MANIC: Rook and Ronin, #2

by JA Huss

  Ford actually gets up and walks out.

  I look back over at Spencer and he throws up his hands and turns back to his supplies. "Just get naked, OK? Twist up your hair and we'll get started."

  I take a deep breath and look over at the camera people, then say an internal fuck it and whip my shirt off right there. What's the point? They're gonna see me naked whether I strip in that pathetic excuse of a dressing room or right here in front of them. I watch them as I do it too, daring them to even snicker. My look keeps them professional and when I glance back at Spencer he's laughing at me.

  "You are something else, I swear. OK, first up is the white bikini." He says this last part loud, like he wants Ford, who is all the way across the room talking to Director Larry, to hear him. "White, so we can paint over it," he yells. "And not have to wash it off."

  Spencer and I do a collective eye roll and try not to laugh.

  "OK, Rook, just come stand here in the middle of the sheet." Spencer checks for Ford and drops his voice to a whisper and winks at me. "It might get a bit personal, but just know, I'm a licensed professional, Rook."

  "Where have I heard that before? Oh, yeah, Ronin, when he was teaching me to shampoo his hair."

  Spencer gives me a stupid look and I shrug. "Never mind."

  Spencer's got his paints and brushes all laid out on a rolling cart this time. He catches me eyeing them and explains. "No airbrush today, right? It's all detail. So it goes a little slower at first, but the bikinis are so small, it won't be bad this time."

  "This time?"

  "Yeah, well," he says, kneeling down in front of me. "The other outfits aren't so easy. I've got something spectacular planned for Sturgis, that job will take all day, in fact we'll probably have to get up in the middle of the night in order to have it ready for the public presentation, which is later in the afternoon."

  I think about this for a minute, trying to picture what that last shoot will be like, but even though I've seen all sorts of pictures of Sturgis, I've never been there before. And even though yesterday was pretty long, I can't imagine what it might take for Spencer to actually paint me all night long and into the morning.

  His paintbrush on my lower stomach snaps me out of my daydreaming and I gasp as he drags it across my skin. His face is like right there. He's practically breathing on my sensitive little button!

  "Sorry," he says, looking up at me. "There's just no good place to start this project. It's here, your ass, or your tits. Might as well get the hard part out of the way, right?"

  I say nothing. Because honestly, I really didn't think this through.

  I twist my head a little and find Antoine off to the side, his hand over his mouth trying to hide a frown. "Hey, Antoine. What's up?"

  He stays right where he is, which is really too far away to have a normal conversation. "Ronin called. He can't reach you, he said. He wants you to call him right away."

  I look down at Spencer but he's practically got his head buried in my girly parts, and if he cares that Ronin wants me to call him, he doesn't show it. I shrug a little, which makes Spencer grunt at me to stand still. "Can you dial the phone and hand it to me?" I'm secretly dying to talk to Ronin, it's been days and even though I was the one who said things should stay casual, I miss him. Like bad.

  Antoine shakes his head. "No, not now. After we finish the first shoot, I'll call him back and tell him." And then Antoine walks out.

  "Well," Ford says, from behind me. "Here we go."

  "What's that mean?"

  "Ignore that dickhead," Spence says, clearly irritated. "He's just jealous."

  "Rook," Ford says, grabbing a chair and positioning himself off to the side, just out of my peripheral vision. "You do realize as soon as Ronin sees what's going on here, he's gonna be pissed? You do realize this, right?"

  "Are you trying to make me feel bad on purpose?"

  "Ford," Spencer growls, "I fucking told you to get the fuck out of here. No more talking to Rook, follow your own goddamn rules for once, will ya? She's just doing her job and if Ronin has a problem with it, he can take it up with me."

  "Why would Ronin have a problem with it? It's not a secret." I don't get this weirdness going on with Ford and Spencer. "He's OK with the job, Ford, we talked about it."

  "Did you talk about having Spencer between your legs drawing bikini bottoms?"

  Spencer rushes Ford and they both crash through the flimsy partition pretending to be a dressing room. Spencer throws a punch that lands squarely on Ford's jaw, and a split second later Ford is back up on his feet and he pounces on Spencer. They grapple on the floor, landing punches and doing weird shit with their legs, trying to get the upper hand. All the crew on the other side of the room and Team Spencer start pulling them apart. Team Rook keeps filming.

  They both stand there, breathing heavy, red-faced and lips bleeding. "Out!" Spencer growls. I've never pictured Spencer mad before, but right now he's scaring the shit out of me. He looks like he might kill Ford.

  When I look over to Ford, he's the complete opposite, his tie a little crooked, but generally, he looks calm. Spencer's anger barely touches him.

  I think I have a new respect for Ford.

  Antoine and his team enter just then and he is roaring, not really in French or English, but a strange mixture of both. He's talking to Spencer and the only word I really catch is stop.

  I look over to my team and they look just as scared as I feel.

  This studio has one rule. Just one. And that rule involves the word stop.

  "Are we done for today?" I ask Antoine.

  "Yes. Put your clothes on, go home, and call Ronin. Now."

  I do as I'm told. Fuck these guys. I don't know why every single fucking time the men around here get in a fight everyone always acts like it's my fucking fault. I stomp away like a baby, my team doggedly following, then leave them all outside when I go back inside my apartment. My phone is still on the night table next to my bed, and when I wake it up I have seventeen missed calls.

  No voicemails.

  I press redial for Ronin's phone and he answers on the first ring.

  "Shit, Gidget, it's about time!"

  "Sorry, I keep forgetting to keep it on me. You're never gonna believe what just happened!"

  "Let me guess, Ford and Spencer?"

  "Yeah, how'd you know?"

  "We have history, that's all. I don't even know why Spencer took this gig, he knows Ford will just piss him off."

  "Antoine called stop, so I guess we're done for today."

  "Well," he laughs. "That's a first. What'd they do? Get in a brawl?"

  "Yes, Spencer charged him like he was Juggernaut. He kinda scared me, Ronin."

  Ronin breathes out slowly on the other end and I can't really tell if he's frustrated with me, or just trying to remain calm. "He'd never hurt you, Rook, OK? He never would."

  "Well, I just want this contract to be over. Can't you call Antoine and tell him to let Spencer finish these outfits today?"

  I can hear Elise talking in the background, then a muffled noise, like Ronin's covering up the phone. "Yeah, OK. I'll have Elise call him. We won't be home until Sunday, Gidge, so just hang tight, OK? Clare's not doing well, she needs us right now. She really needs Antoine, to be honest, but he's got the contract. It's just really fucked up."

  Sunday? I privately pout, then immediately feel guilty because Clare is physically sick trying to get over her addiction and I'm just caught up in my own stupid decisions. "Don't worry about me, OK? She's way more important than this job."

  There's a loud knock on the door and I peek down the hallways to see who's there. "Ford's at my door, I guess I better go."

  "All right, Rook, call me before you go to bed, OK? Antoine said he's taking you to dinner tonight, so don't let Ford or Spencer talk you into anything."

  "OK."

  "I miss you real bad, ya know that, right?"

  I smile into the phone as Ford's knocking becomes pounding. "I miss you a lot, too
. I really do."

  "See ya Sunday. Love you."

  I sit there, my mouth hanging open, wondering if I'm supposed to say it back. But before I can decide, I hear the line click off. He didn't wait to find out.

  I let out a long breath.

  Then smile.

  I'll be ready next time.

  Chapter Twelve - ROOK

  "What can I do for you, Ford?"

  He runs his hand through his hair and grimaces. "I'd just like to apologize, I was out of line. I'll keep my mouth shut from now on. Antoine has revoked the stop order. We can proceed."

  Well, that's not what I was expecting, but nonetheless, just looking at him is pissing me off. "You know what, Ford? I don't really care why all you guys hate each other, I really don't. But I'm just trying to make a living. This is a job, Ford. A job I actually need, or else I wouldn't be doing it. So if you assholes can't control yourself, just don't hang around, OK? Because the next time you guys fight in front of me, I'm calling a lawyer to see how difficult I can make your life, you got it? Maybe it's too late to quit, but I promise you, I'll make you regret you ever met me if you try this shit again. I'm not interested in your big-brother routine, I have a boyfriend, I'm not looking for your brand of friendship, so butt the fuck out!"

  He just nods as I walk past and hurry across the terrace, trying not to smile at Team Rook as they hide their chuckles, and then hoof it back down to the art room.

  Ford does not follow.

  Antoine is still half-yelling at Spencer, in French, so apparently he understands him, and Spencer's expression is a cross between irritated, angry, and embarrassed.

  I clear my throat when I reach them and Antoine turns around.

  "Spencer, I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Ford. If you pull this shit in front of me again, I'll make you sorry. I'll hire lawyers, I'll ruin this show, I'll be the worst model you can imagine." I drop the robe and stand there as Antoine turns away and walks out. "Now, paint the fucking bikinis. Do not breathe on any sensitive areas. Do not even talk to me right now because I'm pissed. We just wasted a whole bunch of time, and I'm ready to get the fuck back to work."

  He shrinks back a little as my words get sharper, but then nods and goes over to his supplies and starts getting it together again. I look back at my team and wink and then catch Producer Larry and his people on the other side of the room snickering.

  A few minutes later Spencer is back kneeling on the floor in front of me, painting furiously fast, not being all that careful if you ask me, and not saying one word.

  And that's OK with me.

  I stand still, I turn, I kneel, I even lie down and spread my fucking legs at one point, but I could care less.

  This outfit is boring compared to the last one, but Ford was right about one thing, there's not a lot of paint involved.

  Today when I go back upstairs for the first photo shoot I absolutely feel naked. My nipples are white stars that have bikini strings attached to them. It looks real enough, Spencer did his magic and painted wrinkles in the fabric and shaded it just right so it tricks you into believing the illusion, but I don't feel dressed and I don't feel sexy.

  Josie bundles up my hair in something that looks like an old-ass bathing cap and then slaps on a blonde wig cut into a flirty bob with straight bangs. She brushes my cheeks with bronzer and a little bit of pink to give the illusion of a slight sunburn after a day in the sun, then drags some mascara through my lashes. It's all very natural, except for the wig.

  Billy has materialized from somewhere and to be honest, I'm happy about that. Billy and I got off on the wrong foot, but he's very professional and after spending time with Ford and Spencer, I can appreciate the tight ship that Antoine normally runs here. I miss Elise's watchful eyes and Ronin's calming gestures. These guys would've never pulled this shit if Ronin and Elise were here.

  Billy doesn't make one crack about me being naked this time and I'm not sure if Antoine warned him to keep his mouth shut or if he's just smart enough to figure that out himself, but either way, he makes me feel better. "Ready, Rook?" he asks in a low voice.

  "Yeah, I'm good." I go over to the bike we're shooting today. It's an old-school soft-tail that sorta reminds me of those classic Fifties cars, with the white walled tires and the off-white colored frame. The gas tank really sets it off because it's fat and has a pretty powder-blue Shrike logo on it, which is never the same thing twice. Each custom bike gets its own custom logo to match. This one is a spiked skull and crossbones, but painted up with fancy lines and swirls. It's kinda girly.

  I almost wish I had chosen this bike as my ride, since Spencer promised to customize a bike for me from his showroom.

  This bike only has one seat and it sits low. Billy tells me to cross my legs, then put them up on the handlebars. I sit sideways, then lean over and flash my ass, then back around to push out my tits. Even though Antoine's pictures will show a lot more skin in this shoot than they did yesterday, in my opinion it's not nearly as sexy as that catsuit.

  "OK, Rook, that's enough." Antoine stops talking and looks behind him at Spencer. "She needs to wash this paint off?"

  Spencer looks uncomfortable. "No, I can paint over this one. Next time, though, yeah."

  "Billy will take care of Rook in the shower until Ronin returns."

  I smile all the way back down to the art room because these asshole men have been put in their place and Antoine must have really been pissed to tame Spencer like that. Ford never even came back up to the studio.

  This next painting goes very quick because Spencer just adds to it, turning the stars into flowers and making the bottoms yellow and white stripes. I'm back up in the studio in less than an hour.

  Josie just does touch-ups on my makeup and since I never took the wig off, the hair only needs a quick comb.

  This time the bike is a sunny orange and it has a sandy floor and a beach backdrop behind it. Antoine has props for me now too, a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of orange sunglasses. Spencer appears after changing into some board shorts. He's got no shirt on and all his tattoos are now in plain sight. I guess I never paid much attention before, but all of Spencer's tattoos are red and black. I've never seen anything like it. It's clear that Spence plans his body art just as meticulously as he does his body painting.

  Most of his tats are skulls and birds. And I guess this makes sense, a shrike is a little bird infamous for impaling insects on thorns. I looked his name up because it was so unusual. The birds on his arms and chest are not all shrikes, because those are little robin-sized birds. So despite their cool name and impressive impaling capabilities, they are not really suitable as the starring avian in Spencer's artwork.

  No, most of his birds are large. I can see an eagle, an ibis, and lots and lots of ravens.

  Or maybe they are rooks?

  His front piece is the most beautiful blackbird tattoo I've ever seen and there are ribbons of red and smoky gray weaving around it, camouflaging skulls in the swirls. "Who does your art, Spence? It's incredible."

  He snorts out a laugh but doesn't answer, just takes my hand and leads me over to the bike.

  "Oh, are you in this shot with me?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. I'm a little surprised because no one ever mentioned that Spencer and I would model together.

  "Yeah, I'm the owner, right?"'

  I squint at him. "Did you just pull rank on me?"

  "Spencer," Antoine warns.

  Spencer throws up his hands. "She asked me a question. Fuck! What am I supposed to do? Ignore her?" He takes a seat on the bike and then pats his lap. "Sit down here, Rook."

  I hesitantly sit on his leg and he grunts. "Now look, Antoine, I'm paying for this fucking shoot, I need her to be natural, you've got her all wound up. Rook"—his attention goes back to me—"just pretend like you do in your other jobs. I'm your boyfriend, we're on sitting on the bike at the beach, and you like me."

  I wrap my arms around his neck and scoot back on his lap a little more, which makes hi
m suck in his breath—and makes me snicker a little if I'm honest—and then lean into his neck and whisper, "I do like you Spencer. But you scared me. I don't like that fighting stuff."

  "I'm sorry," he says. "But I'm not taking advantage of you and I'm sick of everyone thinking I am."

  Antoine is busy shooting as we talk and then he's barking out orders in French, which Spencer seems to understand.

  "Do you speak French, too?"

  "It's hard to know Antoine without learning French, he hates to speak English. And I took it in school so Ronin couldn't talk shit about me behind my back." He grins a devious smile down at me. "I know enough and Antoine says if I want good pictures I gotta get you to act like you're having a good time in my lap."

  "Spencer!" Antoine barks.

  Spence winks at me as he wraps me up in his arms. "I made that last part up, but it's true. Just give me some good pics, Rook. I saw the ones you did with Ronin and those were fucking hot."

  I bite my lip a little. They are paying me a butt-load of money, a lot more than the TRAGIC contract was worth, so fuck it. If I'm gonna do this job, I might as well do it right. I lean in and kiss Spencer and Antoine's camera clicks like crazy. Spencer rubs my back a little and then he wraps his hands around my neck and pulls until we bump foreheads, our lips very close but not touching. I look down at him and smile.

  "Thank you," he whispers.

  "It's my job, right?"

  "Right." He leans in and kisses me again. It feels… weird to do this and not have it be cheating. Is it cheating? I pull back and then Antoine tells me to stand on the other side of the bike and lean down on Spence's shoulders, draping my arms around his body.

  The plus side to this pose is that it's not an ass-shot. But my tits are practically dangling right in front of Spencer's face. I try to pretend it's just a job, but the truth is, Spencer is excited, and while I am flattered to have that effect on him, I'm also kinda worried, because I'm a little turned on too.

  Antoine asks for a few more poses, all of which compound the energy between us right now.