TASTE ME

by Carrie Alexander

  He apologized about the gossip and the photos, as if that had been his fault. For Nikki's sake, Mia neglected to mention the Hard Candy connection, although she worried about what Petra Lombardi might attempt next.

  Nikki, meanwhile, had sworn she would conduct a reconnaissance from her new staff position at the magazine. Mia had surprising confidence in her. Nikki was brash and optimistic, blessed with a happy-go-lucky confidence that she could conquer the world if she had the time to spare in between shopping, clubbing and decorating her new office cubicle. If Mia's relationship with Julian hadn't been so up in the air, she would have embraced Nikki as her new little sister. Even Very, who'd dropped by Mia's apartment one day out of curiosity, had returned for pizza-and-board-game night, and now seemed almost like one of the crowd.

  Other than for Very and Nikki and Cress and Fred and Leslie asking when she'd see Julian again—so far Stefan and Mrs. Snookums were silent—Mia made it past her fifteen minutes of fame just fine. She stayed in when she could, working at home, giving up salvage night and an invitation to a club opening in favor of tea with Miss Delaney and Edmund Flax. No paparazzi showed up at her door, so after a week she guessed that she was safe. She ventured out for lunch at her favorite Greek diner, stopped to buy groceries at the bodega and was passing a magazine kiosk when some instinct made her buy a copy of the tabloid that had printed her pictures.

  She flipped through the pages right there on the street.

  And there it was: a photo of Julian, arriving at a premiere party for a movie or a book or designer handbags, she didn't care. What mattered was that there was a stylish new accessory on his arm and her name was Petra Lombardi.

  At approximately the same moment, in the offices of Hard Candy, Julian sat on the floor of Nikki's cubicle and moped. "I will never listen to you again," he said to his sister's fishnet kneecaps. "Mia couldn't give a damn about who I escort to which party. And now I'm stuck down here, among your debris—" he pried a candy bar wrapper off his palm and dropped it into the trash can "—hiding from Petra." He started to get up. "This is not dignified."

  "Stay down," Nikki hissed. "Petra's still prowling."

  "Look. I'll tell her that I went with her only as a professional courtesy. Again. She'll understand. This time. I can't hide from her forev—"

  Nikki gave his head a shove, then popped up from her chair. "Petra." She grabbed papers off her desk and hustled out from behind her partitions. "I could use your input on this new idea of mine…"

  Julian listened as Nikki rattled on about a girl-talk column, walking toward the door to draw Petra out of the cubicle area of the office. He climbed into her desk chair and sat with his head in his hands, staring at the flower bouquet he'd dropped off on Nikki's first day of work. That was when Petra had cornered him, claimed her current boyfriend was out of town and asked if he wouldn't fill in as her escort to a movie premiere sponsored by the magazine. Initially he'd said no, but after days of Mia's stonewalling, he was at a loss for what to try next. When Nikki had come up with the idea that being seen with a different woman would take the pressure off Mia…

  Bad idea, in retrospect. He must have been desperate to try it in the first place.

  All day he'd only been able to reach Mia's answering machine, and he'd left increasingly idiotic messages. She'd probably been listening with Fred or Cress and making sport of him, angry now instead of only leery. To top it off, Petra had clawed at him in the back of the limo after the premiere, ready to strip him down and give him a tongue bath. His skin had crawled at the idea, when before he'd found her to be rather sexy in that poised feline way of hers. After he'd turned her down, she'd been less than her usual cool self, talking about how he needed a woman who fit into his lifestyle and how good they looked together. He hadn't been able to get away fast enough.

  Life had been less complicated as Bachelor Seventeen, that was for sure.

  Nikki returned to the cubicle. "She's gone."

  "Then I have to go. I'm supposed to be somewhere else anyway."

  "Hold it." Nikki sat on the edge of her desk and gripped the arms of the desk chair, keeping him in place. "You have no perspective. I'm a girl. I understand how Mia is feeling."

  He snorted. "Not likely. You love to be mentioned in the gossip columns. Mia's not like that—she's a minister's daughter."

  "Really? Wow. I didn't know." Nikki paused. "It doesn't exactly show."

  "That's not the point."

  "All right. The point is, you have to trust me, Julian. I know what I'm doing, and I swear to you that Mia is not going to stay mad for long once you explain. Just don't be all dominating about it. None of that for-your-own-good crap, okay?"

  He thought of the messages he'd left on Mia's answering machine. "Too late."

  Nikki sighed. "What did you do?"

  He explained.

  She threw up her hands. "Then there's only one way to go. Now you have to grovel."

  "Mia, this is Julian. It's been eight days since we last saw each other. Call me." Beep.

  "Mia, are you there? Did you go out? That's good. There's really no reason for you to worry about the tabloids. Not now. I've, uh, fixed it. But I have to explain, because you might get the wrong idea if you hear from someone else. So call me."

  Beep.

  "Don't buy a newspaper until I talk to you." Beep.

  "I meant to say please. This is, er, Julian, by the way." Beep.

  "Hey, Mia. Nikki. I had this brilliant idea for how to draw Petra out. I'm at work—ooh, I love saying that! Anyway, I'm at work, so I'll tell you all about it later. Call me."

  Beep.

  "Julian again. It's been a couple of hours. Aren't you home yet? I'm at my office, but I'm about to go into a meeting. Call me anyway—Shep is under orders to interrupt if it's you. Not an important meeting anyway. Nothing is important without—oh hell. I sound like an idiot."

  Beep.

  "Hi, this is Angelika. Do you still need a model for that jungle thing? Call me at my agency." Beep.

  "Mia, Jules again. You can't still be out. I think you're avoiding me, and if you're avoiding me it's because you've seen the photo in the paper. Listen, it wasn't my—damn it. Now I've turned into a weasel. A week without you and I'm losing it. Argh, get ahold of yourself, Silk. So, um, maybe I'll go to the gym and run off some of this energy. Call you la—" Beep.

  "I got cut off. Have you seen the paper? I know it looks bad, but it was strictly professional. I did it for your sake. Honest to God, I was thinking of you the entire time. Okay, maybe not the entire time, but you know what I mean…"

  Beep.

  "It was Nikki. Her idea. Not to make you jealous, just to throw off the gossip hounds. You see? No lie—I did it for you."

  Beep.

  "This is ridiculous. I'm sick of explaining myself. If you can accept that I had your best interests at heart—" Beep.

  "Julian here. What we have—it's too special to be thrown away over some stupid newspaper that will be in the trash tomorrow. If you don't call me soon, I'm coming over to knock down your door. That's it."

  Beep.

  Mia pressed a button to shut off the machine. She looked at Cress, who'd been listening with an increasingly dazed look about him. "That's Julian in a nutshell, my bossy beloved. What should I do?"

  Cress didn't hesitate. "Call Angelika back."

  * * *

  14

  Even a burglar wouldn't have to knock down the door to Mia's apartment. He could waltz right in, blend with the crowd and steal her blind. Julian made a mental note to speak to her about using her locks, but for now he was grateful, because he was there to steal Mia's heart.

  Grovel, he thought. Don't forget to grovel.

  Not his style, but sometimes a man had to redo what a man had done wrong.

  "We're looking at an all-night session," Mia said to the group. She stood beside her paint table, ready for action in her overalls with a brush in hand. She hadn't noticed Julian. "I'll finish Angelika first
so she can go home, then Leslie and Fred, then whoever I get to fill in for our fourth spot."

  "How about the guy who lives downstairs?" someone suggested.

  "Lance Wheatley." Mia paused, considering. "He has the right body type, but, no, he'd never go for it. Too uptight. I need someone who's not self-conscious. The leopard is the most important key to the scene."

  Angelika's head lifted off the posing table. "Did you say the most important?"

  Cress petted her forehead, one of the few spots on her magnificent body that was left bare of paint. "After you, of course, angel."

  She smiled and relaxed back into position. "Thanks, devil."

  "Can I get you anything? Socks? A scalp massage?"

  "Water. I'm parched."

  "Here you go." Cress held a sports bottle near her face and squirted water between her open lips. "Better?"

  "Perfect." They exchanged adoring looks.

  "What's going on?" Julian whispered to Fred, who'd come over with Mrs. Snookums sprawled over his kimono-clad shoulder.

  "Angelika dumped her southern gentleman billionaire. She says she can earn her own money, but only one man can give her a perfect bikini wax."

  "Let's see some action," Mia announced, clapping her hands for attention. "Cress, can you do the under-painting on Leslie while I finish Angelika's stripes? The gazelle paint is already mixed—the medium brown in the bucket over there."

  "I'm on it."

  "Fred, you might as well go home for now. Come back about—" Mia turned to look at the wall clock and saw Julian. Her eyes widened and she didn't say a word. But she didn't break out into a banshee scream or chase after him with a mat cutter, either, so he supposed he could consider that a welcome. "About 3 a.m."

  "Hi." Julian tried to look humble and apologetic. "I didn't realize you'd be this busy."

  "Tomorrow is only the most important day of my career."

  "I know. I didn't forget. I bought tickets for my sisters and myself. Hard Candy has a booth at the exhibition—playing up your cover, from what I hear."

  "Great." Her eyes avoided his.

  He dropped his voice. "Can you spare a few minutes for me?"

  "Actually, no. I'm pressed for time. I have three bodies to paint and I'm stressing over finding a new leopard. The guy that Fred recommended just phoned—he's in the hospital with appendicitis. So, as you can see, now's not the time."

  "Then how can I help?"

  She shrugged. "Just stay out of my way."

  "I could be the leopard," said a voice Julian recognized. He hadn't noticed his sister among the noise and confusion. What in the world was she doing here?

  Very bounded up from the bed in the alcove. She peeled off a thick sweater and struck a pose in slim jeans and a camisole undershirt, showing off her tithe frame. "What do you think? I'm tall and skinny like a model."

  "You are not taking part in this circus," Julian blurted. "And that's an order. Mom would die."

  Mia grimaced before addressing Very. "Thanks anyway, but I prefer a male model for the leopard. I may have to compromise if we can't find the right guy, but for now I'm not ready to change the plan."

  She gestured to the table, where Angelika was nude beneath a complicated pattern of black-and-white zebra stripes that followed the curves of her body like a contour map. "When I finish the zebra, Angelika's going to get on the phone to her agency and see if they can come up with a last-minute replacement. Someone without hang-ups about—" Mia's gaze flicked over Julian "—body art."

  He felt her disdain like a blow. His command to Very had come instinctively, after six years of worrying over his sisters' safety and well-being and the sanctity of the family name. But, really, what was he protecting? Participating in a revealing art project was no worse than being splashed on the pages of the city's scandal sheets.

  Then there was Mia. Perhaps she hadn't yet forgiven him about the outing with Petra, but she wasn't going off on it, either. That was the kind of open, accepting person she was. Open to reason, accepting of his mistakes.

  He realized that he couldn't steal Mia's generous heart. He had to earn it.

  "Ah … ahem." Julian cleared his throat loud enough to get the group's attention.

  Mia stopped with her paintbrush poised over Angelika's striped arm. "What now?" she asked with a tinge of annoyance.

  "I'll do it," he said, and watched her eyes widen. "I'll be the leopard."

  By 5:00 a.m., when Julian returned, Mia's studio had cleared out. She'd sent her models home in protective sheeting to get what rest they could before they reconvened at the exhibition center where the body-painting competition would be held. Each competitor had an assigned space in which to stage their tableau. Mia had entered in the most prestigious category, where the entrants were allowed to employ multiple models and background features. Cress was in charge of that area—he'd been haunting florists and experimenting with pebbles and water features for days.

  She'd been running on adrenaline and Red Bull for the past several hours, but her butt was starting to drag.

  Even the sight of Julian's bod as he stripped down to his birthday suit couldn't rouse much energy.

  A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "You're looking very sleek."

  He aimed a black look at her. She'd tested his commitment as a model by sending him into the bathroom to be waxed by Cress. Except for several plaintive yelps as his chest hair was ripped out by the roots, he'd done so without complaint.

  She looked him up and down beneath tired lids and saw that he'd halted the wax job at a certain point, for modesty. The thong she handed him would cover that, but she couldn't resist needling him. She glanced over the supplies. "Remember my threat about the tweezers?"

  Julian got into the thong in record time. "What now?"

  "I spray you." She directed him to an area of the studio where she'd taped plastic tarps to the walls and floor. Her airbrush was at the ready, loaded with the tawny gold that would be the background color of the leopard's fur. "Last chance," she said, adjusting her goggles, then his. "You're sure you want to do this?"

  "Too late to back out now."

  "Not really, but there is good news. Your face will be painted, too. No one should recognize you."

  He seemed relieved. Enough to manage a grin. "This is going to be quite an experience. Bachelor Seventeen standing nearly naked in front of crowds of people—"

  "And photographers," she put in, to give him fair warning.

  "Photographers?" He looked a bit sick. She supposed he was thinking about the reaction of his board of directors if they knew what their CEO was up to. "You're sure no one will recognize me?"

  "Ninety-nine percent. You'll look like a leopard, not Julian Silk. And I can pose you so that you're not facing the crowd head-on." She gave an experimental squirt with the gun's nozzle. "Ready?"

  He put his hands on his head. "As I'll ever be."

  In minutes, he was coated head to toe. She used a hair dryer to hurry the drying time and soon he was able to drop his arms and move around. "Next step," she said, and spread a clean sheet of paper across the padded table. "Hop up here and I'll start on the shading, and then the spots. I'm completing the body work now, then doing faces and touch-ups right before the competition begins."

  "Only for you," Julian said as he gingerly climbed into position. He stretched out on his stomach first, as she'd indicated. "Just so you know, I'm never groveling again."

  "Groveling?" She slapped a thick brush against the back of his thigh. Many body painters worked strictly with the airbrush, but she liked the detail of painting by hand, even though the work was painstaking. "This is groveling?"

  "It's my way of apologizing."

  "Is that the sole reason you volunteered? Did Nikki tell you to do it?"

  "Being your model was my idea. Nikki only advised me to grovel." He shook his head. "I should know better than to listen to her, after the fiasco with Petra…"

  Mia stiffened. "I listened to your messages,
" she said, rolling her shoulders to get herself to loosen up. Using the airbrush first, she worked quickly to spray on the shadows and highlights along his backside and torso. "You claim you were photographed with Petra for my own good, huh? I don't own any Arizona beachfront, so I hope you don't think you can convince me of that steaming pile of bull crap."

  "It seemed like it would work when Nikki suggested it. Throw the paparazzi off the trail, you know?"

  "At the risk of hurting me?" Earlier, Nikki had explained to Mia that she'd pushed Julian's outing with Petra so that the woman would lose her cool and they could expose her as the source of the leak to the tabloids. So far, there was no proof.

  "I didn't mean to hurt you. I tried to get in touch with you, beforehand, remember? You were already avoiding my calls. Cooling off, you called it. Which hurt me, if you want to know."

  Mia's heart dropped into her stomach. "What do you mean? I was thinking of you when I suggested we be more discreet. Specifically, of harming your image with the board of directors. I'm not like the socialites who always know how to dress and what to say, how to be the perfect corporate wife—"

  "Nope. I don't buy it. Maybe that was part of your reasoning, but you were also thinking about your own family. And that's okay. I understand. Your gut reaction was to believe that you'd disgraced them, wasn't it?"

  She winced. He was on target. Even though she tried not to worry about her parents' approval, which was pretty much a lost cause, there was still a part of herself that wanted to please them. "Yeah, you're right…"

  "Are you over that now?"

  "I guess I am, or all this body painting will be wasted."

  "So then…?"

  "What?"

  "Are we okay?"

  "Maybe." She tested the paint on his backside, pressing a finger into the firm muscle with only a small twinge of longing. "You can turn over now."