Fated (12 page)

I
took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation. "What happened
Saturday was a mistake. A mistake that we can never repeat."

"Why?"

I
wanted to shake Caden, to put some sense into his stubborn head. He seemed to
be of the mindset that if it felt good, it was okay. That was a school of
thought that I could never subscribe to.

"I
feel like a broken record." I paused before continuing, trying to take the
bite out of my words. Getting angry wouldn't do any good. "I'm not going
to go through all the reasons again. Please just respect the fact that I don't
want to take our relationship beyond a professional capacity."

"Let
me photograph you."

I
had the sudden urge to pick up the vase of calla lilies and throw it at him in
frustration. A laugh slipped out at the thought of Caden’s face if I did that,
causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise

"That's
not exactly the reaction I was expecting. I thought you'd either punch me or
agree." I was slightly impressed that my laughter in response to his
intimate request hadn't angered him. He merely looked curious, as if he wanted
to share in the amusement.

"Caden,"
I started, once I had my emotions under control. "The last thing I'm going
to do is strip naked and let you take pictures of me. Pretty soon you'll be
telling me that you can get me a big Hollywood gig, if only I pose nude for
you."

He
frowned, not sharing the humor of my statement. "Is that what you think of
me?"

I
shook my head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "No, of course I
don't think you're a sleazy opportunist trying to take advantage of me. I was
just making a bad joke." I paused, realizing that I truly believed he had
no underhanded motives. For all the reservations I had about Caden, that was never
one of them. "First of all, I know you're tired of hearing this, but it's
inappropriate because I work for you. Second of all, I'm not some leggy
model." I didn't let the fact that several of Caden's pictures featured
women with real bodies affect my argument. "Third, I just don't want to. I
would never be comfortable with it."

Caden's
eyes studied me before he spoke. "I never said you had to be nude. You
would be in total control of what happens during the photo shoot. I'm not the
one in power when I'm taking photographs. I'm simply the observer capturing
what my model chooses to share with me. All the power and control would be in
your hands."

He
couldn't have known how effective this tactic would be. I had been striving to
have power and control over my own life for as long as I could remember.
Caden's words were tempting and I felt an insidious urge to agree. The passion
and sensuality I had seen in the women he captured in his photographs made me
jealous. I had never felt so free with my own body, so sure of my own responses
and able to revel in being a woman. I couldn't deny my craving for it, and I
wondered if Caden could bring those feelings out of me during a photo session.

I
shook my head, trying to keep the temptations at bay. "Why would you even
want to photograph me? I thought you were taking a break."

"I
can't deny the urge when I see someone I need to photograph." Caden's eyes
darkened. "No one has to see these pictures besides you and me. They can
be private."

The
low, gravelly tone of his voice should have been a warning sign, but instead it
made me want to agree.

"I'll
think about it." I took a deep breath, wondering if I was taking a step I
would forever regret. Even considering the prospect of letting Caden photograph
me seemed dangerous, but I couldn't stop the words from spilling out of me.

I
composed myself, trying to appear as if this conversation wasn't disconcerting
me. "But that has nothing to do with what happened on Saturday. We can't
cross that line again."

Caden
frowned. "Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen." With
that enigmatic remark, he stood fluidly and walked to his desk. My gaze rested
on the flowers, and I almost asked him about it, but I swallowed the words at
the last minute. I could only take so much, and I didn't know if I could handle
Caden's admission that he had indeed been replacing the calla lilies.

I
was grateful when the phone started ringing non-stop, giving me something to
concentrate on. The morning went by without incident, although I could never
fully dismiss Caden's presence. Thankfully, he was engrossed in whatever he was
doing at his desk and didn't say much to me unless it was to comment about a
call I had answered.

It
was noon and I was contemplating leaving the office for lunch when Caden
interrupted me.

"Lauren,
I need you to go to Mitchell Hanson's studio and drop off a print for me."

I
nodded, eager to have an excuse to leave the office. I had an irrational fear
that Caden would try to join me for lunch if I said I was eating out, but now I
had the perfect opportunity to get some space to clear my head.

I
had learned who Mitchell Hanson was once I started working for Caden. He was a
hotshot photographer, but unlike Caden who photographed solely for art, Hanson
was
the
photographer for top fashion magazines. While Caden was famous mostly in the
art world, Mitchell Hanson was revered by both the art and fashion world.

Apparently,
he was also a fan of Caden's work because this wasn't the first photograph he
had bought from Caden, although this would be the first time I would be
dropping it off at his studio since they were usually too big to hand deliver.

Caden
handed me a sealed package when I walked over to his desk with an address
written on it. "It's across town. Don't take the subway. Take a cab."

"Okay,
thanks," I said, taking the package. I was appreciative of the fact that
he didn't want me trucking across town on the subway in heels.

He
hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, but then just turned back to
his computer, dismissing me.

The
cab ride took longer than I anticipated due to traffic, and it took half an
hour to reach Mitchell Hanson's studio. Unlike Caden's studio, Hanson's studio
was strictly business and occupied the third floor of a sleek office building.

"I'm
Caden Riley's assistant. I'm here to drop off a photograph for Mitchell
Hanson," I told the receptionist when I reached the third floor.

"Sherry
can take that for you, hold on." The receptionist briskly picked up the
phone.

"Caden
Riley's assistant is here to drop off a package," the receptionist said
into the phone. She listened for a few seconds before speaking again.
"Okay, no problem."

I
looked at the receptionist expectantly when she hung up the phone.

"Just
go ahead through to the showroom. Sherry has her hands full right now and can't
come out, so you can just drop it off to her there." She then proceeded to
explain how to get to the studio, and I nodded while I hoped I was able to
navigate the complicated directions.

I
was relieved when I found the showroom with ease and knocked on the open door.
A woman who looked like she was in her late thirties looked up from thumbing
through papers.

"You
must be Caden's assistant," she said with a smile, looking harried but
friendly. "Thanks for coming back here. I'm swamped right now, and if I
walk away I'll probably forget what the hell I'm doing."

"No
problem," I said, instantly liking her openness and candor. I looked down
at the package. "Where should I put this?"

Sherry
nodded towards the large conference table. "Just set it there,
thanks."

I
glanced at the large pictures that dominated the walls as I set the package
down. Famous faces looked back at me, and I recognized a few from magazine
covers.

Sherry
stuck her hand out. "I'm Sherry Hasser, by the way. Mitchell's
assistant."

I
shook her hand. "Lauren Sloan. Nice to meet you."

Despite
Sherry's claim that she was busy, she leaned closer, speaking conspiratorially.
"So how do you like working for Caden?"

I
was instantly on alert, no longer appreciating her friendliness. "I'm just
working for him temporarily, but it's fine. Caden's a good boss."

Sherry
laughed. "I bet he is." She wrinkled her nose. "I bet he doesn't
call you at one o'clock in the morning because his toilet's clogged and he
can't handle the damn problem himself." Sherry shook her head in disgust.
"Mitchell is absolutely helpless without me. I wouldn't be surprised if he
asked me to wipe his ass."

I
didn't know what else to do but nod at Sherry's comment. Not only was it crass,
but it seemed disloyal, especially since we had just met. And I didn't know if
the comment about betting Caden was a good boss was an envious observation or
if she was trying to infer something else. I also realized how easy I had it
with Caden. Even though he claimed I was his personal assistant, he only had me
run personal errands for him every now and then. Mostly, I just felt like his
admin. I didn't let myself think about Saturday night, when he had treated me
more personally than I had ever expected.

"Well,
have a good day," I said lamely, wanting to escape Sherry's curious eyes.

"Wait."
Sherry's voice was hushed as she glanced behind me. I assumed she wanted to
make sure no one was outside the door. "Is it true what they say about
Caden? That he sleeps with all his models and that he's the one that drives
them to climax before he takes pictures of them? I heard that he treats women
like Kleenex–he uses them then throws them away."

The
lascivious gleam in Sherry's eyes repulsed me and I retracted my first
impression of her. Even without the confidentiality agreement that Caden had me
sign, I would never gossip about him with this vulture.

"Caden's
business is his own, but I know that above all else, he has integrity," I
replied coldly. "Which is more than I can say about people who gossip
about others with no basis in fact."

I
turned on my heel, feeling so angry that I felt a little shaky. I knew I was
flushed as I quickly walked out of the showroom, ignoring Sherry spluttering
protests behind me.

I
walked for five blocks, practically jogging as anger propelled me, when I
realized I wasn't even walking in the right direction to the office. I took a
deep breath, calming myself. I wasn't sure why Sherry's remarks had made me so
angry. Sure, they were crude, but that didn't explain the fury I felt when she
spoke about Caden like he was some lecherous exploiter. She could be right. I
had no idea what Caden did with his models, and no idea about his personal
life. But I was convinced that he wasn't some degenerate who used women and
then tossed them aside.

I
realized that it was more than my protective instincts that made me so angry at
Sherry. Even though I told him nothing would happen between us, I wasn’t
successful in completely banishing the possibility. I wondered if I really
believed that Sherry’s accusations weren’t true, or if I had gotten so angry
because I didn't
want
them to be true. The question worried me as I finally caught a cab back to the
office.

I
picked up a salad before returning and was relieved to find Caden gone. I sat
down and attempted to eat my lunch, although I didn't have much of an appetite.
Now that the haze of anger had dissipated, I was able to think through my
exchange with Sherry more clearly. I realized that even without anger clouding
my judgment, I still believed that Caden wasn't the type of man Sherry had
described. I wondered if I was a fool.

I
was on edge when Caden returned to the office much later in the afternoon, and
I was relieved that it was almost time for me to leave.

"Kate
said she couldn't get a hold of you on your cell phone. She called here looking
for you," I said. As long as I kept our conversation work-related, maybe I
could escape without having to revisit Caden's earlier request to photograph me.
All the emotional turmoil was getting to me, and as a result I had a splitting
headache.

"I
turned off my phone. Apparently, more people know my number than I'd like. I'll
call her back later."

I
handed Caden a stack of messages when he stopped in front of my desk. "You
have a lot of other messages, but nothing urgent."

He
took the messages from me without looking at them, studying me instead.
"Are you okay?"

"I'm
fine." I tried to keep my face expressionless, attempting to mask the
turbulent emotions inside me.

Caden
pressed his lips together but didn't push anymore. He disappeared into his
studio and I didn't see him again for the rest of the day.

My
interactions with Caden the next few days were friendly but professional. He
acted like he had never asked to photograph me, like he had never kissed me
passionately. I told myself I should be happy with this development, but the
truth was, it made me miserable. I was acutely aware of what a mess I was. I
kept saying I wanted one thing, yet I longed for another. I was starting to
annoy myself, unused to these confusing emotions that I had never had to deal
with before. My interactions with men had been pretty straight forward as an
adult. If they showed interest, either I dismissed them or considered them as a
possible romantic interest if I felt they were pliable enough. I felt safe
around men who agreed with me, who were weak-willed and happy for me to call
the shots. The instant they became demanding, wanting more, I immediately ended
the relationship. Admittedly, I ended up severing the relationship even if they
didn't become demanding because I got irritated with their pandering. I had
realized long ago that I was messed up when it came to relationships, not happy
with what I told myself I wanted, yet unwilling to take the risk for more.
Knowing that fact didn't make it any easier.