Authors: Debbi Rawlins
“Doing what?”
“Reading a book.”
“Where?”
“In my den in front of the fire.”
“Alone?” she asked, annoyed at how eagerly she wanted the answer.
“Does my dog count?”
She grinned. “Absolutely. What’s his name?”
“
Her
name is Tofu.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Best female friend I ever had. She comes when I call. Keeps me warm at night. Always glad to see me when I get home. No bitching, pardon the pun.”
She gave him her best Freudian look. “So how long has it been since you’ve harbored this dislike for women?”
“I like women fine. But the ones holding cameras make me a little nervous.”
“Good, then the sooner you cooperate, the sooner you’ll get rid of me.”
He chuckled. “You remind me of my friend’s little sister. Seth and I grew up together, and whether we liked it or not, Emily used to tag along sometimes. She was quick and never let me get away with anything. Couldn’t charm that one.” He shook his head, the fondness of the memory lingering in his eyes.
Madison forced a smile. The comparison shouldn’t have stung. She was always the girl next door, or someone’s little sister…basically a nonentity. It had never bothered her. Not really. So why now?
Damn it.
His smile started to fade, and she realized she’d missed the perfect photo op. The real Jack Logan. The boy from Nebraska who’d made good.
She. Was. An. Idiot. If she didn’t meet her deadline she’d have no one to blame but herself for being so unprofessional. Besides, nothing he said or did was about her.
The curious look he gave her brought her to her senses, and in her best businesslike voice said, “Tell me about your climb to the top.”
“This is the top?”
“Most people would think so.”
“Yeah.”
There she went again. Too curious. Too interested. Hard not to be, though, with the acerbic way he’d sounded. “Okay, if this isn’t your ideal career, what would be?”
“The career is fine.”
“But?”
He pursed his lips, his expression thoughtful. “Off the record?”
“Nothing we say or do here goes to print. Or is repeated.” No matter how much Shelly tried to pry anything out of her. “I’m only interested in capturing your essence. Not just the celebrity but the man.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It’s not like I’m gonna reveal your deepest darkest secrets. They’re just photographs.”
“Just photographs,” he repeated flatly.
She shrugged. “It’s not rocket science.”
His frown deepened and disappointment flickered in his face. He stared at her too long. “I want to see your work.”
Madison tensed. “Like I said—”
“Now.”
She choked out a laugh. “Now?”
“Where do you live?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Obviously, he wasn’t, and her stomach clenched painfully. What the hell was going on?
“We’ll get a cab. Be back in time to wrap up.”
“Stalling isn’t going to do you a bit of good.”
“I’m not stalling. I realize we have to finish the shoot.”
“Then can we please do that?” She didn’t feel nearly as composed as she hoped she sounded. Something in his eyes told her he wasn’t playing with her. His interest was genuine. She just didn’t understand why.
He pushed a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. “I really do want to see your work. But I understand you have a deadline.”
“Thank you.”
“I give you my word we’ll finish in time.”
Reassured, she sighed.
“Even if we have to spend the night.” He smiled.
J
ACK HADN’T BEEN
totally forthright. He’d already seen some of Madison’s work. Her published work, anyway. He wouldn’t have agreed to do the shoot otherwise—no matter what kind of pressure the network imposed. What good would beefcake or sloppy pictures do for his career?
He still hated the whole idea, but at least her work was good. He’d seen the celebrity shots. Jack personally knew a number of them and recognized that Madison had done an amazing job of capturing the different facets of their personalities in only a few photographs. She had a gift.
At first all Jack cared about was that she did him justice. But he liked her. Even beyond the physical chemistry that had taken him by surprise. Larry had been right. She was driven and ambitious, hungry for success, in the same way Jack had been early in his career.
Before he’d sold out for fame and money.
No, damn it. He hadn’t sold out. That was part of the climb. You had to go along until you had enough power to call your own shots. The trick was not waiting too long. Not waiting until you had more at risk than you were willing to give up.
“You’re not serious,” she said, staring at him with those fascinating wide brown eyes. “About spending the night.”
He dragged his mind back to the conversation. “If that’s what it takes.”
She moistened her lips, her brows drawing together to form a slight crease. “That shouldn’t be necessary.”
“I have no ulterior motive, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Uh, no.” She laughed. “Didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Ah, you probably already have plans tonight.”
“No, I mean, well, yeah. Sort of.” She groaned and stalked across the room to look out the window. “Tonight just wouldn’t work.”
“How about tomorrow night?”
She squinted at him. “You’d have to get up early Monday to do your show.”
“I have Monday off.”
“Oh.” She seemed disappointed or maybe annoyed. “I have another assignment tomorrow afternoon.”
“Right.”
“I do.”
He nodded, irritated with himself for showing he was put off with her lack of enthusiasm. “It was just a thought. No problem.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I’m gonna humble myself again. Sheesh, twice in one day.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I know.” She shrugged, and the problem finally dawned on him. “I’m gonna be really famous one day. And rich, but—”
“You aren’t yet. I get it, and I applaud your optimism.
It’s imperative you feel that way so the hard knocks won’t get you down. Persistence often wins in the end.”
She grinned. “Well, I’m that if nothing else.”
“You’re much more than that, Madison.”
She blinked and then looked away. “The sky is incredibly blue right now. It would make a great background shot for the pool since it’s glass-enclosed.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She gave him a blank look.
“The four stooges?”
“Oh.” She laughed. “On second thought, maybe the pool isn’t such a great idea.”
He well and truly liked her laugh. “About spending the night, think about it. My treat.” At her quick protest, he held up his hand. “I’ll put it on my expense account if it would make you feel any better,” he said, even though he had no intention of sticking his boss like that. “That’s the least the network can do for pressuring me into this.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He smiled. “No reflection on you or your professional ability.”
“I don’t know.” The glimmer of excitement in her eyes took the wind out of her words. “It seems unnecessary.”
“Weren’t you wondering what it would be like to stay in one of these suites ‘for real’?”
Her eyes widened. “Do you know how much the suites cost?”
“Yes.”
“Plus we’d need two rooms.”
He didn’t say anything at first, but then reluctantly nodded. No denying he wanted her. More than he’d wanted a woman in a long time. But he wouldn’t push.
She moistened her lips, her tongue making a slow sweeping motion as if purposely trying to make him crazy. “We’re not just talking about the shoot, are we?”
At the growing excitement she seemed unable to disguise, he sucked in a breath. “That’s up to you.”
She blinked, her mouth parting, before she abruptly turned away and went into full business mode, fiddling with her camera and then poking in her bag and withdrawing another camera, this one digital.
He said nothing, just waited patiently for her to finish. What was there to say? He’d basically admitted that he wanted to spend the night together. And he was pretty damn sure she did, too.
M
ADISON
,
WHO TOOK PRIDE
in being early to any appointment be it professional or social, got to Shelly’s Family Portraits with only five minutes to spare. She’d overslept after a night of tossing and turning, with intermittent dreams of Jack Logan that had been so deliciously naughty she could have easily stayed in bed the entire day.
He’d really thrown her for a loop with his suggestion they spend the night at Hush. It sure had blown the rest of the day. Her concentration had hung on by a thread and when she got home and looked at the sloppy digital shots she’d taken, she realized how much he’d gotten to her.
Of course all she could think about was whether she should or shouldn’t sleep with him. Of course she wanted to. He was sexy and intelligent and not at all arrogant as she might have expected. The chemistry was certainly there. But she had to finish the shoot first.
That was only partly why she’d left him dangling yesterday. Why she hadn’t given him an answer about spending the night yet.
She smiled to herself thinking about the expectant look he’d given her at the end of the day, and when she’d told him she’d get back to him the next morning, he seemed disappointed. But the truth was, she still wasn’t sure that she wanted to cross that line. She was waiting for that magic moment when she knew that having sex with him was totally what she was supposed to do.
She sighed as she started to unlock the door and found it open.
Unexpectedly, Shelly, who normally took Sundays off, was sitting at the front desk leafing through the latest issue of
People.
She looked up with an eager glint in her eyes that Madison fully expected but dreaded nonetheless.
“Hey.” Madison preempted the anticipated barrage of questions with, “I have a favor to ask.”
“Whoa. Back up. You can’t do that.”
“I haven’t even asked you yet.”
“Girl, you know darn well what I mean.” Shelly promptly set the magazine aside and leaned forward. “I want to hear everything. Every last teensy weensy detail.”
“I have to get set up.”
“I did that for you already.” She got up and followed Madison into the back room. Not only had Shelly set up the wintry backdrop the customer had requested, but the place had been rearranged. The inventory of varying sized chairs even looked polished. “I didn’t want to give you any excuse for not dishing up the dirt.”
Madison sighed. “There is no dirt. What are you doing here, anyway? It’s your day off.”
“For goodness’ sake, you know what I mean.” She pursed her bright pink lips in that practiced pout that Madison had seen so many times it was almost a trademark. “I’m not lookin’ for real dirt, just some juicy stuff.”
Watching the older woman waiting excitedly, like an addict looking for a fix, Madison suddenly got a funny feeling in her stomach. She’d known Shelly for almost four years but it was as if she was seeing her for the first time. What she saw made her incredibly sad. The woman was lonely.
After living life as a big fish in a small pond, the darling of Circleville, Texas, had come to New York expecting to find the red carpet to stardom. But there were so many women prettier, more talented, more connected than Shelly, and no matter how hard she’d tried or how long she stayed in the game, she quickly found that whatever she had to offer, simply wasn’t enough.
Shelly had little social life, no close friends to speak of, only this small studio and her tabloid magazines that she read with too much fervor. Using her day off to needlessly clean up the studio.
For her, persistence hadn’t paid off.
The idea gave Madison a chill.
Hey, they were totally different personalities. Had different goals. And Madison was much more realistic in her expectations. She thought about Jack, about them spending the night at the hotel that evening, and nearly choked. Hell, she could hardly sleep thinking about the possibilities. Yeah, that was realistic, all right.
She smiled at Shelly, suddenly feeling more compassionate toward her. “Problem is, there isn’t anything juicy to tell. Seriously,” she added at Shelly’s frown of disbelief. “He’s totally gorgeous, which you already know, and equally nice and polite, but he isn’t happy about doing the spread and I wish he were more cooperative.”
She looked disappointed and not totally convinced. “Did you get what you need?”
“Not really. That’s part of the favor I was going to ask. I need to develop what I’ve shot so far.”
Shelly’s eyes lit up. “So far? You’re meeting with him again?”
Madison nodded, annoyed with herself for the slip. At least she hadn’t mentioned tonight.
“When?”
“We haven’t discussed that yet.” Before the lie left her lips, she turned away to check the camera already on the tripod. “His schedule is hectic.”
“I can help you develop them,” Shelly offered.
Madison hesitated at first, but saw no harm. “Thanks. That would be great.”
“I don’t suppose that when you see him again you’d let me meet him.”
“Shelly, you know better.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.” She shrugged, her bright pink lips curving. “Give me the rolls and I’ll get started while you take care of the Wilson kids.”
Foolish how reluctant she was to give up the film. For a moment she thought about giving up the job instead. Let Shelly deal with the Wilsons. But the power bill was due next week and she needed the money.
She dug into her bag and handed over ten rolls. “I
don’t expect to get them all done this afternoon. I just want to see how he’s coming across.”
Shelly’s brows arched over her heavily made-up eyes. “Is there any doubt?”
“Like I said, he wasn’t the most cooperative subject.”
“I know you’ve looked at the digital shots already.”
Madison nodded, hoping she wasn’t blushing down to her toes. “Last night when I got home.” She’d studied each one a dozen times until she could close her eyes and still see every detail of his perfect face. “They were okay. But I have to do better. Maybe there’ll be a couple in this batch I can submit.”
The door in front opened and she could hear the Wilson brood enter. According to Shelly, they’d been in once before and Madison had taken their family portrait, but she couldn’t remember them. Good sign. It meant the kids hadn’t been a problem.
“I’ll get started on these,” Shelly said, and quickly headed for the dark room.
Madison sighed, put on a happy face and went to greet her customers. Her smile faltered as soon as she saw the lineup of children. Five of them. All under the age of eight, she guessed.
“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.”
The beleaguered-looking woman fisted a child’s sleeve in each hand. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She eyed the freckle-faced boy captured on her right. “We had a little incident on the subway.”
“No problem. Which one of these little angels are we shooting today?”
“All of them.”
“Great.” Just
great.
“Mom!” The freckle-faced boy let out an ear-piercing wail and tried to twist free. “Did you hear what that lady said? She’s gonna shoot us.”
“Tommy, be quiet. That’s not what she meant.”
“She’s gonna shoot us?” one of the other kids asked with wide eyes before she started crying, too.
Madison put two fingers to her throbbing temple. Amazingly, above the noise, she heard her cell phone ring. She snatched it from her pocket and in the confusion, did something she never did. Answered before checking Caller ID.
Never mind. It was too late.
It was Jack.
J
ACK LOUNGED
in his favorite burgundy leather recliner, stationed at precisely the right distance for maximum quality viewing from his sixty-inch, wide-screen television, and idly flipped through the channels.
He had it all. An apartment in Manhattan, a house in Connecticut, both professionally designed and customized to his every need or whim. He had a driver to take him anywhere he wanted to go, even Atlantic City or Washington, D.C., if the idea grabbed him. Tickets to any and all Broadway plays were his for the asking. So were invitations to the most sought-after parties on both coasts. He should be on top of the world. He wasn’t.
Not that he lacked appreciation. But something was definitely lacking.
Today the television was on mostly for noise. Normally he’d be watching the other news stations, studying, analyzing. But his thoughts kept going back to yesterday. More accurately, to Madison Tate.
As if he hadn’t already given her enough mental air time last night when he should have been sleeping. She wasn’t going to be happy when she saw the dark circles under his eyes today. That is, if she ever called.
He looked over at the phone. What the hell? He grabbed it and let speed dial take over. Presumptuously he’d programmed her cell number into his phone last night.
“Madison?” It sounded like kids screaming in the background. Had he gotten the wrong number?
“Jack.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“Well, yeah, sort of.” The background noise quieted as if she’d walked away from it.
“Want to call me back?”
Her laugh was shaky. “That would be good.”
“Okay.”
She hung up without another word. Without appeasing his curiosity. Without reassurance. He took a deep breath and stared at the muted television. They couldn’t be her kids. She would’ve said something if she had kids. Wouldn’t she?
The phone buzzed and for a second he thought it might be her, until he realized it wasn’t really the phone but the intercom. He answered the doorman, who had Larry downstairs wanting to come up.