Paige’s mouth fell open. “Did she just call me a hooker?”
“No,” Christine hurriedly replied. “Dr. Weiss only meant that we provide an exceptional service. We want to bring you that special someone, that one-in-a-million guy you might not have found on your own.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Helga said, and made a clicking noise with her false teeth. She glanced at Paige’s application, giving it a quick read through. “Now, young lady, do come into my office. I want to get to know you better, so that we can hook you up with someone with your discriminating tastes.”
Paige didn’t look too happy as she followed Helga. Christine and Jenny exchanged worried glances.
“Is she going to be this rude to all of our clients?” Jenny whispered.
“I can hear you,” Helga said, and closed her door.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christine was waiting in the lobby of her office building when Derek arrived on Thursday to pick her up. She had dressed with extra care that morning, choosing a pretty Dolce & Gabbana skirt, a fitted white blouse and Manolo Blahnik sling-backs. Her hair was freshly highlighted, and the long layers gave her a youthful, bouncy look. She felt bouncy, too, and she didn’t need to know why.
Derek seemed to appreciate her new bounciness, because his eyes widened when he saw her, and he let out a low whistle.
“You sure you’re not doing the photo shoot? You look incredible.” He kissed her cheek. And then raised an eyebrow. “And edible,” he whispered, dropping another kiss on her neck.
She pulled away. “Behave yourself, Romeo.”
“Aw. You’re no fun.”
“Sure I am. After all, I agreed to go with you today for moral support.”
“That’s true. I guess I should count my blessings.” He winked at her. “So where are we going?”
“The Grayson Agency on PGA Boulevard.”
The photo shoot was as much fun for Christine as it was a pain in the ass for Derek. They were doing the preliminary shoot in the studio. Follow-ups would be on location. The studio was a cavernous room, full of people and cameras and makeup stations. Several shoots were going on at the same time, and young female models were running around half-dressed. No one seemed to notice. Except Derek, of course.
But then it was his turn to get made-up and be in front of the camera. Christine could tell he hated posing in front of her, and the kindest thing she could do was leave, but she was enjoying teasing him too much. And watching him. He was a very watchable guy.
Especially when they had him take his shirt off. She could swear the poor guy blushed.
She grew a little warm as well, and thought it might be a good time to step outside. She stopped at an outdoor canteen to pick up coffee and donuts. When she returned to the studio, she found a shirtless Derek sitting on a stool, laughing with the pretty photographer, who was running her fingers through his hair. What the hell was she doing? His hair had looked just fine. Now she was shaking it up, giving him a just-out-of-bed look. He did look awfully sexy. Damn him.
“Everybody having a good time?” she called out. She walked directly over to them, noticing that sitting on the stool put Derek’s head level with the photographer’s ample breasts. Not only ample, but artificially enhanced, she might add.
She wondered how a little hot coffee would look on them.
Derek grinned. “Yeah, Leah was just telling me some jokes to help me relax. I said a couple of beers would do the trick.”
Christine held out a coffee. “How about this instead?”
“Not right now. Leah wants to take some more shots.”
Leah smiled at him, then stepped away to make some lighting adjustments. Which was what she was supposed to be doing, Christine thought, instead of having fun with the model.
She knew she should be happy that Derek and the photographer had established some rapport. It would make this shoot go more smoothly, as well as future ones. If she wanted to use Derek again. Maybe next time she’d use a younger man. Why not? Youth was good, wasn’t it?
Look at Leah. She wasn’t much more than twenty, twenty-five tops. She was confidently giving Derek verbal instructions, as well as posing him in various ways. She touched him a lot, Christine noticed. Always used her hands to reposition him. She wouldn’t have thought that would be allowed.
Christine sipped her coffee and nearly burned her tongue. Damn, it was hot.
Hot. Why did Derek have to look so incredibly hot? Why couldn’t he look like other forty-year-old men and have a few pounds of flab around his middle? She wouldn’t have minded. She’d still use him anyway.
He was looking more at ease than he had the first hour. He seemed to have a natural flair for this kind of thing. Leah would ask him for an expression, and in the blink of an eye he had the look.
The lights were flashing, the camera was whirring, and even as a bystander Christine could feel the excitement and energy flying around. Derek and the camera were communicating on some subliminal level, and she didn’t need to see the pictures to know they were good. Then suddenly it stopped. Leah stopped taking pictures and Derek stretched and yawned. It was like a switch had been turned off.
“All done?” she asked, walking toward them.
“That’s it for today,” Leah said. “He was great. I can’t believe this was his first shoot. He’s a natural.” She leaned forward, and her large boobs swung perilously close to Derek’s face. She ran her fingers through his hair, combing it back from his eyes.
Just in time for him to get an eyeful.
Christine snapped. “Good,” she said. “If you’re done, Derek, I think you should put your shirt back on so we can leave.”
“When will they be ready?” he asked Leah.
“Give us a few days. I’ll call when they’re done.”
“Excellent. Thank you,” Christine said, playing the happy client. “I think it went well today.”
“Yes. We’ll shoot on location tomorrow. I want to do some shots at the beach.”
I bet you do, Christine thought, envisioning both Derek and the photographer in swimsuits, with all that bare flesh exposed. “Don’t you have enough to work with?”
“Sure, we do, but I thought…”
“I changed my mind.” Not only would an on-location shoot be expensive, she didn’t like the way Derek was responding to Leah. He seemed to have forgotten he wasn’t interested in women. Maybe she would have to remind him about that on their drive home.
Derek pulled his shirt over his head. “I thought you wanted some on-location scenes?”
“No need. I saw enough to know that we can use what we’ve got.” She turned away, expecting him to follow her.
He didn’t. Instead, he continued talking to the photographer.
“I enjoyed working with you today, Leah. Maybe I can get the boss-lady to change her mind.” His dimples flashed as he winked at the young woman. He pseudo-whispered, “She’s kind of moody. I’ll work on her.”
Christine marched outside, every inch of her bristling. A moment later Derek came through the door, whistling. She waited impatiently for him to unlock the doors of his pickup, and shook off his offer to help her in. She clambered in, her skirt riding up and showing off more leg than could really be considered appropriate. Derek wisely said nothing.
“Well, you certainly seemed to hit it off with that girl,” she said as he pulled out onto the street.
“What girl?”
“Leah. Was there more than one?”
“No, I guess not. Yeah, she was teaching me the ropes.”
“You must be a fast learner, cowboy.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means nothing. I just couldn’t figure out how you could be so natural in front of the camera when you were so reluctant to do it at first. Seemed to me you were enjoying it just fine.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do? Slouch around and act like an asshole?”
She didn’t say anything because if she did, she
knew it would be the wrong thing. Besides, what was bugging her anyway? It was good that the photo shoot had gone well, and that he’d taken to it like a duck to water.
Wasn’t it?
“So why are you mad? You’re always mad about something,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I am not.” She pulled her lips back in a pretense of a smile. “See, I’m smiling. I’m not in the least bit mad. Why should I be? You did a great job. Miss Boobs said so.”
“Ah, so that’s it.” He grinned at her. “You’re jealous.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.” He winked at her. “There we go again. Acting like two-year-olds.”
“Your fault.”
“Is not.”
They laughed and things got better after that. He pulled up in front of her home and stopped her as she started to open her door.
“Christine?”
“Yes?” She turned to face him.
“Come here.” He took her shoulder and gently pulled her closer. “I’m sorry, but I have to kiss you right now.”
Her eyes opened wide. She looked into his eyes, thinking she’d never known brown could have so many shades in it. Sometimes they were amber, other moments she could see golden flecks. But when his temper flared, they looked as dark as a Hershey bar. “Why?”
He smiled. “Because I want to, and so do you.”
His cockiness should have put her off. Instead, she found it endearing. Still, in a feeble attempt to keep her wits about her, she opened her mouth to protest. And was instantly silenced by his lips. He kissed her long and hard, and she stopping fighting her renegade desire and enjoyed the moment. He was a wonderful kisser, and it didn’t matter that she couldn’t catch her breath. Who needed to breathe when she was being kissed like this?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Christine walked into her house, still slightly dazed. Why had she let him kiss her? And why, oh why, had she enjoyed it so much? Going to bed with him had been a bad idea. She had been quite content without any sexual activity in her life. Now she was primed, and every look that passed between them, every accidental brush of his hand, all seemed like foreplay.
This would never do. She had to keep their relationship on a professional level. He was the model for her dating service. The hunky guy who would reel in hundreds of hungry young women. She did not, repeat not, want to get emotionally attached to him. Hell, the guy was too young for her—and too good looking. If and when she got back into the dating pool, she’d be looking for older men who would regard her as a catch. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about every little age spot and wrinkle, and gravity setting in, and things hanging a lot lower than before.
Besides, Derek didn’t want a relationship. He’d said so. And he had two teenage boys at home who needed his time and attention. She had a daughter who was going back to school, and a mother who might need financial support.
A purely sexual relationship was out of the question, falling in love even more so. Maybe one day, a long time from now, she may want companionship and love, but it would not be like the love she had known before. She would hold onto her heart, and not give all of herself. It might not be fair, it might not be right, but that was the only way she would chance it again. Loving somebody with complete abandon was for the young and the foolish, and she would never be that vulnerable again.
So she needed to behave like a responsible adult, not like some hormonal teenager who couldn’t get enough.
* * *
Christine had changed into her golf clothes and was ready to go to the range when Nicole waltzed in, all smiles.
“Hi, Mom. You’re golfing?”
“Thought I’d hit some balls for a while. What are you looking so happy about?”
“I did it, Mom. I enrolled at Florida Atlantic. I spent the last couple of hours speaking with counselors, and they’re having my transcript and credits sent over from Miami State. They said I could start in January, and the best part is that I can do most of the classes online.” Nicole grinned. “I’m so excited. Who ever thought I would be this keen on going back to school?”
“Oh, honey, I’m so proud of you.” She threw her arms around her daughter in a big hug. “I’m absolutely thrilled!”
“Thanks.” Nicole leaned forward, peering closely at her. “Mom? How come your lipstick is smeared? If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you’d been making out.”
Christine laughed and touched her lips. “Ha. As if that’s likely to happen.”
“Well, why not? You look great. I think you’re actually getting prettier and prettier. You sure there isn’t a man in your life? You have that glow.”
“I do not. When would I have the time to meet a man?” She picked up a black marker, two pink crystal golf balls and marked them with a big C. She had to do something to avoid eye contact.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. But things are going to change once this dating service really takes off.”
“Not for me,” Christine said firmly. “But when you’re ready, maybe I can find you a really nice guy.” She shot a quick glance at her daughter. “You aren’t ready, are you? I mean, after three years of being with one guy, you probably need a break in between.”
Suddenly, Nicole’s face lost its bright-eyed look, and she fell onto the sofa, thoughtlessly plopping her sandaled feet on the armrest. Christine saw the dirt on the bottom of Nicole’s shoes and knew it was going to drop onto her off-white sofa. “Nicole…your shoes?”
Nicole rolled her eyes, but kicked her sandals off, letting them fly. “You’re right about needing a break. I certainly don’t want to meet anybody.”
“I understand. You have so much going on with school and helping me out at Champagne that you won’t have time for dating right now.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She looked up. “Brett’s kind of put me off dating anyway. He was such a jerk, you have no idea.” Nicole’s eyes flashed, and her mouth looked pinched. “Living with him for the past year was hell. I should have ended it sooner. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
Christine nodded. She’d been wondering that too. “Sometimes you get into a relationship and it becomes hard to get out of. You get trapped, and the other person makes you feel guilty, and you stay for all the wrong reasons.”
“That’s pretty much how it was.” Nicole chewed her bottom lip. “Changing the subject, I want you to know that I’ve got some ideas for your website. It looks good, but it’s a little…ordinary. I could come to the office sometime and show you what I’m thinking. One idea, once you get some clients together, is a slide show featuring people who met through Champagne.”
“That’s a thought. Why don’t you come to the office with me on Monday?”
“Great. I would like that. Well, I think I’ll go for a run while you’re out golfing. Gotta keep in shape.”
Christine watched Nicole stride off to her bedroom, presumably to change clothes. She put on her suntan lotion and her visor, then headed to the golf cart garage. Enough daylight remained, and she was in the mood to hit some balls.
A few minutes later she was at the driving range. She stretched and picked up a chipper. Did a few practice swings. Placed the ball on a nice mound of grass and executed a perfect swing. The ball flew high in the air and landed sixty yards straight ahead next to the pin.
Discipline and patience, timing and balance, and a smooth delivery guaranteed results. She put another ball on the mound of earth and set up.
A slow backswing, a simple turn of her hips, and swoosh, the ball flies into the air and falls near its target. Perfect. Easy game. Why couldn’t her life have been so simple?
She had done everything right. She’d been a good daughter, a good wife, a good mother, but her life had unraveled just the same. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten pregnant when she was twenty, or married Jim, she would have achieved something greater in her life. Something that would have made her parents proud.
Her brother Kevin had been her parents’ pride and joy,
and although they loved her too, Christine had always known she wasn’t the favorite. Kevin had been perfect in every way. Bright, handsome, athletic, and yet sweet and charming too. How could one not love someone like that? Christine had adored him as much as anyone else.
There had been times when she’d been hurt by her father’s lack of interest in her less than stellar achievements, like making a B on a math exam, or getting only the second lead in a high school play, and she’d wished he would take more notice of her. She had wanted the praise that Kevin got, and it shamed her now that she had been envious of him.
Christine put her pitching wedge away and picked up a seven Hybrid. She started hitting balls past the hundred yard pin, watching them go straight and long.
If she had been better at golf, had practiced more, maybe she could have gone on tour. Her father had always bragged about her to his friends that she would be the youngest player to win the US Open. But she’d dropped out of college to have Nicole, and she became a hairstylist. No bragging rights there.
After Nicole was born she never golfed with her father again. She used the excuse that she had a baby to take care of, and he used the excuse that his arthritis was acting up. But the truth was she was a disappointment.
Luckily he hadn’t been around to see the mess she’d made of raising her daughter. Nicole had turned rebellious when she was sixteen, around the time he had his first heart attack. She’d gone Goth for a while, wearing only black, including her makeup, and had one eyebrow pierced, as well as her lip. Christine had wanted to ground Nicole and force her to take those horrible piercings off her face, but Jim had defended Nicole’s right to look the way she wanted.
Luckily, that phase had lasted only a year, and she had been a perfect daughter for awhile. Until Brett came along. Christine had tried to tell her daughter how important an education was—to insist that she get, at the minimum, a four-year college degree, but her daughter had looked at her and Jim and said, why?
Christine had no answer. Both she and Jim had made good money in their chosen fields, and neither had finished college. That was not the example she had wanted for her only child.
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