“Good morning, Jagger. That is such a great name,” Leah gushed like a Vegas fountain.
“Thanks. My mum’s a huge Rollin’ Stones fan. Sis’s name is Mick.”
“Really? That’s wild.”
Zee refused to look, but could imagine Leah batting her eyelashes at Mr. Down Under.
“What do they call you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Leah, Leah Moynihan, and my studious friend here is Zee Lambert.”
“Pleasure to meet you both. Zee, is it now? Is that short for something? Zoey? Zelda? Zena? Like the Warrior Princess?”
“No.” Zee answered the question she’d answered countless times before. She looked up impatiently from her drawing. She’d messed with that one troublesome line so much the sketch was ruined. Frustrated, she crumpled the page in a fist.
The softness of Jagger’s brown eyes halted the snotty response she was about to shoot in his direction. She hadn’t realized how close he was standing. He smiled at her. One corner of his mouth crookedly tipped before the other revealing straight, white teeth. Her breath caught. Wasn’t she going to say something?
“No,” piped Leah, “Her name is Z period, Z period Lambert. Her mom’s a bit eccentric.”
“She was stoned.” Zee threw the crumpled sheet of newsprint into the beat-up metal trashcan next to the sink.
Jagger chuckled. “I know what having a wonky name has done for me.” He leaned forward and got closer to Zee. She could smell the apple on his breath. “Maybe after class you and I should get together. We can make a list of all the crazy names we’ll give our kids.”
“I beg your pardon?” Zee couldn’t tell if he was joking.
Leah almost choked on her coffee. “Go, Jagger.”
“I-I’m busy after class. I booked studio time.”
“Shame.” He took another bite of his apple. Zee couldn’t help but watch his mouth work. It was a great mouth. She had a sudden urge for a Macintosh flavored kiss. One corner of Jagger’s mouth tipped in a smirk. Zee’s eyes shot to his. He’d caught her staring.
He moved a bit closer. “You have a smudge on your cheek, Z. Z. Lambert.”
“Oh.” Zee wiped at her face with the back of her hand. He was too close. Her face blazed. Alarm bells went off in her head. Her stomach felt like a canary in a box.
“Other side.” He smiled at her as she blindly swiped at her face. She was convinced she was only spreading it around and she was seconds away from doing one of those “I’ve walked into a spider web” freak dances. “Here, let me.” He picked a clean rag off her worktable and wiped at her jaw. His eyes held hers and he smiled his crooked smile again.
“Thanks,” whispered Zee. The ten-year-old in her head twittered about never washing that side of her face again.
“You’re welcome.” He winked at her.
Winked? She pictured him clicking his tongue and giving her two thumbs-up. She watched him walk away. Had she really gone all gooey inside for a winker? Next thing you know he’d call her Babe.
She shut up the ten-year-old in her head. Zee’d never listened to her before, anyway. She smothered the canary. What was wrong with her?
Madeline signaled the end of the break, and Jagger stripped off his clothing as he moved back to the model’s dais.
Leah tipped toward her and sing-songed like they were in kindergarten. “He likes you, he likes you.”
“He does not. He was joking around.”
“Then why are you the color of Dorothy’s ruby slippers?”
“I am not!”
****
By the time class ended, Zee had more than a dozen great sketches of the flirty, winking Mr. Jones. After his last pose he thanked everyone, tossed on his clothes, grabbed another apple from his bag and left. Once he was out of earshot, appreciative comments flew from almost everyone.
“I can’t believe you told him you were busy,” chided Leah. “Studio time? Really? Are you crazy?”
“He wanted to pick out weird names for our children.”
“I heard. What a great line.”
“Now who’s crazy? The man winks like that guy on the infomercial selling car wax.”
“So, he winks. The man is beyond steamy. He melted my socks.” Leah puffed. “My Ted is going to be one lucky man tonight.”
“Won’t he be upset to learn it was Jagger Jones that got you all hot and bothered?” asked Zee as she packed her tools away.
“Ted?” Leah chuckled. “Are you kidding? He’s an animal. He’ll be thrilled.” She fiddled with a row of mismatched studs that traced her left ear and gave Zee a sassy look. “Always says he doesn’t care where I get my appetite as long as I come home for dinner.”
Zee laughed and shook her head. “You can have Ted and the tasty Jagger Jones. Haven’t you heard? I’m on a no-man diet.”
“Ted and Jagger? Oh, don’t tempt me.” Leah gave a throaty sigh. She fanned herself. “So if men are off the menu, what are you doing Saturday? How about a girl’s night? We haven’t had one of those in forever.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been a lousy friend. It’s only been a few weeks since I broke things off with Ed and he’s still driving me nuts. I’m rotten company. Even little Isabella doesn’t want to hang out with me.”
“It’s bad when your own cat doesn’t want to be with you.”
Zee laughed again. “She should be happy. She hated Ed.”
“Animals are great judges of character. Why are you still moping around, anyway?” Leah continued. “Breaking things off with that bastard was the best move you ever made. Besides, you could not, could not end up with a guy with the last name of Zeigler.”
“Mom thinks Z. Z. Zeigler would be a fabulous artist name. Doesn’t realize my initials would be a snore. She still insists Ed is perfect for me. He has a stable job, decent looks, isn’t a Republican, and his moon rises in Leo. After mapping our star charts you would have thought she’d found my soul mate. She thinks all he needs is to have his chakras aligned.”
“He needs something aligned, all right. Did she ever hear his vile mouth?”
“He wasn’t like that at first. Remember when we met him? He was helping with that Christmas toy drive.”
“Yes, I remember. He put a teddy bear in a head lock just before he punched it.”
“He was helping underpriviledged kids.” Zee shrugged. “And he’s always so clean.”
“I’m sorry, did you say clean?” Leah’s eyebrow lifted.
“Haven’t you noticed? How can a man who has his hands in car engines all day stay so spotless?” Zee looked down at her paint-smudged clothing. “Who knew beneath all that clean was so nasty?”
“Clean or not, you’re much better off.” Leah slipped on her cherry-red, down jacket that would have made Zee look like the top of an ice cream sundae. On Leah it looked perfect.
“Maybe he had a few valid points.” Zee was still looking down at her sweatshirt. Her lack of feminine assets was more than obvious. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean I’m not perfect either.”
“Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not. All I’m saying is he didn’t get much from his side of the bargain.” Zee shook her head. “You know. I’m no good with all that…that stuff.”
“You can say sex, it’s okay. Besides, you’re being too hard on yourself. All you need to do is—”
“Please.” Zee raised her hand to stop her. “The last time we had this discussion I ended up with stitches. ‘Do something he won’t expect. He’ll love it. Pull down his zipper with your teeth. It’ll make him crazy.’ I got my lip caught in his fly and bled all over him. You were right, though. All that blood made him nuts.” Zee fingered her bottom lip. “I still have the scar.”
Leah put her hand over her own mouth and grimaced. “You can barely see it.”
Zee finished packing up her stuff. “Trust me, from what I’ve learned from my vast sexual experience, I’m not missing anything.”
“You�
�re only saying that because Ed’s got you believing all his crap. You need a nice guy. Maybe a sexy, Australian guy? With wavy blond hair and a huge…”
Zee stopped her again. “No, thanks.”
“And you call me crazy.”
“We could still get together and drink wine. I have a box of chillable red in my fridge and a half a dozen Godiva G’s I’m saving for a special occasion. Or my next breakdown.”
Leah laughed. “Cheap wine and expensive chocolates. We could make that work.” She pulled the purple scrunchie from her hair. Zee watched as it fell like a mink waterfall. Okay, so she had hair envy, too. Zee knew better than to “release the beast” of her own hair without a chair and a whip.
“Saturday, then. It’s a date.”
****
Zee moved all her things into one of the school’s private studios on the first floor. Large easels were scattered around the room. In one corner was prop storage that held everything from vases with silk flowers, drapes of velvet and satin, mirrored balls, driftwood, spotlight and light deflectors. You name it. Unfinished sculptures stood wrapped in plastic. Paintings waited to be framed. Works in process awaited their artists.
Today, Zee was finishing a painting of their last model, Georgia. She was lovely woman with rich, lush Rubenesque curves. This painting showed Georgia from the back, reclined, her chin turned to one shoulder. The sweep of her back flared into the fullness of her behind. It was a classic pose with a tapestry pillow tucked at her side and a drape of purple velvet over one leg.
“Very nice,” a low voice said behind her.
Zee’s brush clattered to the floor. When she spun around, Jagger stood watching her from the doorway. “You startled me.”
“Sorry. I’m in search of Madeline’s office.” He held up a handful of papers. “Told me she needed these and I buggered off in such a rush I near forgot.”
Zee picked up her brush and wiped the tip. Evidently she hadn’t killed that canary. His smile was making her stomach flutter. “End of the hall. Can’t miss it.”
“All right then. Good ’nuf.” He nodded toward the painting. “Back to work. Maybe I’ll come back around and watch for a bit. I do fancy a sexy sheila with a fine backside.” His eyes swept over Zee, and he smiled again before continuing down the corridor.
A fine backside? Was he talking about the painting, or her? She ran a hand over one denimed cheek. He can’t be talking about me. Zee twisted around and tried to look at her butt before glaring back at the doorway. Dammit, get a grip. He’s just messing with you.
Zee picked up some more paint on her brush and tried to concentrate on her work again. A few minutes later she sensed him back in the doorway. She didn’t turn around. If he liked her backside so much, he could get a good look. She took a slow, exaggerated bend to retrieve a dropped rag. Two could play this game. She smoothed the back of her jeans as she straightened. “If you’re going to keep interrupting my work to stare at my fine backside, the least you could do is strip off your clothes and strike a pose.”
“Like that’s ever gonna happen.”
Zee whirled around. ED!
Ed Zeigler stood with his hands on his hips. “Just who the hell did you think you were talking to?” Sharp green eyes lanced her.
Zee stammered. Her brain stalled. “I-I…” She pushed her brush into the rinse cup and ran her hand over her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Y-you shouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe you’ll be nicer once you hear what I have to tell you.”
“What?” Her mind prayed. You’re leaving town?
“I found you a job.” He fussed with his sandy hair, without ever touching it. Wouldn’t want to mess up the moussed perfection.
Zee narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Try to concentrate. I. Found. You. A. Job.” Smugness rolled off him like fog.
“I heard what you said. I should have said, ‘Why? I’m not looking for a job. I have one.’” Zee pointed to the painting. “This, remember? This is my job.”
“No, I got you a real job. Todd from work, you met him, right? Well, his old lady is knocked up, and her doctor just stuck her in bed for the next four months. So she’s got this great job working over at the insurance office on Summer Street. Pay’s good. Forty hours. Decent bennies. You can type, right? Of course you can, any chimp can type. So, I told Todd to tell his preggo not to worry. You can fill in for her, and who knows, if she decides to play the pampered little housewife after she shoots out the kid, then you’re set.” Ed plucked a bit of lint off his pants. “Now who’s happy to see me?”
He pulled a business card out of the breast pocket of his navy satin jacket with the Speedy Quick logo and ED stitched in white on the sleeve. When she refused to take it, he tossed it on a nearby stool.
“I-I have no words.” Zee shook her head.
“You’re welcome.” Ed fussed with the pleat of his pants. Not that it needed fussing. It was ruler straight. Zee used to tease him that his pants always looked like he sat standing up. Even his jeans had perfect creases.
Zee picked up the business card and tried to hand it back to him. “I’m not working at an insurance office.”
“Why not? You’d be one of those administrative assistant things. Beats the hell out of being a nothing artist.”
“I’m not a nothing artist.” Heat burned up the back of her neck. Here it was again. How many times did she have to defend herself? “I’m a full-time student. I get commission work. I’m under consideration for a fellowship, and I’m earning my Master’s.”
“This gig pays thirteen bucks an hour.” He waved a hand at her painting. “You can still have your little hobby.”
Hobby? “I don’t want the job.”
He shook his head. “One of these days you’re gonna get it through your head that this art shit isn’t gonna earn you squat. I’m sure as hell not supporting you. I’m not busting my ass just so I can watch yours get bigger. You women need to earn your keep like the rest of us.”
You women? He just kept talking. His lips kept moving. Sanctimonious poison oozed out of his mouth like green slime. Zee stood stunned. It was a familiar rant, but one she didn’t have to listen to anymore. “Stop. Dear God, stop!”
“Make damn good sense, don’t I?”
Zee took a deep breath and put her hands on her hips. “No, Ed, you don’t. Why are you doing this? We’re broken up. Did you think I’d take you back if you found me a job?”
“Well, I figured you’d be appreciative, yeah.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have a job.” Zee put up her hand to stop him as he opened his mouth. “I love my work, and I’m good at it. If you knew anything about me, if you really cared about having a future with me, you’d understand that. But you don’t. You couldn’t if you believed for one second I’d be interested in this.” She tried again to give him back his card.
“That job is a golden opportunity. I can’t believe you’re not jumping at it.” His eyes narrowed. “I called in a lot of favors for you. And you’re gonna stand there and turn it down? You’re stupider than I thought.”
Zee’s hands fell to her sides. Inside she flinched. The stupid word hit its mark. “I’m not stupid, Ed. I’m an artist.” Her voice seemed small compared to his.
His face turned an unhealthy red. “Fine! Be an artist!” He air quoted the word. “You’ll end up living in a cardboard box eating out of a dumpster!”
Ed stormed off but not before his yelling had aroused the curiosity of half a dozen people. Jagger Jones included.
Zee’s face burned. Everyone was staring. Think of something, quick. She looked down the hall at Ed’s retreating back and then to the six faces looking at her and shrugged. “Everybody’s a critic. Bet he’s got Dogs Playing Poker over his mantel.”
They all laughed. All except Jagger.
Chapter Three
What a flaming arse!
Jagger watched Zee close the door to the studio. The others went their separate ways
. Was the bludger blind? Zee Lambert was an amazing artist. Even Jagger could see that.
Good for her for sticking up for herself. She might be small, but she was scrappy. He liked scrappy. Kinda cute when she was all riled up. Never seen eyes shoot silver sparks at a bloke before. He liked that, too.
Jagger smiled to himself as he walked through the corridors of the art school. Yep, he liked a lot about this new place. The job was going to be a corker. Easy way to make a nice quid, this sitting around without knickers. Bloody awesome!
Down the stairs and out into the parking lot, Jagger pulled a deep breath of cool air into his lungs. It was a great day all around. He was feeling pretty damn good. Maybe today was the day to try that phone call again. Couldn’t hurt.
He swung himself into the driver’s seat of his van and pulled on the seat belt. Moving to turn the key, Jagger saw Zee’s art critic standing in the middle of the parking lot. Just standing there. Odd duck, that one. He reminded Jagger of that weasely idiot he’d met in Akron. The one who harassed that pretty bartender for weeks, and ended up with a bullet in his thigh. Lucky for him and his future children the bartender was a lousy shot.
The guy took a few steps back toward the school. Jagger’s hand hovered over the seatbelt release. Then, as if changing his mind, the weasel turned and sprinted off toward the main road. Good move, mate. Although what Jagger would have done had the bludger gone back inside, he didn’t know. Jagger shrugged it off, turned the key in the ignition and headed his van back to his posh second job and his new digs.
Later, Jagger stood in the study of a grand house staring out the window. “That went over like a pregnant pole-vaulter.” He raked a hand through his hair, moved the phone to his other ear and looked over the trim grounds of the sprawling estate. “I should have known.” At least he tried. And he’d keep trying. That was one thing he could say for the two of them, they were both stubborn as two dogs with a bone. He scratched at the stubble on his jaw while he listened for his second call to connect.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sis, it’s me.” Jagger let the silk drape fall back across the window and paced as far as the old phone’s cord allowed.
Picture Me Naked (Stoddard Art School Series) Page 2