“You’re wrong. What you’re wearing is perfect for the Amazonia campaign.” He set his phone on the table and took a risk, reaching across the table to touch her hand. The electricity that flew between them made it hard to remember what he’d planned to say. “And you’re a beautiful woman. I think you’d be the perfect model for Amazonia, but what I’m suggesting tonight is basically creating mock-ups of the photos we’ll need for the ads. Once we have the poses picked, we’ll hire a professional model for the actual images we’ll show the client.”
“So, all you want me to do is give you a few poses and no one will see them other than us?”
“Well, the photographer will see them, too, since he’s the one who will be taking the pictures.” Jefferson mentally crossed his fingers. Once she saw herself on film, surely she would realize she was just as beautiful as any of the models they regularly used.
Layla finished off her shake, appearing deep in thought. Jefferson thought he might go insane feigning patience, but he was certain pushing her for an answer would guarantee she said no. If he waited until she was ready, he had a chance of hearing yes.
About the time he couldn’t wait any longer, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it, but you have to let me raid the wardrobe closet.”
“Just promise me no frilly dresses this time.” He hoped she would pick something that kept the rocker look she currently had. It captured the Amazonia brand beautifully.
She laughed, a light sound that brought a warm glow to her eyes. “I promise. Somehow I don’t think that would work well if we’re trying to convey a woman’s strength.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He wouldn’t admit how much he wanted to see her in an ultra-feminine dress one of these days. Preferably when he picked her up to take her to dinner at the best restaurant in town.
When they arrived back at Prescott and Hayes, Jefferson led the way to the small studio they used for all indoor photo shoots. As he’d hoped, photographer Tommy Ellis was already inside, setting up his equipment.
Tommy adjusted a light and turned toward them. “Hey, guys, where’d you find a model willing to work this late in the day?”
Jefferson laid his hand on Layla’s shoulder and guided her forward. “You’re looking at her.”
“Whoa! Really?” Tommy grinned as he joined them. “It’s about time you get into modeling, Layla.”
She shook her head, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry to disappoint you, Tommy, but this is a one-time gig to try out some sample poses.”
“Aw, come on. You’re breaking my heart!”
She laughed and headed for the wardrobe closet, calling over her shoulder, “You know I love you.”
An unexpected wave of jealousy hit, and Jefferson quickly tamped it down. What right did he have to be jealous? Layla didn’t know how hard he’d tried to kill his attraction to her since the day they hired her. He knew she wasn’t married and didn’t have a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t flirt with every guy she ran into if she wanted. Unfortunately, he had no claim to her.
Tommy dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me, man. How’d you get her to agree to this?”
“We’re working on another ad campaign, and we agreed these shots will be used for research purposes only.”
The photographer shook his head. “Man, she could totally be your model. Have you suggested she do the real thing instead of test shots?”
“I tried, but she shot me down before I could mention it.” Jefferson grinned and patted Tommy’s back. “Be happy you get to photograph her. This is likely to be your only opportunity.”
“I’ll be sure to make it worth everyone’s while.” Tommy headed to the table holding his cameras, leaving Jefferson alone with his thoughts once more.
Thankfully, Layla didn’t take long choosing her costume. Jefferson’s heart stuttered when she stepped into the studio. If he’d thought she was beautiful before, she was drop-dead gorgeous now.
She’d traded her battered jeans for a pair of charcoal-gray, pinstriped slacks that accentuated her slim waist and curvy hips. A pale cream tank top showed off her toned and enticing upper body. The pointy black shoes she’d added to complete the outfit made her look much classier than he’d expected for this impromptu photo shoot.
Layla held her arms out and did a quick spin. “Do I meet with your approval?”
“Always.” The word slipped out before he could think about it, and he mentally kicked himself as he tried to cover his slip up. “But there’s something missing.”
“What?”
“You’ve lost that rocker look. Let me see what I can find to bring it back. You talk to Tommy about the poses you think would be best.” Jefferson hurried to the wardrobe closet, hoping he could find the right accessory to give her the tough as nails yet soft as a kitten look that appealed to him so much.
He dug through boxes and drawers before he finally found what he was looking for. Carrying his find back to the studio, he held them up with a smile. “This should do the trick.”
Layla joined him and raised her eyebrows. “Arm warmers?”
“Trust me, it’ll work perfectly.” He handed her the black-and-white striped arm warmers and watched her pull them on. As she adjusted them, he turned to Tommy. “What do you think?”
The photographer grinned and gave him two thumbs up. “You guys are geniuses together. From what Layla told me about your project, I think you’ve got the wardrobe just right.”
“Thanks, Tommy.” Jefferson released a relieved breath. He’d been a little worried that he would be the only one who liked Layla’s improved outfit.
She finished messing with the arm warmers and headed for the well-lit white background. “Okay, Tommy, let’s get this over with so we can all get out of here.”
Jefferson hung back and watched the two of them work. Each pose Tommy suggested, Layla executed with a grace and ease he didn’t often see in first-time models. The woman was a natural; she just couldn’t see it. He had high hopes that once she saw the photos, she would finally see herself the way he saw her. Where she saw only a strong-willed businesswoman, he saw so much more. Her femininity shone through, no matter what she wore. Even in the midst of an argument, Jefferson could sense her softer side. No matter what she thought of herself, to him she was the epitome of the Amazonia brand—strong yet sexy beyond belief.
An hour later, they had more shots than they would ever need. Jefferson planned to ask Tommy for one of each, but Layla seemed determined to keep as few as possible. Tommy slipped the memory card from his camera into the studio’s computer and brought up the photos. As Jefferson looked at the array of images, he was more convinced than ever that Layla was the perfect model for the ad campaign.
Unfortunately, she seemed more determined than ever to avoid modeling like the plague. “Ugh, I can’t wait to see how much better these poses look when done by a professional.”
“I don’t know,” Tommy said as he opened a larger version of one of the photos. “I think you look great, especially since you’ve never modeled before.”
“You’re crazy.”
Jefferson moved closer to look at the image on the screen. It showed Layla sitting on the floor, her legs tucked to the left and her right hand braced against the floor. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. How could she see this photo and not see how beautiful a woman she was?
He turned to find her peeling off the arm warmers. “He’s right, Layla. You look awesome in these photos. I don’t think we’re going to find a model who could do a better job.”
“Forget it, Jefferson.” She turned an icy glare on him. “I already told you I only agreed to this so we would have some poses to pick from before we bring in the model. So let’s pick the poses we want from the model we’ll hire and delete the rest of these photos before anyone else sees them.”
“In that case, which poses do you think would work the best?”
Jefferson caught the incredulous look Tommy gave him, but there was nothing h
e could do about it. Layla was a stubborn woman, and there was no changing her mind when she was in this mood. All he could do was wait for an opportune moment, send her to change back into her clothes, and then make sure Tommy saved every single one of the photos.
Three
Layla left the meeting with the client a happy woman. They had loved the vision for the ad campaign she and Jefferson had come up with, and they had picked a model from the book of headshots the agency kept. All that was left to do was to get the photos, throw together a series of ads, and get the client’s approval.
She loved it when things came together so quickly and smoothly.
As she sat at her desk writing marketing copy for Amazonia a couple of hours later, the receptionist knocked on the open door and walked in with a huge smile.
“I don’t believe it, Layla,” Mindy said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a model?”
“Because I’m not.” Layla pushed back from her computer and stretched. “Why are you asking?”
“The images for that new perfume you and Jefferson have been working on are making their way around the office.” Mindy released a happy sigh. “Girl, if I could look even half as hot as you do in those photos, I wouldn’t be stuck sitting at home so many Friday nights.”
A sinking feeling hit Layla with Titanic proportions. Jefferson couldn’t have taken her photos and given them to the client, could he? Only one way to find out. “Do you still have those images?”
“I should. They seem to have taken up residence on my desk to provide easy access for anyone who wants to see them.” Mindy’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “But don’t you already know what they look like? I mean, they’re for your ad campaign.”
Layla cast about for a halfway honest response that wouldn’t make her look like an idiot. “Jefferson and I discussed the images, but I haven’t had a chance to seen the finished product yet.”
Mindy’s features cleared and she pointed to the door. “Then get your booty out to the reception desk and take a look!”
Layla left her office and hurried down the hall. Half a dozen people were gathered around the reception desk, talking in excited tones as they studied something on the surface. Silence fell as Layla approached and they backed away, giving her a clear view of the five photos spread out on the desk. Her heart skipped a beat, and then outrage filled her as she gazed at the images of herself—the same images Jefferson had promised no one would see but the two of them and Tommy.
She snatched the photos from the reception desk and stormed past the stunned Mindy, determined to get an explanation from Jefferson immediately. Just when she thought she could trust him, just when she started to believe that maybe he wasn’t the jerk she had assumed he was, he betrayed her. She should have just told him to bug off when he suggested she do a few sample poses to help them with envisioning the ads. It had all been a ruse to get her to pose so he wouldn’t have to hire a model.
His office door was closed, and she opened it without knocking. Jefferson and Tommy rose from their seats and turned toward her. Hurt and humiliation flowed through Layla as she realized the photographer had been in on it as well. She’d always thought he was in her corner, that he was a trusted friend. How could she have been so wrong about both men?
She marched up to Jefferson’s desk and threw the photos down. “Explain to me how the sample photos containing me have suddenly become the official images for Amazonia.”
“Tommy brought them to me after you left, and the client happened to see them,” Jefferson said, coming around his desk. “They fell in love and refused to consider using the model they picked.”
She crossed her arms and glared. “And you couldn’t be bothered to tell them these photos are not for publication?”
“I tried, but they wouldn’t listen. What was I supposed to do? Tell them they had to forget they saw the images they loved and go with the other model?”
“Yes.” She turned to Tommy, her glare maintaining its force. “And you. I thought I could trust you. Why do you take these photos anywhere near the client?”
The photographer shifted uncomfortably, but she refused to go easy on him. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, Jefferson asked me to bring them to him, but I didn’t know the client was still with him. If I had, I would have waited to deliver them until he was alone.”
Even her current anger couldn’t prevent her from seeing the sincerity behind his words. Tommy didn’t deserve her wrath; he was an innocent victim of Jefferson’s scheming, power-hungry ways. “I believe you. Would you please excuse us so I can speak with Jefferson alone?”
“Sure thing.” Tommy scurried to the door and then paused, looking back with a remorseful gaze. “I’m really sorry, Layla. I never intended to let anyone other than Jefferson see those shots.”
“I know.” She managed to give him a small smile, which seemed to assuage his guilt. As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned on Jefferson. “You lying, manipulating jerk. You knew I refused to be the model for this campaign, but you made sure it happened against my will. I should sue you.”
“Layla, please.” He combed his fingers through his hair, his features weary. “It’s not what you think. I had no idea the client would hang around so long, or I would have told Tommy to wait to deliver those photos. But when he came in with them, the client assumed they were for the Amazonia campaign and grabbed them before I could stop them.”
“Why should I believe you?” Moisture stung Layla’s eyes as she realized his betrayal hurt more than when she had assumed Tommy had betrayed her. Jefferson had worked his way into her heart, leaving her more vulnerable to his actions than she liked. “You wanted me to be the model from the beginning, and now you’ve gotten your way. I can’t deal with you being out to get me any longer. Finish the Amazonia campaign yourself. You obviously don’t listen to me anyway. Effective immediately, I quit. I’ll write a letter of resignation to Marshall, but you will never see me again.”
She turned on her heel and headed for the door, but Jefferson called out and stopped her. “Wait!”
Leveling a glare on him, she crossed her arms and waited. He walked toward her, stopping a couple of feet away.
“I’m sorry, Layla. I’ve been trying to fix this since it happened, but the client is being difficult. Please don’t quit. I don’t want to see you leave because of a mix-up. I’ll take you off the Amazonia campaign, but please stay.”
She gave an unladylike snort and grabbed the doorknob. “Forget it, Jefferson. This isn’t a situation where a simple, ‘Oops! My bad,’ is going to fix it. I’m done with Prescott and Hayes, and I’m done with you.”
This time when he called her back, she ignored him and continued on to her office. She threw her personal belongings into her bag, thankful she didn’t have many. Then she sat down long enough to write a letter of resignation to Marshall Hayes, explaining why she could no longer work for Prescott and Hayes. Once she sealed it in an envelope and scrawled his name across the front, she left her office and stopped at Mindy’s desk.
The receptionist gave her a concerned look as she accepted the envelope. “Is everything okay?”
Layla shook her head. “No. Those photos were never supposed to get out. They were for reference purposes only. Jefferson blew it, and I quit. I can’t deal with him anymore.”
Mindy gasped and rose from her seat, leaning over the desk to give Layla a hug. “Oh, girl, I’m so sorry! But you can’t leave. We’ll miss you around here.”
Layla returned the hug, and then stepped back with a sigh, feeling as heartbroken as Mindy looked. “I’ll miss you, too, but I have to leave the firm for my own sanity. Jefferson is driving me nuts, and now he flat-out lied to me to get me to agree to pose for those photos. I can’t continue working for a man who doesn’t respect me and who can’t be trusted.”
As Mindy’s eyes filled with tears, Layla stepped onto the elevator for the last time. Never again would she see the offices she’d worked in for
the last five years. Never again would she see Jefferson, the man she couldn’t resist no matter how crazy he made her. The thought was like a spear to her already aching heart as the doors slid closed.
****
The pounding music of Death Fire’s current set did nothing to bring Layla out of her melancholy. She’d walked out of Prescott and Hayes three days ago, and she’d been kicking herself for quitting ever since. Why had she thought leaving the job she loved was a good idea? Yes, Jefferson had seriously overstepped his authority and completely disregarded her rights, but a quick conference with Marshall Hayes likely would have solved that issue. The problem was, if she hadn’t quit, she would have been forced to see Jefferson every day. The sight of him would undoubtedly prevent the wounds of his betrayal from healing.
That was a pain she couldn’t live with. It was hard enough dealing with it when she never had to see him again.
One of Death Fire’s groupies, also known as her cousin’s girlfriend, walked over to where Layla leaned against the barn wall. “Hey, there’s someone at the door asking for you.”
“I’ll go see about it. Thanks.” Layla pushed away from the wall, figuring it was one of the few people who knew she’d hang out at a heavy metal concert. Why they would come here was beyond her, but if they came out to find her, the least she could do was find out what they wanted.
She wove through the dancing, screaming crowd and made her way to the entrance. Nobody but the guy collecting the admission fee was by the open door. He waved her outside, his focus on the band performing at the other end of the huge pole barn. She smiled her thanks and stepped outside.
The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy heat inside. She drew in a soothing breath and looked for her visitor. A man stood nearby, his dark hair tousled in a familiar manner. Layla’s heart pounded as Jefferson approached, and she stepped away from the door so the guy inside couldn’t possibly overhear. Not that there was much risk of that with the volume of the music and the audience, but she wasn’t about to take any chances.
Amazonia Page 2
