiree took a healthy swig of wine instead of a deep breath. “And eat it, knowing Magda. She’s fierce when it comes to people she’s taken a shine to—like you, obviously. But she’s not someone you want to cross. As Sherriam will discover if she tries the diva act.”
Opal swiped the back of her hand over her mouth and blotted wine from her overalls. Lucky they were navy so it wouldn’t stain too much.
“Hello. Earth to Opal!” Desiree clicked her fingers. “I don’t need you to go all porno on me, if that’s what you’re worrying about. I mean, what he said, how he acted afterward—that stuff. So we can, like, analyze everything to death and try’n figure out what’s going on in his dumbass male brain right now. Though if you want to go all porno on me, that’s fine, too.” She threw back her shoulders and stuck out her chest. “I can take it.”
Opal burst out laughing. Desiree was…. The best. So it was ludicrously easy to spill her guts. And when she ran out of things to say, she eyed Desiree over the rim of her glass and awaited the verdict.
“He’s totally into you,” Desiree pronounced, without a shred of doubt in her tone. “But he’s backing off rather than push you any further. Which is what nice guys do when they have a heap of shit to sort out and don’t want you caught up in that shit.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen it before. It’s sweet, really. Frustrating as hell but sweet.”
The sudden vulnerability Desiree exuded, the way she had caught her lower lip between her teeth and was contemplating the inch of wine left in her glass, dampened Opal’s sudden rush of happiness. “Roth, huh?”
Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series Page 22