Wet Dreams

by Emily Bishop

  Laughing, Mandy and I strutted our stuff, garnering appreciative looks from the men in the store. And from some of the women. My cheeks flushed. Mandy didn’t have a self-conscious bone in her body, but I was suddenly itching to get back to the dressing room when I felt their eyes on me.

  “Uh, we should probably get going,” I told Mandy, glancing at my watch as she completed her turn in front of the large, gilded mirror at the far end of the luxurious shop.

  Mandy sighed but nodded, heading back to me. “I know we said no buying, but I can’t let this dress go.”

  “We absolutely can’t afford these,” I insisted, dragging her back to the dressing rooms.

  “Plastic is patient, you know,” Mandy quipped, giving me a devilish grin.

  “No. You’re not putting it on your credit card. Let’s get changed and get out of here before you make a decision that’s going to mean you have to sell a kidney soon.”

  “Well, I do have two of them,” she told me, a contemplative look on her face as she twirled a flaming red strand of hair between her fingers.

  “For a reason,” I said firmly. “Now, go get changed.”

  Mandy laughed, then threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine, but I know where it lives now.”

  As she disappeared into the adjacent dressing room, my phone started buzzing again. I fished it from my bag, closing the door behind me. My mom’s face smiled up at me from the display. I declined the call immediately, noticing I already had four missed calls from her. Before I’d even fully dressed back in my uniform, the phone buzzed again.

  Mom, the display read.

  What the hell did she want from me? I hadn’t spoken to my parents in years. Finally, the third time it started ringing, I answered, not bothering to hide the exasperation in my voice. “What is it that you need from me, Mother?”

  “You have to come home, honey.” My mom’s voice sounded shaky, like she’d been crying. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  As callous as it might have sounded, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her dramatics. “I can’t. I’m on my way to work.”

  There was a knock on my dressing room door, and Mandy’s voice filtered through it. “You almost done in there?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I called back, holding my hand over the receiver. I dropped it as soon as Mandy said okay. “I have to go, Mom. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good time.”

  It never was when it came to my parents, but those were the breaks.

  “Demi, wait.” My mom heaved a sigh that shook on her exhale. “I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone but your father is sick. He has stage-four cancer.”

  I was stunned to silence, a cold sweat breaking out all over my body.

  “Demi? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. I did. When did you find out?” I asked, not knowing why it was important, but it felt like it was.

  “A couple of months ago,” she confessed.

  “And you’re only telling me now?”

  “Well, you see...” She took a deep breath. “He hasn’t been able to work for a while. The medical bills are piling up. The business is declining without him there, and we’re going to be forced to sell it soon. I don’t know what to do anymore. We’re almost bankrupt. We need your help, baby.”

  “My help?”

  After what they did to Gabbi? That was rich.

  “You know that I hate to ask you, Demi,” my mother sobbed at the other end of the line.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “I bet you do. Let me process for a few days, okay? I’ll get back to you.”

  “I know that it’s a lot to take in. Just come home soon, okay?”

  “I’ll see. Talk to you soon.” I ended the call.

  I stared at the shiny surface of my screen for several minutes after it went dark, trying to absorb the full impact of what my mother had just told me. Then I heard Mandy calling out for me again.

  “You okay in there?”

  Sucking in a shaky breath, I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  Mandy chattered almost all the way to the diner, but I barely heard a word she was saying. I’d been furious with my parents for years after the way they treated Gabbi, abandoning my nanny in her time of need. They just let her die. It was ironic that my father was in the same position now as she’d once been.

  The part of me that was still angry warred with my compassionate side. I wanted to ignore my mother’s plea for help and write it off as karma. They were just getting what they deserved for what they’d done to Gabbi. But I knew I couldn’t be as callous as they were.

  No matter what sins they’d committed in the past, they were still my parents. I might not like them, but deep down, I still loved them, whether they deserved it or not.

  Still, I didn’t know what my mother expected me to do. I didn’t have money to help them out, even if I wanted to. I was barely scraping by on my wages and tips from the diner. It was enough to live on but that was it. I couldn’t afford luxuries, wild nights out on the town, or beautiful blue dresses that made me look amazing. So, I sure as hell couldn’t pay for cancer treatments, which I assumed were astronomically expensive if they’d bankrupted my parents.

  I had no idea what I was supposed to do in this situation.

  I walked the streets in a daze, surprised when we reached the diner without my noticing how many blocks we’d walked. Which was nothing compared to the surprise I received when I crossed the threshold to see Barrett Hart sitting in the same booth he’d been in the day before, palming a cup of coffee and studying the chipped paint on the walls.

  Butterflies stirred in my stomach as I remembered the electricity between us. As soon as he looked up to meet my gaze, the corners on his mouth turned up into a sexy smile. I didn’t know what it was, but it was like something about him called to something in me.

  I was kind of flattered that he was back, since to him, girls must be a dime a dozen. But here he was, despite the way I’d turned him down. My feet were carrying me toward him of their own accord, and it dawned on me what I’d turned down yesterday.

  He’d offered me a job. I rejected the offer without a second thought. Yesterday, I wasn’t interested in a new job, but it was amazing how fundamentally my life could change in just twenty-four hours. Today, a new job with a better salary could be the answer I didn’t know I’d needed.

  I took a deep breath as I crossed the linoleum floor, heading directly for him. His eyes followed my every move with an almost possessive gleam in them. I could only hope that it meant his job offer was still on the table.

  There was only one way to find out. I drew to a stop at his booth and looked him right in the eye. “I want to take you up on your offer, if it’s still open.”

  Chapter 5

  Barrett

  Well, well. That was a surprise.

  The gorgeous waitress was actually asking for the job? I had been expecting an uphill battle to convince her to come work for me after she hadn’t called. Generous offer and all.

  My lips spread into a wide smile. “It’s still open. I was hoping I would be able to convince you to take it. Although, before I can hire you, I kind of feel like I at least need to know your name.”

  She looked stunned for a second, then those beautiful blue eyes lit up. “Demetria Alison Fowler but everyone calls me Demi.”

  Demi wiped her hands on her skirt and stuck a delicate hand out to me. Her handshake was much firmer than I would’ve expected. As soon as her skin touched mine, a shiver of electricity ran through me, settling in my cock.

  It distracted me from the fact that her full name sounded vaguely familiar, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I’d heard it before. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Demi.”

  “You, too,” she said, her hand lingering in mine before she noticed and pulled it away. A rosy flush sprang to her cheeks. Stefan and his camera were going to go crazy for her. “I, uh, when would I s
tart?”

  “Come to dinner with me tonight,” I said. “We can discuss the terms of your employment.”

  Demi’s eyes narrowed slightly, looking skeptical. Not the reaction I was used to getting when I asked women to dinner, but okay.

  “Do you always conduct business over dinner?” she asked. “I could just come by your office on Monday.”

  “I’d need the paperwork ready by Monday,” I lied. “I’ll bring your contract along to dinner. All you have to do is sign it and enjoy a meal on my dime.”

  I flashed her what the media had dubbed my moneymaking smile and watched as she started nodding slowly. The corners of her full lips twitched into a small smile.

  “Okay, let’s do it. Where and when?”

  Now that was more like it. “Tavolo Uno. Tonight at eight.”

  Demi’s eyes widened in surprise. “It takes months to get a reservation there.”

  Not when you’re a silent partner. “Armando, the owner, owes me one.”

  He owed me several million actually, but no one had to know about it.

  “Okay, I...” She trailed off, looking a little dazed. “I’ll meet you there, then.”

  “You want me to send a car for you?” I asked, then laughed at the look she shot me and clarified. “A company car, Demi. Relax.”

  A nervous giggle floated from her lips, but her tone was playful, more like it had been when I first met her.

  “I’m sure that would be great, but no thank you. I’ll just meet you there.”

  “Alrighty then,” I slapped a twenty on the counter for my coffee. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah, I guess you will,” she said, disbelief ringing in her voice.

  I rose from the booth, more than relieved that I could get away from the smell of deep fried everything that hung in the diner, but I was already looking forward to seeing her that night.

  Demi waved, then spun around and dashed to the kitchen.

  Stepping onto the busy sidewalk, I neatly sidestepped a bike messenger who yelled, “Watch it,” then flipped me off as he whizzed by.

  Asshole. I had half a mind yell back at him, but I had better things to do than get in a street fight with a courier. If I wanted Demi’s contract ready by dinner, I had to speak to Adam.

  We didn’t pay our lawyers a fortune in retainer fees to have them unavailable to us at a moment’s notice. Adam dealt with them on a daily basis. He was sitting in his office when I arrived.

  “Dude, you totally missed out yesterday,” Adam said by way of greeting. “That model had a mouth like a damn vacuum.”

  “Thanks for the update,” I replied. Adam never was one to kiss and not tell. “Can we leave the ‘Stories or it didn’t happen mentality’ behind for just a second?”

  Adam hooted with laughter. “A good BJ is always worth a story, don’t you think?”

  For a second, my mind conjured up an image of Demi’s pouty lips wrapped around my cock, but I pushed it away. For now.

  “True, but we have bigger fish to fry,” I told him.

  “That’s why you’re the rainmaker. What can I do you for?”

  “I found her, the face of the agency. I need you to get in touch with Smith and have the contract drawn up. Same starting rate as Angela.”

  There was a stunned pause and a deep exhale. “Jesus Christ, Barrett, what are you smoking? Cause I sure as shit want some. Where did you find a chick who justifies what Angela makes? Who is she? Where can I see her work, at the very least?”

  “You can’t,” I said. “But that’s exactly the point. She’s not a model. Not yet anyway. Will you get it done?”

  “Don’t I get to meet her first?”

  “Nope, I’m signing her tonight. You keep telling me I’m the rainmaker, so you’re just going to have to trust me.”

  Adam shrugged and made the call.

  Hours later, I was sitting at the best table in Tavolo Uno, swirling a glass of Armando’s finest wine, and I watched the vision that was my date approach. I knew I’d made the right decision. Demi was, in a word I rarely used to describe women, stunning.

  She was beautiful in her uniform by day, but moving through that restaurant, dressed to the nines in a scrap of a little black dress, gracefully navigating the scrapes of chairs and the servers scurrying by, she was fucking devastating. She moved as if she belonged here, as if she was more than comfortable among the elite.

  My gaze narrowed in on her. The tantalizing smells of garlic and prime steak faded into the background, along with the soft jazz that was playing and the murmur of dinner conversation. She was the only thing in my world at that moment.

  She was fucking perfect. She was going to be a gold mine as the new face of the agency, as soon as I got her to sign the contract folded in the breast pocket of my favorite Armani suit.

  I rose as she approached, pulling out her chair like the gentleman I never bothered being.

  “Hi,” Demi said, her voice soft and shy.

  I felt a pull toward her that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until I’d stripped her of any self-consciousness and she no longer had any reason to be shy toward me.

  I didn’t do that, of course.

  “Hey, thank you for coming,” I said, instead.

  She lowered herself into her seat with poise I should’ve, but didn’t, expect from her, and she fixed her eyes on mine. “Of course, do you have the contract?”

  A low whistle sounded from my lips. “You really are all work and no play, aren’t you?”

  Her fingers went to her neck, exposed since she’d swept her jet-black hair back for the occasion. I itched to press my lips to the exact same spot her fingers were gently trailing over.

  “And am I not at work?” she asked. “Again. You’d think you would appreciate my professional attitude as an employee.”

  I smiled. “I do.”

  Reaching for the papers folded in my jacket, I slid them and my pen over to her. “You’ll see that the terms are pretty standard for what will be expected of you.”

  I’d barely started when she began placing her initial on each page.

  “You know, you should really have your lawyer look that over,” I told her.

  Her answer surprised me as much as her actions. “You said it was standard, I trust you.” She smiled, sliding the signed contract back to me.

  “You didn’t have any questions?” I asked, brows raised. “You really could’ve taken some time to go through it.”

  “I’d rather hear it from you. What kind of hell did I just sign myself up for?” Amusement and a hint of something else, relief maybe, glinted in her eyes.

  “Shouldn’t you have asked that before you signed?”

  “Probably but this way I’m less likely to back out. Lay it on me, boss man.”

  I didn’t miss how tight her shoulders were or the throb of her pulse in her neck. She was doing a good job of appearing calm, but she was clearly nervous as hell.

  On autopilot business mode, I started by telling her our agency stats. “So, BHA Models is one of the top-rated modeling agencies in the world. We’re also known for being among the most lucrative.”

  This was where most women started getting excited, but Demi didn’t. If anything, she looked turned off by it, annoyed even. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and her posture locked.

  A waiter appeared at the table, giving me time to process that my usual spiel wasn’t having its intended effect. “Good evening. What can I get for you this evening?”

  “I’ll have the dry aged beef tallow, please,” Demi said without even having picked up the menu, favoring the server with a kind smile. Looking back at me, she clearly noticed the stunned look on my face. She shrugged. “What? I’ve heard of this place.”

  I had a feeling it was more than that, but I didn’t push her for details she obviously wasn’t willing to offer up to me yet. Fixing my eyes on hers, I didn’t break eye contact as I handed our menus to the waiter. �
�I’ll have the same. Medium rare. And a glass of the same Pinot Noir I’m having for the lady.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  “What if I’m more of a beer kind of girl?” she asked, a hint of a smile creeping back onto her tense features.

  Damn, this chick was going to give me whiplash. It was a strangely familiar feeling. “You know, you remind me of Nancie.”

  Demi tilted her head slightly. “Nancie? And just how does your girlfriend feel about you courting prospective models on a Saturday night?”

  I couldn’t hold back a shout of laughter, shaking my head. “No. No, it’s nothing like that. She’s my niece. I can never tell what page I’m on with her, either.”

  A coy smile spread on Demi’s lips. “You can’t tell what page you’re on with me?”

  “Not even a little bit,” I admitted, as much to my surprise as hers. “One second, you seem bored and distant, and the next, you’re playful and alive. It’s confusing.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about how badly I’m about to suck at my new job.” She smiled. “I saw on the contract that I start on Friday. What will I be doing?”

  “A simple photoshoot,” I told her. “There’s at least one a week. In between the shoots, you’ll be working with the photographer and some of the other girls. Eventually, there will be PR events and a whole bunch of other things.”

  The glazed look returned to her eyes, and she started fidgeting. “Oh, okay.”

  “Still no questions?”

  “I don’t know enough about your industry to have any yet,” she told me honestly. “I would like to know more about this niece of yours that I remind you of, though.”

  In that moment, I swore that I would’ve given every dollar I had to know what the hell was going on in that pretty head of hers. My brows flew to my hairline, and my heart started pounding.

  “You want to know about Nancie instead of how I plan to put you on every magazine cover from here to Mars?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Mars isn’t going anywhere, as far as I know.”

  The woman was one surprise after another. I could hardly believe that she was more interested in my niece than finding out just how famous she was about to become and exactly how much money she would be making. From the way she was suddenly leaning forward, anticipation on her features, it was obvious that she really did care more about hearing about Nancie.