Hot Spot (12 page)

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Authors: Debbi Rawlins

BOOK: Hot Spot
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Jack didn’t particularly feel like talking to anyone, but Larry seldom visited, and anyway, he’d feel like a jerk if he refused. Grudgingly he pushed off the recliner and went to the door, opened it and headed back to his chair in the den.

Seconds later he heard the door close, but Larry didn’t appear right away. Jack wasn’t concerned. Knowing his friend, he’d probably stopped to help himself to a drink first.

Sure enough, scotch in hand, Larry entered the den. “You always leave your door open like that?” Larry stopped and stared before slowly sinking down into the adjacent sofa. “What’s wrong with you? You look like hell.”

Jack yawned noisily. “You came across town to tell me that?”

“It’s noon. You haven’t shaved. Your eyes are puffy and dark.”

“You forgot to mention I’m still in my robe.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s my day off. I’m relaxing.”

“Right.” Larry took a thoughtful sip of his scotch. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“Unlike you, I wait until a decent hour before imbibing. That is, when I think I can afford the indulgence without feeling guilty as hell.”

“I thought you’d be in a good mood with yesterday being behind you.” He muttered a curse. “Is that what this is about? You screwed up yesterday.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

“Man, you are acting strange.”

Jack sighed. “Yesterday went fine. I just have a lot on my mind.” He contemplated the wisdom of asking, but he couldn’t help himself. “You wouldn’t happen to know if Madison has any kids.”

“The photographer?” Larry reared his head back. “How would I know that?” He narrowed his gaze. “Why?”

“I just got off the phone with her and there sounded like a bunch of kids screaming in the background.”

Larry tipped his glass back again, and then studied Jack with too much curiosity.

“What did you come over for, anyway?” Jack asked before the conversation went in an unwanted direction. He trusted Larry, often asked him for advice, but discussing Madison on a personal level seemed wrong somehow. Too private.

“To see how yesterday went.”

“It was okay.”

“She got what she wanted?”

“I don’t know.”

Larry frowned. “Tate didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d leave a doubt.”

He smiled at the fitting assessment of her. “That’s about right.”

“So?”

“We haven’t finished.”

“So that’s why you’re moping. How are you going to squeeze another session in?”

“I’m not moping. I’m pondering. And we’re meeting later today.”

“With you looking like this?”

“I know how to take care of the dark circles.”

Larry paused, probably weighing the wisdom of his next question. With good reason. He wouldn’t like the answer. But he’d ask nevertheless. “What are you pondering?”

Jack smiled. “My life. My career.”

“One and the same, my friend. Best you remember that.”

Jack lost the smile. He didn’t need it rubbed in.

“You have only a week and a half to sign the new contract. I hope you’ve reviewed it.”

“I’ve reviewed it.” And he’d done some crossing out and made his own amendments. But he didn’t want to get into that with Larry right now. For the first time in their professional relationship, they were on opposite sides of the fence. Larry would never understand and Jack didn’t expect him to.

“So what do you think?”

“It’s my day off, Larry.” He got to his feet. “Catch me at the office on Tuesday.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Don’t worry. No surprises.”

“Well now, that worries me. I was hoping you’d surprise me and finally see reason.”

“Look, I don’t have time to discuss this right now. Madison will be calling at any minute and I need to be ready.”

Larry’s face creased in a speculative frown but he said nothing as he pushed off the couch. He followed Jack out of the den and it would have been difficult for him not to notice the overnight bag Jack had packed and set near the coat closet.

Jack didn’t care. In fact, good. Maybe Larry got the hint. Anybody who tried to reach him before tomorrow night was just gonna be shit out of luck.

11

“H
I
.” W
EARING JEANS
again, a blouse and a cream sweater-coat that covered too much, Madison met him in the lobby, which fortunately was empty, or admittedly he wouldn’t have stayed visible. Looking a little flushed, she had a small overnighter in one hand and her camera bag slung over her shoulder.

“Let me take that for you.” He tried to reach for the overnight bag, but she shook her head.

“I’m good. Have you checked in yet?”

“Yep. Here’s your key.”

She briefly glanced around before accepting the plastic card.

He realized what it looked like, especially with her holding a piece of luggage. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” She shrugged, her gaze searching his face, lingering on his unshaven chin. A small appreciative smile curved her lips. “I didn’t want to compromise you.”

That startled a laugh out of him.

Her eyes widened slightly and then she looked down at her hands. “I didn’t see any paparazzi outside but—Anyway, I’m sure no one would think that you were with me.”

“That’s exactly what they’d think.” He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but it didn’t sound good. “I’m sorry I hadn’t considered your privacy.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled and everything was okay again. “But if we do make the tabloids, make sure they think I’m a famous photographer.”

He smiled back, but the comment pricked him like a needle. Probably meant nothing. But he’d been used too many times for publicity. “You have a tripod or any other equipment outside?”

“Nope. It’s just you, me and the camera.”

“You sure I can’t carry that for you?” He tried to take her overnight bag again but she wouldn’t let go.

“Trust me, it looks better if I carry it.”

“Sorry, but my mama would roll over in her grave if she saw me walking empty-handed alongside a woman carrying a bag.”

Madison had already headed for the elevator, as if she were going with or without him. “It’s the twenty-first century. It’s okay.”

He absently pressed the up button. “That it is. Still hard to believe.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The elevator doors opened and he followed her inside. He used his key card for the penthouse floor. “What did you do for the millennium?”

She frowned. “Couldn’t have been exciting. I don’t remember. Oh, no, wait. I was at a party with my friend Karrie. Nothing special. What about you?”

“I worked.”

“Really?”

“My choice.”

“At the studio?”

“No, I was in Hong Kong.”

She snorted. “Ah, gee, tough assignment.”

He smiled. “Ever been there?”

“Hong Kong? The farthest I’ve been is Orlando. I went to Disney World twelve years ago with my parents and sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

She grinned. “Why would you?”

“Good point.” He wanted to know about her. He wanted to see that damn navel ring again. “Does she live here?”

“Nope. Her husband got transferred to Los Angeles about a year ago. She wants me to go visit, and I will. But right now it’s hard with work.”

“With your job I’d think you’d be traveling a lot.”

She gave him a wistful smile. “Someday I’ll cover the globe. I hope.”

He kept forgetting she was a freelancer and that money might be tight. It had been a long time since he’d had such worries. Granted, he now had enough money invested that he’d never be poor no matter what he did. But how much did he truly want to give up? That was the burning question. The one that sometimes kept him awake at night.

The elevator doors opened and he led her to the Westwood Suite.

She gazed at the black scripted name, her eyes wide and excited. “Ohh, I don’t think I’ve seen this one yet.”

“Good.” There were only three suites available, and he was glad he’d chosen the right one. Glad he’d made her eyes light up like Times Square.

He opened the door and let her go in first.

She crossed the threshold and dropped her bag. “This is awesome.”

He smiled and moved her bag to the side so he wouldn’t trip over it. He left his, too, not wanting to disturb the moment. Right now he was enjoying her reaction too much.

He watched her walk around the room, touching the gold metallic drapes, the plush gold-and-black couch, and the frame of what looked to him to be an original Tamara de Lempicka, one of her portraits, with the geometric lines and golden Deco feel. “Someday when you’re a famous photographer you’ll be staying in suites like this all the time.”

“I doubt it.” She glanced over her shoulder at him with a wry grin. “I’m too cheap.”

He’d thought that about himself once. Before he got used to a better lifestyle and didn’t think about cost anymore. “Check out the television. State-of-the-art.”

Madison laughed as she walked over to join him. “Spoken like a true man.”

“What?”

“The most incredible artwork you could imagine, a view to die for and you notice the TV.”

“So?”

She looked up at him, and the smile on her lips faltered. She tried to disguise her sudden discomfort by feigning interest in the television, but moving back a step only enforced it.

“I don’t bite,” he said, hoping to relax her.

His teasing had the opposite effect. She blushed, gave him a mischievous look and then blew his socks off by saying, “Too bad.”

He hated that she’d taken him by surprise. A quick
comeback was needed to move things along. But he blew it when he couldn’t think of a single witty thing to say, and she turned away.

Damn.

“I’m gonna go get my camera ready,” she said, and went to grab her bag. “Which room is—?” She scanned the room, stared for a second at the only bedroom door and then narrowed her gaze on him. “Isn’t there another bedroom or adjoining room?”

He slowly shook his head, keeping his eyes on her. “No such thing in this hotel. Remember, the place is entirely geared toward couples, not families, and I doubt they encourage orgies.”

“Well, okay.” She shrugged but couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I don’t live far. I’ll go home tonight. No problem.” She started to return her bag to its spot near the door, but he intercepted her.

“We have two choices. I can sleep on the couch, which I don’t mind in the least. Or I can get a single room and you stay here.”

“That’s silly. I’ll just go home after we’re done.”

Their fingers brushed when he pried the handle from her hand. He took hold of her bag. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Which purpose is that?”

“Maximizing our time and meeting your deadline, of course.”

“Of course.” She eyed him for a moment before casting a longing look around the beautifully appointed parlor. “I could always sleep on the couch. I’m smaller. I’d be more comfortable.”

“I let you haul up your own bag. Don’t get carried away.”

“You let me, huh? I guess I owe you a thanks.” She studied the couch. “I think that’s made of Chinese silk. Boy, I’d hate to mess that baby up.”

“How? Do you drool in your sleep?”

“Only when I’m having a really good dream.”

He chuckled and shook his head. Never had he met a woman quite like her. “There is another alternative.”

Slowly she met his eyes. Obviously he’d said too much because she visibly swallowed. “Do I want to hear this?”

He refused to look away. “Only you can answer that.”

“I absolutely won’t be distracted.”

“No,” he agreed. “Work comes first.”

She moistened her lips, swallowed again. “Speaking of which, we’d better get started.”

He let the matter of sleeping arrangements drop. He’d sounded pushy. Not usually his style. But he had this deep-down gut feeling that after this weekend she’d slip away. Disappear. Go visit her sister in L.A., find a job and never come back.

The whole thing was ludicrous. All they had was a brief professional relationship. After tomorrow they probably wouldn’t even give each other another thought. She was ambitious and talented and going places. He had more decisions to make than his brain could handle.

But none of that precluded tonight. She’d given enough signals she was interested and willing. He’d give her the shots she wanted. It wouldn’t take long. Not when they both anticipated what was to come.

 

A
FTER TWO AND HALF
hours of shooting first at the pool and now the spa, Madison couldn’t think of any one particular shot she’d taken that would ace the cover. She liked the slightly rugged look of his unshaven jaw, and she was truly grateful he’d made that concession, and she’d even captured a few really good candids, but he was holding back.

Not overtly. She wasn’t sure if he even knew what he was doing. But he couldn’t lie to the camera, and they just weren’t clicking. And worse, she didn’t know how to get through to him. How to get him to relax. How to get him to trust her.

Even more frustrating was the growing tension between them. She’d sworn she wouldn’t allow herself to be distracted, but if she let her guard down for even a moment, her thoughts spiraled in a dangerous direction.

“Are you getting hungry?” Jack stretched just as she was about to snap one of those rare perfect shots.

“Damn it.”

“What?”

She glared at him. “What do you think I’m doing with this camera?”

“Is this a trick question?” He gave her one of his high-priced megawatt smiles.

She didn’t bite. Not even a little. She was too tired and quickly losing confidence. Never in her entire career had she needed to take so many rolls of film, and with so little yield. Thankfully a couple of shots from the garden had made the cut. But she was far from the finish line.

What really put icing on the cake was that the day couldn’t have been more ideal. The hotel was quiet.
Only one person showed up at the pool, swam a few laps and then disappeared. Other than an employee, they had yet to see anyone at the spa. They should have been making terrific headway. They should have wrapped up already.

She sighed and rubbed the tension tightening the back of her neck. This feeling of discouragement was new to her. She hated it. She hated feeling out of control. She totally hated the idea of not getting that cover.

Jack sobered, his eyes darkening with concern. “Seriously, I think we should take a break. Maybe get some dinner. It’s about that time.”

“Want to get serious? Then start paying attention to what we’re doing here.”

Confusion flashed across his face. Along with a touch of anger. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

“Yes, you have. Just like a good little robot.”

He frowned and looked as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He really didn’t get it.

“How many times have you looked at your watch in the past hour?”

His lips thinned. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“You’re just putting in time. You don’t care about—” She stopped herself. Her emotions were too close to the surface, and she was likely to say something she’d regret. As if she hadn’t already stuck her big foot in it already. She didn’t need to make him mad. “You’re right. Let’s take a break. Go get something to eat.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not hungry.” She forced a smile. “Go have din
ner. Take your time. We’ll work later. I wanted to get some nighttime shots, anyway.”

He stayed where he was and stared at her. “You’re angry. Tell me why.”

“I’m sorry for overreacting. I really am. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Right.”

“It’s true. You made it clear from the beginning that you didn’t want to do this. I thought I could make it work.” She took a couple of deep cleansing breaths, hoping it would calm her, but instead the brief time-out gave her temper time to spark.

“No, I take that back. You share the blame,” she said, not caring that his face darkened. “I could have made it work, except you won’t give an inch. I know you can’t understand how important this is to me. But it is. It’s huge. This is the biggest break I’ve ever got. I need this win.”

“‘Could have’ made it work?” He gave her a patronizing look that fanned the flames. “Funny, you didn’t strike me as a quitter.”

“You’re the one who quit. Before you even started. You accepted my reassurance that I’d keep the spread tasteful. You pretended to give me the benefit of the doubt, but it was only lip service. You didn’t come through.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Yes, I think you do. It’s what you want from me I’m not sure of.”

He winced. “I like you, Madison. It wasn’t and isn’t my intention to let you down. Maybe you simply want too much.”

“Maybe.” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and
turned away hoping he hadn’t seen how emotional she was becoming. “Go have dinner. I’ll be in the suite.” If she stayed, she would use the bedroom. The hell with him. “We’ll try again later.”

She kept going without a backward glance.

 

J
ACK SAT ON THE EDGE
of the hot tub and watched her go. He felt as if a tornado had descended and then left just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving a big mess behind. No rhyme, no reason. It just was.

She was off base. He’d cooperated. Wasn’t staying the night his suggestion? It wasn’t just about the sex, either. Yeah, he had designs on her, but he wanted her to meet her deadline. He hoped she got the pictures she wanted. He wasn’t crazy about being on the cover, but he hadn’t sabotaged her in any way.

At least not consciously.

He thought back over the past twenty-four hours and got a little uneasy. One of the things you learned early on when doing live TV was to school your face in a neutral expression. To not let your feelings show or get in the way of your reporting. It wasn’t so different from acting. You let loose only what you wanted the audience to see.

He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest.

Okay, so he hadn’t been the model subject. Maybe he’d held himself in check at times. But consulting his watch often was a habit. He did it all the time. At least he’d been up-front about not wanting to participate. She had to give him credit for that.

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