“Shaun!” He jetted down the cobbled sidewalk, holding his jeans with one hand as he ran, well aware of the flashes of lights beaming behind him. Once he reached her he took her arm, reveling when she didn’t immediately pull away. He came to face her and leaned in close so the cameras surrounding them couldn’t hear.
“I swear to god I thought you knew,” he said, breathlessly.
Shaun scoffed in disgust and tried to walk away, but Adam pulled her back, pressing his lips to her ear and taking her waist to turn them away from the cameras. With crossed arms, she pressed her back up against a random black truck. He followed her, his face alongside hers, cheek to cheek.
“We had an agreement didn’t we? You get your face in the paper and I get to wipe the tarnish off my name,” he said softly in her ear. “I’m not asking you to forgive me, I’m not even asking you to like me. I’m just asking you to hold up your end of the bargain, and your end of the bargain isn’t to be the lady who hates my guts, it’s to be the lady who’s on my arm. We’re just two people doing business and then cutting all ties when that business is done.”
With every word he said Shaun became more and more relaxed, not because she was liking him any more than she had five minutes ago, but because he was making sense--a lot of sense. If she broke ties with him now there was no way she’d be able to write her article. If Adam was going to use her as a pawn to fix his broken image, why should she have a problem using him as a pawn to further her career? She suddenly didn’t feel bad anymore. She didn’t feel deceitful and she didn’t feel like a liar. She felt like a woman who was ready to start taking in a world full of takers.
Her eyes shut and she begged for patience when Adam continued to whisper in her ear, “Now, I need you to hug me because these cameramen are taping us. We don’t hate each other. We adore each other.” His arms went around her waist and he pulled her body to his, sighing as that damn perfume wafted into his senses, again.
Shaun stood with limp arms, like a dead fish, and saw the knowing look in Adam’s eyes when he pulled away.
“You adore me,” he reminded her with raised eyebrows, taking her hands and placing them around his neck. Bending his knees, he reclaimed her waist and brought her to her toes as he stood tall, forcing her to hold onto him. He breathed deeply. A girl who was destined to hate him had no right to smell so good.
The camera flashes intensified.
Shaun took a deep, disgusted breath, and let her arms plop lazily against his back. It was the best hug she could muster. “Your jeans are stupid,” she mumbled.
“That’s not very adoring,” Adam chided, tucking his nose into her fragrant neck.
What the hell was she wearing? It was dangerous.
Three
Shaun stirred awake, cringing against rising sun outside her bedroom window. She felt like hell but still managed to roll sluggishly onto her side to glare disdainfully at her ringing cellphone. When she saw the time blaring up from the screen, she almost took the phone and threw it at the wall.
The rage this induced. Anyone who knew her knew not to call her any time before noon if they wanted to keep all their fingers and toes. With a groan, she answered. “What?”
“Hey. It’s Adam.”
”What?”
“Uh. Hey. It’s. Adam.” Adam said, more slowly this time.
Flashbacks from Sushi Samba the night before hit her from every direction and she was unable to sort her thoughts.
“How did you get this number?” Was she dreaming? This had to be a dream. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“I just got done slamming my fifth Red Bull since 4am so, yeah, I have a pretty good idea what time it is.”
Shaun covered her forehead with her hand. Her skull was suddenly pounding. “What do you want?”
“I need you.” Adam faltered, “I mean… I have a job for you.”
Her eyes popped open. Was this conversation actually happening? Her brain raced but all she could manage was an idiotically mumbled, “Huh?”
“Huh,” Adam mimicked. “When in the last twenty-four hours did you become dyslexic? What happened to the know-it-all wordsmith sitting across the table from me last night? I’m telling you I have a job for you.”
Shaun was so confused that she was struck silent. It was obscenely early in the morning and she was talking to a man who was already on his fifth Red Bull of the day. This conversation couldn’t possibly be going anyplace good. She sputtered something incomprehensible that sounded like a toss-up between “coffee” and “fuck off.”
Suddenly, something that sounded akin to a plane crash chimed in from Adam’s end of the phone, making Shaun pull it away from her ear and stare at it in shock.
Adam’s voice rose in an attempt to be heard over the chaos going on around him. “And don’t give me some line about not getting out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars a day. You’ve never even been down a fashion runway so I’m guessing you’re not really in a position to be picky here. Wake up.”
With every word he said reality hit Shaun harder and harder. She was now wide awake and sitting halfway up. It had finally occurred to her that a man who thought she was a model was telling her that he had a job for her.
Her heart began to race wildly, blood pumping pure fear through her veins. “Uh, wait a minute. I don’t think I can…I have plans today,” she spat anxiously. Plans to curl up on her couch and watch Modern Family re-runs, but plans none-the-less.
“Cancel them,” he demanded. “And give me your address so I can send someone to pick you up.”
“I’m not going to uproot my life just because—“
“As much as I’d love to be Merriam-Webster-ed to death by you, I really can’t do this right now.”
Shaun huffed and stared at her ceiling, begging for patience, “Adam, you don’t understand—“
“Just get down here. And thank me later,” Adam interjected. “I’m putting you on the phone with my manager, they need me on set.”
“On set?” Shaun shot up in her bed. “Wait. What set?!”
But Adam was already gone.
--
The jet black Expedition that had picked Shaun up from her Inglewood apartment finally came to a stop. As Shaun took the drivers hand and allowed him to help her out of the truck, her mouth dropped. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d ever felt so sick to her stomach. With fearful eyes and a heaving stomach she took in the madness.
There were hundreds of people milling about the huge private lot. Some were in jeans and t-shirts, carrying cameras, lights, microphones and rigs. Others were dressed to the nines with club ready hair and make-up, looking bored out of their minds. Shaun’s eyes scanned the entire area. The first strings of The White Keys’ latest single filled the air and she finally accepted that she was on a music video set.
Adam’s music video set. She saw him almost immediately. He was in those skinny jeans of his, except these were a little looser on him—a little nicer. The black leather jacket he wore looked crisp and expensive. Taking him in as he stood alone in the middle of a deserted road, singing into a moving camera, Shaun actually managed to take a deep breath. She was surprised that just the sight of him relaxed her stomach a little.
The driver walked away, leaving Shaun to look down at her black sweat suit and wonder why she hadn’t taken the time to make herself a little more presentable. Adam couldn’t have mentioned to her that his driver was bringing her to a video shoot? She wished she’d at least done something more to her hair, which was thrown up into a sloppy bun. She looked up into the sky and wondered if she’d even washed her face today. Angry at him and feeling set up, Shaun looked back to where Adam was performing and was stunned when she found him looking right back at her.
The man behind the camera, sitting in a high folding stool, fussed at Adam.
“CUT,” He cried. “Ay, Adam! Focus, please!”
Adam was already making a beeline for Shaun, pushing past workers and
extras until he was face the face with her, his green eyes intense. Without saying a word he took her hand and began pulling her onto the set. All eyes were on Adam and, in extension, now on her.
The panic was back. Shaun resisted Adam as he tugged her along, trying to reclaim her arm so she could run for her life. Every person she and Adam blew past seemed to be sizing her up, one by one. She could almost hear their heinous, mean spirited thoughts. She made eye contact with nearly every person that she passed, none of them friendly. As she and Adam came closer to the director, who was now standing from his chair and staring at her as well, she resisted him more.
Adam turned back to her, giving her a look of death. “What is wrong with you? Come here.”
The director, a balding man with a handsome face and bright eyes, removed his large headpiece and looked Shaun up and down before turning to Adam. “‘Dis is ‘jour model?” The director asked in a deep Colombian accent, motioning to Shaun with a raised eyebrow and curled lip.
Adam put an arm around Shaun’s shoulder until she was by his side, shaking her like she was a football buddy and not his stand-in girlfriend. He gazed into her eyes as he spoke. “This is her, yep. Shaun this is Zizo Perez. He’s one of the most famous directors in the world.” Adam and Zizo waited for any reaction, but all they were met with was Shaun’s stunned face.
Adam couldn’t make sense of the naked distress he read in her eyes, and brought his voice down to a whisper when he realized she couldn’t even bring herself to look at Zizo, let alone speak to him. He began speaking exclusively to her. “The model who was supposed to star in the video backed out at the last minute…”
Shaun’s mouth went dry as her eyes searched Adams.
Adam nodded, attempting to relax her. “You’re the star now. This is gonna be epic. You’ll be on a runway in no time after this…” He waited for her ecstatic response and when it never came, he shook his head. This girl was something else. She was sharp, but at the same time so incredibly green. She was hard to figure out. “Be excited.”
Shaun wondered if she could throw up right there without anyone noticing, and though she wasn’t looking around, she’d already mapped out at least five different ways to escape this nightmare the second Adam turned his back. Looking up at him in that moment, as much as she hated the things she’d learned about him the night before and as terrified as she was, she couldn’t help but feel warm. Sure, she wasn’t really a model, and though the thought of being the female lead in a music video made her physically ill, she couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Adam had thought of her. Plus if she stood any chance of pulling off this whole ordeal, she couldn’t make him suspicious in any way.
“I am excited,” she said, attempting to smile.
“Yeah? Because you look…” He tilted his head. “Kinda sick.”
Shaun waved a nonchalant hand, and quickly hid it behind her back when she saw it was shaking wildly. “No, I’m good. Just a little surprised that I was the first one you called.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? You’re my girl…” He said the word with a slight hitch that only made sense to the two of them, tightening his football hold around her neck. “And guys do favors for their girls, right? Don’t go getting all misty eyed on me.”
“What happened to the original model you hired?”
“Irrelevant,” he answered quickly.
Shaun glared. She’d spent the better part of the night Googling him and had learned that he was nothing if not a ladies man. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Adam’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but Shaun caught it.
“You slept with her and then called her ‘Sally’ when her name is actually ‘Sue’--or just plain didn’t call her at all. Am I right?”
Adam held her glare. Had she been Googling him all night? “Irrelevant,” he whispered.
Zizo chimed in, skeptically. “And which agency you work for?”
Shaun and Adam’s heads both snapped over, appearing to have forgotten Zizo had been there at all. Shaun looked down at their feet and wondered when during their exchange they’d come face to face with each other. Turning to Zizo, she crossed her arms over her chest. His disapproval of her was blatant and made her instantly uncomfortable.
“Uh… Wilhelmina Models,” she announced.
“And why do I never heard of you?”
Shaun opened her mouth to lie but was surprised when Adam beat her to the punch. “Is there a problem or what?”
Her eyes flew to Adam in surprise. The protectiveness in his tone had caught her off guard and the once playful arm he’d had around her shoulder was now holding her a little tighter, closer, as if to shield her. Shaun found herself staring up into his angry face, his eyes still riveted challengingly to the director, even as someone came up beside her and took her arm. With hesitation, she looked to the person who was gently tugging her and couldn’t help but smile up at the flamboyant blonde man attempting to pull her away from the fire. He had kind brown eyes, a platinum faux-hawk and a face full of flawlessly applied make-up.
“Hey sugar, I’m Max, the hair and make-up artist. Follow me and we’ll make you beautiful.”
“Okay…” Shaun said, happy to allow herself to be pulled away by the only smiling face in the vicinity. As she followed Max to the line of trailers parked along the far ends of the lot she turned back to Adam. He and Zizo were arguing and she knew it was about her. Feeling terrified and rejected, she already wished she had just stayed home.
--
Adam’s three band mates looked on from their stools as he and Zizo went head to head. Shaun was long gone, having been thankfully dragged away by the colorful make-up artist.
“What’s your problem with Shaun, Zizo? She’s a professional, she’s contracted at Wilhelmina, she’s beautiful.”
Jon Baca, The White Keys’ guitarist and Adam’s oldest and dearest friend, looked up—brought to full attention at the sound of Adam using the word “beautiful” to describe any woman, let alone the woman he’d just dragged onto the lot.
“What more do you want?” Adam held his arms out. “What? Is it just because she’s black?”
Zach Kernoodle and Yoshi Cho, bass player and drummer, both stood from their folding chairs and inched a little closer to Adam and Zizo, sensing that this interaction probably wasn’t going anyplace good.
Zizo threw his head back with a cringe. “Ay, is not because she’s black… is because she come to my set with hair messy, eyes puffy, wearing sweatpants? Sweatpants!”
Adam eased back, chewing his gum wildly. Looking off towards the make-up trailer in distress, he ran a hand down the back of his head. “All right, okay.” He held his hands out in peace. “Maybe I just overreacted.”
“Maybe?” Jon grumbled from behind Adam, throwing his shoulder length, curly brown hair out of his eyes and turning away when his friend looked at him with a death glare.
“You got some big hairy ones to call anyone out for being a racist dude,” Zach said, with a scoff. “Pot, please meet kettle. Seriously bro.”
Adam hissed before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking off. He made it about five feet before turning back to his band mates and stomping toward them. “I’m not racist and I know I’m an asshole for what I said in that interview. Please believe no one on the fucking planet has made that more clear to me than the girl in sweatpants sitting in that make-up trailer. So if anyone on this lot is allowed to give me shit it’s…” Adam’s words dragged to a stop when he realized that not only were none of his band mates listening to his rant, but they were all entranced by something over his shoulder. Turning his head, he took in the sight, looked away, then looked quickly back. The anger on his face collapsed into pure shock.
Shaun was strutting towards them in a skin tight red mini-dress, the bright fabric making her brown skin glisten and leap out dramatically. With every step she took the muscles in her legs flexed ever so softly, giving them an air of strength and femininity. Breasts th
at she’d mastered hiding away sat perfect and plump at the top of the swooping sweetheart neckline and, as she walked, she tugged at the bottom of her dress, eyes riveted to Adam. It was the eyes that got him—that held him. To the casual observer Shaun’s orbs looked dark brown, almost black, but the shadow on her lids was so smoky and deep that it made the secret of her bronzed brown eyes jump out and wrap around his neck, claiming him. A small smile touched her red lips as she tossed her flat ironed hair out of her face. It fanned around her curvy body like a jet black wave before coming to a luscious rest at the delicate curve of her waist.
“Holy shit.” Adam’s eyes fell from her head to her feet, and back up, again.
Shaun’s face curled in horror when she tripped over the heels Max had insisted she wear, successfully tumbling and falling oafishly into the chest of a man she’d never met. She jammed her eyes shut and laughed at herself as she stood tall, using the man’s arms to steady herself. Looking up into his almond eyes, she smiled, and he smiled back, making his eyes shrink and highlight his Asian descent.
He clutched her arms. “Hi. I’m Yoshi. Drummer.”
Shaun nodded, still leaning on him breathlessly, before motioning to herself. “Hi. I’m Shaun. Liability.”
Yoshi laughed.
“Thanks for catching me.” She looked at Adam. “Was that a good ‘holy shit’ or a bad ‘holy shit’?”
Adam opened his mouth to answer, his eyes still roaming her body. He couldn’t speak.
Zizo, having gotten deeply engaged in a conversation with the lighting tech, turned to Shaun, took her in, and threw his arms up in the air. “Oh thank god!” he cried, kissing the tips of his fingers and approaching her before taking both of her shoulders in his hands and nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes, you will do. This will do. Ay dios mio,” he exhaled, hurrying back to his chair. “Okay people we are back in business… let’s go, let’s go!”
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