Calling Card Page 5

  If I was a director in Hollywood fucking all the actresses, it would be no big deal. It’s almost expected in that industry. You want the part, you fuck the director. Modeling isn’t like that. I don’t hire the models, I just take their picture; the client I work for does all of the scouting. And let’s not forget the most important factor in all of this.

  Never. Once. Did. I. Fuck. A. Model.

  Ever.

  Well, except for when I was Briar before she made it big.

  From the moment I got my first real gig, I never even considered touching a model. Shit, Briar can vouch for that. It’s her that’s been in charge of all of the talent I have to shoot. Had I fucked one and not figured out how to get them on a cover, she would have heard about it. My PR team would have heard about it. Fuck, probably my dead mother would have heard about it.

  Putting away my phone, enough’s enough for one day. I need to get some rest and try to forget this day ever happened. Just as I’m getting ready to head to bed, Briar comes walking down the hall, having changed into a pair of cotton sleep pants and tank top. God, she’s still gorgeous.

  “Wanna watch a movie? I’m not ready for bed yet,” she asks, plopping down on the couch next to me.

  “Yeah, that’s fine. You pick.” It’d be kind of a dick move to run off on her when she opened up her home to me. I’m sure she’s lonely being here all the time with only Katelynn. If me watching a movie with her gives her a sense of normalcy, then I’ll do it.

  That’s what friends are for.

  Briar scrolls through the menu until she finds some kind of chick flick. Not what I would have picked, but hey, there aren’t too many women that will watch Bad Boys every time they see it on TV.

  *****

  The bright morning sun hits my eyelids through the partially opened curtains. Blinking away the sleepiness, I stretch my arms above my head and attempt to move my legs. Looking down, Briar’s head’s resting on my stomach and her arms and legs are wrapped around my lower extremities. I try shifting to not wake her, but I’m stuck … she’s not going to let go unless she’s awake.

  “Briar. Wake up,” I whisper, softly nudging her shoulder. She whimpers in response, tightening her hold on me.

  “Come on, time to get up, lazy.” Still nothing. Resigning my efforts, I put my arms behind my head and come to the conclusion that I’m going to have to just wait for her to get up.

  Turning my head to search for the remote, Katelynn’s sitting on the ottoman watching my every move. With her curly blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen staring back at me, her lips curl into a smile.

  “Well, good morning, Katie.”

  “Why are you and mommy sleeping on the couch?” Ah, the ever inquisitive mind of a five-year-old.

  “We were watching a movie and just fell asleep, Angel. You hungry?”

  Katelynn enthusiastically shakes her head yes, hopping down and running into the kitchen. Shifting onto my side, I manage to get my lower half out of the grips of Briar, who just rolls to face the back of the sofa and continues sleeping. It can’t be easy raising a child by yourself, so if a few extra minutes of sleep helps, I can give her that.

  Stiffly stepping into the kitchen, I finally get the full stretch I was anticipating earlier. Katelynn’s sitting on the edge of the counter, dangling her feet by the cupboards, dressed in a light pink nightgown, looking every bit the princess she is.

  “Pancakes?” I ask and her eyes twinkle.

  Katelynn is such a beautiful little girl, the spitting image of her mother. I wonder if Briar’s every considered letting Katie do some modeling. I’ll have to ask her when she gets up.

  Opting to go the easy route, I pull out the premade pancake mix from the cupboard and mix in the water while the griddle heats up. Spotting a package of chocolate chips on top of the fridge when I pull out the orange juice, I add them to my mixture and Katelynn giggles.

  “Daddy says no candy before breakfast,” she whispers, sadness behind her eyes.

  “He never said anything about candy during breakfast,” Briar says, rustling Katie’s hair and stepping around the island into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Thankfully, she was able to handle Katelynn’s response because I was at a loss. How do you talk to a five-year-old about her dead father? I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to answer that one.

  “Look, Mommy, Dex’s making us pancakes.” Briar smiles sweetly at her daughter.

  Moving next to me, she takes my hand in hers and squeezes, “Thank you,” she mutters, winking as she sips from her mug. I know she’s not thanking me for the food; it’s for the few minutes of time away from life.

  “Nothing to thank me for. You needed some rest and Katie and I needed a date.”

  Lucky for me, my grandmother taught me how to make pancakes. The girls seem to enjoy them enough to ask for seconds. After we’re all finished eating, Briar stands to clear the table, but I grab her arm, motioning her to sit.

  I take Katelynn by the hand and ask for her help, which she happily obliges. Once the dishwasher is loaded, Katie and I meet Briar in the living room, where she rushes Katelynn off to get dressed for the day.

  “Thank you for that. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a good morning like this. We’re both happy you’re here.”

  “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I say honestly.

  Katelynn reemerges from her room, dressed in black stretch pants and a hot pink top, carrying a brush and ties for her hair. Sitting on the floor, Briar starts combing her unruly curls and putting it in a ponytail.

  “Can we go to the zoo today, Mommy?”

  “Probably not today. Dex has to stay inside for a little while. Maybe next week.” When Katie’s face falls and her head dips, it pulls at my heartstrings.

  “It’s fine. Let’s go. I can manage a disguise or something.” I won’t let my predicament affect this little girl. She’s done nothing wrong and I won’t be the reason she has to sit home upset.

  “Are you sure?” Briar asks, eyeing me nervously.

  “You can brush his hair, too, Mommy. His hair’s messy like mine,” Katelynn says.

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror across the room, Katie’s right, my hair’s out of control. Shaggy brown locks hang down my forehead, nearly covering my blue eyes, and after sleeping on the couch all night, it didn’t do me any favors.

  Back in my room, I pull out a pair of baggy jeans, white tee shirt, black hoodie and a ball cap. If I can find a pair of sunglasses, I’ll be able to successfully disguise myself enough so I’m not easily identifiable. Dressing quickly, I’m back in the living room, waiting on the girls to finish up while I shove my feet in a pair of sneakers.

  “You ready?” Briar asks, pulling her hair into a ponytail as well. She really should get back to modeling. Twenty-seven years old and she doesn’t look a day over twenty-one in the face. Throw in a mother-daughter team, these two could dominate all the marketing ads with the right photographer. And I just happen to know a great one.

  “Yeah, let’s head out. I texted Nicholas to send over a car. Figured it would be easier if we weren’t having to hide while we walk.”

  “Are you sure this is okay? We can just stay in and watch some movies or something.”

  “Listen, Briar,” I say, placing one hand on her shoulder and the other under her chin, requesting she look up at me and into my eyes to know I’m serious. “I’m not here to be a burden. If this were any other time I was visiting, this wouldn’t be an issue. I don’t think it will be a problem to go to the zoo. Nobody’s expecting me to be here, especially with Briar Kennedy and her daughter. We’re going to go out and have a good day. I’m going to spoil Katelynn just like I do every other time I’m here. You’re going to let me do this, okay? I need some kind of normalcy while all this shit is busy hitting the fan.”

  She doesn’t verbalize her response, only nods her head in agreement, just in time for Katie to walk out into the hall, ready for a day of fun.
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  “Let’s go, Angel, come here.” I pick Katelynn up, setting her on my shoulders and duck as we walk out the door of their apartment.

  Here’s to a day of fun and forgetting about all the hell going on in my professional life.

  Over the next week, everything seems to be pretty quiet. For the first few days, my phone would blow up every morning with notifications of the story, if you want to call it that. Reporters were commenting on my whereabouts, even going as far as telling their readers I was spotted in different areas of the world. Anything to sell a paper or subscription, I guess.

  Nicholas had some good news for me yesterday morning, however. A large British magazine, one that’s been steering clear of all the nonsense, has requested me to shoot their fall line segment. After talking it over with Briar last night, we both agree that I need to do it. If for nothing more than to show the world I’m not hiding from them.

  Briar’s asked me if I would keep an eye on Katelynn for a few hours this evening. I’m not even sure why she felt the need to ask. Katie is my little homie and I enjoy spending time with her. I’ve decided we’re going to have a date night in, so Briar’s gone out to the store to pick up some things I need to ensure that Katie Bug has a proper evening.

  Around seven, Katelynn and I are sitting in front of the television, equipped with beef jerky, cans of cola and a bag of freshly popped popcorn, ready for our marathon of Good Luck, Charlie when Briar walks down the hall and into the living room. I peek over the back of the couch and have to do a double take.

  Briar’s wearing a low cut, black cocktail dress and she’s standing at the table by the door trying to shove her feet into some very uncomfortable black heels. Her hair’s pinned back out of her face, but cascades down her back, the stark blonde clashing with the black of the dress. Her makeup is done, but subtle enough to not know if she’s really wearing any at all. I know, but then again, I have a trained eye for that kind of thing.

  “You look beautiful, Mommy. Like a princess.” Apparently I’m not the only one gawking at Briar. Sweet little Katelynn is hanging off the back of the couch, smiling widely at her mother, and Briar’s reciprocating that look of affection.

  “Thank you, baby. I won’t be out long. You keep an eye on Dex. I don’t want him running away or drowning in the bathtub,” she jokes, winking at Katelynn.

  “Got it. I’m a really good babysitter, Dex. You’re safe with me.”

  Nudging Katie’s shoulder, I get off the couch and meet Briar in the foyer. With her heels, she’s only a few inches shorter than me and able to look me in the eye. I resist every temptation to put my hands on her slender waist, but when she looks up at me through her lashes, I nearly lose my composure. Almost.

  “Where ya going? I figured you were gonna go out with the girls for a while, but this is most certainly not hitting up Olive Garden attire,” I say, attempting a joke, yet neither one of us laugh.

  “I really hope I’m not going to Olive Garden. Mike should be here any minute to pick me up and I think we’re going to this new place downtown. The reviews on it so far are excellent.”

  Mike? Who the fuck is Mike? I’ve been here a week and she’s never once mentioned that she was dating anyone, especially a Mike. Shit, I’ve talked to her every night for nearly six months and I’ve never once heard the name.

  “That’s wonderful. Have a good night, and if you need me, I’m only a phone call away,” I say, trying to play off my frustration. Wait. Why am I frustrated? She’s going on a date, no big deal, right? Being in this house with all women is doing something to my testosterone levels or something. I’m starting to act like a jealous woman. Jealous? Shit. I’m starting to feel extremely lucky that I was offered that job in London. I need a change of scenery.

  “Alright,” she says flatly, not making eye contact with me and moving to step toward the door. “You guys have a good night. See you in the morning, Katie,” she blows a kiss to her daughter. As she turns the handle, she looks over her shoulder and gives me a tight lipped smile. Her posture immediately reminding me of the image hanging on the adjacent wall—the one that I shot the day I met her. She’s more beautiful today than she was that day.

  *****

  Two hours later, Katie’s passed out on the couch, a piece of jerky hanging out of her mouth, as the final episode of Good Luck, Charlie plays across the screen. Pausing the TV, I save it for her to watch in the morning and carry her off to bed.

  Once she’s safely tucked in, I head into Briar’s bedroom to take a shower and get ready for some sleep myself. I’m a little concerned that she’s not back yet, but she’s a big girl, I’m sure she can handle herself. Turning on the music app on my phone, the sounds of The Clash sing through the speakers quietly as I shower.

  When I’m done, I almost expect Briar to be in her room, but upon entering, it’s the same way I left it. After drying off, I slip into a pair of sweat pants and lie down on Briar’s bed, deciding now’s a good a time as any to go through today’s notifications, just to be sure I’m not the topic of conversation anymore. Thankfully, just like Briar said before, some celebrity has gotten his third DUI and all the rag outlets are covering that, forgetting all about little old me.

  The longer Briar stays gone, the more I worry. I contemplate calling her cell, just to make sure she’s alright, but then I remind myself that I have a penis. As I scroll through my email, something isn’t settling right with me. It’s probably the daunting amount of unopened messages I have and has nothing to do with the fact that Briar’s been gone a really long time with a guy I’ve never heard of before.

  Somewhere between playing a game of Candy Crush and trolling Twitter out of boredom, I manage to pass out, still in Briar’s bed, only to be woken up when the opposite side of the bed dips with her weight. The only reason I know it’s her, is because I can smell the cherry scent lingering on her skin from her last shower. It couldn’t have been a very good date if she still smells like body wash and not a man’s cologne.

  Lying there, somewhere in the state where you’re not really sleeping, yet you’re not awake, I debate getting out of her bed and going back to my room, but something holds me still. Not physically, but I can’t bring myself to leave her just yet. I was always most comfortable when we would just sit in bed and talk about nothing, but everything at the same time.

  Rolling toward her, I wrap my arm around her middle, dragging her across the mattress to my body and put my other arm under her pillow. “Have a good time?” I ask, wanting her to know I’m conscious of my actions.

  Who am I kidding? I’m not even sure what it is that I’m doing. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough. I need to get my fucking head on straight.

  “It was nice. The food was excellent,” she whispers, cuddling closer to me, placing her hand under the pillow as well and lightly brushing against my fingers.

  Nestling my face in her hair, inhaling the warm vanilla scent of her locks, I sigh. Jesus Christ. Sighing now?

  “It’s been so long since a man’s held me.” Why when she says that my dick starts to get hard, I’m not sure, but it’s unnerving. Since we broke things off before Erik, we’ve had a strictly platonic relationship. Not even a flirty text message between us. These quickly blurring lines are worrisome. I can’t go back there with her, but I can’t make myself leave.

  “Not even Mike?” I ask, not wanting her to answer.

  “We’ve only been on a few dates. He’s a nice guy. Katie seems to like him.” My hold on her tightens when she brings up Katelynn. They’re not serious, but he’s met her daughter? “Lighten up, Dex. I’m not choking, no need for the Heimlich,” she jokes. I don’t find it very funny.

  “I’m gonna go back to my room.” Removing my arm from her waist, she grabs hold of my fingers under the pillow before I can fully sit up, holding me in place.

  “Don’t go. This is nice.”

  Get up, Dexter. Leave the room. She’s not yours. You don’t want her.

  Unfortunately, my conscien
ce doesn’t agree with my body, and as I lie back down, our bodies flush together. I’m so fucked. I manage to keep my arm from going around her middle, but it lands on the outside of her thigh and hip. My damn fingers have a mind of their own. Regardless of how much I try to place my palm flat and as platonic as possible, those damn digits start rubbing light circles on soft skin.

  Why couldn’t she just let me leave? Or, better yet, why does she have to wear these tiny-ass shorts?

  Being like this, with Briar, it brings up some really good memories for me. If things would have worked out differently, we could have been really good together. We had amazing sex, great chemistry and aligned goals, but something was missing. It had to be love, because when she found it with Erik, everything seemed to click perfectly in place for her.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Briar. I truly do, but not the way that a man should love his woman. What I have to offer would have never been enough to make our relationship last, and I think she knew that. Instead of ending on bad terms, we both chalked it up to wrong place, wrong time.

  But now? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give her what she’ll need, especially after having that with Erik. No matter what special kind of dick he was, they loved each other with everything they had. They were soul mates.

  The only relationship I can see myself in long-term, is with my camera.

  Balling my hand into a fist, I think I just might be able to lie here without caressing her. Of course, then she decides to scoot back, rubbing her ass all over my dick. Call it habit or muscle memory—whatever you want to call it really—but I react, dipping my head to the exposed skin of her neck, right where it meets her shoulder, and pepper light kisses.

  “Dex,” Briar moans and my cock fires to life. Thrusting my hips forward, I show her exactly what she does to me and how my body responds to hers.

  Trailing my lips over her shoulder and around to her back, I take my hand off her thigh and lift her hair and trace the only tattoo she has with my tongue. Briar whimpers and rolls over to face me, draping her leg over mine and getting as close as possible.