Текст книги "Lucky Number Four"
Автор книги: Amanda Jason
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
22
“But I want you to come with me. I don’t want us separated for a minute,” Drew says sweetly.
“Okay, I’ll hang out with you today, but tomorrow I’m going to the beach. I need to get a tan.”
“No way are you sunbathing on the beach. I’ll have to beat all the guys to a pulp who get a glimpse of you. Anyway, I bet you don’t tan.” He puts his hands on his hips, looking me up and down.
“No, but they have umbrellas I can hide under, and if I take it slow, I’ll get some color.”
“But I love your skin just the way it is. I don’t want it burned.” He’s running a finger down my arm now.
“You’re just looking out for you. If I get burned, it will be no more fun. I’m a big girl and I’ll make the decision. Don’t worry, I won’t burn.” I lift his finger from my arm and slide my mouth up and down it, watching his eyes go dark with desire.
“Not fair. We have to leave, and I can’t do a shoot all hard and horny. I don’t have time for a cold shower. I’ll make you pay for this later.”
I giggle and move quickly away from him, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. Let’s just say the elevator ride down didn’t cure either of his problems.
The shoot is a beehive of activity, and I’m suddenly really nervous being here with Drew. Moving down the sand, I walk a few feet behind him. A guy with a clipboard has been by his side since we left the limo. The sun is bright, even with my sunglasses, and the sand is loose, so it’s really hard to walk on. I’m praying I don’t fall flat on my face. That would be a total fail and would probably embarrass both Drew and me.
I tug on the short shorts I’m wearing, feeling self-conscious as a few people start staring at me. I left my hair down and the wind is blowing the curls in my eyes. I dig in my bag for a headband to keep it out of my face.
When I look up, Drew is far ahead of me and clipboard boy trying to keep up with his long strides. The sight would probably have made me laugh if I wasn’t feeling so self-conscious right now. More people join the original gawkers as I pass by them. I feel like there’s a spotlight on me instead of the sun.
As if Drew can read my mind, he stops in mid-stride and pivots, ignoring Mr. Clipboard. He jogs back and puts his arm around me, making more people take notice.
“Sorry, Dora. I had to work out some problems with the shoot. I didn’t forget about you, honest. Don’t worry about our audience. They’re just wondering where I found such a hot woman.” He squeezes me close, and my confidence rises by at least ten percent.
“Drew, hurry. The lighting is perfect for a morning shot, and then I think we’ll break until sunset to get the rest. Alex is waiting for you in the red tent, so get a move on,” an older woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth belts out like she thinks he’s hard of hearing. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest, and pencils are stuck behind both ears. The best part is that she’s as short as I am, so I immediately feel a kinship with her.
“Sandra, this is Dora Phillips, and those things are going to kill you.” He points at her cigarette while shaking his head.
“Hi, nice to meet ya, Dora, and no, these won’t kill me. Angela will. I can’t believe Joe put her on this shoot. She’s a fuckin’ bitch, and I refuse to be nice to her. I’ll probably be handed a pink slip, but I’m fuck-nuts fed up with that prima donna attitude of hers. She thinks that just because she’s the hot thing right now, she can act like a complete twat.” Sandra stops her tirade, takes a drag and then turns to shout at a man nearby.
“Sorry, have to run. Red tent, Drew, and Dora, hope you enjoy yourself.” She doesn’t wait for a reply as she rushes toward the poor man she just yelled at. He looks petrified.
“Don’t let the cursing like a sailor and chain smoking fool you, she’s actually a really sweet woman,” Drew says. “She’s been married three times, has four children, and six grandchildren. She’s the director of this organized chaos, and she won’t get fired because everyone is scared of her. We better get to the tent before I get yelled at too.” He leads me to a row of huge tents, all different loud colors. “Yeah, the prop man loves color.” Again, it’s like he’s reading my mind.
Inside the tent, the air is cooler, and two chairs that look like they belong in a beauty salon are sitting in the middle. Surrounding the chairs are rolling carts full of drawers and bins. A multicolored-haired young woman popping her gum is standing by one of the chairs buffing her nails.
“Thank god you’re here. I thought Sandra was going to have a heart attack. I know CPR, but everyone would hate me if I brought her back to life. Now get your ass in the chair. I have to make your ugly butt beautiful.” Her New York accent is obvious, and I instantly like her feistiness.
“Alex, Sandra will outlive all of us, and I’m not late. I’m so sorry I’m ugly, but you’ll make me handsome like you always do, right?” Drew grins at her and then winks. She ignores him and points to the chair.
“Drew, where are your manners? Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Alex nods her head my way and smiles.
“Sorry. Dora, Alex. Alex, Dora.” He laughs as we both roll our eyes.
“Hi, I’m Alex, short for Alexandria. I make the monsters look pretty, which isn’t easy. It’s good to meet you. Why are you are hanging around with this one? There really are no words to explain him, but I guess you know that.”
“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Dora, short for Pandora, and I don’t know why I am either, except for the fact he feeds me.” We both laugh when Drew scoffs.
“Nice. I love the fact you’re both ganging up on me. You better hurry, Alex. Sandra will be by soon to check up on me.”
“Have a seat, Dora.” Alex points to the empty chair beside Drew. “I have to go to work, but we must chat later.” She grins wickedly as Drew groans while closing his eyes … but not before he winks at me.
It doesn’t take Alex long to make Drew “handsome,” and we move to the green tent, which is wardrobe. Rows of swimwear line one wall and then gauzy cover-ups line another. A willowy man is in charge and flips through the clothes like he’s disgusted at what he sees.
“Ah, Drew, so glad you could join us,” the man says. I look around, but there’s no one else in the tent. “Here are the changes for this morning. Turquoise pair first. Chop, chop. Time is flying as we speak.”
To my surprise, Drew undresses and pulls on the trunks, which fit him like they were custom fitted. Duh, of course they would totally fit, Dora. Can’t have too tight or baggy drawers on one of the world’s top models.
“And who is this little hottie?” I feel like I’m being undressed as the man scans me up and down.
“She’s with me, Bernard, and don’t get any ideas. She’s not in the biz.” Drew puts his arm around me as if to solidify his statement.
“She has a wild look about her—untamed hair and pure skin. Watch out, someone might snatch her up.” I decide I’m not a fan of this guy, and I sense the feeling is mutual with Drew.
“We’re out of here.” Drew waits as I go first and then follows me.
“God, I loathe that man, and if he comes within ten feet of you, scream, seriously.” Drew sounds serious and I wonder what Bernard has done to deserve his hatred.
We make our way down hand-in-hand toward the water, where the majority of people are hanging out.
“Here’s Drew, Sandra,” a voice calls, making the crowd turn their heads to watch us until we reach them. I feel like I’m under a microscope, and it’s not a good feeling.
“Great, Drew. Get your ass over here and let’s get started. Dora, have a seat beside me.” Sandra points to an empty chair. I let go of Drew’s hand and do as I’m told.
“Okay, ready. These are just Drew pics. I just got a call the bitch prima donna is running late so we’ll get started without her.”
The next few hours are full of excitement as I watch what at first appeared to be a chaotic mess completely transform into a well-oiled machine. Drew is a natural, and between shots he jokes with the crew. I can tell he likes all of them and the feeling seems to be mutual.
“Oh, shit. The twat-monster approaches,” Sandra mumbles.
I turn to see a face and body that I’ve seen many times. Angela Paige is beautiful, and she knows it. She wears self-confidence like a coat. Her attire is the scantest of bikinis. I wonder why she’s wearing anything at all. She’s tall, long-legged and blonde, which she swears in every article I’ve read is her real color. She’s looking straight ahead, and people move out of her way as she makes her way toward the shoot. I realize her gaze is fixed on one person, and it’s Drew. Drew is talking to one of the other male models, and he turns when he hears all the murmurs.
When Angela makes eye-contact with the object of her attention, she breaks into a breathtaking smile and seductively saunters up to him and—I can’t believe my eyes—she kisses him like they’re all alone on this beach. The crowd swells around them, and I can’t see Drew’s reaction. I’m overcome with jealousy. The green-eyed monster is definitely bubbling up inside me. There have always been rumors in the tabloids that they secretly had a thing for each other. Of course, each one has vehemently denied them, but my mom always says where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. I feel like running away, but I sit in the seat with what I hope is a neutral look on my face.
Sandra jumps to her feet and yells for everyone to take their marks, and they all scramble to do her bidding. I spy Drew talking to the cameraman. Angela is having a young girl put color on her lips. How thoughtful of her to wait until she kissed Drew so he wouldn’t have to remove it from his lips.
The rest of the shoot is a blur. No longer is it exciting. I feel like I’m watching two people madly in love. My hands start to hurt, and I look down to see them pale white, clenching the sides of the chair. The umbrella that’s attached to my chair is no longer keeping me shaded, and I decide I’m going back to the hotel, even if I have to walk back alone.
“Take five,” Sandra yells, almost bursting my eardrums.
Drew walks away from Angela and makes his way to me with a worried expression on his face.
“Dora, are you okay? You’re getting a little sun,” he says, reaching up and angling the umbrella so I’m in the shade again.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Great, I sound so stiff and formal that he looks at me strangely.
“You don’t sound fine,” he replies, stroking my cheek.
“I guess I’m just tired.”
“I’m tired too,” a sultry voice from behind Drew says. “Who is this little person? Did you finally get an assistant like I told you to?” Angela moves beside Drew and lays her head against his shoulder, looking at me like I’m insignificant. She proves it by moving between us and putting her hand up to his cheek. “Sweetie, I think we should go over to the tent and get some refreshments and talk about our next session. I’m not turning red, am I? I put maximum sunscreen on, and I wouldn’t want this body to get burned.” She’s standing so close to him that I want to drag her by her bottle-colored hair and beat the crap out of her.
“You go and I’ll be there in a minute.” Drew moves around her and leans down to me.
“Okay, but don’t be too long. I haven’t seen you in days, and we need to catch up.” She doesn’t look back, but walks toward the tent as if she’s walking down a runway.
“I’ll bring you something back to drink, okay?” Drew kisses my cheek and then follows Angela like a little puppy dog.
That seals it. I’m leaving. I don’t belong in this world. I watch as he catches up with her and the perfect-looking couple strolls into the tent together. I grab my bag and make my getaway. Luckily, when I reach the top of the sand dune, limos are lined up waiting to shuttle people back to the hotel. I snag the one we came in. I say, “Hotel, please,” as I settle in and he takes me there without question. I ask him to wait for me, as I need to grab my things before heading to the airport. He doesn’t bat an eye, just nods his head.
The maid has been busy. Our hotel room looks immaculate. I quickly stuff all of my things into the carry-on bag. With tear-filled eyes, I leave, taking a long ride to the airport.
Flying back is so different. No plush seats, just economy, but I’m lucky that a seat was available. Even though I have to change planes, it’s worth it to get home.
Home. I don’t want to go back to the loft, and I don’t want to go back to my parents’, and I’m not going to go to Julie and Kevin’s, so I call Jeff when I land, hoping he’s not at the loft with Liam.
23
“I can’t believe you just up and left him without leaving a note or anything.”
This isn’t the first time Jeff has said that since he picked me up from the airport. All I can do is cry my heart out and let him rant. “It was a shoot. Drew had to look like it was real because that’s what he gets paid to do.” He hands me another tissue at a stoplight and turns to look at me. “Dora, quit bawling. Let’s talk this out.”
“I can’t. My heart is breaking,” I get out between sobs.
“What else did he do? Did he say he and Angela are an item? Did you even ask?”
“I don’t belong in his world. It was just a fling, but now my heart is broken … again.” I finally catch my breath, and though my heart is aching, my tears begin to subside.
“You need to call him. Don’t leave him hanging like this,” he continues, giving me advice until we pull into the parking lot of the student apartments on campus.
About an hour later, sitting on the plush blue couch in his apartment, he hands me my cell and tells me to call Drew or he’ll call my mom and tell her I’ve had a breakdown. I glare at him and his devious blackmail attempt.
I look at my phone and see twenty missed calls—all from Drew. Shit, my ringer has been off. I hit the call button and hear it ring. The butterflies are back and they’re going crazy. I know my blood sugar is out of whack because the last time I had anything to eat was, like, twelve hours ago. I’m starting to shake and feel drained of all emotion.
“Hello,” a familiar female voice answers.
“Um, yes, can I speak to Drew?” The shaking is getting worse. What is Angela doing answering his cell?
“He’s in the shower. Can I take a message?” she purrs. I swear she is.
“Tell him Dora called.” I should’ve just hung up, but I don’t.
“Does he have your number?”
“Yes,” I reply, thinking how dumb she must be since my number will be saved in Drew’s call log.
“Okay, I’ll tell him, but we’ll be out until late tonight, so he probably won’t call you until tomorrow sometime.” And before I can say anything, she hangs up. More tears stream down my face, and Jeff holds me as I sob my heart out again.
“Dora you’re going to be late for class.” Jeff’s voice seems so far away, but when I open my eyes, he’s right in front of me.
“Go away,” I say, pulling a pillow over my swollen eyes.
“Nope, not doing it. It’s okay to miss the first day of class, and maybe the second, but not the third. So, get your lazy butt out of bed and hit the shower.” He pulls the pillow away from my face, and I stick out my tongue. “Really mature. Clean that body while I make breakfast. You’re so lucky to have a friend like me.”
“I know,” I mumble, and I hear his laugh as I enter the bathroom.
“You look better. Except for the dark circles and puffy eyes.” Jeff puts a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of me.
I resist a snappy comeback because I don’t have one. It’s been more than a week since I left Drew in Florida. After I talked to Angela, I decided to block all of Drew’s calls. I didn’t want to hear any of his lame excuses. Of course, that didn’t stop him from harassing Julie, Kevin, and Jeff. Thank God he didn’t contact my parents. It’s been about three weeks since I’ve seen them, and I’m running out of reasons for why I can’t make the trip. I know as soon as my mom sees my face, she’ll be trying to find out what’s wrong. She can’t use her psychic powers on me, but her motherly instincts work just fine in that department.
“Eat up before it gets cold.”
“Yes, Mom. Okay, Mom. Anything you say, Mom,” I say sarcastically, but it just rolls off Jeff’s back.
“Speaking of Mom, I said we’ll be there on Sunday for dinner.” Jeff smirks at me, and yeah, my tongue automatically sticks out. Great. Only five days to get my eyes back to normal.
“Such a good friend you are.”
“I know,” he replies, seeming proud of himself.
Classes move at a snail’s pace all week. My nerves are stretched thin, as I’m constantly on the lookout for Drew to surprise me and show up at school. Of course, Jeff waits until Friday afternoon to let me know Drew is halfway around the world on another shoot. I have to punch him, since he also said Liam had told him Monday morning. I resist the urge to ask when Drew’s coming back, as I don’t want to hear Jeff lecturing me again.
Sunday, I wake up to a beautiful sunny morning, and if it wasn’t for the foot of snow covering the ground, you’d think it was spring or summer and not frigid winter. All bundled up in layers of clothing, I wait on the couch for Jeff to finish getting ready. I’m proud of myself for being up and ready before him. Maybe it means my heart is beginning to mend. Oh, who in the heck am I kidding?
“Boy, aren’t we anxious for dinner with the fam?”
“Yeah, right. Don’t mention anything about the whole Drew thing, okay?” I ask. Yes, I’m anxious. I’d give anything to avoid them finding out about my wild week of pre-marital sexual activity followed by a sudden breakup. They’re from a different generation and wouldn’t understand.
“Of course I won’t. I think Julie, Kevin, and I are doing a great job of telling you that you screwed up, so we don’t need any help.”
“Oh hush, and let’s just get this over with.”
An hour and a half later, we arrive at my parents’ house. The roads were a little busy for a Sunday, and several people decided they needed more excitement in their lives and got themselves into a few car accidents. Everyone is at the house, and luckily, there’s no time for small talk, as dinner is on the table and Mom tells us to take our seats as soon as we walk through the door.
“So, Dora, I tried to call you yesterday, it went straight to your voice mail, and you didn’t return my calls.
Great. Trust Grandma to bring this up the moment dinner starts.
“I was getting weird calls, so I turned it off during the day.”
“Weird calls? Did you call the police?”
Awesome. Now everyone at the table, even Bridget, who likes to eat and then excuse herself because she’s too cool for us, is staring at me.
“Not police-calling weird, just wrong numbers, telemarketers, and such. No big deal, but it wastes my minutes when I answer them.” They don’t need to know I have an unlimited minute plan, do they?
My dad, the sweet man that he is, changes the subject. “So, how does it feel to be graduating in less than five months?”
I let Jeff answer first, and then I say something appropriate. To my relief, everyone seems to be concentrating on their plates.
Right after dinner, Jeff, Granddad, and my dad disappear into the den. Bridget and Taylor sneak away as usual, and I’m on kitchen duty with the women.
“Dora, how are your queer—I mean—gay roommates doing?”
Oh, Grandma. You just have to love her.
“They’re fine. In fact, they’re all out of the country right now. I hardly see them between work and school.” My back is to them, thank goodness, because even though they’re out of the country, Jeff’s my roomie now, so that would be a lie.
“They’re nice young men. I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t want to settle down with a woman and have a family.” Now Grandmother has to put in her two cents.
“Maybe because they haven’t found the right women, and I told you, two of them aren’t gay.”
There, I said it. Now they either deal or decide to live in their “our granddaughter is living with gays, so she’s safe” world.
Total silence. Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. Don’t ask me why that popped into my head.
“Well, let’s get these dishes washed. They won’t clean themselves,” my mom says briskly, and we do as she says without another word.
Just before we’re about to escape, my mom asks to speak with me alone. I follow her with a sense of dread building up in my stomach. Maybe Henry has told her something about me, which he isn’t supposed to, as it breaks the family code.
“Have a seat. This won’t take long.” She points to the kitchen chair opposite the one she takes for herself. “Henry told me this morning that Drew still needs your help. Dora, part of who we are is to help others, and I’m tired of Henry’s bitching—yes, I said bitching—about you not holding up your part.”
“Tell Henry to help Drew himself then, if he thinks I’m not doing a good enough job.”
“I told him to shut up and let you be, and I haven’t heard from him since. He will not let me forget this. I swear, sometimes I just want to be normal.” My mom looks tired, and I feel guilty that I’m adding to her problems.
“I’ll try harder, Mom, but it’s difficult when the object I’m supposed to be helping is absent all the time. Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.” I get up and put my arms around her and she leans back. I kiss the top of her head. “Love you, Mom. Jeff and I have to go. We’ve got an early class tomorrow.” I kiss her cheek and we walk arm in arm back into the living room.
“So Henry didn’t tell? What a relief for you now, but if it’s your job to help Drew, then that’s what needs to happen,” Jeff says, driving back to his apartment.
“Did you see the tabloid when we went grocery shopping yesterday? Did Drew look like he needs help, or is pining for me? No. He looked happy posing with Angela. So no more talk about Drew. I’ll handle my mom if it comes up again.”
“Okay, I’ll butt out. We need to concentrate on graduating anyway, and we have no time for love.”
“Wait. What about Liam? You haven’t done anything stupid, have you?” I turn to look at him and see him smiling in the light from the dash.
“No. We’re taking it slow. It’s a new world for him, and I understand that, so we talk on the phone most nights. He’ll be gone for a month, so we’ll see.”
“I hope he sees what a catch you are. What am I saying? Your ego is big enough already. Scratch that from your memory.” We burst out laughing, and it feels good. I haven’t laughed it what seems like forever.
