Chapter 13
Kellan
“Is that all you’re eating?”
I put down my Bloody Mary, reaching for the celery stick and taking an exaggerated bite. “Happy now?” I asked, around a munching mouthful. Carla sighed, taking another bite out of her Eggs Benedict. “I keep forgetting I’m dating a male model.”
I wore a mock look of shock. Dramatically framing my face with my hands, I asked, “How could you with an adorable mug like this?”
She laughed and reached for her mimosa. “You know what I mean.”
I winked and squeezed her hand above the weathered table. I sighed with contentment, a salty ocean breeze caressed my face as we sat on the front porch of Empanadas—Carla’s favorite local bistro.
Beautiful people streamed by just outside a picket fence—out for a Sunday stroll on Ocean Beach Drive. Looking back at Carla, I caught her with the fork halfway to her mouth. She slid the appetizing spear of asparagus drizzled with hollandaise between her lips and put down her fork, pushing her empty brunch plate away. “Now you know why I had a strict policy against dating models. You all make me so self-conscious about eating like a normal person.”
I chuckled. “Trust me, Carla, if I didn’t have a swimsuit shoot in less than an hour I’d be drinking hollandaise sauce by the gallon. But it’s kind of hard to hide an extra inch around your waistline in one of those European bathing suits.”
Just the thought of it made me consider taking another sip of my tempting Bloody Mary. I took it anyway. Why not? I figured. Even if I had a little bloat from the tomato juice, they could always airbrush it out before the next issue of South Beach Swimwear magazine hit the stands next month.
“It’s your fault I have to starve myself this morning anyway,” I reminded her, finishing the last of my celery breakfast. “If you hadn’t booked me for a Sunday shoot, we could still be in bed right now.” She blushed appropriately, considering what we’d been doing in that bed all weekend long.
She pretended to be offended. “Hey, you’ll thank me for booking the shoot when you see your fat bonus for working on a Sunday. And besides, I’m not sure my body could’ve stood another hour in bed with you.”
I found myself pleased with the compliment. I’d never considered myself a particularly skilled or considerate lover before. With the girls I’d dated in the past, I’d never needed to be. But something about Carla, be it her withering beauty, her maturity, or her femininity, brought out a tenderness and playfulness in me that never failed to please her. “What can I say, you inspire me?”
She chuckled, blushing herself. “I could do with a little less inspiration, and a little more recuperation.” We were still laughing when a striking Latin beauty approached on the other side of the fence. She had perfect bronze skin and long black hair, the kind no bottled dye could reproduce. It framed a ferocious looking face, carefully chiseled yet appealingly soft, dominated by two dark brown eyes.
She wore a slinky brown sundress, no bra, and a beaded belt that hung below her waist. The breezy fabric clung to full breasts, while the belt accentuated sexily generous hips—the kind that would make a belly dancer envious and a stripper blush. Her confident stride told me she knew exactly what to do with them—and probably did on a nightly basis.
She had a vaguely predatory look, which I immediately recognized from my own reflection viewed in dozens of mirrors every day. She paused at our table, her brown eyes growing wide with recognition.
“Carla?” she said with little hint of an accent.
Carla, who’d been considering the dessert menu, looked up, clearly recognized her and blanched. “Selena?” she said cautiously, the way one might say “yeast infection,” “speeding ticket” or some other odorous item she wasn’t particularly fond of. “How… How have you been?”
The woman known as Selena frowned dramatically, leaning her curvy hip on the weathered fence. “Girl, I haven’t slept a wink since the last time we were both here at Empanadas.”
Carla, showing the slightest hint of passive aggressiveness, turned toward me. Nodding at me with an exaggerated leer, she turned back to Selena. “Girl, neither have I.”
I snorted with laughter while Selena, who looked to be no stranger to dirty jokes, seemed to slightly fume before a carefully layered smile crossed her face. “Do tell,” she purred, saucily opening the gate beside her and sliding into an empty chair at our table—not only uninvited—but entirely unwelcome.
I scoffed at the disrespect. I only had a little while longer before my shoot, and wanted to spend it flirting with Carla, and possibly even doing unspeakable things beneath the patio table for two. Now it had become unnecessarily crowded, and my tolerance for girl talk—never high to begin with—ebbed even lower.
Before Carla could respond, Selena offered me her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.” I took the hand and shook it gently, but not too gently, her grip was as strong as mine—if not stronger.
“Kellan,” I said, sliding my hand away from her vice-like grip.
“Let me guess, male model.” Before either of us could respond, she glanced at the half-empty Bloody Mary in front of me. “Skipping breakfast for a Sunday shoot?” Selena pressed.
Carla and I shared an impressed glance across the table. Carla, wearing an expression I didn’t quite recognize, nodded at our unwelcome guest. “Didn’t I tell you, Kellan?” she said for the interloper’s benefit. “Selena here was my former assistant.”
I nearly cackled with laughter, impressed by the sheer size of Selena’s giant brass balls. Biting my tongue only slightly, I smirked instead. “I have to hand it to you, Selena. I’ve never seen such a secure firewall in all my years working with computers. Fortunately, you forgot to clear your browser history, or we might never have accessed Carla’s sensitive files.”
Where a less brassy woman might have fled the table in shame, Selena merely fanned her face, manicured nails exquisite, before turning to Carla and ignoring me completely. “I was so sorry about that,” she said insincerely. “When I heard you almost didn’t make the sportswear show in time, you could imagine my surprise.”
Carla shot the exotic intruder a withering glance. “Are you sure you don’t mean delight?” she spat with uncharacteristic venom. “I would imagine you and your new cohorts at Florida Faces would’ve been more than happy to swoop in on that account like you have most of my others already.”
I literally sat back in my seat, ignoring the polite catfight as I processed the information that not only had Selena left Carla in the lurch, but had done so to jump ship to her biggest competitor.
What’s more, I couldn’t help but suspect that Selena’s sudden appearance at our brunch table that Sunday had at least something to do with the barrage of messages the CEO of her new modeling agency had been sending me nonstop lately.
If not—it qualified as the world’s biggest coincidence.
Either way, I no longer had the time to suss out the compelling mystery for myself. “I hate to meet and run,” I joked, standing abruptly. “But you’re right, Selena, I’ve got a shoot on the beach today and I don’t want to be late.”
Selena studied me hungrily, our eyes meeting only briefly but sharing an immediate spark I instantly recognized—and could feel all the way to my crotch. I ignored it, and leaned down to kiss Carla on the cheek. Having none of my sudden chasteness, she turned just in time to meet my lips and teased me with a smothering kiss. Chuckling, I reached for my messenger bag and told her, “I’ll be home in a few hours, Lover, make sure you’re not still here catching up by then?”
Carla hardly regarded her table mate as she replied, “I doubt Selena and I have that much catching up to do.” Her tone was unmistakable, making me shiver, despite the noonday sun. Seated next to her, however, Selena hardly noticed. Or, if she noticed, chose not to respond.
Instead, she turned her back on me, and leaned closer to Carla. I felt bad ditching her like that, but in this case, she only had herself to blame. After all, she was the one who’d booked the Sunday shoot and I could hardly go AWOL now. Not with my career suddenly back on track, and all thanks to Carla.
Still feeling Selena’s leer deep in my loins, I smirked. If the saucy young interloper thought she had any chance of coming between Carla and me, she had another think coming.