Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kayla
"Are you paying attention, darling? We need you to focus!" Jay Wendt shouted out angrily.
"Sorry, my cell phone was ringing. I'll turn it off," I apologized. My purse was hanging on the back of my chair in the corner, blaring the ringtone I had set for Ethan. Irritated, I turned the device off completely.
He'd been calling and texting me for the past two weeks, but I'd been ignoring every one, letting all the calls go straight to voicemail and refusing to respond to any of his texts. I didn't give a shit if he was sorry, or if he missed me, or if he thought I was sexy and longed to make love to me. I only wanted to hear one thing from him: that he was ready to open up to me with the truth.
I didn't care if it was ugly or hard to hear; I needed to hear it. I needed real intimacy and trust between us if he wanted me to trust him in the bedroom. The BDSM games he'd taught me to play were the most incredibly gratifying things I'd ever experienced, and of course I yearned for more, but they were also based on trust, and if he wouldn't be honest with me about his life, then I had to close the door on that part of our relationship, as well.
"Are you ready, darling?" Jay sighed loudly to make his annoyance clear. "I was told you were a real professional, or was that spread for Speed Magazine just because you were fucking the owner?"
"No, I'm a professional. I can do this job. I just forgot to turn off my phone. Let's get to work." I stated with my head held high, exuding a confidence I didn't really feel. The trick worked and the director didn't give me any more flack.
"All right — music on, wind, lights, let's do this."
It didn't take me long to get into the zone, positioning myself on the bikes they brought out for me to advertise, smiling into camera's while the lights blinded me, letting my hair blow back in the breeze of the fans. By the time the photoshoot was over, I could tell the director was more that satisfied.
"Great work. We got a lot of terrific shots I know we can work with. This one looks like our billboard shot."
He showed me the photo of me posing on R.E.B.'s newest motorcycle design, leaning forward on the handlebars with my cleavage prominently displayed, looking sexy and happy. It reminded me of how I'd felt when I went riding with Ethan, and I had to look away.
I knew this was a total betrayal of me to pose for his competitor without even warning him I was doing it, but what choice did I have? This was my career, and I had been planning to tell him all about it the night we ended up breaking up. I no loyalty to Ethan Colson; he'd hired me for a one-time gig and he wasn't my boyfriend anymore. He wasn't anything to me anymore, so why did I keep thinking of him?
"Want to get a drink to celebrate? I know a place just down the street with the best live band." Jay was waiting for me when I came out of the dressing room, freshly washed and changed back into my regular clothes.
"No, thanks. I'm too tired to go drinking. I just want to put on my pajamas, eat some cold pizza, and go to bed," I said, trying not to hurt his feelings.
"I get it. Forget cold pizza, though. It's got to be hot with the cheese melting off the slice. That's the best. Have you ever eaten at Gino's? He makes his own Italian sausage, and it is heaven in your mouth."
"It sounds delicious, but you forgot the most important of my plan: eating it in my pajamas."
"I didn't forget. I've got a tee-shirt at my place you can sleep in if you want."
His intentions were clear, but I'd already made the mistake of going to bed with a man I had worked for in photoshoot, and I wasn't about to do it again.
"I'm sorry, but I really have to go home," I started to walk out the door, but he blocked my exit.
"I'll drive you."
"No, thanks."
"I insist." He was blocking the door fully and there was no way I could get past him. My heart was pounding in my chest as I fumbled in purse for my pepper spray. Shit, I hadn't brought it.
"I have a boyfriend," I lied, hoping he couldn't hear the fear in my voice as I struggled to keep my legs from trembling.
"Yeah, I know. The last guy you shot photos for: Ethan Colson. I hear you two spent the whole weekend after the launch party holed up in the hotel. Come on, darling; give me a little a taste. The job I've given you is even bigger than that dumb magazine cover. It's the least you can do."
He grabbed my arm, but I wrenched myself free and started fumbling in my purse. My hand closed over an object in my purse and I yanked it out, hoping it was something I could use for a weapon. My heart sank to discover is was only my cell phone.
"I don't trade favors for jobs," I said, struggling to keep the tremor out of my voice as he closed in on me and put his hands on me, groping me.
I knew I didn't have the strength to fight him off, and the only weapon I had was the cell phone in my hand. Then inspiration struck. I pressed last call button, connecting me to whoever had called me last and thrust the phone in his face so he could see I was on the line with someone. I didn't care who it was — it could be a bill collector or a kid selling cruise packages — I just needed Jay to think it was someone important.
Jay put his face close to mine as his hand slid up my shirt, grabbing my left breast. With his foul breath in my face, he said, "We can do it the easy way at my place, or the hard way here. Either way, you're taking my dick. The choice is yours."
"Actually, the choice is yours," I said, thrusting the palm of my hand upward in an effort to punch him in the nose, and then shoving my phone in front of his eyes so he could see I was on a call. "My boyfriend, Ethan, has been recording this entire conversation. He knows I'm here at the R.E.B. Corporate Studio on Ninth Street, and that I'm here alone with you."
"So what? He ain't here to save you, and by the time he gets here, I'll be done."
"No, but he's still recording every word, and you can't reach him before he gives it to the media. Do you want tomorrow’s headlines to be that you paid me double because the shoot went so well? Or should I have Ethan release this recording to the media, letting all the world know that Jay Wendt, director of marketing for R.E.B., was trying to pressure a model into giving him sexual favors and then threatening to rape her if she didn't cooperate? I get press exposure either way, so I'm good with whatever choice you make."
"You fucking bitch," he reached for the phone, but I was light and quick and dodged him easily.
Holding the phone up to my ear, I continued the bluff and said, "Go ahead, Ethan. Sell the recording to the news."
"No, stop. I believe this was all just a misunderstanding. I was kidding before. It was a joke in poor taste, and I apologize. I'm tired, too. I'm just going home. I'll have a cab take you home. You can expect to find a bonus check waiting for you at my office first thing Monday morning."
"That's very generous of you, but I don't want anything I haven't earned with hard work. Keep your bonus." I smiled. He held open the door for me, and I walked through it.
To my surprise, Ethan pulled up in front of me just a few moments later on his bike.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, looking hard at Jay.
"Yeah, everything is fine," I said, locking gazes with Jay, who quickly cast his eyes to the ground.
"The shoot went great; better than expected. I'll tell everyone you're a truly professional model," Jay mumbled. "Now excuse me, I have to go."
He got in his car and drove away at top speeds, spitting gravel as he went.
"Are you okay?" Ethan looked at me, and I nodded.
"I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. I'll take a cab home."
"Get on; I'll take you."
"No thanks." I started to walk away from him, but Ethan spun around on the bike, cutting off my retreat.
With pleading eyes, he said, "I've really missed you. Please, have dinner with me tonight. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
"No more secrets?" My heart was leaping, but I put on an air of suspicion.
"You can ask me anything and I'll tell you the whole truth," he vowed, pleading with his eyes. "The lawsuit, my time in college, the years I was addicted to speed, how I developed my company. Nothing is off limits."
"Just dinner and talking; nothing more," I stipulated, even though my body was already aroused just being near him.
"Only if you want more."
I thought for a moment, enjoying the way my hesitation was making him squirm. Then, without saying a word, I smiled at him at climbed onto the back of his bike. It felt good to feel my arms wrapped around his strong chest with the wind blowing through my hair as we raced through the city streets. This was where I belonged. This was where I was meant to be.
Best of all, it felt good knowing that with just one call he was there for me in an instant, willing to do anything I asked just to be mine. We were riding into a new and more meaningful future together, and in that moment, my life was perfect. Too bad perfection doesn't last.