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Striving for Perfection (Striving Series Book 2)

Page 11

by Mooney, B. L.


  He pressed his body to mine and leaned into my ear again. “Stay.”

  “No.”

  “It’s just dinner.”

  “We agreed to be friends.” I pushed on his chest. “Back off.”

  Only what could be described as a growl erupted from him as he looked in my eyes. He grabbed my arms and lifted me to his eye level, pressing me against the door even more. “You are mine and I will have you one day.”

  It took all of my willpower to control my breathing, to keep myself from shaking, and most importantly, to not tell him yes. I brushed my lips against his and backed my head away when he tried to kiss me. I brushed my lips against his again as I said, “Not until I say you can.”

  We stood there with our eyes locked, lips touching, but barely breathing. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to curl my fingers in his hair and direct where I wanted him to kiss me first, but I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that. If I had given into that man just once, it would’ve been the end of me.

  “Rachael!” Carl lowered me as the sounds of Amy running down the steps filled the entryway. We separated just before she walked in. “Rachael!” She was breathing heavily from her run.

  My eyes didn’t want to leave Carl’s, but my attention needed to be on his daughter. I bent down to her. “Yes, sweets? What is it?”

  “I just thought—” She took a couple of deep breaths. “I just thought I was going to miss you. I fell asleep.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. I’ve got to get going, but you did amazing today.”

  “I wanted to say thank you. When are you coming back again?”

  I glanced at Carl and he still had his hard mask on as he stared me down. “We’ll see. I had a lot of fun working with you today.” I reached out with my thumb and rubbed a little of the makeup that had messed up during her nap.

  “I hope you come back. I had fun and I like you.” I watched as she ran into the kitchen. If life were only that easy.

  “I like you, too.” Carl took a step closer.

  “No.” I held my hand up. “We agreed. Please, just friends.”

  His tone softened, but it was still going in a direction I didn’t want. “Rachael.”

  I stayed firm. “No, Carl. I’ve got just two places left and I can be done with them in a matter of days and out for good.” Out for good wasn’t what I wanted either. My tone softened, as well. “Or we can be friends and not need photos to stay in contact.”

  I held my breath as he reached toward me and briefly closed my eyes when he opened the door. “I’ll look forward to seeing Amy’s photos. Thank you for everything you’ve done tonight.”

  I nodded and headed home.

  The bar in the next hotel was dark, even in the afternoon. I wondered if the owner was going to allow me to take photos while it was busy or if I’d have to come back the next morning.

  As I looked around, I wondered what Carl wanted with a place that dingy. It looked to be mostly businessmen around with the occasional girlfriend hanging on them, but I couldn’t see Carl or his business associates frequenting a place like that. I wouldn’t want to be one of the girls hanging on the men, either. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend.

  The bartender nodded to someone behind me and I turned. “I hear you want to take photos.” A short woman with short jet-black hair had walked up, extending her hand. “I’m the manager. May I ask why you want to take photos and what you plan on doing with them?”

  “Oh, I’m photographing all sorts of different places with character and hoping to get a show from them.” I reached into my bag and took out the small sample book I made with the first couple of places. It was a simpler way to explain and it made convincing them easier. Plus, it made me seem more legit.

  She took it over to the bar where the lighting was a little better. I thought it was a good sign when she started to nod. “These are good.” She turned and handed it back to me. “Our customers expect a certain kind of privacy here.” She motioned around the area.

  “I completely understand.” I turned and pointed to the corner molding and then to the lighting figures high above everyone’s head. “Those are the things I’d like to photograph.”

  She was thoughtful for a moment and looked around. “That would be fine, but I want to inspect the photos before you leave.”

  I nodded. “That’s understandable.”

  “Bryce,” she said, as she motioned for the bartender, “will call me when you’re ready. I have work to get back to.”

  She turned without further discussion and left the bar area. I turned to Bryce and he shrugged. I shook my head and placed my bag on the bar. I wouldn’t normally go to this kind of bar, and I wanted to get out. It wasn’t creepy exactly, but it was very dark. I cringed when Bryce started yelling his announcement.

  “Listen up!” He waited until all eyes were on him. “This pretty lady is going to take some character photos. Not of you lousy characters, but of the building. Give her space and she’ll be out in no time.” He turned to me and spoke normal again as he motioned with his hand. “It’s all yours. Good luck.”

  “Thanks, I think.” If anything, his announcement made me want to get out of there even faster. Maybe that was his motive.

  At first, I didn’t take as much time as I normally would have. I just pointed and clicked, but I soon slowed down. Carl wanted pictures to show his panel, and they needed to be a great quality. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that with what little I had to work with.

  All of the other places were beautiful, filled with uniqueness and character. The only character to the place I was photographing was the patrons, and I wasn’t about to take their photos.

  They seemed a little restless until they noticed I wasn’t photographing any of them. I took the opportunity I had to photograph an empty booth and a couple of empty tables, but I didn’t lower the camera much other than that. Everything else was up high above the seating areas.

  I looked around once more and noticed a man sitting next to my camera bag. I was sure he wasn’t going to steal it, but I didn’t want to give him the opportunity either. So I headed back to it.

  The sound of my heels alerted him that I was coming. He turned and smiled. “I was wondering when you were going to make your way over to me.”

  With my focus on my bag, I looked past him and pointed. “That’s what I’m headed toward, but I think you already knew that.”

  The start of a balding patch appeared when he bent down to look at the camera I held by my side. It didn’t stick out as much as it would’ve if he had dark hair, but the blond helped hide it a little until one of the few overhead lights had shined on it. I refused to look at the rest of him as I put my camera away.

  “Did you get any good prospects?”

  “Some.”

  “How much?”

  “I’m sorry?” I tried to put the camera away a little faster. It was more difficult in such a dark area. I didn’t want to drop the lens as I was removing it.

  “How much do you charge?”

  “For photographs?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him shrug. “Sure.”

  I hesitated for a second before putting the rest of the gear away. “Well, it depends on what you want.”

  “Run through the packages.”

  “Look.” I turned and really looked at him for the first time. His blond hair was full and styled in the front. If he hadn’t bent down, I never would’ve known he was starting to lose his hair. The rest of him wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined with as weird as he was being. He really didn’t look creepy at all. He was at least forty and thirty pounds overweight, but I’d dated guys older and with a bigger beer belly than that.

  “I’m sorry. I work for a firm and I’d be happy to give you their number, but I don’t think you were asking that kind of question. I’m not a freelance photographer. This is actually just personal.” I turned back to the bag to fasten it up.

  “Well, let’s talk h
ypothetically. If you were a freelance photographer, what would you charge? Is there a basic and a deluxe package? I don’t want to get ripped off when I do find a freelance photographer, but I can’t exactly afford a service.”

  “I couldn’t even begin to tell you prices. Every photographer is different. They have different talents and specialties. I could only say basic would just be sitting and snapping photos. Deluxe would be something with props or maybe the location. It really all depends on what the client wants.” I motioned for Bryce. I wanted to go, and I needed him to call his boss.

  “But how much would you charge?”

  Bryce walked up and shook his head. “He thinks you’re a prostitute.”

  I gripped the edge of the bar as I laughed. I never would have thought my reaction would have been one of great laughter, but there it was, on the verge of tears laughter. I’d been called many things by men before, but prostitute wasn’t one of them. You have to charge for sex to be called that. The name I was given meant you gave it away free—too often.

  When my composure was back, I wiped a tear, but kept giggling. I had no idea why I found the idea so funny. I think I was just relieved he wasn’t a creep who was going to murder me in the parking lot.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m not sure why it made me laugh so hard. I really should’ve been offended.” I shook my head, unable to break the smile. “Can you call your manager, please? I’d like to go, and I have to show her the photos first.”

  “Sure.” He had a genuine smile. Apparently, he liked my response. Most women probably didn’t take too kindly to being called a prostitute.

  “So, if you were a prostitute, how much would you charge?”

  That sobered me up. I turned to him and scowled. “I thought we just cleared that up, but apparently, I was wrong.” I grabbed the camera bag. “I’m a photographer.”

  “Yes, but if, how—”

  His insistent questioning of how much I would charge started to piss me off. I understood the mix up. As I looked around again, I could see where some of those women probably were prostitutes looking for a good time. I, however, was not one of them.

  I leaned in closer than I probably should have and whispered, “Baby, you couldn’t afford me.”

  A smile spread across his face and caused me to back up. He reached for me and I evaded his grasp. He pulled handcuffs from the back of his pants and placed them on the bar followed by his badge he pulled out of his jacket pocket.

  “We can do this one of two ways—the easy way where you come downtown with me, or the hard way where I add resisting arrest to your charges. That could get ugly, but I’m willing to scuffle with you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere nor am I being charged with anything. I’ve told you I’m a photographer.” My voice started to get louder. “Bryce, tell your boss I’ll wait outside the bar.”

  I grabbed my bag and the blond guy grabbed my wrist, putting the handcuff on me. He twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me against the bar. The bar was hard against my ribs and I winced. The force of the second blow caused me to call out in pain.

  Bryce stepped up. “Easy, there. She isn’t resisting.”

  Once my hands were cuffed behind my back and my ribcage started to throb, he pressed me into the bar a little more to grab his badge. “This says I’m in charge, and I decide what’s resisting and what isn’t. She was going to walk out.”

  He hauled me back up to an upright position, and I noticed the room had cleared. I would kill Carl if he had known the bar was for prostitutes and hadn’t warned me. I would’ve dressed differently and definitely not worn heels.

  The jerk on my cuffs made me wince again, but the grasp on my arm soon after, brought me out of my shocked state. I dug my heels in as he started to drag me out.

  I could hear Bryce behind me. “Just go with him. He won’t hurt you.”

  My instincts wanted to fight him, but I knew it would only make it worse. I started walking, but shouted out Carl’s number and hoped Bryce wrote it down and called him.

  Jail wasn’t a place I thought I’d find myself. I wouldn’t say I was the perfect pillar of the community, but I could say the trouble I’d gotten myself into had never led to jail time. I could’ve lived without that experience.

  Everything of value or could be viewed as a threat was taken from me. The jewelry I had on, the belt I wore, and the heels I rocked. All taken. The sneakers they gave me at least looked clean.

  After fingerprinting and getting my mug shot taken, I was taken to an interview room and left alone, instead of the jail itself. The quiet was welcomed after the rush to get me through booking was finished, as the blond guy called it. I hugged my torso and rested my forehead on the table. With my throbbing ribs, I could only breathe in that position.

  The quick opening of the door startled me, but I didn’t budge. Once he started talking, I pretended my forehead was glued to the table. I didn’t want to look at him.

  “How am I supposed to put you out in the field to represent my company when you pull tricks like this?” Lance was a calm type of furious. It was a matter of time before he exploded.

  I still didn’t lift my head. “I was only taking photos.”

  He slammed his fists on the table, and I jumped up. “You’ve done nothing but try to damage my reputation. You can be the slut and whore you are on your time, but when you do a job for me, you become a fucking nun!” He started pacing. “I thought I had made it clear. I thought you understood what I expected from you. Are you that dumb?”

  I tried to remain calm. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He opened his arms wide and motioned around the room. “Wrong?” He shook his head. “You call this right? I take you off the bigger gigs because you can’t keep your legs together, but you don’t learn. You just can’t stop, can you?”

  “You’ve taken me off the bigger gigs so your latest girlfriend can fuck up the simplest shots!”

  He stormed over to me, but I didn’t move. “Watch your mouth or I’ll put it to better use.”

  “You lost that right the second you started fucking her.”

  His grasp on my face was quick and harsh as he pulled my face to his. He squeezed my cheeks to force my mouth open and licked the inside of my mouth. “We both know if I told you it would get you back on the road, you’d drop to your knees right here—”

  I spit in his face. The calm fury returned as his eyes turned cold and bore into mine. The chill that ran through my body told me I’d regret that later. Hell, I’d already regretted it.

  The movement was slow as he backed up, reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and wiped the spit before it slid further down his face. “I’ve come down here to vouch for you and get you out of this mess. This is how you repay me? I should leave your skanky ass right here.”

  It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do to come to a screeching halt when I reached the police station. Too much time had passed between Rachael’s arrest and me getting the message from the bartender about what happened. Time wasn’t on my side, and I needed to get her out of there.

  The guilt I felt for sending her there was one of the worst I’d ever felt. I had no idea it had turned into a place like that. The last time I was there, it was just a piano bar. If anything, I would’ve thought my biggest fear would’ve been her hooking up with the guy who played the piano. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The officers stopped to look at me as I got out of the car, but accepted my apology for causing a commotion and moved on. It still didn’t stop me from bursting through the door and causing another commotion.

  I let out a sigh of relief when I turned the corner and saw her standing at the desk, signing for her things. I wasn’t too happy to see Lance standing next to her. It wouldn’t stop me from making sure she was okay, though.

  Neither had seen me as I walked up, but when I heard Lance talking, I didn’t make my presence known.

  “Remember what we talked about, Rachael. I will
not warn you again.”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything to him. She held out her hand for her envelope of belongings. The sight crushed me a little inside. It made it all too real that she was actually in jail because of me.

  “I’m expecting you back at the office in the morning. There will be no more working from wherever you’ve been working from these days. Is that understood?”

  Again, she nodded as she placed her watch on her wrist. It wasn’t until her camera bag was set on the counter that she started to perk up. She tore into the bag making sure everything was okay. Her inspection of each piece seemed to make Lance impatient. He kept checking his watch.

  “As long as we’re on the same page, Rachael, everything will be fine.” He turned to go and she finally spoke.

  “You’re leaving?” She turned to him and that was the first time I saw the dark spot on the side of her cheek. Anger boiled in me and I walked toward them. “How will I get home?”

  “Take a cab.” Lance turned and ran right into my chest. “Back the fuck up, buddy.”

  “I’m not your buddy.” It didn’t take long for him to realize who I was. “This is how you treat your employees? I’m not sure my company wants to do business with a company like that. My colleagues may frown upon that, as well.”

  The decision to challenge me or not was heavy on his mind. You could see it in his eyes. He wanted to, but he knew it wouldn’t bode well for his company. He was an asshole, but still a businessman. “I have a meeting I’m running late to, but I was going to give her cab fare to pick up her car.”

  I crossed my arms and shook my head. “That’s even worse. You’re going to send her alone back to the place that sent her here?” I shook my head again. “Her car has been taken care of.”

  “I’m not sure what the two of you have going on.” He looked from Rachael to me a couple of times. “But she’s still my employee. It would do you both a world of good to remember that.”

  Rachael and I watched as he stormed out. She turned to me. “What do you mean about my car?”

 

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