Beauty Shot (Hope Parish Novels Book 5)

by Dawson, Zoe

  I nodded.

  “Good,” she patted my cheek. “Easy as pie. Dante will be doing your hair.”

  Then she let me go and started to walk away. “Wait,” I said, but she disappeared into the crowd. I looked at the rack, realizing that she must have me mixed up with a real model. Maybe I’d better find Verity.

  The guy next to me gave me an amused, sidelong glance. “New to this?” he asked. He had jet black spiked hair and dark brown eyes, looked Hawaiian and was really fit, cut in fact. He was as naked as a jay, and at this point, I’d already seen enough dicks to last me a lifetime.

  I nodded.

  “Rule of thumb. Someone has a headset on, you Heed Them. Obey any and all commands.” He leaned over and said in a stage whisper, “I think they have a line straight to the underworld.”

  He flashed a smile, and I laughed. “Is this a different planet?”

  “Ha! Yeah! Break a leg, hoaloha,” he said, turning away.

  But before I could move, another guy was there, pulling my jacket off and actually taking the elastic out of my hair. I whirled, ready to deck whoever had just touched me without permission, but dropped my guard when I saw a man with short, jet black hair, expertly cut, bleached gold on the tips, and artfully moussed. He had on a flamboyant multi-colored silk shirt tucked into a pair of black pants and on his feet—red leather shoes. This had to be Dante.

  “Since this is a summer show, let’s leave your hair loose, sweetie. You’d better strip and get cracking. You don’t want the Yuminator back here.” His voice went hushed.

  “The Yuminator?”

  “Yumi. She’s the hostess and organizer for T&O—in case you don’t know, that’s Tattersall and Outlaw.”

  “It would leave a big hole in the show if a model doesn’t show up, right?”

  “Oh my, you’re from the South. Dreamy accent. Yes, no-show models are a big problem. Not showing the clothes, that loses them business.” He pulled out a brush and started to run it through my hair, then he grabbed a curling iron, and by this time I was ready to bolt. “Minnie’s gambling on everything today. Of course, that doll of a Verity, her cutie little boy, and her yummy husband, are simply divine. Minnie loves them. I’ve been doing hair for her since way before she took on her new partner. Nice addition, if you ask me. That Verity has an eye for what looks good on a man. Well, of course, look at her husband. And I will,” he said with a wink and a twinkling smirk.

  I started to unbutton my shirt and cuffs while he wrapped hair around the wand and held it. Decision made. He released it and fluffed it up, making it look more natural. When he finished with that, I pulled my shirt off and reached for the snap on my jeans. He came at me with a sponge. I jerked back and he gave me a hold-still look. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is that makeup?”

  “Yes,” he said, his brow furrowing. “It’s to keep you from looking shiny under the lights. Just light foundation. Everyone also gets eyeliner. Wasn’t this explained to you when you took the job?”

  “Um…okay,” I said, not wanting to jeopardize Minnie and Verity’s show. The bottom line was, it looked like the model who was supposed to be wearing these clothes was either late or not showing. I couldn’t let Verity down. She’d put everything she had into this. I also couldn’t let Minnie down. She’d taken a chance on Verity, a complete unknown. She’d welcomed my friend’s wife into her heart when she was alone and pregnant with Boone’s little boy Duel.

  And besides, it just so happened the clothes would fit. Perhaps the goddess of opportunity had thrown a tidbit my way.

  He applied the foundation and then outlined my eyes.

  “You’re set, handsome.”

  I shucked my jeans and grabbed up the…bathing suit?…a black mesh piece of barely-there spandex. I’d worn jock straps that had more material.

  Dante leaned in and met my eyes in the mirror. “I can already tell you’re straight, but honey, oh my, if you weren’t…” He grinned and snapped the spandex and said, “Knock ’em dead, sweet cheeks. I’m out. Ta.”

  I had to laugh. The shower groping aside, this was quite a strange and wondrous land, and maybe I should loosen up a bit. I turned as the little Asian warrior motioned to me. Yep, she was wearing a headset. I could hear music begin to roll. Looked like I was getting this party started. That’s when I saw her.

  Minnie.

  Geezus.

  This must be what it felt like to have a ton of bricks dropped on you. I gazed after her while she crossed the room and stopped at the entrance to the runway. She was sipping on one of those small bottles of champagne. Her lips, pursed and painted a bronzed color, made me want to press my mouth against hers and get that lipstick on me. She’d twisted her hair up into a perfectly disheveled pile of wild curls on top of her head, leaving her lovely throat and nape bare. For some reason the sight of her bare neck turned me on.

  She put the meaning in sleek and sophisticated in a little polka-dot dress with a tight bodice and full, short flirty skirt. Instead of black, it was a deep chocolate brown, and the dots were tan. The neckline was low, curving around and showing off the tops of her white, creamy breasts with a hint of cleavage. My whole body charged up as if there was an electrical current straight from her to me.

  She stood on sexy, three-inch chocolate heels that laced up her ankles. With confidence, a study in calm, cool, and collected in a sea of pandemonium and chaos, like an air traffic controller, she conversed with the Yuminator, who glanced at me again, impatiently.

  I’d better stop circling the landing strip…er, runway and get my skimpily clad ass over there.

  Minnie turned to see who Yumi was pointing to and gesturing at, and our eyes locked.

  Her lips parted and her eyes widened, then softened as her gaze roamed over me from the top of my head right down to my bare feet.

  I couldn’t help remembering how I’d cornered her at Outlaws just before she returned to New York. She’d answered my questions sarcastically, trying like hell to dismiss me, dismiss this current between us. But her shallow breaths, her widening pupils, and her body language all told me she was interested.

  I was quite aware there was no room in this suit for a hard-on, so I desperately thought about ice, cold, baseball statistics, and Tiffany.

  That helped.

  Marginally.

  I moved because Yumi was starting to look more frantic than aggravated. We were keeping people waiting. I threaded my way through the press of bodies and paused right next to Minnie. She followed me with her eyes, then Verity came up to her, took one look at me, and her mouth fell open.

  As soon as I hit the opening to the runway, the lights blinded me, spinning around, washing the room in a multi-hued glow. Flashes burst and sparkled, and I took a big breath. My eyes forward, I stepped out into Minnie’s glitzy and glamourous world.

  #

  Minnie

  I was frozen in the shadows of the opening to the runway, my gaze riveted on Decon West walking down the runway like he owned it. For an eighteen-year-old, he was quite confident, which only made him sexier.

  My chest was tight; I could hardly catch my breath.

  Bleeding hell. My heart was pounding.

  That was Deke, and every moment I experienced with him tightened his sensual vise around me. He looked amazing, and I’d hand only dreamed he was hiding such broad shoulders, thick, muscled back, molded chest, lean waist, and heavy, muscled thighs and calves beneath his clothes. Verity’s jock-inspired swim brief accentuated all his attributes below that rippled abdomen. He looked at ease on the runway, as if he’d been doing this his whole life, as if he was a natural.

  It wasn’t his body or his face that drew me—no, those were window dressing. It was the way he looked at me, somewhere between fierce and committed. It made my stomach jump and my heart squeeze. I didn’t want to explore all that stuff behind his eyes.

  Missy Spokes, photographer for Style & Art gave me a look that said, where have you been hiding him, you bad, bad g
irl?

  I was mortified that she might print that I was interested in such a young man. Even though, against my will, I was. I gave her a blank look and she went back to her camera. Six weeks wasn’t enough time to put up a defense against him. My pulse raced with an awful mixture of shock, wariness, and a truly horrible excitement at just seeing him again.

  I must be crazy.

  He was my downfall. Just starting out with his life. He was a bleeding freshman in college. Yeah, that would look good in the society pages.

  I looked at Verity, and there was no need to utter a word.

  “I had nothing to do with this,” she said, her shock just as acute. “But, geez, you’ve got to admit he looks awesome.”

  He got to the end of the runway, and I looked up at the screen to see a panoramic view of Deke West. He gave the crowd a self-possessed, intense gaze, the black accenting liner making the ocean blue of his eyes pop. His loose golden hair brushed his shoulders in thick waves. There wasn’t a woman out there who wouldn’t want that swimsuit for her husband or boyfriend or, if unattached, wouldn’t want to take it off Deke himself. I anticipated a lot of orders.

  With an almost imperceptible lift of the corner of his mouth, as if this was all so amusing, he spun and made his way back down the runway.

  Instead of his gaze being straight ahead, it was focused on me, and I felt my insides melt. Melt. Everything was melting.

  I had to make way for the next model, who was staring at both Verity and me. The designers didn’t usually stand at the door looking at the models. That’s what the monitors were for. I retreated just as Deke came through the opening.

  “I can explain,” he said to Verity when she grabbed his arm. His gaze swung to me and that pounding started all over again. “Hi, shug.”

  The way he said, “shug” short for sugar chipped at my resolution not to fall into his delicious trap.

  “Explain, Deke,” Verity demanded.

  “I came backstage to find you and wish you good luck, but that Yuminator woman grabbed me and thought I was a model. When I realized you had a no-show, I decided to fill in.”

  “Yuminator?” I snorted, and Yumi’s wide-eyed, surprised look narrowed into a quelling glare.

  “That’s just like you, Deke. Thank you.”

  “Do you want me to continue?”

  “Yes,” Verity said.

  “No,” I said.

  “Yes,” Yumi said, giving me a gladiator look. She ran all my shows, and she was the best in the business. I wasn’t about to cheese her off. So I didn’t contradict her, even though I wanted to.

  Deke stepped closer to me. “She’s wearing a headset, so your hands are tied,” he said. He leaned in, close to my ear, the heat of his breath feathering down my neck and tightening my nipples. He smelled like heaven, his scent making my knees weak. “You can boss me around later.”

  Yumi’s eyes narrowed even as she shooed the next model onto the runway. The woman didn’t even have to look at the monitors to know that the previous model was about halfway down.

  “If you’re going to stay,” Yumi said, grabbing his wrist and propelling him toward the racks, “get back to work.”

  “Sure,” he grinned, and I saw her—the mighty, unflappable Yumi—lose her focus for just a moment. Deke’s smile was…dreamy. “Let’s see. What comes after number 1?” He pretended to think hard as he walked backwards. Then he brightened and snapped his fingers. “Right! Number 2.” He turned and easily made his way through the crowd.

  The show got more hectic, and the pace increased, but in spite of it all, I didn’t miss watching Deke walk. Close to the end of the show, several photographers were crowding backstage, asking me about him. I tried to fend them off, but it took Yumi’s formidable presence—ha, the Yuminator, which still made me laugh—to get them out of our hair.

  I was frazzled by then. Verity and I had been up since five getting organized and overseeing everything. I wanted to get out of my heels and this dress and into more comfortable clothes, get a cup of tea, and chill for a bit.

  But that wasn’t going to happen for quite a while. I had another show, for our female wear, our Eterne and Pizazz labels, to oversee. Then there was the party—that was a must—at my apartment tonight.

  As the first show came to a close, I walked out with Verity, and we did our bow amidst clapping and cheering. As soon as we exited, I saw a flood of people racing toward the back.

  They mobbed Deke. Cameras in his face, flashes going off, such a crowd of people, all screaming questions at him. Yumi was trying to get through the crowd, then called some big chaps to try to usher the bulk of the crowd away from Deke. I couldn’t see Verity, but before I knew it, I heard Braxton’s voice…that guy knew how to clear a room. Then I saw them, Brax and Boone. They were wading through the bodies, clearing a path, and shooing people out.

  I pushed and shoved my way to Deke, and saw he hadn’t even had a chance to get dressed. I snatched up his clothes and boots. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him away from the chaos and into a back room that had served as our makeshift office. I closed the door.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, and leaned against the door, his shoulders almost touching either side of the frame. Damn he was big for a teenager…a young man. I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy his toned torso, etched with heavy muscle. He folded his arms over his wide chest, flexing his biceps, and my mouth went dry. He leaned his head back, his eyelids going half-mast as he said, “I swear, the way folks act aroun’ here, you’d think they’s never seed a half-nekkid man before.”

  Not one like him.

  “Damn, I’m just some good ol’ boy from Louisiana. Just a few weeks ago, I was a-plantin’ and sweatin’ in the sun.”

  “You have no idea,” I said. “Do you?”

  “Idea about what?”

  I shook my head. People were crazy about him, but it wasn’t just about his looks. Deke had a quality about him, an intensity and confidence that radiated from his six-four frame and knee-melting turquoise eyes.

  Oh, my damned, traitorous hormones. How was I going to have a conversation with him with only that joke of a swimsuit barely covering his attributes? I went for acerbic because it helped to keep all my ridiculous woman bits under control. “You have no one to blame but yourself,” I said. “You didn’t have to be so nice and fill in.”

  “Then you’d be short a model, Minnie. I didn’t mind.”

  “Well, it looks like you are now the IT guy.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Everyone wants to know who you are. Which makes it all the more difficult for me.”

  “For you?”

  “You know why. Don’t act innocent.”

  I paced away, the gravity of the situation hitting me. If Deke was in the limelight and I succumbed to his…I looked over at him…charms, it would be way too public. This was the one thing I had to avoid at all costs. I would not become the butt of jokes about how Angela Harding’s daughter was following in her mother’s footsteps. I wouldn’t drag T&O and Verity through that kind of mud. Well, it was clear. I couldn’t succumb to his charms or any other part of him.

  “According to you, I am a baby, so that makes me innocent.”

  I snorted, and he grinned, pushing away from the door.

  “There’s an exit to the street through here. Here are your clothes. Please get dressed.”

  I held them out in front of me like a shield, but he just took them out of my hands, dropped them on the floor and kept coming. “I called you. Several times. Your receptionist said she’d give you the messages. So either she lied to me or you got the messages and didn’t return my calls.”

  “Deke…”

  “You look good, Minnie. All fancy and such. I like it.”

  “Deke…please.”

  He was in my space, exactly where I’d wanted him from the moment I laid eyes on him in Suttontowne.

  “Please what?” he said.

  I stared up at him, so tantalizin
gly close. Touch me, hold me, talk to me in that heavenly voice.

  “You have to tell me, Minnie, because I just experienced some unwanted advances. I tried to be polite and not hurt her feelings, but finally I had to lay it out for her so she understood. Don’t be nice. I can handle rejection, but what I can’t handle is you afraid of taking the next steps because of some arbitrary numbers like the difference in our ages. I know it’s not tactful to push, but I also know there’s something between us, and I want it. But if you tell me right now to back off and leave you alone, that you’re not interested in me in the slightest, I will.”

  Damn him for being so honest. It was easier to not return his calls and avoid him. But there was no use denying the intense attraction I felt for him. He was a good guy in a bad boy package, an intoxicating mix. And doubly dangerous. To me, and to my reputation.

  “You have to know you affect me, and I won’t lie. But could we just put a lid on this right now?” I couldn’t think when he looked at me like that. I sighed. “Get dressed at least.” I was embarrassed to hear a plea in my voice.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to support Verity and Boone. I haven’t even said hey to Braxton and River Pearl. That just ain’t neighborly.”

  Could he be any cuter, any more appealing? Heat flooded me when he hooked his thumbs into our scrap of a swimsuit and started to pull it down. I caught his engaging grin as I turned around. I couldn’t look at this man fully naked and keep my hands off him.

  I heard the rustle of clothing. “I’m going to talk to my friends,” he said when I heard the door handle turn. “We’ll talk later, because you still didn’t give me an answer, and I can be patient for only so long, Minnie.”

  My stomach did a tumble. Now, that sounded like a promise.

  Chapter Three

  Emmie

  I knocked on Travis’s door, and he answered almost right away. There is always this moment when I first see Travis that I get this oh-shit feeling. Like he’s so good looking, and I think about how getting close to someone makes you soft and loose. Telling my secrets would make him think less of me. I was sure of it. But then I realized this is Travis and he’s my friend. I’m used to him, and he’s so sweet.