Taking Flight (A Devereux Novel) (28 page)

“
And
you stayed there the whole night?”

“The entire time. We barely slept, it
was incredible.”

Lacy shook her head, eyes wide. “Damn
girl, I can’t believe you found yourself such an incredible sugar daddy.”

“Lacy!” I retorted. “He is not my sugar
daddy. Stephen is a great guy and a gentleman, and we had fantastic sex. And he
happens to be rich, but that’s not why I’m spending time with him.”

“Sure it’s not,” she winked at me. “But
it’s a nice coincidence.”

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.
I’d hardly had any sleep at all, but I was running on such an emotional high
from the sleepless night at Stephen’s apartment I felt I could conquer the
world. The
head shots
had turned out great, and the
lingerie
photoshoot
was the best set of pictures ever
taken of me. I couldn’t believe how sexy I looked—it almost felt like
they were of another person.

Doubt nagged at the corner of my mind.
Was I only spending time with Stephen because of the things I could get from
him? Was it his money and his network I valued, or the connection I thought we
shared?

“It’s not like I’ll quit my job and
stop hunting for modeling work,” I said. “Besides, we haven’t even had an
official date. He’s walked me home from work one time, and then we had the
photoshoot
.”

Lacy rolled her eyes. “Some of us
haven’t gotten laid in months, Liberty. You can’t say it’s not a date if you
went to his place and boned all night.”

“Can’t I? Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s
taking me out tomorrow, so it looks like he isn’t just using me for sex.” The
worry nagged me until he’d asked—once I’d slept with him would he abandon
me? He didn’t seem like that type of guy, but some men had so much practice
pretending to care it was impossible to tell if it was all a facade.

“Ooh, where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know yet, he’ll come and meet
me at my building. Other than that it’s a surprise.”

“Surprise date?
With
a billionaire?
I bet he’ll fly you to Paris just for dinner. Do you
think he has a private jet?” Lacy stared into the distance, lost in a fantasy
about a man she hadn’t even met yet.

I laughed. “Jesus, Lacy, it’s not about
the money, okay? I mean, his place is huge and so nice, but I feel he’s not
flashy with his money. He acted a little weird when I asked him about it, said
he only just got it.”

“Inheritance, maybe?” Lacy asked. “If
he was self-made you’d think there would be more about him on Google.” I’d told
her about the lack of search results for Stephen.

“I guess so. I didn’t come out and ask
but it sounds like his parents aren’t around any more. Something’s weird
though—it sounds like he had no idea the money was coming, so he couldn’t
have grown up rich.”

Silence reigned as we turned our
attention toward lunch and mulled it over.

What would happen if Stephen and I
turned into an item? It would be so hard to keep my focus on making a name for
myself if I didn’t need to.

Modeling wasn’t a long-term career. If
I found myself in a relationship for a few years and then we broke up, I would
be in an even worse position than I was now. Skipping college may have been a
mistake, but I couldn’t picture myself doing anything that required advanced
education.

There wouldn’t be much out there for me
except for waitressing. And it would be impossible to make a name for myself
and leave an impact on the world the way I wanted to with modeling.

The introspection had solidified my
intentions. No matter what happened between Stephen and I, my career would come
first.

“I won’t turn into a kept woman.”

Lacy looked up from her salad and
stared at me. “Huh?”

It took a moment to realize I had said
it out loud. “I’m just saying, there’s no way I’ll ever let myself become
dependent on another person, whether it’s Stephen or someone else. I never want
to live off someone’s generosity or goodwill.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lacy said.
“That’s my dream. Can you imagine how amazing it would be to be a trophy wife
to a billionaire? I’m so jealous of your opportunity, girl. You could literally
do nothing but work out and tan in exotic locations most of the year if you
play your cards right.”

The thought had a certain appeal, but
with my newfound insight it made me wary more than it made me wet.

“I’m not saying that wouldn’t be great,
Lace, but it seems like a waste of life, you know? We have one shot at it, and
I want to make it count.”

Lacy wasn’t a girl into philosophical
talk about the meaning of life, so the conversation drifted to other less heavy
topics while we finished lunch. There wasn’t anyone in my life
who
I could have those sorts of talks with.

Maybe
Stephen if we keep seeing each other.

If I planned to become a top supermodel
and make my mark on the world, I’d have to work my ass off to get there. And
that meant taking advantage of every opportunity, even the ones I’d rather turn
down because of how they came about.

When I got home I pulled a business
card out of the drawer I’d thrown it into. “Paul Goldsmith,” I read. “Hedge
Fund manager at GLP Capital.”

Luckily I hadn’t run into Paul at
Dorgo’s
since the day he’d given me the business card, and
the thought of voluntarily hearing his voice filled me with dread.

Come on Liberty
,
toughen up
. You need to take advantage of every
opportunity you can.

The line rang three times before it
picked up.

“Goldsmith. Who is this?”

“Hi. This is Liberty, the waitress from
Dorgo’s
. You said to call you about setting up a
photoshoot
.”

“Ah, Liberty.” His voice teased my name
like he owned it. Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck at the sound and I
fought off a shiver. “Yes, I’ve got a few contacts who would be more than
willing to make use of your looks.”

The words and the way he said them felt
slimy, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. “How do you want to do this? Do
you have a number I can reach them at? Is there an office I can drop in to?”

“Don’t worry about all that, I’ll make
sure everything’s set up,” Paul said. “I’ll talk with my friends and then I’ll
get someone to call you back at this number with the details for the shoot.
They’ll make you a star.”

“Can you at least tell me which
designer and photographer I’ll be working with?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “I won’t
know who it will be until I make a few calls. Don’t worry about a thing, it’ll
be taken care of.”

The line went dead.

“Hello?” I stared at the phone.
“Seriously?”

It was such a pain dealing with
entitled assholes. Their time was always more valuable than everyone else’s,
and they made sure everyone knew it in the most aggravating way possible.

Well,
I guess there’s nothing more I can do with that avenue.
It didn’t sound
like Paul had anything lined up like he claimed.

I had to hope Stephen’s friend Denise
liked the shoot we did with her collection and wanted more from me. With that
shoot and the new
head shots
in my portfolio, it was
time to make the rounds of the agencies again, trying to find more work or, if
I was lucky, get a contract.

“
I’m
glad you agreed to come out with me today,” Stephen said.

I looked at him and caught his smile.
My own spread in response.
“I’m glad you asked me. I feel
like we’ve been doing things all jumbled out of order.”

“So it’s not just me then?” He laughed
and grabbed my hand to give it a squeeze. “I’d apologize for it but I can’t be
too upset—I’ve enjoyed myself with you far too much for that.”

He kept my hand, so I laced my fingers
through his.

Slick
move.

“I’ve had a great time, too. Tuesday
night was mind-blowing, I wouldn’t mind having a repeat performance of that!”

“I’ll let Denise know that you’ll
enthusiastically model the next lingerie collection she puts out. She loved the
photos, you know. Said the passion you brought to life embodies her vision.”

“With you on the other side of the
lens, how could I not?”

We strolled along the street, traffic
bustling and the midafternoon summer sun beating down. Stephen still hadn’t let
on to where he was taking me, but I had a suspicion the further down the street
we went.

“Are we going to Central Park?”

He looked at me and grinned. “Maybe.
I wanted to check it out
,
I haven’t been
before
. Have you spent much time there?”

“No. It’s something you know is there
and you should see, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Just seems too touristy,
you know?”

“If touristy isn’t your thing, then
you’ll hate this,” he said, but he didn’t seem worried.

We got to 59
^th
Street, and
the buildings dropped away as the vast green space opened in front of us. “It
is beautiful,” I admitted. I couldn’t imagine what Manhattan would be like
without the park in the middle.

There was a row of horse-drawn
carriages waiting for customers and I made to walk past until Stephen tugged on
my hand and pulled me back. He shook the hand of the driver standing next to
the first conveyance and the men exchanged low words I missed under the sound
of a horse neighing.

“Your chariot awaits, milady.” Stephen
looked at me with a sparkle in his eye.

“A carriage ride? Really?” I pretended
to be unimpressed, but excitement simmered underneath. My family never had
horses of our own, but
neighbors
in our small country
town did and I loved them.

“Just for a little while. And I believe
this is for you.” Stephen played around with his sleeves and then pulled his
hands apart, a rose appearing twined in the fingers of his right hand. He held
it out.

“You are ridiculous,” I said, laughing.
“This is fantastic.”

He slid his arms to my lower back and
pulled me close for a kiss. A light, easy kiss that was the perfect level of
respectability for such a public place.

It didn’t stay that way for long. The
taste of his lips reminded me of the way he had ravished me in his apartment,
and we sunk deeper into a passionate embrace. I lost sense of where I was,
barely treading water through the masterful way his hands and mouth played me.

Stephen broke the kiss. “Shall we?”

I struggled to pull myself together as
he helped me up into the carriage and climbed after me. Once the driver was
certain we were safely inside, he started the horses into motion.

The carriage moved at a sedate pace,
the steady clop of the horses’ hooves acting as a noise screen that kept our
conversation private from the driver and the pedestrians we passed along the
way.

“This is nice,” I said, placing my hand
on his. He swung his arm around my shoulder, and I let myself be drawn close
against him as we watched the trees and water roll past.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s very calming.”

“Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“Where do you see yourself five years
from now?”

It felt cheesy to ask a standard
interview question on a date, but I felt as though the answer would give me
guidance on my own feelings.

“Five years? That’s a long time,” he
said. He grew quiet.

I liked that he didn’t answer
immediately—it meant he was giving it genuine thought instead of saying
the first thing that came to mind. As he thought, I pondered the question
myself.

“I want to be doing something
meaningful. Not just meaningful, but something only I can do. When I decided
not to become a surgeon, it was because I didn’t feel like it was my life’s
work. It’s vital to have someone in that position doing that job, but it
doesn’t have to be me. Any person properly trained could do the same things.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. I
understand the feeling. There are things I want to accomplish in this life, and
I want to be unique. The thought of doing the same things everyone else does is
too constricting.” I let my hand wrap around his. “What about a relationship?
Where do you want to be five years from now?”

He looked down at me, his eyes staring
into my own. “That’s a loaded question for the third time we’ve seen each
other, isn’t it?”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to answer,
it would just help me know what to expect.”

“Again, five years is a long time. By
then, I would hope I’ve found a partner, someone I feel on equal footing with
and who shares the same values and goals as I do. I was single for most of
medical school because the course load was so demanding, so I’ve been ready for
something more serious for a long time now.”

He leaned down and lightly brushed his lips
against mine. His words had reassured me he wouldn’t use me and throw me away
when he bored of me. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t all a front, a lie he told to
keep me on the hook, but I had to take him at face value for the time being.

“What about you?” he asked. “Do you
know where you’ll be in five years?”

“I know it’s ambitious, but I want to
be at the pinnacle of the modeling world. I want the fame, the fortune, and the
ability to change the world. There are so many things going on out there that
aren’t right, and the people with the ability to do something about it aren’t
doing enough. It’s frustrating to watch, and I want to make a difference.”

It felt like I’d been making the same
impassioned speech for years. When I told friends or family I might as well
have been speaking to a blank wall. They would nod, barely listening. Stephen,
though, took my hands into his own and looked at me with intense eyes.

“You can do it, Liberty. I’ve only
known you for less than a week, but I already know you’re different from any
other women I’ve met in this city. There’s a realness to you that’s
unique—too many people are shallow and skin-deep, with nothing worthwhile
under the surface. That’s why I like spending time with you.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said
about me for a long time,” I said. I put my hand on the back of Stephen’s neck
and pulled him to me, kissing him softly, tenderly as I strove to show him my
appreciation.

Flashes of green were all I saw of the
park from that point
on
as Stephen and I grew more and
more wrapped up in each other. It was hard to remember how public we were as I
fought to restrain myself from taking things further in the carriage. I wanted
to feel all of him again—he was a drug I couldn’t resist. One taste of
him and I’d been hooked.

“Do you want to come back to my place?”
he asked during a break for breath.

“You’d have a tough time trying to keep
me away.”