“Can you let me think it over for a bit?”
“April.” She draws my name out in a mildly chastising tone.
“I promise to call you by three.” That gives me a little over an hour to decide. Time to discuss it with Troy. Obviously something I’m not looking forward to.
“Okay, but make sure you do. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
“I will. Bye.”
Two hundred thousand dollars.
Two hundred thousand dollars!
I nervously rub my phone against the leg of my shorts. With that kind of money, I could give my sister the money for her bakery and help Jake get the car he’s been saving for.
This kind of money would ease the totality of our financial loss.
All you have to do is take your clothes off.
“Hey, where’d you go?”
I look up with a start, surprised to see Troy standing framed in the living room opening.
A nervous laugh escapes my lips as I hold up my phone. “Catherine called.”
He saunters over to me, head tilted to the side as he eyes me curiously. Smiling thinly, I hook my fingers through his and lead him over to the love seat. He remains on his feet when I sink onto the plush cushion.
His gaze flicks from our linked hands to my face. “Bad news?”
“Not exactly. C’mon sit,” I coax lightly and give his fingers a firm tug.
He acquiesces warily. “What’s up?”
Okay, here comes the hard part. I exhale unable to believe I have to do this again. “I think I’ve found a way to get back some of the money my family lost.”
His eyes narrow, suspicious and not jubilant the way they should be at the prospect.
“How?”
“Well, Catherine—you know my agent—well she can get me an assignment that pays two hundred grand.” It’s pointless to try to fake any enthusiasm knowing how I’m sure he’ll react so I don’t even try.
His gaze narrows even further. “With who?” he asks tersely.
Nope, this is not going to go over well.
I swallow the boulder-sized lump in my throat. “Playboy.”
The silence that follows is so thick, I feel the weight of it bearing down on my chest. Troy stares at me, his eyes unblinking, his gaze steady, and his breathing even and so very controlled.
Too controlled.
I wait for him to say something. Anything. His jaw tightens and his mouth thins ominously. When the quiet becomes too much to bear, I resort to emotional pleading. “Babe, it’s two hundred grand. I would be able to help my family. I could help you.”
“I don’t need help,” he dismisses sharply, as if he resents the very implication. “And your family—your sister—wouldn’t want you to do this for them.”
I gentle my voice, and grasp his hand. “Troy, your family lost more than mine. They’re going to take everything they can legally get their hands on. And as for my family, I wouldn’t tell them before the fact.”
Troy pulls his hand from mine and runs it roughly through his hair. “God, April, you know how I feel about this.” The last words come out a groan of his visible despair.
Stung, my spine stiffens and I smart over the way he’d just jerked from my touch. “Still? Even after everything that’s happened?” It’s on this point I’d hoped he’d be more understanding this time around.
His gaze sharpens on me. “What do you mean still? I can’t think of a single situation where I’d be okay with you posing nude for anyone but me.” He opens his mouth to speak and then snaps it shut just as quickly. After a pause that suggests he’s getting his emotions under control—flexed jaw, flared nostrils—he must have made the decision to soften his approach. “Once those pictures of you get out there, that’s it, they’re out there for good. There’ll be no turning back. It’ll be something you’ll have to live with the rest of your life.”
“Don’t you think I don’t already know that? Don’t you think I thought about that the first time?”
“Which you said no to.”
“That was before. Now they’re offering me twice as much and my sister—my whole family has no savings because of—” When I realize what I was about to say, I break off abruptly.
Troy pulls back, and not just physically. I feel the emotional distance widen to a chasm of hurt. “Why’d you stop? Go ahead and say it. Because of my father.”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes you did or you wouldn’t have said it.”
“No, it’s just that—that I thought that you of all people would understand why I have to do this.”
“Right, because he’s my father and it’s his fault. Which the way I’m hearing you means it’s also mine by association. Which means that I should support anything that you feel you need to do to make the money back, right?”
Yes!
“No.” I give my head a teeth-rattling shake. I don’t know exactly how I feel. All I know is that I want him to say he understands. I want him to support me even if I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
He silently regards me and then says, “You know the one thing you could never do very well is lie right to my face.”
I don’t bother to deny that. Maybe it was a lie and maybe it wasn’t. I don’t even know.
“I’ll get you the money,” he says. “Just give me a year.”
“Where are you going to get that kind of money?” His parents are at risk of losing everything, and his father will probably be going to jail for who knows how long.
“When I get drafted next year.”
Football. I’d forgotten all about that. “First, I could never take that kind of money from you. And Vic definitely wouldn’t. And second, I can’t base my financial decisions on that.”
In my heart of hearts, I know Troy and Zach are NFL bound. But as good as they are, it’s not a guarantee. Nothing is really. It’s certainly nothing I can count on. And I don’t want to have to count on it. I love him to death but he’s not responsible for me. Not in that way. We might be lovers and roommates, but I pay my own way. Everything is split equally, even our dates. Although he does bitch about that a lot.
“Unless I’m injured or have the shittiest season ever, I’m going to get drafted,” he says, steel determination in his voice.
“Troy, this is a sure thing. And I don’t know that I’ll ever get an opportunity to make this kind of money again.”
He sighs heavily. “Look, what do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you it’s okay? Do you want me to tell you that I won’t hate it with everything in me?”
“I’m not asking you to like it. But I’m asking you to support me in the decision I make. Is that really too much to ask?” And the truth is, he owes me this.
“Even when supporting you means either paying you lip service or keeping my mouth shut?”
Pushing to my feet, I let out an exasperated huff. “Why are you acting like this?”
He stands, bringing an end to my brief height advantage. “Like what? A guy who doesn’t want to see naked pictures of his girlfriend all over the fuckin’ place? That I care about what it might do to your future design career? That I’m terrified it’s a decision you’ll come to regret?”
Eyes narrowed, my hand flies to my hip. Okay, now I’m getting really pissed. It’s not as if I haven’t thought about all those things and more. “You’re acting as if I’m crazy to even think about taking the job. Remember, I wasn’t the one who made this mess.”
His expression shutters and his face becomes an implacable mask. He shuts down right before my eyes. “Right, it was my dad’s fault. I get it and I’m sure you’re not going to let me forget it.”
“I am not blaming you. You know that.” I refuse to let him turn this around on me.
“Yeah? Well that’s not what it sounds like.”
“Troy—”
“If you’re telling me to get my blessing, you’re wasting your time. But it sounds like you’ve al
ready made up your mind, and you’re going to do it no matter how I feel.”
He’s right. No matter what I say or do, it’s not going to change how he feels about this. While part of me understands and can’t totally blame him for it, I also have to do what I think is best. And if that means doing a tasteful spread for Playboy, there are a lot of worse ways to earn the kind of money they’re offering.
“And you know what?” he continues. “I’m glad I figured out where I stand in the big picture. I’m always going to be the son of the man who fleeced your family.”
By the time I open my mouth to issue a staunch denial, he’s already walking away. My fight-or-flight response is to go after him, call him back. But for some reason I don’t. Instead, I listen to the heavy fall of his footsteps echoing down the hall. Then I hear the front door open and close with a thud.
Troy is gone, and I’m alone with my fears and uncertainty.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Troy didn’t show up for my brother’s graduation.
And I haven’t heard one word from him since he slammed out of my house three days ago.
Not one word.
To be fair, I haven’t called him either. But still…
“Have I told you how glad I am that you’re back?” Em asks as she dumps a bag of barbecue chips in a bowl.
I manage to summon up a weak smile. “You may have mentioned it a couple times on the way back from the airport.” More like two or three, but who’s counting? I’m just glad to be back home again.
“Here, I’ll take those.” I grab the two frosted glasses of lemonade and take them back to the living room, placing them on the side table.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Em asks, turning from the small pantry with a bag of pretzels in her hand.
I shake my head. “Not with the shoot this week. I can’t overdo it with the carbs.” Yes, the Playboy shoot is in two days. I signed the contract and everything, so there really is no going back. I’m doing this.
She makes a derisive sound in her throat. “If there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about is your weight.”
I shrug. “Maybe not now but who knows when my metabolism will turn on me.”
In the living room, we make ourselves comfortable on the couch. Plopping the bowl on her lap, Em starts in on the chips while I sip my lemonade like it’s an expensive glass of white wine.
“Okay so when are you going to call him? It’s not like you guys can avoid each other.”
I slowly lower the glass from my mouth and turn to her. “Don’t you think he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“He’s hurt,” she replies softly.
“But don’t you think he should understand and support me? You, Liv and Rebecca do.”
Something flickers in Em’s eyes but it’s gone faster than a blink.
Uncertainty unfurls in my stomach. “Don’t you?”
When I’d called each of them from Illinois, they’d all said they understood why I was doing it, and they’d given me their full support.
“Of course I support you. I just don’t want you to ever regret it.”
“Do you think I will?”
“Not as long as you think you did the right thing.”
“I wish Troy felt that way.” I whisper out a sigh before taking a gulp of my lemonade.
“You said that he thinks you blame him because of his dad. You don’t, do you?” I must not have been convincing the first time she asked.
“Of course not,” I reply more sharply than I mean to. And it’s only then I hear how defensive I sound.
“But you believe that he should be more understanding because of his dad, right?” she asks, continuing to probe.
I sidestep giving a direct answer by replying, “I think he should be understanding regardless of whose fault it was. “
She nods but I’m not sure she fully believes. Em is good at hiding her true feelings behind a barely there smile. “You guys will work it out.”
Tears prick my eyes as I do my best to tamp down the panic I’ve barely managed to keep at bay over the last few days. I don’t want to lose him but I hate that he’s making me choose. And the longer the silence, the more I fear there is no going forward for us.
“I don’t know about that.” There was no official breakup but maybe that was implied when he walked out of my house. Which is honestly why I haven’t called him because I don’t want to know. I don’t think I could bear it right now if he actually confirmed that we’re over. And the longer it’s been, the more terrified I’ve become.
Despite my fears, I’m firmly set on my course of action. This is the chance in a million. The kind of chance that will probably never come my way again. And I have to take it. If for no one else, I owe my sister this after all she’s done for us.
“April, you know Troy loves you.”
“The question is how much.”
She gives me a sad but encouraging smile. “A lot.” Putting the bowl aside, Em picks up her lemonade. “I’ve been thinking about this whole situation—the stuff about your sister mainly, and I think I’ve figured out a way to get some of her money back.”
I flash her a smile of gratitude. “I already told you, Em, I’m not going to take your money and Vic definitely will not.” Em had made the offer on the car ride home. She has a little money of her own but she’d claimed she could get more from her parents.
“No no. I don’t mean like that. My mom is an agent—”
My head snaps up so hard, I think it may have cracked a bone in my neck. “A modeling agent?” No way. There’s no way that’s what she means. It must be literary or real estate or something like that.
She nods sheepishly.
I turn until we’re face-to-face. “And all this time, you’ve never said a word about it.”
She shrugs, her gaze uneasy as they dodge mine. “I rarely ever talk about my parents.”
“Well yeah, I’ve noticed that.” Hard not to. I only found out last week her father was a lawyer. And that had taken Troy’s father being arrested for fraud.
“How do you think I got into modeling?” she asks with an exasperated roll of her eyes.
I huff a laugh. “I don’t know, I guess the same way most of us do, because my mom sure isn’t an agent.”
“I was five-eight by the time I was eleven. My mother saw that as a sign.” What my friend won’t admit is that even then—I’ve seen some of the stuff she did from eleven to sixteen when she stopped modeling—she was a knockout. Still is, although she seems to do everything to play down her looks.
“What’s her name?” I’m familiar with the names of most of the reputable agents in the business.
“Patricia Watkins. But everyone calls her Patty.”
My jaw goes slack and hits the floor with a loud thud. If I wasn’t already sitting down, I’m sure I would have fallen.
“Patty Watkins is your mother?”
Em nods and drops her gaze for an instant.
“Watkins?”
“That’s her maiden name. She didn’t change it when she married my dad.”
Okay, that makes sense. But what doesn’t is why she kept that information to herself.
“And you didn’t tell me this why?”
“Because I’d rather keep them out of my life as much as I can.” Her expression is resolute, conveying how serious she is about that.
“Then why are you mentioning her now?”
“Because she’s good. And because I think she could really help your sister. As in getting her better assignments, better contracts. Danielle Tremayne is one of her clients.”
“And Kim Francis and Annette Grange.” I’m still shaking my head in shock. Patty Watkins is a top-notch modeling agent. If you land her, you’re in the big league. At one time, I would have killed for her but my modeling career, such as it is, has a self-appointed shelf life. Two more years and I’m done. I have a designing career waiting for me when I graduate.<
br />
My sister however…
“I can’t offer any guarantees, but I could probably get my mom to meet with her. What do you think? It can’t hurt, right?”
It’s not getting her money back. Only the bankruptcy trustee can do that depending on how much is left when it’s all said and done, but Patty Watkins can certainly get Vic in front of the right people. People and companies that can get her into contracts that will make what she lost seem like chump change.
“I’ll talk to her. Not sure how she’ll feel about leaving Rhonda, but…” I shrug. Changing agents is part of the business too.
“Good. I’ll talk to my mom about it tonight,” Em says with a smile.
I watch her as she resumes eating. She’s one of my best friends, my roommate and truly one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. I’ve known her for two years and it’s only now hitting me how much I really don’t know about her.
“What?” she asks self-consciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“When’s the last time I told you how glad I am that you’re my friend?” It’s the only thing I can think to say to describe what I’m feeling.
Her eyes soften. “I love you too.”
“Ditto.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I know this won’t make any sense, but I thought that the place where I’d strip naked and gaze into the camera lens all sexy and sleepy-eyed would look like a place made for sin.
Not so. There isn’t a hint of red velvet anywhere. The walls are a pristine white, and pale blue satin sheets cover the bed at the opposite side of the room. Not decadent or garish, but elegant and tasteful.
A camera is mounted on a tripod and OctoDomes of various sizes light the bed from differing angles. This studio isn’t any different from all the other studios I’ve worked in. It’s me who’s different.
Normally, this is a space where I shine, but today I feel dull and lifeless. Scared that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
You’re not doing this for you, I sternly remind myself. Vic’s future is the one at stake. Her dreams shouldn’t be dashed or put on hold after all the sacrifices she’s made for our family. Not after all she’s selflessly given to take care of us.
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