by Kim Baldwin
“Sidetracked?”
“Got my first magazine cover,” Kash supplied. “And things kind of took off for me quickly after that. I mean, I got deluged with offers, and then I met Lainie.”
Isabel nodded. “It’s a shame you didn’t pursue that project. These photographs could open some minds.”
Kash started to say she had, in fact, been thinking about picking up that long-delayed project, which was why she’d dug out the photos in the first place. But a sudden change in Isabel’s expression stopped her.
Isabel had happened to glance at Kash’s laptop. When she did, she sat up abruptly and a quick succession of reactions crossed her face—confusion, then recognition, then horror.
By the time Kash glanced back at the computer, the picture displayed was of a smiling Isabel at the Eiffel Tower.
That’s obviously not what she’s upset about. As she quickly closed the lid of the laptop, Kash berated herself for not remembering her screen saver. She’d set it to randomly display her growing folder of contest/trip photos, so it was filled with shots of Isabel. Among them were the ones she’d taken with her telephoto lens of Isabel climaxing in the hot tub. That had to have been what she had seen. Damn.
“What the hell was that?” Isabel asked, so loud that Nazim poked his head through the doorway from the kitchen.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, fine.” Kash waved him off, and he took the hint and returned to what he’d been doing.
“I asked you a question, Kash.” Isabel kept her voice down, but she made no attempt to hide her outrage. She knew precisely what she had seen, though she had only glimpsed the picture. Among others, Kash had secretly photographed her with a telephoto lens as she masturbated, capturing her with vivid clarity right as she climaxed.
Kash wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I apologize, Isabel. And I’ll delete those photos. I promise you. I shouldn’t have taken them.”
“That’s an understatement. Talk about invasion of privacy! Why did you?”
Kash shrugged and shifted uneasily on the pillow. “I’d had a lot to drink.”
The apology and explanation didn’t help. “That’s no excuse. What you did was unbelievably callous. And unimaginably indiscreet—having them on your laptop like that where anyone could see them! What were you going to do with these? Do you take pictures of the women you’ve fucked to keep as trophies?”
“No, Isabel, of course not. No one would have seen them. No one.”
Isabel got to her feet. “That doesn’t carry a lot of weight with me, Kash. You totally disrespected me and disregarded my feelings.”
“You have every right to be angry.”
“No shit. You know, Kash, you’re not one to talk about how women have used and taken advantage of you. You need to look in a mirror. How have you been treating me?”
When Kash stared down at her feet and didn’t answer, Isabel left her alone to consider what she had said. She needed some time as well. This was a new side of Kash, and she didn’t like it one bit. She couldn’t remember when she’d been this angry.
Chapter Nineteen
Kash suffered all day, feeling more claustrophobic by the minute trapped in that house with Isabel’s silent fury and her own guilt. They spoke little, Isabel spending her time with their Egyptian hosts while Kash pretended to be absorbed with her laptop. Finally, in the late afternoon, the sandstorm abated, and not long after, Nazim reappeared after a long absence, saying he and a local had managed to clean enough sand from their car’s engine for it to run again. They were able to negotiate around or through the drifts on the road back to Cairo, and they reached their hotel as the sun was setting.
“Nazim, I probably won’t need you until we leave for the airport on Friday,” she told him as he stopped to let them out. “Please make yourself available to Isabel until then, and take her wherever she wants to go. I’ll contact you if my plans change.”
“Certainly, Kash.”
Isabel exited the vehicle and sped into the hotel without further acknowledging Kash.
I don’t blame you. Not one bit. It was a shitty thing to do. And I’d been treating you badly even before that. Isabel’s disappointment and rage made Kash’s heart clench. She hated hurting her. Hated it. But maybe it’s for the best. You’re much better off without me. And now you know it. Yes, it’s best for both of us.
Even as she thought the words, she knew they were a lie. For her, anyway. She could never believe she was better off without Isabel. But to believe that there might be any future together? That was still too terrifying to really contemplate.
Rasui, the concierge, intercepted her before she reached the elevators. “Miss Kash! Have you seen your messages?”
“Messages?”
“Yes. You received several urgent telephone calls last night and this morning. The messages are in your suite.”
“Thank you for the heads-up.”
More than a dozen slips had been pushed under her door. Eight were from news organizations, one was from her assistant Ramona, three were from Miranda, and two were from Stella England, the hottest young actress in Hollywood and the current favorite cover girl of tabloids around the world. All asked her to call them as soon as possible. Miranda, because she had phoned three times, got the first call.
“It’s Kash. What’s going on?” she asked as soon as the publisher came on the line.
“Kash! Where the hell have you been? Did Stella England get in touch with you?”
Kash fingered the message slips with Stella’s name on them. One call had come in the previous afternoon, the other this morning. “I have two calls here from her, yes. But I haven’t returned them yet. I just got in. What’s this all about, Miranda?”
“Stella’s publicist issued a press release last night. She’s getting married tomorrow, somewhere in Europe, but she won’t say to whom or where or anything.”
“I didn’t even know she was seeing anyone,” Kash mused aloud.
“No one did. No one has a clue who he is. Here’s the catch, Kash. She says she’ll only let you photograph this secret wedding.”
“Me? Did she say why?” Kash knew the reason. She had shared a memorable night with the actress not six months ago, but she doubted Stella would have shared that information.
“Not really. Only that she trusted you would do a great job, without being intrusive.”
“So that’s why I have all these messages from the networks.” Kash flipped through the rest of the slips.
“Only the first of many, I’m sure. You haven’t gotten more than that only because most of them don’t know how to reach you. I know you have to do this, Kash…but since you are leaving a job you’re doing for me, how about you give Sophisticated Women first crack at the photos, if Stella agrees? We can still get one on next month’s cover.”
Kash fell silent, her mind racing. Of course she had to do this; it would be a big coup professionally, and the rights to the photos would be worth a lot of money.
It was also the perfect opportunity to get away from Isabel for a while and get her shit together. And maybe not for just a while. Maybe this is my opportunity to make a clean, quick break. Better and easier that way. And with Isabel feeling like she does about me right now, she probably won’t be disappointed to see me leave.
“Kash?” Miranda repeated. “Kash? You there?”
“I’m here. Miranda, we may be able to work something out. Here’s what I have in mind…”
*
Isabel returned to an empty suite as well. Gillian had left a message saying she and Ambra were out sightseeing, so Isabel showered and changed, intending to head out, too. But she hung around the suite a while, pacing, still furious with Kash, unable to get the photos she’d seen on the laptop out of her mind. When she discovered that the knock at her door belonged to the object of her musings, she started to launch into her again—until she noticed Kash’s carry-on bag at her feet.
“Hey,” Kash said.
&nbs
p; “Going somewhere, I see.”
“Yes,” Kash confirmed. “I know you’re still angry. And you have every reason to be. But I’d like to talk to you a few minutes. May I come in?”
“All right.” She stepped to the side to admit Kash, who dropped her bag just inside the door, then proceeded into the sitting area.
“Stella England’s getting married,” Kash said as she settled onto one end of the couch. “Tomorrow morning, on one of the Greek islands. She’s giving me an exclusive on photos of the ceremony.”
“Stella England?” Isabel repeated. “Who’s she marrying?”
Kash didn’t answer immediately. That little tidbit was worth a lot of money, and she knew that Stella trusted her not to do anything that might tip off the press before she was ready. But she also knew she could trust Isabel. “You can’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone, even Gillian.”
“I won’t.”
“Frankly, I can’t believe she’s kept it a secret this long. She’s marrying Joshua Greenbriar.”
“Joshua Greenbriar? The director? Isn’t he like…what, thirty years older than she is?”
“Something like that. And you know what? I don’t think it’s a big publicity gimmick. She sounded like she sincerely loves the guy.”
“Well, then, more power to her, I say. I’m all for following your heart, wherever it leads you.” As upset and angry with Kash as Isabel was, she didn’t welcome the news Kash was leaving. Taking the hot-tub photos of her was extremely insensitive, but Kash had been apologetic, and Isabel wanted to believe her regret was sincere. She just needed time to calm down and forgive Kash. And she wanted Kash to think hard about what she had done. So maybe a little time apart isn’t so bad. It will give us both time to get over things. But it will also be time taken away from our precious nine days left together.
“Somehow I knew you’d feel that way,” Kash replied. Ever the romantic, Isabel. Love knows no boundaries and all that. I hope you never change. The world would do a lot better with more pie-eyed optimists, like you, and fewer cynics, like me.
“So how long will you be gone? Will you get back before we leave for the Bahamas?”
“That’s the thing…” Kash began, avoiding her eyes.
The pause that followed was so long that Isabel filled in the blanks herself. “You’re not…coming back?”
“The happy couple is going to drop out of sight for a while for the honeymoon, so the media frenzy will center around me, I’m afraid,” Kash confirmed. “The only guests will be family, and they won’t be talking. So I’ll be busy for several days afterward, doing interviews and figuring out who gets what photos.”
“You won’t be able to make it to the Bahamas at all?” I’m never going to see you again, am I? The realization felt like a punch to the stomach.
“No, I’m afraid not. As you know, Miranda is sending a correspondent to meet you in Nassau to interview you about the trip. I’ve asked her to book a local photographer to tag along, so we’ll have pictures of every stop for the layout.”
Isabel frowned. “I don’t care about the magazine, Kash. I keep telling you that. But I hate it that you’re apparently telling me we won’t ever see each other again. I may be pissed as hell at you at the moment, but I…I’m not ready to say good-bye.”
I know exactly how you feel. Although she had firmly resolved to deliver the news and then leave, all nice and clean and tidy, Kash couldn’t do it. She knew what she should do, but her mind and heart and body wanted nothing more than to take Isabel in her arms, beg her forgiveness, and tell her that good-bye was a word she never wanted uttered between them. Jesus, will you listen to yourself? Pretty powerful stuff you have there, Isabel, if your romanticism can even rub off on me.
She forced herself to her feet. “Ready or not, as they say. I have a plane to catch.”
Isabel rose, too, and they faced each other without speaking for several seconds before Kash stepped to Isabel to kiss her good-bye. She knew Isabel might likely push her away, but she had to take the chance. She couldn’t resist one more press of lips before they parted.
Tentatively, Kash brushed her mouth over Isabel’s and felt her heart swell in her chest, the grief of loss already acute.
Isabel pulled back, but only a few inches. And her voice, when she spoke, was as gentle as Kash’s mouth had been. “I’m still angry with you.”
“I know.” Kash kissed her again, and when Isabel responded by running her tongue along the contours of Kash’s mouth, then nipping at Kash’s lower lip, Kash’s control dissolved. She opened her mouth and met Isabel’s tongue with her own, deepening the kiss as she pulled their bodies tight together.
Isabel slid her hands around her neck, and they remained locked together, pouring all of their long-held passion into that kiss, until they had to break apart to breathe, bodies shaking crazily, hearts hammering in sync.
“I’m still angry with you,” Isabel repeated as she clung to her, breathing heavily against her neck. “But you know I’ll forgive you.”
“I won’t forget you.” The most unexpected thing of all, in this whole alien world that she’d been inhabiting since Isabel had entered her life, were the tears Kash fought. She considered tears a weakness, so they gave her the courage she needed to gently extricate herself from Isabel’s embrace. No one, not even Isabel, would see her cry.
She picked up her bag and left before Isabel could say any more, and she never looked back. Not once. She didn’t have to. Isabel’s face would be vividly imprinted on her mind forever, every bit as much as the taste of her lips.
Chapter Twenty
“Anything yet?” It was the third time Gillian had called. She was nearly as anxious as Isabel to see the October issue of Sophisticated Women.
“No. Nothing. The mail finally came, and it wasn’t there. But UPS doesn’t usually get around this way for another hour or two, so that’s still possible. Don’t know about FedEx or any of the other delivery services.”
“I wish you’d asked Miranda how she was sending it,” Gillian complained.
“I didn’t talk to her. I just got an e-mail saying she was sending me an advance copy. She didn’t say how.”
“What are you wearing to this thing next week? And do you think Kash will be there?”
“One of my new cocktail dresses, not sure which yet. And I have no idea. You know I haven’t heard from her.” Not one damn word in two and a half months. Not one. Like you don’t even owe me the common courtesy of an explanation why. I guess you didn’t hear a thing I said.
“Oops, customer. Gotta run. Call you about dinner later.”
“Okay, Gill.” Isabel hung up and stared at her computer terminal. It was displaying pictures of Kash in a slide show—some that she and Gillian had taken, and others she’d gotten off the Internet. Such a masochist you’ve become. You need a new screen saver. And you need to get out more. Isabel was almost as angry with herself as she was with Kash.
The fact that Kash hadn’t called or written since Cairo should have been ample reason to let her go and move on, never mind the hot-tub photos and her cold distance after their sexual encounters. Just more evidence I meant nothing to her. She’s a player, and that’s all she’ll ever be, she reminded herself. She won’t allow herself to get emotionally involved.
But try as she might to push Kash from her mind, she’d been unable to. She’d glimpsed the vulnerable woman inside that cold exterior, and her heart believed that something very real and deep and mutual had been developing between them. Nothing, not even Kash’s silence since Cairo, had been able to quash that belief.
Where are you, Kash? Why haven’t you called? Could I have been so very wrong about you? Isabel had been searching online nearly every day for some hint of what Kash was up to, but had found nothing at all about her in the news or tabloids after all the hoopla about the wedding photos had died down.
Her only foreseeable opportunity to see her again would be at the bash next week that Miranda had invited
her to. A party at a chic Manhattan restaurant to celebrate the release of the issue with her picture on the cover.
I still wish I knew what that phone call was all about. Miranda had called her not long after they’d gotten home from the Bahamas, ostensibly to welcome her back from the trip. They’d had a nice chat, and at Miranda’s urging, she had shared a few stories about some of the things she’d seen and experienced, careful to avoid anything she didn’t want to end up in the magazine.
Miranda had been saying good-bye when she threw one last question at Isabel as though it was an afterthought.
“Say, Isabel, I won’t be offended if you answer this the way I think you will. But Kash mentioned that you didn’t want to be on the cover. She said you didn’t want this whole magazine thing at all. Is that right?”
“Gosh, Miranda. I wish she hadn’t told you that. I don’t want to seem ungrateful for all the wonderful things that winning your contest has done for me.”
“So it is true,” Miranda said, her warm tone conveying that she was perfectly okay with the admission.
“Yes. It is. I have no desire to be famous. But I know you’ve promoted this and invested a lot of money in it and everything. Kash explained.”
“Isabel, I’m going to fax you a waiver to sign,” Miranda said. “It essentially will say you’re okay with us not living up to our promise to put you exclusively on the cover and make you the subject of our feature article. I’ll try to scale back our coverage, if possible. No promises. But this waiver ensures you can’t come at me later and complain you didn’t get everything you won. Okay?”
“Sure. Send it over. I’d appreciate anything you could do. That would be great!”
“No promises,” Miranda repeated.
She had faxed it to Isabel that day, and Isabel had returned it, signed, within the hour.
Maybe it won’t be so bad. She dreaded the media attention she would likely get when the magazine hit newsstands. Her mind flashed back to the rude, probing questions the tabloid reporters had shouted at Kash during the kickoff press conference. And worst of all had been her nightmare of a fall. But despite her anger and better judgment, she knew she’d suffer it all again for the chance to see Kash. Because no amount of time, or distance, or return to her normal routine had changed how much she thought about Kash. Day and night. Waking and dreaming. Even Kash’s silence couldn’t deter her.