Chapter Thirteen
“Dayton? Are you ready to go?” Tyler’s voice echoes through the house, and I grab my coffee mug.
“Hold on.” I down the rest of the mug in one gulp and leave it on the counter. I’ll clean it up later. I grab my purse from the table and meet him in the hallway. “Ready.”
“Come on. I’m already late.”
“Hot date last night?”
“More like animalistic. She was a dream.” Tyler leads to me an Audi R8 and presses a button on the keys. “In you get.”
“This is your car?”
“Nah. I stopped by the dealership this morning and stole it.” He opens his door and stares at me. My lips twitch up on one corner, and I get in the passenger’s side.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It gets me laid.”
“I have no doubt.”
I sit almost stiffly. I’ve never been in a car so expensive or…pretty.
“She won’t blow up if you sit back or actually touch the seat, you know.” Tyler smirks. “I guess you haven’t seen Aaron’s baby.”
“I didn’t even know he had a car in his possession. He’s driven everywhere.”
He laughs. “That’s because my cousin is a particular bastard who won’t let anyone touch his Ferrari. I could count on one hand the amount of times he’s driven that.”
What? “He has a f*cking Ferrari?”
“A 458 Italia. Boyhood dream car.”
“Even I know what car that is.”
“His apartment block has an underground garage. There’s a private section for his apartment, and it’s under lock and key. Make him show you when you get back. Then, for the love of bloody God, please drag your finger across it.”
“Why?”
He sighs. “Because getting it dirty is my f*cking dream, and you’re the only person that could touch it and get away with it. He’d kick my ass.”
“He’d kick mine too, no doubt.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“How are you so sure?” I twist and look at him.
Tyler flashes a card to a security guard and drives into an underground parking lot. “I see how he looks at you. He never looked at Trouty that way.”
“Trouty?”
We pull up, and Tyler cuts the engine. “Yeah. Naomi. You know, those lips? It’s a trout pout.”
I think back to the last time I saw her. Anger builds in me again, but I somehow fight it down along with the sliver of fear tingeing the edges.
“I suppose you’re right. She does rock the fish face a little.”
Tyler winks and places his hand on my upper back, leading me into an elevator. “I’m pretty sure there’s an Anti-Trout group in this building. I’m even more certain Aaron is the president.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. “No, that would be his mom.”
Tyler laughs loudly. “Oh, Aunt Carly. Yes, she’d be the founder.” He sobers when he sees the receptionist looking at him pointedly. “Don’t laugh. Don’t speak. Don’t do f*cking anything remotely human while she’s around,” he whispers.
I frown but stay silent as he leads me to the desk.
“Mr. Stone. I trust you know where you’re going.”
“I do. Thank you, Darla. Is Jenna here?”
“She’s waiting for you.”
Tyler turns and takes me to another elevator without responding. I feel the receptionist’s eyes following both of us and burning into my back. I turn, and her eyes are filled with annoyance and hatred.
“You f*cked her, didn’t you?”
Another laugh leaves him. “How did you know that?”
“The sharp voice and eyes that could kill might have given it away.”
“Damn. She was a clingy bitch. I’m not into that shit.”
I raise my eyebrows at his back, following him down a long corridor. “What are you, a sex addict?”
He doesn’t answer, just pushes open a door and hits me with a shit-eating grin that answers my question. I don’t believe he and Aaron could be any more different if they tried.
“Sit over here on the sofa,” Tyler directs me. “This is a boudoir and lingerie shoot, so we’ll be using the bed and the window.” He points to the large window that overlooks London. I peek out as I walk past, noticing Big Ben standing tall across the river, and take my seat on the bright red sofa.
Tyler runs back and forth across the room, adjusting lights and setting up his camera. Other people run around as much as he does, and a girl with a clipboard offers me a coffee. I accept and sit back in the plush cushions, enjoying the anonymity. None of these people have any idea who I am.
That stops the second a tall, raven-haired girl walks into the room wrapped in a thick robe.
“Who is that?” she asks, pointing at me.
“Jenna, it’s lovely to see you again.” Tyler kisses her cheek.
“Keep your charm in your trousers, Tyler Stone. Who is the girl on the sofa?”
“That would be the boss’s girlfriend.”
Jenna looks at me, and I smile.
“Does that mean he’s finally divorced from Naomi?”
Tyler nods.
Jenna sighs. “Thank god for that. I couldn’t stand her. Coming into shoots and acting like she was in charge because she was hot in America for, like, six months. She thought she was Naomi Campbell or something.” She snorts.
“See?” Tyler turns to me. “She has her own little fan club.”
Jenna approaches me and holds out her hand. “Jenna Kelly.”
I stand and shake her hand. “Dayton Black.”
“You’re not here to direct my shoot, are you?”
“No.” I laugh. “I’m just watching. I won’t say a word.”
She nods and smiles with nude lips. “Perfect.” She turns to Tyler. “Tyler Stone, stop looking at my arse. You’re only entitled to do that through a camera, you lecherous git.”
Something tells me that Tyler Stone has a much, much bigger reputation than either he or Aaron has let on.
***
Modeling is a funny business, and it’s easy to see where the incessant bitchiness comes from. Unless you’re someone familiar with the jealous flicking of eyes and thinning of lips, you wouldn’t notice the way the girls tending to Jenna were looking at her.
I spent the majority of the shoot watching and wondering why they were looking at her that way—until I realized. She’s beautiful, she’s confident, and she’s not afraid to show it. It’s a lethal combination. A recipe for jealousy and hatred.
“Dayton?” Tyler calls through to me from the front room in a pained whine.
“What?” I reply, strolling into the room. “What’s up?”
He sits back on his heels and looks at me. “I have no f*cking idea what I’m choosing here.”
I look at the vast spread of photos in front of him. “Why aren’t you doing this on the computer? There’s what, one hundred photos here?”
“Hundred and fourteen.”
“I thought you guys only printed when you had them narrowed down.”
He sighs and leans back. He winces when his ass hits the floor. “These are the narrowed-down images.”
“Well, shit.”
“Mhmm. Be a love and get me a beer.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Please.”
“That’s better.” I walk into the kitchen and uncap a bottle for him. Damn, I might as well get myself a glass of wine. I know I’m going to be kneeling on that floor for f*ck knows how long.
I pour mine and stroll back into the front room. Tyler has his laptop open on the sofa now, music pouring softly from the speakers. I hand him the beer and sit next to him, adjusting my sweatpants as I do.
“Jenna is the best and worst kind of model to work with. It’s impossible to pick her final images because they’re so f*cking good.”
“And you have a crush on her.”
“I’m not denying I’d love to rip these blue panties off her. F*ck me.” He shoves a picture in my face. “Seen this, Day? She’s sexy as shit.”
I snatch the photo and throw it onto the floor. “Focus, you douche. Thinking about having sex with your model isn’t going to help you in this situation.”
Tyler shifts. “You’re right. Help me.”
“Fine.” I sift through the photos with him.
He’s right. Jenna is beautiful, although not in a classical way. Her nose is a little on the large side, her eyes may be too wide for her face, and her forehead is a little small, but combined with her porcelain skin, naturally pouty lips, and black hair, it works.
She also oozes sex and temptation. Sultry looks beneath her lashes, lips parted just the right amount, her back arched perfectly.
No wonder Tyler wants to f*ck her.
“How do you do this job? In front of girls like this, dressed like this, and stay sane?” My eyes find his brown ones.
He looks at me seriously. “I wank a lot.”
“Wank?”
“I spend an unhealthy amount of time in my room getting myself off.”
I stop and stare at him. Shit. Is he serious?
He is. He f*cking is.
“Way too much information, Ty.”
“You asked.” He shrugs.
“I’m sorry, how old are you again? Was it twenty-six or sixteen?”
“Twenty-six with the sexual temperament of a sixteen-year-old.”
I asked for that, really. I shake my head and filter through the last of the pictures, handing a small stack to him. He takes them and flicks through him.
“Thanks. You’re amazing at this. Ever thought of working in Stone?”
I push up onto the sofa, wine glass in hand, and sit back with a groan. “Not you, too.”
Tyler holds up a finger and packs the photos away. He puts his laptop on the floor between us, grabs his beer, and sits at the other end of the sofa. “Aaron being a pushy knob again?”
“If by ‘knob’ you mean ‘a*shole,’ then kind of. He wants me to model for them.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “What’s the problem? I saw your pictures. You have it, Dayton.”
I shake my head and tell him what I explained to Aaron last night. I won’t ride his coattails. I won’t be somebody just because I have the easy road in.
Tyler stares at me for a long moment. “Would you let me shoot you?”
“What?”
“Hear me out.” He holds up a hand. “And f*ck, don’t tell Aaron. You want to do it by yourself—let me shoot you. I’ll compile your portfolio and send it to some agencies in Seattle.” He shrugs like it’s so simple. And it is. If you’re not dating the CEO of Stone Advertising and Modeling.
“He’d kill both of us. I don’t know if I could.”
“Think about it, all right? You’re here for another week, so don’t dismiss it just yet. One of the upstairs rooms is a studio.”
I can’t help the way my lips tug to one side. “I don’t think I want to ask.”
“I’ll clean through before you use it.” He winks and takes a drink. “Will you think about it?”
Because it wouldn’t be awkward or anything. For some reason, though, I find myself nodding in agreement. I find myself promising that I will.
“Great. Now you can tell me what had you spacing out last night at dinner.”
I look away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“And why you freeze every time someone says Naomi’s name.”
I say nothing.
“I’m a photographer, Dayton. Body is my second language.”
“I don’t like her. Would you?” I turn back to him, a Mia-mask on my face. Unaffected. Not caring. “She’s Aaron’s ex-wife and, by all accounts, a total bitch. That’s all there is to it.”
“You’re a bloody awful liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
Tyler shrugs a shoulder and grabs the remote. “Suit yourself, love. Don’t forget I know her. She’s more than just a bitch on steroids. She’s a bitch on crack.”
He flicks the top of his laptop down with his foot and turns on the TV. Some English drama I don’t know blares out, and I stare blankly at the screen.
I can’t tell him. I could ignore him now, watch this stupid show where they drop half of their letters when they speak, and let the evening pass by until Aaron returns from a late meeting.
But I don’t want to. It’s barely been a week and already it’s eating me from the inside out. My conversation with Naomi is burning away at me. The guilt is going to coil tighter and tighter in my stomach until I’m sure it’ll unwind, taking everything else I have with it, and I won’t just admit the secret. I’m afraid it’ll go so far that the only way I’ll be able to get it out will be by screaming it until my throat is raw.
“She came to my house last week.” I rub my thumb across my top lip harshly, looking everywhere but at Tyler. “She knows…something about me not many people do. I don’t know how she does, but she does. She’s not happy with the divorce settlement, and she’s using that against me.”
“She’s blackmailing you?”
I nod slowly. “Aaron doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to find out either.” I bring my eyes to Tyler’s. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t know why I’m telling you, except that it’s killing me.”
He says nothing for a long moment. Then he jerks his head in agreement. “She wants money?”
“A lot of it.”
“How much?”
“Too much. That’s how much.”
He reaches over and rests his hand on my shoulder. “How much?”
I close my eyes. “Two and a half million.”
Tyler draws in a sharp breath and withdraws his hand. “What could she know that’s worth that much money?”
“Something that could destroy everything Brandon, and now Aaron, have ever worked for.”
“I don’t believe it’s that bad.”
I put my glass on the side and stand, turning my back to the man who looks so much like the one I love. The one I’m trying to protect.
“Dayton.”
“This is ridiculous. I’ve known you for two days. I have no idea why I just told you that. Forget it. I’m going to bed.”
Tyler grabs my arm before I can leave the room. “You told me because you need help, and I’m guessing I’m the closest thing you have.”
I don’t reply. I don’t know if he is or not. He’s just so easy to talk to and someone who makes you want to tell him everything.
“What could possibly be so bad it would destroy Stone?”
My mouth goes dry, along with my lips, and I make a vain attempt at wetting them with my tongue. My throat constricts around the sudden lump in it, and my heart pounds so hard that it’s threatening to break free of the restraints of my chest.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know everything,” Tyler says softly.
I clench my hands into fists. My nails dig into my sweaty palms, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “Promise you won’t think any less of me.”
“My cousin, my best friend, loves you. I thought the world of you before I knew you.”
I take those words and I hold on to them with everything. I can’t believe I’m about to do this—tell him who I am. What my job is.
Am. Were. Is. Was.
I don’t know the difference now.
My eyes sting with tears. “Naomi knows the truth about who I am.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I’m a call girl.”