“Why both?”
“To double-check my impressions.” Nicole took off the sweatband she’d put around her forehead. Taking a key from her pocket, she unlocked the door. “The audience also makes a difference, influencing the actors’ energy. The earlier performance is for their peers.”
“Then you’re going to recruit clients.”
“I want to be proactive. Stacks of inquiries come into the agency, but sometimes the most talented folks may not know it. Besides, most of the portfolios we’ve received are for models, and we’re also looking for performers.”
“Is it okay for me to attend with you?”
Nicole hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll clear it with the school. Just don’t tell anyone why I’m there. The principal knows, but I don’t want the kids getting hyper because an agent is present, and I’d rather not give them false hope.”
“That’s reasonable. What time?”
“Meet me here at twelve thirty. Also, please don’t mention the name of the school or any of the students in your article.”
“I understand.” He started walking toward the park.
As a kid Jordan had been athletic, and despite his military haircut and gangly physique, quite appealing to teenage girls. His features were still clean and defined, but no longer angular. And his body? She let out a breath, annoyed that she kept getting distracted by Jordan’s physical attributes. After all, she’d worked with equally handsome guys since they’d moved her from a child category into shoots for teen products.
As Nicole went upstairs and showered, she mused that she’d basically worked her entire life, yet Jordan seemed to think she didn’t have any right to a normal existence.
It was true that she’d entered adulthood with sizeable investments, which had only increased through the years. She was skilled at handling her funds, which meant she was quite comfortable. But money didn’t solve all problems. Being in the public eye all the time was tougher than people thought.
Her so-called fame had been the problem when she and Vince had started dating. He’d been her first serious love and was the only guy she’d gone out with who hadn’t expected her to be a polished supermodel all the time. But after a while he hadn’t been able to take the notoriety and had broken off the relationship. Her heartbreak had become fodder for the media, including months of speculation that she was pregnant...even long after it would have been obvious that she was not.
Nicole stepped out of the shower and went into her bedroom. It was nicely furnished, her money allowing her to decorate exactly the way she wanted. Yet she had no one to share it with, something she seriously doubted would change anytime soon.
She stared at a painting on the wall and wondered how many people would trade her modeling success for love. Her stellar career was partly luck...luck to be born with what the world called beauty, and luck in having parents who’d known exactly how to market her appearance. She’d also had talent, worked hard and tried to act professionally, but she knew luck was always a factor. That was true of Moonlight Ventures as well, but it still needed her hard work and judgment.
Was that something she could explain to Jordan for the articles, or would he just see it as trite and clichéd?
What if it actually was trite and clichéd?
* * *
BY THE TIME Jordan got back to the park, where he’d left his car, he was still thinking about his sister working for Moonlight Ventures. His instincts told him Nicole wasn’t out to hurt Chelsea, despite the past problems between their families, but he couldn’t help being concerned.
It was impressive how rational Nicole seemed to be about criticism and the probability that some people disliked her.
He winced, recalling what she’d said about his mother’s social media campaign against the Georges. How could Mom have behaved that way, when she was the one who’d thrown herself at Nicole’s father? Wounded pride at being rejected? Or maybe it was just the insanity of spending so many years in a destructive marriage and resenting one that wasn’t.
He’d been an unwilling, unknown witness to his mother’s folly and had never told anyone what he’d seen. What he hadn’t known was whether Nicole had learned about the incident from her parents.
Apparently not.
Jordan stuck his head under a spigot at the park picnic area and washed the sweat from his face. The water was cold and helped clear his mind.
After getting home the night before he’d called Terri and told her about the latest development. She’d decided to immediately leave for Seattle in Chelsea’s car with a load of her things—they both wanted to ensure their sister’s ties with Ron were well and truly cut. Terri might be tough and negative a lot of the time, but deep down she was fierce about the people she loved.
Back at his condo, he phoned Syd and explained the newest wrinkle in the situation. She felt it would give an added human interest twist, provided he was transparent about the circumstances.
“Our readers know life is messy. They’ll be interested to see how you handle it,” she told him.
“These articles aren’t about me,” he objected.
“Maybe they will be, partly at least. It’s an intriguing angle.”
Jordan hung up, ready to pound the wall. Was it possible that Syd was trying to maneuver him into writing a regular piece for her magazine? Before she’d become the editor, PostModern had asked him to do a monthly column, but he was happy with the way things were. While he might write a book someday, in the meantime he had the footloose and fancy-free life he’d always wanted.
* * *
AT TWELVE THIRTY SHARP, Jordan knocked on Nicole’s door. “Shall we drive together?” he asked.
“Sure. That way we’ll look like parents showing up to cheer on their kids. It should elevate the anonymity level.”
“You don’t want anyone recognizing you?”
“That’s why I plan to slip in as the play starts. It cuts down on the potential. Plus, I have these.”
She pulled out a pair of studious glasses and put them on. They changed the look of her face, especially since he’d never seen her wear anything other than sunglasses.
“Do you actually need your vision corrected?” he asked.
“No, but I’ve had these for years. They’re good for misdirection.”
Without makeup and in an oversized shirt, it was possible she wouldn’t be recognized, though no one would mistake her for anything except an extremely beautiful woman.
“Will I pass?” she asked.
“I suppose. You really think we’ll look like parents?”
“They can’t see how we really feel about marriage and each other.”
“I’ve been upfront about my disinterest in becoming a husband. So you feel the same way?”
She grinned. “I definitely don’t want to become anyone’s husband.”
He groaned. “Come on. Do you always misdirect?”
“Is this for the article?”
“I don’t know. Everything’s a possibility. Plenty of speculation has gone on about your decision to leave modeling. A husband and kids were large question marks.”
“Well, I’m not interested in getting married,” she answered in what seemed to be a deliberately light tone. “The advantage of having a dog instead of a husband is that they don’t think something is wrong if you aren’t wearing makeup.”
Jordan was sure there was something deeper being hinted at, but doubted she’d say more at the moment.
“Your editor mentioned wanting pictures for the articles,” she continued. “But I hope it isn’t necessary to include one of me dressed this way. Going incognita is the best way to give these kids a fair shot.”
“I understand.”
Nicole walked to her car, parked in the driveway, and Jordan knew it made sense for her to drive since she’d probably visited the school al
ready. They arrived a few minutes before 1:00 p.m. and she led the way to the auditorium, arriving as the curtain on the stage was going up.
Throughout the performance, she watched attentively, occasionally checking the program, though without making any notes. Presumably she wasn’t seeing anyone she felt was promising. Jordan had to give her credit for appearing conscientious. His own attention kept wandering, unfortunately drawn by the scent Nicole wore, the line of her cheek, and the way her slight movements made him aware of the curves that had so often been displayed in a bikini or lingerie.
Perhaps that was the problem. Pictures were just pictures. But now she was here in the flesh and even though those curves were completely covered by a casual shirt, he’d seen enough photos of her in scanty clothes to know what lay beneath.
Shifting in his seat, he told himself the whole thing was basic human chemistry and could be overcome by rational thought.
Toward the end of the last scene, she stood and gestured for him to follow. They slipped out of the auditorium and walked briskly to the car. With the way they’d arrived and departed, he thought it was unlikely anyone would have noticed Nicole, even if she hadn’t been in disguise.
“At least you don’t have to attend tonight,” he commented as she drove from the parking lot.
“Excuse me?” She cast a surprised glance in his direction.
“There wasn’t much for a talent agent to explore.”
“Did we see the same performance?” she asked incredulously.
“What are you talking about?”
“For one, the kid who sang a song in the third act. Her role was too small to see if she has any acting ability, but her singing was excellent.”
Jordan frowned, remembering the short girl with stringy hair who had sung a few lines before getting interrupted by other onstage action.
“That kid isn’t exactly a star in the making.”
“Is that based on your prejudice against girls who aren’t your idea of sex goddesses, or because you think the agency can’t be interested in people who don’t fit the world’s limited concept of beauty?”
Whatever else Nicole might be, she was sharp enough to analyze his response and require him to define his intent.
He shifted in his seat. “If anything, I figured Moonlight Ventures would only be interested in clients they can develop as supermodels or into major acting stars.”
“Actors and models don’t have to fit a particular idea of good looks and I’m not interested in stereotypes.”
He shook his head, bemused by Nicole’s relentless logic. “Okay,” he said, deciding not to pursue the subject further, “the girl has a good voice. Is that all you got out of it?”
“The play itself was authored by one of the seniors.”
“It was?” Jordan had thought the show was well-written, despite the often excruciating performances.
“Yes. According to the principal he’s been a rebellious screw-up and had to write the play to get enough credit to graduate. I thought it was good and we may be interested in writers. Adam is exploring development of a literary division in the agency. I don’t know if that will work, but other agencies have done it and he’s been making editorial contacts. If anyone can pull it off, he can. At the very least we could refer the play’s author to one of our connections.”
“Isn’t it unusual for a talent agency to divide its focus?”
Nicole waved her hand. “Right now, maybe, since I’m still the only one working full-time. But once all of us are on board, it might make sense to diversify. We have varied interests and know there’s a wealth of talent in the Seattle area. Eventually we’ll hire other agents as well. The kid who wrote that play may have the ability to go all the way. Talent often emerges young. Walter Farley wrote his first Black Stallion book in junior high school, and there are a number of other authors who also began early. Adam is bugged by the idea that there could be a great author out there who might never realize their own potential.”
“Why is that Wilding’s special area of interest?”
“His mother is a writer, though she’s never tried to get published.”
Jordan hadn’t thought that much about Nicole’s partners. The focus of the articles was supposed to be on her as a supermodel changing her life. If he could schedule conversations with Nicole’s partners, it would mostly be for getting information that was related to her.
“So the agency might get a writing client for a potential literary division, and perhaps a singer. But do you need to go back again just to listen to amateurs reciting good lines?”
“I like to give them a second chance. It’s hard to perform at your best in front of fellow students. But if it’s too tedious for you, feel free not to attend this evening. After all, you’ve seen what I’m doing there and it isn’t world-shattering.”
“I’m going,” Jordan asserted, stung by her “tedious” remark.
One thing was clear, the assignment was turning out to be very different from what he’d anticipated.
Chapter Four
NICOLE COULDN’T INTERPRET the expression on Jordan’s face and decided not to try.
She pulled up in front of her house. It was after three thirty and she’d be heading back to the school in four hours. The schedule seemed rigorous for the kids, but the principal had explained the afternoon’s performance was mostly intended as a dress rehearsal.
Considering how the agency had been inundated with people wanting to become clients, it might be silly to go out searching. But this was more dynamic—not to mention more fun—than sitting in her office looking at pictures or videos.
“What now?” Jordan asked.
“I’m going to sit on my new deck and breathe fresh air while I make notes about the performance.”
“May I join you?”
“I suppose,” Nicole said reluctantly.
It was ironic. If PostModern had sent a different reporter, she probably wouldn’t be letting him or her into the house. So in a sense, being “herself” might actually be easier with Jordan. Well...easier on some levels, harder on others.
She went through the kitchen on the way out to the deck and took a bottle of mineral water from the beverage chiller.
“Help yourself,” she offered. “Sorry, there isn’t any beer.”
He glanced into the compartment and selected ice tea. “I also see there’s no wine. Worried about the calories?”
“I don’t care that much for alcohol. The last time I had a drink was when we toasted the purchase of Moonlight Ventures.”
Nicole spent a few minutes playing with Toby, tossing a toy while he fetched it and returned. The dog wriggled with pleasure each time she praised him. According to Toby’s records, he’d been found as a hungry puppy near the Bainbridge Island ferry. It broke her heart to think of any animal being abandoned, but at least she could ensure this particular dog had a good life.
Finally he collapsed on the grass, panting and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Some people thought cocker spaniels or corgis had the corner on adorability, but Nicole’s money was on beagles. When he’d whimpered and looked at her from his kennel at the rescue center she’d practically melted. Until then she’d been considering a German Shepherd adolescent with enormous paws and a goofball personality.
She went back to her chair under the covered section of the deck and started making notes in her electronic notebook, periodically referring to the program from the play. The kids had seemed eager and sincere, though most of them weren’t polished actors and actresses.
“I didn’t know you liked dogs,” Jordan said after a while.
Nicole reached down and patted Toby, who’d come over to sit next to her chair. “I couldn’t get one before because of my travel schedule—it wouldn’t have been right to kennel it constantly.”
“That’s why I’ve never
adopted a pet or thought about family. I like being able to drop everything and head to another part of the world.”
“Being free to travel is nice and I suppose a pet or a family would tie you down.”
Though Nicole was glad she no longer had to be on the go constantly, she also missed it. But a business couldn’t be run on an occasional basis.
Jordan’s head cocked. “You have an odd expression.”
“I was thinking about choices. This is probably the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was a kid. It seems strange in a way.”
His gaze sharpened. “Then that’s one of the costs of your decision to change careers?”
Nicole didn’t want to discuss what she thought or felt, but she had agreed to the interviews and intended to follow through.
“Yes,” she said, “if you want to call it a cost. I’m responsible for taking care of the agency until there are more of us here to fulfill our commitments. Being more mobile the way I used to be might be nice, though I rarely had time to simply appreciate the locations where I worked. Still, I got to see a lot, even if it was on the fly.”
Jordan had pulled out a notepad and written a bit before looking up once more. For a minute she was afraid he was going to imply again that she felt sorry for herself, which would tempt her to send his pad into the yard for Toby to use as a chew toy.
“Do you think you’ll be able to resist the freedom of travel?” he asked instead.
“I don’t intend to stay in Seattle three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Once the four of us are here, there will be some leeway. In the meantime, I made a choice about what I wanted to do with my life. It means I can’t do some things, but can do others, such as have a dog.”
Jordan looked at Toby. “He’s a pretty nice choice.”
“Yeah. Originally I wanted a large dog, but this guy charmed me into taking him instead. Maybe I’ll get a cat to keep him company when I’m out.”
“Two animals? I can imagine the look on Helen’s face if she had to clean up after them.”
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