Our location scout has been having the hardest time finding a spot that’s on theme and not overdone. Where is it?” “It’s…” I scrambled to come up with an answer while silently cursing Christian for putting me on the spot like this. What place in D.C. makes sense for a menswear shoot? “You said it was an old warehouse somewhere,” Christian prompted. Clarity dawned in an instant. There was an old industrial building on the fringes of the city that I’ve shot at a few times. It was a bustling factory until the 1980s, when the owner moved his headquarters to Philadelphia. In the absence of new owners, the building fell into disrepair and became
overgrown with weeds and ivy. It was a trek to get there, but the contrast of green against old steel provided a striking backdrop for photoshoots, especially luxury ones. How does Christian know about that? “Right.” I released a small breath and smiled at Luisa. “It doesn’t have an actual address, but I’m happy to show you or a team member how to get there if that’s something you’re interested in.” She tapped her nails against the table in thought. “It’s very possible. Do you have sample photos?” I pulled up some of my old photos and showed them to Luisa, whose eyebrows popped up with approval. “Oh, those are gorgeous. Can you send them to me? I have to show them to our scout…” My heart skipped when Luisa gave me her cell number so I could text her the link, but when I looked up, the thrill evaporated at the sight of Raya and Adam whispering furiously to each other while casting side glances in my direction.
Anxiety buzzed beneath my skin like a swarm of bees.
Those whispers brought me back to my middle school days when everyone giggled and talked behind their hands when I walked into a room. I’d hit my growth spurt early, and at age thirteen, I’d been tall, skinny, and awkward enough to be an easy target for bullies. I’ve since grown into my own skin, but the anxiety had never gone away. “Why don’t you let us in on your joke?”
Christian’s casual request masked a dark undertone that wiped the smiles off Raya’s and Adam’s faces. “It must be a good one.” “We were talking about something personal.” Raya rolled her eyes, but her expression contained a hint of nerves. “I see. Next time, refrain from doing so at a public event. It’s disrespectful.” The content of Christian’s rebuke was mild, but he delivered it with such vicious contempt Raya’s face flushed crimson. Instead of defending his girlfriend, Adam stared down at his plate, his own face pale. The exchange had been so short and held in such low tones the rest of the table was oblivious. Even Luisa didn’t notice; she was too busy texting someone (probably her location scout). “Thank you,” I said quietly, wishing I was bold enough to call out Raya myself. “They were annoying me,” was Christian’s detached answer. Nevertheless, warmth settled in my stomach and stayed with me through the rest of dinner and the end-of-night goodbyes. By the time I exited the townhouse half an hour later, I felt marginally better about my ambassadorship chances, but it was far from a sure thing. I was still convinced Luisa favored Raya, no matter what Christian said. Speaking of whom… I slid a side glance at him as he fell into step with me. I was staying at a boutique hotel not far from Luisa’s place, but I doubted Christian was staying there as well. He probably had a place in the city; at the very least, he’d stay somewhere like The Carlyle or The Four Seasons, not an eight-room hotel with no designer amenities. “Are you following me?” I asked lightly as we turned the corner onto a side street. Christian’s presence dominated the sidewalk, soaking into the shadows and rendering the air around us invincible. So quiet and lethal even the darkness didn’t dare touch him. “Merely making sure you return to your hotel safe and sound,” he drawled.
“First the car ride the other day, now this. Do you always provide your tenants with such hands-on service?” A smoky gleam passed through those whiskey eyes and sent heat rushing to my cheeks, but Christian refrained from making the obvious joke. “No.” Short and simple, delivered with the self-assurance of someone who never had to explain himself. We walked in silence for another minute before he said, “To answer your earlier question, I know she likes you because I know Luisa. It sounds counterintuitive, but whenever she’s impressed with someone, she puts them on the back burner. She’s more interested in grilling those she’s not sure about.” I was already so used to his abrupt topic changes I didn’t skip a beat. “Maybe.” I’ll believe it when I
see it, a.k.a. get the deal. “How do you know her so well?” Luisa was twenty years older than Christian, but that didn’t mean anything. Older women slept with younger men every day. It would explain the way she lit up when she saw him. A tiny frown creased my forehead for a reason I couldn’t name. “I’m friends with her nephew. And no, I never slept with her.” A hint of laughter threaded through his voice. My cheeks blazed hotter, but thankfully, my voice came out cool and even. “Thank you for the information, but I’m not interested in your love life,” I said with a regal tilt of my chin. “Never said anything about love, Ms. Alonso.” “Fine, I’m not interested in your sex life.” “Hmm. That’s a shame.” The hint of laughter intensified. If he was trying to get a rise out of me, he wouldn’t succeed. “Only for you,” I said sweetly.
We stopped in front of my hotel. The light from the windows slashed across Christian’s face, casting half of it in shadow. Light and dark. Two halves of the same coin. “One more thing.” My breaths formed tiny white puffs in the air. “Why did you show up at dinner tonight?” It wasn’t to catch up with Luisa; he’d barely spoken to her all night. A shadow passed through his eyes before it sank beneath the cool amber surface. “I wanted to see someone.” The words soaked into the pocket of air separating us. I hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten until now. Leather, spice, and winter. That was all that existed before Christian stepped back and tipped his head toward the hotel entrance. A clear dismissal. I opened my mouth then closed it before I brushed past him. It wasn’t until I reached the revolving glass doors that my curiosity overpowered my hesitance. I turned, half expecting to see Christian already gone, but he remained at the base of the stairs. Dark hair, dark coat, and a face that was somehow even more devastating when partially cloaked in shadow. “Who did you want to see?” It was so cold my lungs burned, but still I waited for his answer. Something amused and dangerous surfaced in his eyes before he turned away. “Good night, Stella.” The words drifted into my ears after the night had already swallowed him whole. I exhaled a rough breath and shook off the pinpricks of electricity dotting my skin. However, thoughts of Christian, Luisa, and even Delamonte vanished when I entered my room, checked my phone, and disaster number four struck. I’d kept my cell in my purse the entire night because I didn’t want to be that person texting at the dinner table. Luisa had been doing it, but she was the host; she could do whatever she wanted. Now, I realized my attempt at appearing professional might have backfired, because my screen was littered with missed calls and texts from Meredith. The last one was from twenty minutes ago. Oh God. What was wrong?
How long had she been trying to reach me? A dozen possibilities raced through my head as I called her back, my heart in my throat and my palms clammy with sweat. Maybe the office was on fire, or I’d forgotten to send the Prada bag back to— “Stella. How nice to finally hear from you.” Her frosty greeting slithered down my spine like the cool skin of a reptile. “I’m so sorry. I put my phone on silent and just saw—” “I know where you were at. I saw you in the background of Raya’s Instagram Stories.” Despite her contempt for bloggers, Meredith followed their social media religiously. Something about competition and staying on top of trends. I seemed to be the only one who saw the irony in that. I swallowed hard. “Is something wrong? How can I help?”