Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  “My feelings for you weren’t planned.”

  “Tell me, Reese. What do you feel for me?”

  “Home. You feel like home to me.”

  A tear falls down her cheek, but I kiss it away before it can fall any farther. “You taste like home,” I whisper against the side of her mouth. She turns and our lips meet again. Her fingers weave into my hair as my hands slide around her waist. I take the final step and spin her around, walking her backward until we reach my door. With her back against the wall, I unlock my door, our lips part, and I step inside. We stand with the threshold dividing us. “Don’t you see, Reese, we were always good together.”

  “Until the end, Danny. Then we were bad. So bad. You were bad for me.”

  Her words hit like a shot to the chest and I jerk in reaction. Blue eyes on my brown as she waits for the comeback she expects, the comeback she wants. But I can’t give her anything, except my hand. I’ll tourniquet my emotional wounds when I’m alone. With all of my strength, my heart on the line, I hold my hand out for her and wait to see if she accepts it.

  Her body shudders as traitorous emotions expose her true feelings, and tears fall steadily. She can’t fight this anymore than I can despite the valiant effort. “This won’t give us closure, Danny.”

  “This is not our end. This is a new beginning.”

  Pulling her slowly to me by her delicate hands, her head is against my chest. Standing behind a locked door, I wrap my arms around her, rubbing her back to ease the heartache and struggle she’s going through, the same struggle I’m battling. Our feet move together, both of us content to dance to a song that’s never heard, but played in our hearts for years. At one time, she was the one I came home to and she’s the song my soul continues to sing. It’s the song of our love. It’s… us. In her arms, I’m home again.

  The simplest of acts—a kiss to my chest, a kiss to the top of her head—and we both know. We both feel it. I so desperately want to see her blue eyes shining, to pick up where we left off ten years before. Since that’s not rational, I turn her chin toward me. When her beautiful eyes meet mine, I see the girl I fell in love with now a woman with that same passion flickering inside. “You could destroy me, Reese Carmichael.”

  Her smile is soft, empathetic. “I don’t want to destroy you.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “A second chance to right my mistakes.”

  “I’ll give you whatever you want,” I whisper, and lean down to kiss the side of her mouth. “Just tell me what that is.”

  “I want you.”

  “You’ve had me all along.”

  She smiles, leaning her forehead on me. I rub her back and ask, “What’s so funny?”

  “I screwed up.”

  “I’ll forgive you if you tell me why.”

  “Not back then…” She looks up. “Actually, yes, I screwed up back then, but I also screwed up thinking I could see you and not feel anything.”

  Brushing the back of my hand over her cheek, I say, “There’s too much history between us to ignore.”

  “I was fooling myself.”

  “Are you in there, Danny?” Claudia’s voice penetrates the door and we both turn in that direction.

  I hold a finger over my lips. “Shhh.”

  Reese—doe-eyed, just-kissed pink lips—all aimed at me. I kiss her instead of stopping like we should, picking up exactly where we left off. A little moan from her coats my throat as I cup her face.

  Claudia is persistent. “Danny? Open up, it’s just me.”

  Reese pulls back this time and teases me as she whispers, “Yeah, Danny, it’s just her.”

  I shoot her a look, and whisper, “I see things haven’t changed as much as I thought.”

  “I wasn’t any good at this back then. I’m not any better now.”

  “Good at what?”

  Closing her eyes quickly, she shakes her head. She’s even quieter this time. “I’ve never been good watching you with other women, even for your work, especially with your work.”

  “You don’t have to be jealous of Claudia.” As her admission runs through my head I ask, “You were jealous back then?”

  Annoyance flashes in her eyes, but I’m not sure if she’s irritated with herself or me. “I hated that I was, but I was. You know that.”

  “You didn’t have to be. I promise you. You don’t have to be now either,” I say quietly, taking her hand. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  When her head tilts away, I hate that I can’t see her full face, her eyes, her expressive eyes. The pink lips of her mouth are in a line and all I want is to see her smile again. “That’s just it. We can’t.” Those communicative eyes plead to mine. “We’re not allowed to date. Not only does it go against your contract, but your company policy. As for me, I can’t give my bosses any ammo to fire me. I need my job. I have responsibilities.”

  Models don’t get much respect. I’m used to that. But why does it sting when I hear that from Reese? Narrowing my eyes, I sit on the bed as we distance ourselves emotionally and physically, something our practice has led us to master. “Ouch! I have bills to pay. I have my own set of responsibilities.”

  She crosses her arms across her chest as she leans against the door. “I know you do. I’m not cutting you down by telling you about my situation. It’s either win or lose for me. So, although I know you have your own set of responsibilities, you can afford to pick and choose your jobs. I can’t just fly off because I have a whim when I wake up on a Thursday and need a vacation. I don’t have that luxury.”

  I could argue, but I can tell it’s pointless right now. The door might be closed, but it’s obvious that mentally she’s already got one foot out. So I sit, listening and watching her defend herself, her actions, her digs at me.

  “You’re right. I have choices that most don’t. I’ve worked hard to create that opportunity in an industry where it’s possible.” I walk toward her. Reaching around, I unlock the bolt, then take the knob in hand. “I may not work a nine-to-five. I may not have to take a job or work for a few months if I don’t want to. But nothing I do is on a whim or done carelessly. I’ve been degraded in ways you’ll never believe, so when it comes to my money and how my face or my body sells a product, I earn every penny I make.” I open the door, bumping it into her foot.

  She steps to the side, but her eyes are still on me. “I didn’t mean you don’t earn your money.” I move out of the way, letting her exit. She steps out into the hall. “Danny, I’m sorry.”

  Whether she meant it or not, hearing her disparage my responsibilities, when she knows how hard I’ve worked to achieve what I have—how much I have always wanted this—it’s just too much. I feel fucking raw. She doesn’t want me. And even if she did, she’s right regarding the contracts. We can’t start anything while under the terms. Fuck!

  My eyes meet Claudia’s and Reese turns to see her standing behind her. Embarrassment shades her face when she looks back.

  Playing games has never interested me, especially when it comes to Reese. I know she’s not heartless, but that comment hurts my pride. I’m too irate to talk this out. Even though I hate what I’m about to do, I do it anyway. “Claudia, want to get a drink? I heard about a bar just a short drive from here.”

  Anger flashes in Reese’s eyes that still glisten from the tears that recently filled them, but she doesn’t put up a fight. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to find Vittori.”

  Claudia says, “Let him know I’ll be keeping Danny company.”

  Reese smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. “Will do.”

  I lock my door and Claudia adds, “I’m ready if you are.”

  Reese looks up one last time before she disappears down the stairs. I turn to Claudia, and reply, “I’m ready.”

  17

  DANNY

  I don’t drink the day before a photo shoot. One of the golden rules that has kept me on top of the modeling world.

  Until tonight.r />
  Reese has me all twisted inside. It’s fucked up to feel this way.

  We’ve got a few beers in us when Claudia lights up. Blowing the smoke into the air, she has her attention set on me. “What’s the story with you and the ad woman back there?”

  “No story.”

  Laughing, she leans her elbows on the table. “There’s definitely a story there, but if you want to forget about it, then I’m your girl.”

  “You’ll help me forget?”

  “Damn straight.” She takes another long drag. She’s pretty in that too perfect kind of way. I can appreciate the uniqueness of her wide-set eyes and reed-like body. Her confidence is sexy in a blatant expression of sexuality. Reese’s sexy is understated and undeniable—her body, her mind, her words, the way she moves her lips when she speaks of something she’s passionate about. Everything. All of her. Sexy.

  Spinning my bottle between my fingers, I ask, “I thought you had a boyfriend, so how are you going to help me forget?”

  “We’re fluid.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  I sit forward and she sits back. “It means we go where life takes us, experiencing life, and the adventures as they come.”

  “I call that going with the flow.” I throw in a hang loose hand sign.

  “You’re so old school, Danny.”

  Nodding, I chuckle. “I might have to agree with you.” I stand to get more beers when Claudia speaks under her breath. “Your girlfriend’s here.”

  I follow her stare. Vinnie and Reese are walking in, Vinnie smiling. Reese not. While approaching, he asks, “Can we join you?”

  Claudia scoots her chair to the side. “Yeah. Danny was getting another round, but I can get it if you want something.”

  He waves her off. “Oh, no. No. I’ll buy. I want to ask their sommelier what he recommends to go with tumbleweeds.” Looking around, he says, “This place is just so desert charming.”

  We laugh, and I say, “I think this is as fancy as Marfa gets.” Checking out the bartender, I direct him to sit down so he doesn’t humiliate himself by asking for a wine connoisseur in the middle of nowhere. “Earlier the bartender said it was the sommelier’s night off.”

  Pouting, he sits down dramatically, throwing his arms up in surrender. “Fine. I’ll have what you’re having.”

  Reese and I lock eyes. She says, “Bourbon please. On the rocks with a slice of orange on the side.”

  I head to the bar, hands tucked in my pockets not sure how this night is going to go. It’s either going to be amazing or disastrous. fifty-fifty chance of going either way.

  Vinnie joins me at the bar, propping his foot up on the foot rail as if he’ll somehow blend in despite the head-to-toe purple he’s wearing. “I’m thinking we need the bottle.” He slaps black plastic on the counter, the credit card hitting with a crack. “I guess it didn’t go well?”

  “What?” I’m kind of impressed in his ability to read us so well.

  His head rolls on his neck to turn to me. “No need to play dumb with me, Model Danny. I’m on your side.”

  “You’re not on Reese’s side?”

  “See, that’s what you don’t understand. We’re all on the same side.” He leaves me with his words of wisdom, rejoining the ladies.

  I hate when I’m blinded by my emotions. The dust cloud in my head clears; I look back at Reese. It’s so obvious now. He’s right, but so is she. We can’t be together. That would go against everything I signed. It would go against what I promised Mark. Reese Carmichael is off limits. For her sake and mine.

  In the meantime, I can still admire how damn sexy she is, even when she’s mad at me. Maybe even more when she’s mad. The thought amuses. The problem with enjoying an inside joke is that people start to think you’re crazy. That makes me laugh louder, finding it too funny to stop myself.

  Naturally, that’s when the bartender finally comes over to take my order. I take the bottle, the tab, and glasses to the table. I sit across from Reese, crammed between Claudia and Vinnie. The ice clatters when bourbon is poured over it. Once we have a drink, we raise them meeting in the middle. Vinnie toasts, “To great photo shoots.”

  We all repeat, “To great photo shoots.”

  I finish my drink in one long swallow. The others sip. Staring at Reese, I silently will her to look me in the eyes. I miss having her look at me, look at me like I matter.

  When she finally does, she says, “How did your shoot go the other day?”

  “Well.”

  “Who was the client?”

  “Vargo.”

  “Ahh.”

  That’s it. That’s all she says. I honestly don’t understand what we’re doing, so I ask her, moving on from the boring topic of what company I was working with. “What keeps you in New York?”

  She about spits her bourbon out, but doesn’t. That’s my girl. When the shock disappears, she replies, “My life.”

  “What if you had the chance to travel without worrying about your life in Manhattan?”

  Thoughtfully pondering, she doesn’t rush to answer. When she does, she says, “I would take the money and reinvest in a world trip. I want an espresso in Italy and croissants in Paris. Chocolates in Belgium, and strudel in Germany. I sound like such a foodie, but really it’s just an excuse to eat all the bad stuff.” She laughs and it’s carefree, the bourbon sinking in, lowering her guard. “Where would you go and what would you eat?”

  Claudia eyes her cynically, then lights another cigarette. “I don’t eat.”

  Oh shit!

  Reese pops an eyebrow, the challenge accepted. “You have to eat. To survive,” she says and I expect sarcasm to be dripping, but it’s not. She’s completely serious with Claudia.

  “You’re right, but I don’t eat the kind of stuff you eat. I snack on water-based foods.”

  Reese snorts and Vinnie reacts by laughing nervously. I’m used to the strange eating habits of models and what they’ll do to stay thin, but I’m still cringing inside despite outwardly enjoying this more-than-entertaining conversation. It’s heading into confrontation territory. Claudia has her claws out, but the ball is in Reese’s court.

  Reese’s pupils zero in and the look on her face I’m all too familiar with. Here it comes…

  “And when you say water-based, is that like cigarettes and alcohol? And what food groups do tobacco and booze fall under anyway?”

  I stand abruptly, my chair wobbling back before the feet land loudly back on the stone beneath our feet. “Reese, let’s dance.”

  Her head whips to the side where a few couples have taken to the makeshift dance floor in front of a small stage. “I don’t know how to country dance.”

  I’m before her with my hand out, palm up. “It’s been a few years, but I’ll lead.”

  Accepting the invitation, she stands. The dance floor is empty as the song changes when we make our way to the middle. A sign of her unease slips into place when her bottom lip is squeezed under the pressure of her top teeth. With stiff upper arms, our bodies align, remembering their position from years before. When she looks up, she says, “It’s been a few years since we’ve danced together. I think I’ve forgotten how to do this.”

  A few notes of our heart song plays in my head drowning out our earlier argument. I’m holding her again, and she’s willingly following. Leading, I step forward and she steps back, her body remembering. “Let me remind you how good we were together.” We continue to move, our pace in sync.

  “You say that as if we’re not talking about the two-step.”

  Pulling her closer, our bodies pressed together, my hand sliding to the curve of her waist, my head tilted down, hers tilted up, her cheek pressed to mine, I say, “I’m not.”

  She feels it. I can tell by the way her body moves against mine, a comfort found in the closeness. “Danny, why do you say such things?”

  When the song changes we continue to sway to the music, my grip holding her here with me. Though from the grip sh
e has on me, I’m thinking she intends to stay as much I want her to. “Why do you try to deny it?”

  She leans back to look at me. “I haven’t. That’s the problem. We’re not in a position to act on temptations.”

  It’s my turn to take a step back. “Temptation? We’re more than that and you know it. I have a feeling you knew exactly how this would play out when you pitched me in that meeting. What were you trying to get from this reunion?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I had no motives, not conscious ones, but I’ve been curious. That’s only natural. You’ve never thought of me?”

  “I can’t say I haven’t, but I tried damn hard not to.”

  “Why is that?”

  Dropping my hands, I’m ready for another drink. I stand there vulnerable to emotions I had buried. Emotions that make me feel raw inside. I hate it. “Because it was too painful to think of you at all.” I leave her in the middle of the dance floor. I never liked the two-step anyway.

  Vinnie is by himself when I take my seat. “Where’s Claudia?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “Just a few minutes.” He doesn’t seem alarmed so I pour myself a drink and sit back to drown the feelings Reese summoned. When Reese returns, I top up her glass, figuring she’ll need it as much as I do.

  She asks, “Where’s Claudia?”

  “Bathroom,” Vinnie replies. He looks over his shoulder toward the bathrooms. “Maybe you should check on her.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Because everyone seems so concerned about her absence.”

  I sit back, listening to the exchange and am about to go check on her myself when Reese rises. “I’ll do it.”

  She’s gone long enough for me to keep checking the hall that leads to the bathrooms every half minute. When they finally come back, at least five minutes has passed.

  Claudia takes her seat again, and she nods like nothing is new in the world.

  I look to Reese for an unspoken question to what happened, but Claudia asks, “I heard they have shuffleboard. Come play with me, Danny?”