Chapter 14

Christopher

Even though Jessi told me her son was nine months old, there was no way to be sure she was telling the truth. Her answers were vague at best, but the resemblance between me and that baby was undeniable. His eyes were exactly the color of mine and his hair color was the combination of mine and hers. His smile was broad like mine and his chin even had the same small little dimple mine did whenever he smiled.

But I had no proof other than that.

I had nothing other than how much I looked like Caleb.

“Come on, girls. Turns aren’t this hard,” I said.

“Maybe if you gave us a break, we could get it down.”

“And maybe if you ate before you came to work, you’d have the energy to withstand the requirements of the job. Do the turn right, then you can sit down,” I said.

Another job, another room full of snippy women. I had to work with them for an entire week before yet another show, and I had my hopes high that Jessi was working on this one as well. The designer was notorious for using plus-sized models in her shows, but not this one.

I was disappointed as fuck when I entered the room and didn’t see Jessi.

What it boiled down to was that I just missed working with her. I missed her grace and her fluidity. She had outshone everyone on that damn stage the night of the show. But that was like her, to walk into a room and command attention. She’d always been that way. Even back during her timid days when she was still trying to find herself. She was captivating. Her smile lit up a room and her curves filled out everything she wore very nicely. Her voice was filled with a notorious boom that ricocheted across a room even if she was whispering.

Everything about her was loud and proud, and I adored it.

It was what drew me to her in the first place.

“Ow! Shit!”

I ran up onto the stage and rushed for the model on the floor. She was holding her ankle in her tiny, delicate little hand. I could see just about every bone in her body, and as I picked her up off the floor my hands fell into the divots of her rib cage.

That was why she couldn’t get the choreography.

She was starving herself for this job.

“You’re going to take a break,” I said.

“Finally,” the woman said.

“Not finally. You’re going to take a break and I’m going to see you in the designer’s office. Does she know you’re struggling?”

I saw tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she stood to her feet.

“Please don’t tell her. I need this job badly. I haven’t worked in almost two months and this was a massive break for me.”

“This is simple choreography,” I said, “and you can’t get it because you aren’t strong enough. The last thing we need is you hurting yourself on this job. It puts us out a model, it hampers your career, and it puts a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. I know you guys are scrutinized for your weight. I get it. But you’re sick. You’re not healthy enough to do this show.”

“Please,” the woman said as tears ran down her cheeks. “I have nothing else.”

“You’re more than your body,” I said. “I’m sure you have talents. Get yourself better, and come back with confidence. There are many emerging designers that choose confident women over thin women.”

“I don’t see them anywhere,” she said, breathlessly.

“I worked with one just last week. If you don’t see them anywhere, then your first step is to work with another company. But I can’t let you go on like this. Especially now that I know how sick you are.”

“I’m not sick.”

“And if you believe that for now, that’s your choice. But I’ve made mine. Get your heels off, get yourself dressed, and meet me in the designer’s office,” I said.

I hated this part of my job, but it happened more than people let on. Models would fall into unhealthy patterns to keep their weight down, then they weren’t strong enough to do the runway shows. It was why I was so happy the plus-size world was emerging into the marketplace. It was why I loved the fact that designers were using bigger women to showcase their clothes.

Because I had to deal with less emotional fallout that way.

The conversation was hard and the woman was angry. And rightfully so. She left the building in tears, but there was nothing I could do. The designer was talking at me but my ears were only half-tuned to her voice. The rest of my mind was wandering back to Jessi.

Back to her healthy curves, her bright eyes and her gleaming smile.

I had no idea how I was going to get her to admit that Caleb was mine. I knew in my gut he was, but I didn’t want to push the subject right now. I had her back and I didn’t want to ruin it again. Even if I had to take it slowly and even if all we did was hook up for now. But she was more than that to me. She always had been. I was an idiot the first time around to think I could keep her in the shadows, and that she was simply a good lay I could count on, who happened to be my best friend’s sister.

She had obviously been struggling with telling me she had a kid in the first place. It wasn’t until I actually saw her holding Caleb that she was even willing to admit it. And if we hadn’t been in front of her family, I wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t have tried to pawn him off on someone else. It was something she was probably insecure about, especially being a model.

But her body. There was nothing about her body that boasted of her having a child.

Sure, her curves were a little bigger, her thighs more supple than before. But there were no stretch marks, loose skin or leaking from her nipples. There was nothing on her body that revealed she had a child, and I sighed as I closed my eyes. The designer was long gone. Probably off to find a replacement model when she found out I wasn’t listening to her.

Or maybe she thought I had been listening and was clueless to anything else.

I sat against the desk in the room and took deep breaths. My mind had wandered to the details of Jessi’s body, pulling me into the warmth of her presence. I felt my cock stiffening against my sweatpants as I cleared my throat. The last thing I needed was to go into a room with a bunch of women with my cock at half-mast.

I wanted to see her again.

I needed to see her again.

“Hello, Chris,” Jessi said.

“Hey there,” I said, into my cell phone. “What are you doing, beautiful?”

“Just getting out of a photo shoot. You?”

“Another one already? I guess the world doesn’t stop for Miss Jessi Park.”

“That it does not,” she said.

“I was wondering what you were up to this evening. Maybe we could get some dinner.”

“Can’t. I already have plans,” she said.

“Do you actually have plans or is that an excuse to not see me?”

“If I didn’t want to see you, I’d let you know. I promise.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second. What about tomorrow night, then?”

“Dinner?” she asked.

“Is there anything else you have on your mind?”

“No, but there’s usually something else on your mind.”

“I can hear your grin, sweet girl.”

Her giggle caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Such an angelic sound.

“I’ll call you tomorrow with the details.”

“Always in control,” Jessi said.

“Would you have it any other way?”

“Is there any other way?” she asked.

I caught a trace of sadness in her voice, but I couldn’t figure out where it would have been coming from. It stopped me in my tracks as I furrowed my brow and I paid attention to her breathing. It was erratic. Like she was trying to control her emotions for some reason.

“Jessi?” I asked.

“Let me know where and when to meet you and I’ll be there,” she said.

She hung up the phone abruptly and it left me with more questions than answers. What had riled her up so badly about the conversation? It was playful, like it had always been between the two of us. Had I said something to upset her? Maybe she didn’t really want to go out?

I wasn’t sure, but what I did know was that I was late for lunch with Justin.

Embracing my friend before we sat down was awkward at best. I was finding it harder and harder to be around him, especially with what was going on between me and his sister. I was looking my best friend in the face and cracking jokes while withholding the fact that I was fucking around with Jessi.

That didn’t sit well with me.

Just like it hadn’t two years ago.

Justin was going on and on about this redheaded chick of his. How awesome she was and the energy levels she had in bed. He kept going on and on about her like she was God’s greatest gift to the world, but I was only half listening. My mind kept going back to the conversation I had with Jessi. The sadness that poured through her voice in that one little question she’d asked.

Was Jessi okay?

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out to take a look. I figured it was work or the designer demanding I get back to the venue to help with the girls. But instead, I saw Jessi’s name scrolling across my screen.

She had sent me a message.

“Everything good, man?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, everything’s good. Just got a text,” I said.

“Does it happen to be from this mystery girl you still won’t tell me about?” he asked.

I looked up at him as I opened Jessi’s text on my phone. But all it had was a picture.

A picture of her in that gorgeous evening gown from the runway show.

Better take me somewhere appropriate.

I grinned down at the message before I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

“It was from her, wasn’t it?” Justin asked. “Why the hell won’t you tell me about her?”

“Because it’s still pretty casual. But it seems like things are heating up between you and that redheaded minx from the bar. How many times have you seen each other since that night?” I asked.

“Five,” he said with a smile.

“Oh shit, man. You’re sunk,” I said.

“In all the best ways.”

I wanted to tell him I got it. That I understood how he was feeling. But the last thing I wanted to do was open a conversation about how I was fucking his sister and oh, by the way? I thought her kid was mine because we fucked around two years ago, too.

Shit, things were getting complicated.

I really needed to talk to Jessi.