Light Me Up

by Isabel Sharpe

  Half an hour later he gave up, disappointed and frustrated. Since April he’d waited for this moment, convinced Melissa was something special, that she’d bring to his camera exactly what he’d been looking for to launch this next step of his career, an exhibit that would land him notice, buyers and prestige. In short: success.

  Now, as she stood at ease, watching him keenly, obviously able to sense his mood, Jack was horribly afraid that he’d fail.

  5

  Blood Pressure: Moderately Normal

  “TRY THIS.” MELISSA HANDED her sister a carefully cut piece of one of Angela’s chocolate cupcakes with raspberry frosting. They were sitting in the cozy kitchen of Gretchen and Ted’s adorable house in the suburb of Ballard. The couple had scraped together a down payment from Ted’s salary as a construction worker and Gretchen’s as an administrative assistant for the phone company. “You will go nuts.”

  “Ooh, it looks gorgeous.” Her sister took the fragment and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes closed. A rapturous expression spread over her face. “Oh, my God. Where did you get that and why did you only give me a little piece?”

  “Because there are other flavors.” She produced the bakery box from her lap and handed over a piece of a yellow chocolate chip cupcake with chocolate frosting. Then white cake with strawberry frosting. Then lemon with lemon buttercream. By that time her sister was reduced to moans of pleasure. “Not bad, huh?”

  “Incredible.” Gretchen blissfully licked frosting off her fingers. “You have to tell me where this place is.”

  “A Taste for All Pleasures in the Come to Your Senses building on Capitol Hill, corner of Olive and Broadway. Here’s Angela’s card.” She dug it out of the box and handed it over. “Three or four tiers of these would be perfect for your wedding cake. You and Ted can choose whatever kinds you want.”

  “Oh.” Gretchen took off her glasses, without which she was half-blind, and polished them absently. “I was planning to make—”

  “Wait.” Melissa held up her hand, bursting with her news. “It gets better. There’s a florist there, Bonnie Blooms. Those flowers I gave you? Guess how much they cost.”

  Gretchen put her glasses back on and turned to them, still blooming freshly on the butcher-block counter by her cheerfully curtained window three days later. “Forty? Forty-five?”

  “Eighteen and change.”

  “Whoa!” Her narrow blue eyes shot wide. “You are kidding me.”

  “Nope.” Melissa grinned triumphantly, nearly shaking with excitement. She felt like a fairy godmother. “You could get a bouquet for the ceremony and decorate the tables for next to nothing.”

  “Oh.” Gretchen bit her lip. “But Ted and I were thinking we’d be fine with—”

  “And.” Melissa knew she was interrupting, but she couldn’t wait to blab about her prize catch. “I got you a photographer.”

  “Melissa.” Gretchen looked stricken. “I told you we were going to hand out disposable cameras and let people—”

  “I know, but this is so much better.”

  Her sister folded her hands tightly on the colorful quiltlike tablecloth she’d sewn herself, looking close to tears. “We’re saving our money for the honeymoon. We can’t afford a professional.”

  “This one you can. Know how much he charges?” Melissa held up her thumb and index finger in a circle. “Big fat zero.”

  “That’s impossible. How did you manage that?”

  “Simple.” Melissa shrugged airily, enjoying every second of her surprise. “I’m trading him favors.”

  Gretchen gasped. “You’re seeing someone? You didn’t tell me!”

  Melissa made an emphatic no-way gesture with both arms. “I’m not seeing him.”

  “Melissa.” Gretchen looked as if she’d seen the devil himself. “If you are sleeping with some guy just to get me—”

  “Ha!” This time she laughed outright. As if! “No, I’m not doing that, either.”

  She told Gretchen about the whole situation. Now that she had her reaction to Jack and her first modeling experience under control, neatly dissected by her and Barbara into manageable cause-and-effect emotions, it seemed silly she’d ever gotten so uptight about it.

  “Oh, my gosh.” Gretchen was shaking her head. “Wait until I tell Maureen that pictures of you will be at the Unko. She’ll die.”

  “Who knows how far it will get. The important thing is, you’ve got your photographer. And your cake and flowers.” She got up and hugged her sister. “I was so sure the perfect wedding couldn’t be planned in five weeks. I am so happy to be wrong!”

  Her sister hugged her back, then pulled away, her face not as wreathed in bliss as Melissa had hoped. “This is so great what you’re trying to do for us. But...I don’t want you to have to go to all this trouble.”

  Melissa waved her objections away. “It hasn’t been any trouble, sweetie. I really wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams, the kind we talked about with Mom when we were girls, not some scraped-together mess. You both deserve so much better. And who knows, this might be the only Weber wedding, so we might as well do it up.”

  Gretchen scoffed as if the idea was beyond ridiculous. “Come on. You’ll find someone. Look at you, you’re gorgeous, talented, amazing. You haven’t found anyone because you’re burying yourself in too much activity and not enough dating.”

  “Marriage isn’t what I want.” Melissa’s voice came out sharper than she’d intended. She made herself breathe, squeezing her sister’s forearm in apology. “Not now anyway.”

  “So you say. I bet you—”

  “Change my mind when I meet the right one, I know, I know. You and Dad always say that. But I’m different from you two.”

  “Okay. Well...” Gretchen’s thin brows drew together; she twisted her mouth, the way she did when she was struggling with something she didn’t want to say.

  “What is it?” Melissa’s knee started jiggling.

  “This is wonderful, what you’ve done, Melissa. Really. But before I say anything, I should run it all past Ted....”

  “Oh.” Melissa was so taken aback her leg went still. What on earth would Ted find objectionable about a perfect wedding? In the next second, she had a duh! moment. Gretchen was no Bridezilla. She and Ted did everything together. Of course she’d want him to feel he had a say in their plans. “Absolutely. Take your time. Sort of take your time. Take a little tiny bit of time. We don’t have much.”

  “I will.” Gretchen smiled in relief. “He’ll be back from his run soon. I’ll talk to him.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, let me show you my dress. It’s nearly finished.” Gretchen jumped up and disappeared into the family room where she kept her sewing machine. She and their mother had shared a passion for needlework skills. Melissa had taken a few courses in sewing and pottery and painting, but she didn’t have that innate talent, and she definitely lacked the required patience.

  Moments later Gretchen returned, proudly displaying the elegant silk sheath on a hanger, very nearly finished.

  “It’s so beautiful, Gretchen.” Melissa rose from her chair and put a hand to her chest. The dress was gorgeous, simple lines with an off-the-shoulder neckline. Gretchen had embroidered earth tones onto floral lace appliques and sewed them around the hem and bodice. “My God, you’re going to be a bride!”

  “I know. I can hardly believe it.” Gretchen gazed tenderly at the dress, probably imagining the look in Ted’s eyes as he watched her walk down the makeshift aisle in their dad’s backyard.

  For one strange second, Melissa felt a pang of...what? Not envy, certainly. But something. Maybe the poignancy of realizing they were never going to be little girls together again.

  She didn’t much like the feeling, whatever it was. After admiring the dress for a little longer, she got busy putting the leftover cupcakes back in the box and taking plates and coffee mugs to the sink.

  “I’m going over to Come to Your Senses this afternoon for my next
modeling assignment.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep the grin off her face or the butterflies out of her chest. It was really exciting being part of a creative process. “Let me know when Ted gives his okay, and I can order the cake and flowers.”

  “Oh.” Gretchen hung the dress carefully over the top of the door, her blissful expression gone. “Well...today might be too soon.”

  Melissa frowned, drumming her fingers on her thigh. How long would it take Ted to say yes? Granted, she and her sister were totally different, but even Gretchen had to realize they were playing with a fraction of the time needed to plan weddings, and it was a miracle that Melissa had landed Jack. They needed to sew up Bonnie and Angela, too. “Okay, but these people are really good. They’re bound to be booked fast.”

  “Yes. Sure.” Gretchen looked nervous, pulling at her blunt strawberry-blond bob, the same hairstyle she’d had since she was a girl. “Soon. I promise.”

  “Is something wrong, Gretch?” Melissa walked over and touched her sister’s arm. “You guys aren’t having trouble, are you?”

  “No, no.” Gretchen forced a laugh. “No, not at all, we can’t wait to be married.”

  Melissa’s mind whirled through other possibilities. “Oh, my God, is it money? I didn’t say so, but all of this is my wedding gift to you. You won’t have to pay for anything.”

  “Oh, Melissa.” Gretchen’s blue eyes filled with tears that didn’t seem entirely happy. “That is so sweet. It’s really...so sweet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Melissa hugged her sister, feeling helpless that she couldn’t fix whatever was bothering Gretchen. “Mom would have wanted you to have a beautiful wedding, and I do, too.”

  Gretchen’s face went still until her lip started trembling. “I wish she could have known Ted.”

  Melissa grabbed a tissue from the box by the sink and handed it over. “I wish a lot of things had been different. But they weren’t.”

  She spoke gently, but firmly. Gretchen tended to assume the victim role, and Melissa wished with all her heart she could get her to upgrade her attitude. She hated seeing her sister suffer.

  “You’re right.” Gretchen wiped her eyes. “As usual.”

  Melissa paused as she gathered up her bag. For a second she thought she’d caught a bite in Gretchen’s tone.

  Impossible. Gretchen didn’t have a bitchy bone in her body. “I have to go. Modeling calls.”

  Gretchen summoned a watery smile. “You go, sister. Give Gisele Bündchen a little competition.”

  “Ha! She’s all but history.” Melissa grinned and kissed her sister’s damp cheek, heart aching for her sadness now and for the sadness they’d shared so young when they lost Mom. Maybe that was all that was bothering Gretchen. It would be completely understandable. At every crucial mother-daughter milestone they missed their sweet unflappable mom all the more, and there weren’t many bigger occasions than a wedding. “I’ll talk to you later, sweetie. Let me know as soon as Ted okays the cake and flowers.”

  She hugged her sister again at the door and headed for her car, glancing around the block of modest homes, suffering another pang at her sister’s neat, settled life. Honestly. Melissa would go nuts with boredom if they traded places. Barbara would say the emotional jabs were vestiges of her old self, and that it was okay to acknowledge them before she pushed them away and kept looking forward.

  On her way back into Seattle she felt her excitement rising—but not her anxiety. During their shoot on Friday, she’d kept herself firmly in check. As a result, whatever outrageous chemistry had blossomed between them on their first meeting had become manageable. Jack had seemed tense and grumpy photographing her. Who could go nuts for a tense grump? Not Melissa.

  After he had finished they’d looked at the shots together. Melissa had been surprised and pleased. The photos weren’t really even of her, just parts of her. Her ankle, for instance. Who could get all heated up about an ankle? Though with Jack’s skill, her ankle had seemed a mysterious and fascinating place of shadows and angles. All of which went to show, reassuringly, that to Jack her body was simply art, and if she thought of it the same way, she’d remain in control of her emotions and reactions, and today’s shoot would be nothing but fun. Calm fun. Goddess-of-Serenity fun, like playing dress-up with her personality.

  Thanks be to Barbara, setting her firmly back on the right track. Melissa had done the rest herself.

  She parked at her apartment and had a quick, light lunch so she wouldn’t bloat or gurgle during their session. She kept the same clothes—khaki shorts and a scoop-necked green top—because Jack said he’d have something for her to change into. Would she be an Egyptian goddess? A kitchen wench? A stalk of celery? Who knew what was cooking in Jack’s brilliant brain? Melissa would continue to learn and experience new things, that was the best part.

  She walked over to Come to Your Senses, arms swinging. This month was Seattle’s best, temperatures hovering around eighty, good breezes off Puget Sound, not much rain. August was good. Life was good. She bounded up the steps and down the building’s long hall, waving at Bonnie as she passed. Didn’t the woman ever take a day off?

  “Hello?” Jack wasn’t in his shop, which was officially closed Sundays, though he’d left the door unlocked for her. She walked through to the back. “Jack?”

  No answer. Was he in the restroom? His studio door was ajar; she peeked inside. He was probably—

  Oh, my lord.

  Jack. Shirtless. Earbuds in his ears. Wires running down his bare chest.

  What a chest. Wide shoulders, muscled body, not pumped to rigor mortis but definitely male.

  Definitely.

  She pulled her head back and collapsed against the wall, eyes closed, fanning herself. How was she supposed to regard Jack as nothing but a professional knowing he looked like that under his shirt?

  Darn it. Melissa hadn’t come here to be rattled again. She’d come here to be peaceful and in control and learn a lot about posing and photography and how artists create. So far all she’d learned was how wildly pecs and abs could turn her on when they were attached to a certain—

  “Melissa?”

  Gah! She stopped fanning abruptly. Her eyes flew open. “Jack. You scared me.”

  “Sorry. Feeling warm?”

  “No, not particularly.” She dared turn her head. He was wearing a shirt, thank God. And smirking like mad.

  “You were fanning yourself...?”

  The rodent. He’d been peeking.

  “Oh. A bug was flying around my face. A fly or a gnat or something.” She batted at an imaginary insect. “It was driving me crazy.”

  Somehow she managed to keep her face sincere and her blush at bay. Jack was going to make her an expert at controlling her circulatory system.

  Doubt replaced his smirk. He might not be buying it completely, but he was no longer quite so sure about his chest-power.

  “Come on in.” He shook his head, a small smile on his sexy lips, and gestured into his studio. “I’m ready for you.”

  Good thing he hadn’t said that when he was half-naked. But all was not lost. He’d have her do yoga again and she could regroup and go all Zen and be fine. Last time Jack had been able to focus on pretty much every body part she had without being affected at all. Melissa could—and would—do the same. This was his job. She’d do hers, too.

  “We’ll work in here again today. I’ll want to try some outdoor shots later on.”

  “Okay.” She stood waiting in Mountain Pose in the middle of the room, almost totally calm. Getting there anyway. He had his back to her, fussing with a light.

  “You’ll need to take off your clothes.”

  Whah? The Mountain in her Pose suffered a catastrophic landslide. “I—”

  “Keep your bra and panties on if you’re more comfortable at first. And put this on.” He turned, holding out a substantial length of silky material patterned like snakeskin.

  “Um.” Somehow she managed not to shriek. “
Put it on how?”

  “Drape it.” He cocked his head, looking her up and down. “Over the parts you don’t want to—”

  “Right. I get it.” She was about to grab it from him, whirl around and stomp out of the room, when she stopped herself. Grasping the soft, nearly transparent material, smiling with high-quality serenity, she turned and glided out of the studio—where the smile dropped and her body slumped.

  She was going to have to be naked in front of him? Keep her bra and panties on at first? She put a hand to her thumping heart, face reddening. Even Dr. Glazer couldn’t stay tranquil in this situation.

  Jack had not mentioned the whole naked thing when he said she’d be posing for him. What was she supposed to do now? Go ahead and strip? Cancel the shoot? What about Gretchen’s wedding?

  Barbara’s words came to her... With men, you can be sure they’re after one thing.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Her brain jumped to supply an image of Jack making love to her on the studio floor, the snaky material tangled around them both. Oh, my...

  Her eyes popped open.

  No, no, no. That wasn’t Jack’s purpose. Nothing about their previous photo session had felt sexual. Nothing had felt that way today. He’d asked her to take her clothes off as if he was asking her to pass the salt. Matter-of-fact, no leering, nothing suggestive in his tone. For a flirt like Jack, that was saying a lot.

  Models had gotten naked for generations of sculptors, painters and photographers. Jack wasn’t shooting for Playboy here, but a respectable gallery exhibit. Melissa had seen the Unko brochure with his name in it. And the shots displayed in his shop were all in impeccable artistic taste, even if a bit unsettling.

  So. No big deal, right?

  Melissa chewed her lip. Sort of a big deal...

  But she could do it. Not only could she, she’d act as if she wasn’t the least bit anxious or titillated to be naked in front of him. And if she pulled this off, which she suspected she would through sheer stubborn pride and determination, she could line up with the other actresses on Oscar night and feel good about her chances.