“And I’m not some man to be toyed with. You think you can just use me as your stepping stone, and then leave me when I need you the most?”
Need. Used. Mika looked up at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? How did I use you? I was loyal to you. You knew when I came on board that I wanted more, that I eventually wanted to work on my own. You knew I wanted to learn from you, and I did. I stayed with you for years longer than I should have, because you kept firing so many assistants. I was a fool for putting my life on hold for so long. Yes, I was wrong to not tell you about the Stylist job as soon as it came up. And fine, I’ll admit I was a coward for that. But now I have to go.”
*
Ale turned away from her. Have to go. He had heard those words before. Overheard them actually, but still they hurt just as much as the first time. His own mother had said them to his father before she closed the door on them all forever, walking out on her husband and her two young sons with little more than a backwards glance. Sure, there were the cards and the occasional trips to FAO Schwartz for birthdays, always a week late because she just so happened to be traveling somewhere exotic and couldn’t find her way back on the actual day. But it wasn’t a replacement for the missing body in the bleachers on game day or when he won first place for his photographs in the high school’s art show, or that day when he’d had such intense stomach pain he passed out on the soccer field. Alejandro had been thirteen, and it had turned out to be appendicitis. His father, who by then only had time for work and his evening tumbler of Scotch, couldn’t be spared from his business deal, and his mother, somewhere in Ibiza, could only send her regards for his speedy recovery.
And now there was Mika saying she too had to go. He knew what those words meant. They meant he’d be on his own forever. Stuck here to deal with the pain of this supposedly perfect life he had. Well, to hell with it. He didn’t want to deal with it on his own. He wanted her to stay. He didn’t say anything years ago, just dealt with his pain on his own, by himself, and grinned through it. He wasn’t doing that now. Not again.
He just needed a bit more time. She’d come around and see that being with him was the right thing for both of them. He couldn’t hear her words about the magazine and her wants and her needs because to his ears, they were just excuses so she could walk out of his studio and out of his life. Forever.
He put a hand up and started to walk toward his desk, but Mika grabbed him, forcing him to turn around. “Talk to me. Tell me you understand that I have to do this for me.”
He pulled back and nodded, then brushed her short, wispy hair out of her big round eyes.
She closed them for a moment and he couldn’t resist kissing the tops of her lids. He gave a silent prayer of thanks for that moment, bracing himself for what was to come.
“I do understand, beauty, I really do. But I’m sorry, you can’t leave just yet.”
Her eyes shot open.
He continued. “You see, I need you so much right now, and we are just too busy for me to let you go. You’ll have to call them at the magazine and postpone. It just can’t be avoided, and you wouldn’t want to be considered as someone who would shirk her responsibilities.” He gave her his patented smile, all even white teeth and flashing eyes, the one he’d seen reflected back at him and the rest of the world so many times from the Who’s Who pages. He knew it well and had perfected it. Hoped it would pass in this moment. “Hey,” he said, tucking a finger under her chin. “Just give it a couple of weeks, and I’m sure you’ll find me a suitable replacement by then.”
With that, Alejandro stepped back and walked out the loft door, trying hard to get as much distance as he could between his words and the expression of devastation on Mika’s face.
Chapter 17
It had been two weeks and still no assistant was good enough for Alejandro. Every day with him grew more and more tense and Mika felt about at the end of her rope. She had put them off at Stylist as long as possible and was hopeful they would hold out a little more. That Ale’s name could carry just a little bit of weight. So far it had. And as it was, she couldn’t just walk out on Ale with him threatening to blackball her throughout the industry. The fashion world was small, and with one bad word, her career could be over before it even started. Right now, she felt like a caged tiger backed into a corner with the ringmaster prodding at her nonstop.
Though it was just late afternoon, Mika was fighting a killer headache since the music in the studio was blaring. Ale was photographing a pop diva for her upcoming CD cover. The diva had a small entourage of about fifteen when it came to her hair, make-up, wardrobe, Mom-ager, PR and assistants. It was an awful lot for such a young girl. But wise—or unwise—beyond her years, she still was bringing the sexy hard for Ale and his lens.
The young woman gyrated to the beat of her own music while licking her lips and smiling suggestively at Alejandro. “You know, this new album will be my coming out. I’m breaking free of my sweet image with this one.”
Ale nodded as he clicked away. Mika raised a brow as she looked on from behind him. When was she ever America’s Sweetheart? The girl was delusional.
“Yeah, no more Little Miss Bubble Gum. Those days are behind me,” the diva continued as she turned and gave a little butt wiggle for the camera. “You think I need the top?”
Ale coughed. “I think it would be best. You don’t want to totally alienate your core fan base, do you?”
“You think?” the girl replied.
Mika groaned as her phone vibrated with a new message. She looked down, away from the overly hormonal teen queen. It was the editor of Stylist. She stepped back to check her phone, and her heart dropped. In that moment, her world washed away.
The job was gone.
The editor sent a note saying she was sorry but she’d held the position as long as she could but had to hire someone else as they had a rush job coming up, but not to worry she would keep her in mind if something came up in the future.
The future. As if dream jobs came around every other week.
Mika looked up. The Miss Teen dream was now grinding as if on an imaginary pole, while her mother pretended not to notice and Ale continued to snap the photos.
Uncontrollable heat engulfed Mika’s body. Was this what he wanted for her? A lifetime of this?
She walked over to Ale and tapped him on his shoulder. “You haven’t won.”
“What are you talking about?” he said in between clicks.
She just shrugged and went to her desk, packing her few belongings into her tote bag.
Ale dropped his camera to his side, turning toward her.
“Hey, I thought we were working here?” The diva whined mid-spin on her platinum stilettos.
“Mika, what are you talking about, ‘I haven’t won?’” Ale yelled over the beat of the music. “And why the hell are you packing?”
She stopped shoving things into her bag and glared at him. “Just what I said. You think you can control everything and everyone. Well, you can’t control me. Not anymore. With or without a job, I’m gone. I don’t care if I never work in this industry again as long as I’m out from under you. I knew this would never work. I knew you’d never value me. Never see me for what I was truly worth. And you’ve proved it. Goodbye, Alejandro.”
“Okay. Awkward,” the diva whined. “You think we could lose the drama and get back to me now?”
Ale put up a hand, shutting up Miss Teen Queen. He sat at his desk and closed his eyes. Blocking out the image of Mika’s back as the door closed behind her. Another closed door. He shut out the sound of the blaring music and the incessant whining of the pop diva. He went deep and took his mind back to Mika and their tree on the little island in the tropics. To their good times, when she’d laughed in their early days of working together. To the easiness and the joy. And he wondered how he’d screwed it all up so fast.
Chapter 18
Mika didn’t know how she did it, but she did.
She’d not only survi
ved these past seven months but thrived.
And time spent thinking about Ale? She was down to only about twice a day now. Morning and night. That had to count for something. It helped that now her days were filled to the hilt with an over-packed schedule that, ironically, had her on a mad hunt for an assistant of her own to help organize things. It still surprised her how the tables had turned in her life.
A week after leaving Ale, the editor at Stylist called her back saying the person she’d hired was a disaster and she hoped that Mika was still available. She got a second chance at the chance of a lifetime.
But, over the idea of putting all her hopes in one basket, Mika told the editor that she’d be happy to work for the magazine, just not exclusively. It was time to fully take charge of her destiny and if Stylist wanted her, there were bound to be others. The nightmare with Alejandro had taught her that.
The editor agreed, and before long, Mika found many jobs from up-and-coming magazines. Soon she had to rent her own studio space in Brooklyn. It may not be Manhattan, but she could see the skyline out her window—and that was just fine by her.
Mika was just putting away her equipment from a shoot for a local designer when a knock sounded at her studio door.
“Hey, doll!” She was immediately engulfed in Robin’s warm hug. “So this is where you’re hiding out? I thought I’d just come on over instead of waiting for an invite. I guess mine was lost in the mail.” Robin walked by her and into the studio, leaving Mika to blush behind her.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with work, and things have been happening pretty fast.”
Robin turned around, waving a hand. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Not. The last time I saw you, you didn’t want to hear a thing I had to say, but no matter. I can see with my own two eyes that you’re doing fine now, and that’s what I wanted.”
“I’m sorry. I really haven’t been a good friend.”
Robin stopped her. “Hush, you’ve been great. I just missed you.”
Mika smiled. It felt good to see her old friend. She took Robin’s hand. “It just hurt back then to have any reminders of Alejandro around. I had to move on.”
Robin nodded. “So have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Moved on, silly. Is there anyone new?”
Mika let her hand go. “No, just me and my camera, but as you can see, it’s treating me just fine.” She spun around, showing off her jeans, one-shouldered top and new haircut with a wink.
Robin laughed. “Good. Then you’ll come with me to Alejandro’s book party tonight.”
Mika froze. “You have got to be kidding me. Were you not just listening?”
“Sorry, but if you’ve moved on why don’t you prove it? Come to the party with me. It’s for that Beauty book of his. You worked on it too. You should be there. Didn’t you get an invite?”
“I did, but I didn’t plan on going.”
“You should. You were there for him for many years. Part of this triumph is yours. Don’t let the past hold you back. You said you’ve moved on—maybe he has, too. Are you not up for the challenge?”
Mika looked into Robin’s daring eyes and knew she’d regret her next words. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
*
“Stop fidgeting and smile,” Robin said. But still Mika fumbled with the gold bangles at her wrist and adjusted the thin strap of her top one more time before she got out of the taxi in front of the downtown gallery where Ale’s book launch was being held.
There was the usual New York fashion crowd gathered in the white space of the gallery, mingling about with flutes of champagne. On a center entrance wall, the word BEAUTY was tumbled in black block letters. Mika sucked in a breath and steeled her back at seeing it. She could practically hear Ale whispering the word in her ear. She took an involuntary step back.
“You okay?” Robin asked.
She plastered her smile back in place. “I’m fine.”
Robin gave her an arched brown in return. “If you say so.”
She nodded. “I do. Now you’ve got me here. Let’s do this.”
Robin grinned. “That’s my girl.”
The surrounding outer walls held photographs of stylized models juxtaposed with city scenes and nature shots from some of their past shoots. They were placed high and low on the walls, the nature shots higher than the stylized posed shots. Ale was clearly saying something about valuing nature over vanity. She had to agree—his more candid shots were better than the stylized ones in most cases. He captured raw beauty in a unique way.
“I’ll be right back, hon,” Robin said over her shoulder. “I need to find the ladies.”
“Sure, okay,” she said, hoping her friend wouldn’t leave her for long. She thought about following, but no, she would not cower at Ale’s party. Besides, Robin was already steps ahead and she’d have to run to catch up. Not smooth.
She looked at a few more photos and when she looked up again Robin was waving her over to a group she was with that included Brian, Daniel and a scrubbed-clean, fresh-faced and very pregnant Karina. Mika froze. She knew this had been a bad idea. But then she was stunned to see Brian lean in and lovingly nuzzle Karina’s neck and, despite the baby bump, the still willowy model glowed under his attention.
Mika had to will her mouth closed. The image of Karina leaving the huts—could she have been exiting Brian’s? All the accusations she threw at Ale were now peppered with doubt.
“Would you care for a drink, ma’am?”
Mika’s world stopped with a screech at the sound of his voice.
“I know it’s a lame line, and after seven months you’d think I’d come up with something better, but seeing you here now, I’m a little tongue tied.”
Mika turned and looked up into Ale’s deep brown eyes. They were just as expressive and intense as always. “Hello,” she squeaked out. Okay, so that wasn’t the strongest start ever.
“I’m so glad you came. I’ll forever be in Robin’s debt.”
Mika turned Robin’s way and narrowed her eyes. Robin caught the glance, and quickly ducked, looking the other way. So her friend had played her. Mika shook her head, then looked back at Ale. Seeing him now, in the flesh, she really couldn’t muster up the strength to be mad at Robin.
“Well, you worked hard. I wanted to say congratulations.”
He lowered his eyes, sweeping his gaze down her body from her eyes to her toes and back. It was as if every glance was a caress, and she fought not to fidget.
“You haven’t changed. I mean you have, I love the new hair and all, but you’re still you. I’m so glad.” She watched as he fumbled a bit with his words. Something he normally never did. “Besides, it’s you I should congratulate. It seems you’re a rising star. But deep down, I always knew that.”
“Ale, please, you don’t have to.”
He shook his head. “No, I do. This is long overdue. I’m so sorry I ever held you back. I hope you know it. I need you to know it.” The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than she could comprehend. “I’ve changed, and I’ve spent the past seven months trying to prove that to you.” He shook his head. “I know now, you never really needed me. It was me who needed you. So much.”
“Hey there! Great show. But then I expected nothing less from Alejandro the Great.” A lanky woman in a black column dress snaked her arm through Ale’s. It was Lauren, the editor at Stylist.
Mika noticed Ale stiffened a bit under her touch. “Thanks so much, Lauren. I’m glad you could make it.” He said the words carefully while keeping his eyes on Mika as if he were afraid she would run away.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She waved her free arm that held her empty glass of champagne. “This is my opportunity to thank you face to face.”
Ale pulled free of her, breaking his gaze from Mika for a moment. “There’s no need. Can I get you another glass of champagne?”
“No need? Oh Ale, please, modesty doesn’t become you. Thanks to you setting me straight abo
ut this little treasure,” She waved her glass at Mika and beamed, “My magazine is thriving more than ever. Why, soon we won’t be able to afford her. She is quite the star. Always in demand.” Mika blinked at them both as it all clicked. Oh God—the job and how it miraculously fell back in her lap. It was him.
All him.
“Yes, a star describes her almost perfectly,” Ale said pinning her with his eyes. “Please excuse us.”
He took her hand and pulled it to his lips. Was she trembling?
“Ale, please. Please. People will see.”
“And you think I care?”
She knew he didn’t. “Stop. You have to stop.”
He laughed at that. The same laugh that rumbled over her body and caused her spine to tingle so many times. “That’s your favorite word for me. It always has been. It is the only thing you’ve ever been wrong about. Trying to get me to stop and just push aside my feelings for you.” He kept her hand and pulled her further into the gallery, away from Lauren, and Karina, and the rest of the New York fashion crowd all in black. He eased her a little closer to his body, and suddenly she was in the cocoon of his familiar warmth. “But me, I was wrong about so much more.” He stopped and looked her in the eyes. His shone brightly with hope and something she never thought she’d see. “I’m sorry, Mika. I was wrong to try to control you for so long. It was my own selfishness and, I’ll admit it, fear at losing you. I never doubted for a minute your ability to rise to the top, just like I never saw you as any less than the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”
He ran a gentle hand over hers. Those long fingers she had always admired intertwined with hers, and her breath caught. Her lips trembled. “Ale, we can’t go back to what we had.”
He smiled. “Of course not. We are so far beyond that. You are totally your own woman with a thriving career and business. And me, well, I’ll have to stay on my toes just to keep up with you, but I’m happy to do it if I can be anywhere near your world. Please just think about it.”
Through The Lens (Creative Hearts Book 1) Page 18
