Dirty Talk

by S. L. Scott

  “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 she 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?”

  Again, my eyes flash to Reese, who looks pissed but is managing to hold it in. I stand up, not to spite Reese, but to be there for Claudia. Something’s changed in her mood and I want to make sure she’s all right.

  Walking with her away from the table, I don’t look back, fighting my instincts. Just inside an old addition to the structure, a long shuffleboard table stands. Claudia detours to the bar for change and I’m left to dust the surface. She returns with change and starts the machine. Standing at the opposite ends of the table, we wing it since neither of us really knows how to play. After the first game, I catch a glimpse of Reese. She’s sitting on the table with her feet propped up on a chair. Her back is to us as she talks animatedly to Vinnie. He’s all smiles and laughter in return. A crappy feeli
ng comes over me. It’s been a while, but I recognize it. Shit!

  I’m jealous.

  I shouldn’t be over Vinnie, but I am. Is this how she felt seeing me in magazines, on commercials? Is this the legacy I left her with from our relationship? The memories of what she held on to? No fucking wonder she left. This sucks. I want her to talk to me like that—so freely, so happy. It’s exhausting to constantly be under the microscope of our circumstance. I want his freedom with her. I want a fresh start… with her.

  Claudia is quiet. I’d almost venture to say contemplative. She wins, and while setting up for another round, I ask, “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing,” Claudia replies, badass defensive attitude intact.

  Staring into her eyes, her pupils are dilated, the darkness overtaking the green. I debate if I should call her out on it or let it go. Because of her mood, I feel the need to talk to her about it. “You’ve got to get clean.”

  “I am clean.”

  “You know what I mean. The drugs give the illusion of happiness, but when you really look at yourself on them, you’ve lost the joy inside.”

  “You don’t know me, Danny. I take them to cope with this life.”

  “You have an amazing life—a boyfriend who cares about you, a great career. You’ve broken through that barrier most models crack under. Don’t throw it away.”

  She laughs. “Men age and they’re called distinguished. Women are called hags. There’s no hope for me, so I’ll take something that gets me through this when I need to.”

  A well of hopelessness lives deep in her damaged parts. I’ve seen it in others, but not this close. She needs help. Maybe I can. “And you need to?” I keep talking while she shrugs unapologetically, “I think you like to distract yourself from what’s really going on.”

  “I don’t like to think about it.” Her sadness permeates the desert air. “My agent says my career is winding down and I should consider going to school. Everything is bullshit, Danny.” She puts her arms out wide. “An illusion of glamour and money.”

  “Your mind is playing tricks on you because of the drugs.”

  “Well, it’s a fabulous fucking trick,” she says perking up. “Want to join me?”

  “I prefer reality.”

  “I bet I could get your girlfriend to join me.”

  Too close. I feel a growl rumble through my chest. There’s something in her eyes that’s sinister and my guard goes up. My words come out more protective than casual. “Leave her out of this. She talks a big game, but she doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Touchy touchy.” She starts to walk away, but stops and adds, “Have you ever destroyed a hotel room, fucked someone in a public bathroom, done coke just because you want to? Just live—wildly and in the moment? Been authentic?”

  I pause, not comfortable with the conversation. “Living an illusion isn’t being authentic, Claudia. It’s being pretentious.”

  “This illusion is so much prettier than my reality.” She pats my chest and returns to the table. I overhear her say, “Light it up, bitches. Let’s get this party started.” Claudia takes the bottle and tilts it back, downing more than a shot.

  I take it away and set it on the table. “We have the shoot tomorrow. Maybe we should go.”

  Reese’s glass is empty and she leans back, staring at me. “It just got fun.”

  “Don’t be a party pooper, Model Danny,” Vinnie says, adding to the obnoxiousness.

  I double-check the bottle. Yep, there’s barely any left. “Did you guys down this while we were gone?”

  Reese laughs and pokes me. “Maybe. I’ll buy you a drink.”

  She gets up and brushes against me as she passes. I’m quick and stop her from leaving. “I’m good. I think we should go though.”

  Claudia gets up and dances behind Vinnie.

  Reese throws her arms into the air. “I love to dance.”

  Did I just walk into a twilight zone? What the fuck is going on with everyone? “I think the desert air is messing with you.”

  She laughs. “You’re right. This clean air is making me loopy.”

  “I need to get you out of here before you do something dumb.”

  “I’ve already done enough dumb for a lifetime.” Her finger touches my temple and she slowly drags it down around my jaw and taps me on the chin. With a little lick of her lips, she then smiles just for me. Something erotic, something brave, maybe that’s freedom seen in her eyes before she says, “Now I want to have some fun.”

  For her sake, she’s lucky we’re not alone or I’d be all over her and that goddamn tempting tongue.

  A weathered cowboy with a large chip sitting squarely on his shoulder under his wide-brimmed hat approaches just as I reach for her belt loop and tug her closer. Vinnie does a low wolf whistle, eyeing the cowboy and I cross my arms, standing my ground, as he looks Reese over. As if I’m not even there, he asks her, “Wanna dance?”

  “I love dancing,” she replies, her finger now getting caught in my belt loop. Her body language is crystal clear to me, and should be to him. “Sorry, but my dance card is already full.”

  “C’mon, little lady, let me take you for a spin.”

  He remains there, the crystal not so clear I guess. So I stand, and say, “She said no.”

  Looking her over again and giving me an eat-shit grin, he offers her his hand. “Just one dance.”

  He doesn’t like no for an answer, and I’m not going to argue with him because I don’t like wasting my time. “Time to go, Reese.”

  Besides no, he doesn’t take kindly to strangers either. “You run along now and leave the grownups to party.”

  Reese leans against my chest, one arm around me the other resting on my chest. She looks up and smiles at me—this time seductive and insinuating. As my arms wrap around her, she says, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m leaving with him.”

  Grumbling is heard when he mutters, “Lucky bastard.” He walks away with no further complaint.

  Reese says, “You hear that, ya lucky bastard?”

  I laugh for many reasons, but mainly because she’s so cute right now. Squeezing her a little tighter, I repeat, “I am a lucky bastard. The luckiest.”

  CHAPTER 18

  ~Danny~

  CLAUDIA IS ON a mission to self-destruct with a shot of tequila in one hand and Vinnie eating out of the other as she tells him fables of her model’s life. I’m done drinking for the night. I don’t want to feel like shit tomorrow and want to savor tonight. “You ready?” I ask Reese.

  “I am,” she says, and gives her farewells. I set the keys in front of Vinnie and whisper, “The hotel is only a few blocks away. We’ll walk. Don’t let Claudia drive back. Okay?”

  “Okay. Goodnight, Model Danny.”

  I nod toward the exit and we go. The six or so blocks back don’t feel like enough time alone with Reese, but I’ll take what I can get. The fresh air will also do us both some good.

  Not wanting to waste a second, I ask, “Who was your rebound?”

  Bumping into me, she says, “You might be.” When her laughter rings out, including a snort, I know I should have stopped her from having that last shot. But I’m too blindsided by what she actually said to worry about her snorting or how much she drank. Instead the words “you might be” are ping-ponging around my brain and I’m tempted to get her more truth serum, aka tequila.

  We can’t.

  I know this, I remind myself.

  We know this.

  She’s a damn flirt. A damn, temptingly gorgeous flirt.

  It’s in the new Illustrious handbook and stated clearly in the last contract. But when she twirls, all her worries gone from her body, I’m close to breaking that contract and every promise I made Mark.

  I catch up to her and we cross the street together. “You shouldn’t drink. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

  She looks hopeful. “Would that trouble include you? Because I’m all for getting into trouble with you.”


  I think I’ve opened Pandora’s box, or maybe revealed Victoria’s secret. Sexy girl. “You say that as if you’d follow through when we both know you won’t.”

  She moves in front of me, making me stop. With her hands on my stomach, small little movements tell me she’s taking advantage of the situation and enjoying the feel of my eight-pack. “Is that a challenge, Danny boy?”

  Sighing, she’s exasperated in the most adorable way. She’s trying so hard to get me to play along, and I’m tempted. I can play with the best of them. Just not with her. This time it’s too close to my heart. She’s too close to my heart and a huge part of my history. I take hold of her wrists and drag them down until she’s about to touch me where I really want her hands, then stop and remove them altogether. “I’ll lose to you, Reese. Every time—whether intentional or not. So this isn’t me challenging you. This is me recognizing the situation for what it is.”

  With a flourish, she turns and starts walking again. I stay behind her, thinking she might need the time to think like I do.

  Or not…

  “Remember that time we almost got arrested for having sex in the car?” she asks, her smile back in place.

  “I do. I remember being handcuffed while wearing only my boxers.”

  “You looked hot if that makes a difference.”

  Chuckling, I say, “Sure, that makes all the difference.”

  “Well, I did talk him into freeing you and you never did pay me back.”

  “I remember very distinctly paying you back about four times over that night.” As if cued to do so, I wink.

  “No, not that. Although that was a very fun night.”

  She’s light on her feet, her happiness abounding with each step. So much like the girl I once knew. The girl I fell head over heels for. An ache grows in my chest. Along with the good memories, others take away from the happiness we once shared together. I don’t say anything. I’m not in the mood to relive them tonight or to argue. I just want to enjoy this star-filled night in the middle of nowhere and this moment in time with a woman I’ve fallen for all over again. But we can’t go there. Yet.