by Karen Leabo
The older man gave a short, soundless laugh and sent the two boys back to their jobs with a quick jerk of his thumb. Another wink and he turned back to his job.
Suzy headed on, the quick tap of her heels unheard amid the noise. She carefully avoided the conveyor lines of cartons, the stacks of flour and sugar sacks leaning against each other on metal pallets, and the sudden, startling advance of the fork-lifts. A pretty young woman, her ponytail sticking out from beneath her hard hat, zipped by in a little go-cart, its back loaded with boxes labeled Kevin’s Kookies. Someday, Suzy wondered, would her picture be on that label? On billboards? On nationwide TV screens during the commercial break for The Cosby Show? Oh, yes, she thought; grinning. Yes, yes, yes! She could feel it. Today was her lucky day.…
Or would be, she added, groaning as she slowed to a halt, if she could only get to this interview!
The entire back wall of the warehouse was covered with doors. Wide ones, narrow ones, all unlabeled!
“This is not fair,” Suzy muttered aloud. She pushed back her thick hair, which now curled rebelliously against the nape of her neck from an uncontrollable flush of nervousness. The start of a headache fluttered just above her eyes. Clutching her portfolio tightly, she marched over to the nearest workman.
“Excuse me,” she said, letting out a sigh of ill-concealed exasperation, “but could you please tell me which is Mr. Ross’s office?”
The fellow continued to shift flour sacks from one table to another.
Suzy cleared her throat, raised her voice, and just about yelled, “Pardon me, but where is Mr. Ross’s office?”
He didn’t budge.
She put a hand lightly on his arm. He turned and dusted the front of her dress and her nose with a good helping of flour.
Suzy’s eyes shot wide open, then she burst into surprised laughter. And when the workman, already blushing, dazzled, and wide-eyed, started to brush off the front of her, she collapsed into giggles.
“That’s all right, really, I’ll get it,” she said. “If you could just please tell me where Mr. Ross’s office is …”
He sent flour flying in a dusty arc toward the door at the far left.
“You’re sure?” she teased, making his blush deepen.
He nodded, shy and silent, but as she walked away he gave a piercing, if off-key, wolf whistle.
Suzy gulped. Even with the blast of noise at her back, there was no missing that sharp signal of sexual approval. Now her own cheeks were flaming, but there was no turning back. With the flat of one hand she tried to brush away the comet’s trail of flour across her breasts. White flour on sapphire silk … it was hopeless! She rubbed the tip of her nose, gazed ruefully at the unmarked door in front of her, and gave it three good hard raps.
Was that a “come in” she heard? Who could tell? “Well, here goes everything!” she whispered, and stepped into the office.
“Hello!” she said loudly. “Mr. Ross, I’m Suzy Keller and I’m here for the interview—”
Her voice echoed around the quiet, beautifully paneled office.
“Oh, goodness,” she whispered, her blush spreading downward across her throat and breasts. For a moment she closed her eyes, wishing she could start this day over.
The two men in the office stood mesmerized.
One was a handsome blond in a suit and tie standing just behind the desk. The other was taller, darker, broader, compelling even in jeans and a T-shirt as he leaned against the wall.
But it was the blond who broke the silence and drew Suzy’s attention. “Ms. Keller? We weren’t expecting you until Monday. Your agency called to postpone—”
“Oh, they weren’t supposed to! I decided to come out on my own, and now I’m probably interrupting something important, but, Mr. Ross, I was just afraid someone else would show up for the interview today and you’d hire her and I really think I am perfect for this job. I know I am! Here.” She quickly placed her leather folder on the desk before him and slipped out a breathtaking series of eight by ten glossies. “If you’ll just take a look at my portfolio—”
The blond’s brows jumped in appreciation but his voice was steady. “Whoa! Ms. Keller, I would love to look at your portfolio! I’d even like to borrow it for a day … or a week. But you may rescind the offer when I tell you I am not Mr. Ross. I’m Mike Pepper, and I’m yours if you ever need a lawyer. But this”—he pointed across the room—“this lucky fella is Kevin Ross.”
Suzy turned her emerald gaze to the silent man in the corner and, as her eyes met his, her heart took a quick little leap up to her throat and then down to her toes. He was gorgeous. Not pretty like the men she was often paired with in the ads, not even like those at the endless parties and dinners she attended at her agent’s insistence. But solid. Dark and solid and strong-looking, with thick black hair over deep dark eyes. Straight, determined brows and the start of worry lines around his eyes and at the sides of his mouth. A beautiful mouth, which even as she stared lifted into a wide, easy grin.
The grin startled her, teased her, and she began talking again, just to cover her surprise. “Mr. Ross, I’m so glad to meet you. And I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but as I said, I really think I would do a terrific job as the Kevin’s Kookies girl. I’ve done many food commercials before—breakfast cereal, hot dogs, even tortillas. Here, would you like to see my portfolio?” She took a quick step toward him and thrust the pictures into his hands, aware of the brush of her fingertips against his, feeling suddenly dizzy and giddy and happy.
“And, Mr. Ross,” she went on hurriedly, “I know I should let my agent tell you all these good things about me, but since she’s not here, I’ll just mention that I’m very versatile, and can appeal to the family audience as well as present a more sophisticated image, and even appear quite a number of years younger—or older!—if your marketing campaign should require that. See?” In one quick gesture she pushed her heavy bangs back off her face and caught the fiery sweep of her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. She smiled up into his dark eyes.
His smile broadened but, unaccountably, hers wobbled just the tiniest bit.
Nerves, she chided herself silently. Calm down! Just be confident, poised.… You’ve done this all before! “I think you would be pleased, Mr. Ross, with both my publicity photos and my tapings … as well as any personal appearances the job might require. And …” She paused, praying that he would say something, anything, but he seemed to be enjoying himself too darn much, so she rushed on, undaunted. “And if you would like to see any particular walk or stance …?” Still talking, she turned and began to circle the room, moving with the languid grace of long practice.
Mike Pepper’s laugh cut her short. “Whoa again! Here, sit down. Take it easy.” He pulled the chair out from behind the desk. “Now, go on and tell him everything you want, but you’ve got to face him. Kevin’s deaf.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise as they shot from Mike to Kevin, then back again. Her voice softened in awe. “I can’t believe it. He’s done all this and he’s deaf?” Admiration shone like a clear light that she turned on Kevin’s face.
Caught by her gaze, it was Kevin’s turn to blush and he did, a dark, handsome flush that Suzy knew didn’t stop at the top of his T-shirt. Oh, he had beautiful shoulders. And a strong, broad chest. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just … Well, I think you must be quite amazing. This is a big business you’ve built here, single-handedly … or so my agent said. And—” Her hand flew to her mouth in sudden comprehension. “And all your employees are deaf also! That explains the flying carton … and my run-in with the flour sack!” She touched her fingertips absentmindedly to the front of her dress, her concentration locked on the man in front of her. “Amazing.” Then she realized she was staring and felt the blood rise to her cheeks. She straightened her skirt and settled her hands demurely in her lap. “I mean, Mr. Ross, you’re much different than I expected for a man of y
our accomplishments.”
His laugh was low and husky and exciting.
Suzy’s face relaxed into a charming smile. “I want you to know I practiced that line … or at least something like it! You … you’re reading my lips, aren’t you? Oh, my. Do I look all right?”
“Fantastic!” he signed, throwing both hands up, palms pulsing out twice, as if in wonder.
“I understood that!” she said excitedly, leaning forward in her chair. “That means wonderful, great … right?”
He nodded, smiling, his gaze playing lightly across her face.
“See? I told you I was perfect for this job. A girlfriend of mine in high school was deaf, and she taught me sign language. Look: I know how to sign,” she said in slow, rusty signs. “Not ‘fantastic.’ ” She laughed, mimicking his earlier sign. “But a little … a start! Right?”
Grinning, Kevin nodded. What else could he do? She was so damned positive, and optimistic … and charming. She was irresistible.
The thought caused him a low stirring of discomfort. For just a second longer he let himself wonder what it would be like … Like magic? Like a dream? Then his grin faded and he crossed his arms firmly over his chest. Watch out. Ross, he told himself. Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned!
“Mike,” he signed in sharp, blunt gestures. “Tell her what I say. Tell her thank you for coming, and we’ll be sure to let her know. But tell her I—I had another look in mind. Something more ordinary. Ponytail and a T-shirt. Girl-next-door kind of thing—”
“But I was the girl next door!” Suzy interrupted, her temper rising with her disappointment. “Right next door to Harry Wilson. Right on Elm Street. Backyard swings and barbecues. Baseball games on the vacant lot on the corner. Lemonade stands. I can do it! Really. I’ll be any look you want me to be.”
Kevin felt his resolve weaken. She was so spirited, so full of pluck and determination and honesty. Those were feelings he sure as hell could identify with, and yet—
But before he could say or do anything, a light flashed over the door. Saved by the bell! he thought.
The welcome interruption was the kind of problem he had no trouble dealing with: a jammed conveyor belt and an angry foreman. Mike followed Kevin out the door with a quick “Excuse us. Emergency—” and Suzy was left alone in the office.
She wasn’t going to get the job. She knew it. She could always tell, just as she could always tell which pose a client would select, or which photographer would give her a bad time. Model’s instinct. She was loaded with instinct for this business, born with it as surely as with her blaze of red hair and wide green eyes. That’s what had made it all so easy, why it was her they picked and not the other two-year-olds, and ten-year-olds, and twelve-year-olds when her mother dragged her from agency to agency, from job to job. It was why her mother did the dragging, so sure Suzy would be a star. Another Suzy Parker, her mother believed with the unshakable faith of Moses.
But Suzy was not going to get this job.
“And I want this job,” she grumbled softly, setting her hands on her hips. She nibbled unhappily on her lower lip as she thought of the nationwide magazine campaign, the prime-time TV spots, the thousands, no … maybe hundreds of thousands of cookie boxes on hundreds of thousands of grocery store shelves.
Not to mention that man. If she didn’t get the job, she’d never see him again.
“Hmmm …” She narrowed her eyes, thinking, warming to the problem. For a moment she had had him. For a moment she had perfectly matched the fantasy in his head. Or better, she had awoken a fantasy he hadn’t even admitted to himself. She had seen it in those smoke-dark eyes: a gleam, a spark! She had seen the muscles jump along the hard lines of his jaw. Then good old reason, or caution, or guardedness had intervened.
And there went her chance at being the Kevin’s Kookies girl.
Well, the show wasn’t over until the curtain fell, she decided with a sudden flash of determination. Pacing the thickly carpeted floor, she did a quick run-through of the contents of the office. And there on a shelf was just what she was looking for. T-shirts. White, black, red, yellow, blue … all emblazoned with Kevin’s logo. Without a moment’s hesitation she slipped out of her dress, folded it across the back of his chair, then placed her slip on top of it. The air-conditioning made goose bumps rise along her arms and down the long, silky curve of her back. Her nipples puckered. Quickly she tugged a T-shirt off its pile, one as red as an apple for the teacher or a teenager’s blush. If Kevin Ross wanted the girl next door, that’s just what she’d give him! A ponytail? Fine! Dropping the T-shirt for the moment, she rummaged in her purse and found her hairbrush. A few vigorous strokes and her hair was waving happily in her hand, as perky a tail as anyone could wish for, the few loose ends curling at her neck with independent energy. Now, she thought, a rubber band …? There was one, holding snug a roll of papers on his desk. She set a paperweight on top of the curling sheets, snapped the rubber band into place, and fluffed her bangs. Then she picked up the T-shirt again and began to put it on. She was just pulling the lower edge down over her breasts when the door opened and Kevin stepped inside.
He saw the ripe curve of her breast, the golden plane of her abdomen, her baby blue bikini bottoms strung across perfect hips, and the lovely length of her legs. “Oh, Lord …” he breathed, and this time she read his lips.
Kevin slammed the door shut and leaned back against it, his broad chest rising and falling, his hands clenched.
Suzy didn’t know if he was guarding the door in boyish shock or out of some gallant notion of chivalry. But it didn’t matter. It tickled her, she who was so completely comfortable in her body, so used to its lines and shape and texture that she took it completely for granted. And the people she worked with also took it for granted, interested in her beauty only as far as it suited their shampoo, their clothes, their luggage.
“It’s all right,” she said easily, smoothing the hem of the cotton T-shirt down across the tops of her thighs. “Please don’t be embarrassed—”
“Embarrassed?” he signed, not caring if she understood or not. He strode forward, still signing. “This is my office, not a dressing room. I’m not embarrassed. I’m furious!”
That she understood!
“But, Mr. Ross, I—”
“What?” he challenged her with infuriating coolness.
Suzy stepped right up to him, toe to toe, so close that her breasts almost touched his chest. Her bangs brushed his chin as she looked up at him.
“Mr. Ross, I want this job. I’d be the perfect Kevin’s Kookies girl and I know it. And you know it! And you’re not going to scare me away, and now you know that too! I apologize for changing in your office, but if I had asked, if I had explained, you would have told Mr. Pepper to tell me to get lost—”
“Now, wait—”
“Oh, not like that, of course.” She waved away his objection, ignoring the gathering thunder of his frown. “You would have been quite polite, but it would have ended up the same way. And it would be a mistake. Your mistake. So really …” She spaced her words out, letting her mischievous smile shine through. “I’m only looking out for your best interests.”
Humor flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. “Thank you very much,” he signed, taking a step back to open some space between them. But it was just a small step, a small space, close enough for him to smell the sweetness of her breath, her subtle perfume. “So, you think you’re the one for this job?”
Her gaze flew from his hands to her face. “Yes!”
“I think you’re going to be a lot of trouble, Ms. Keller.”
“But I am worth it, Mr. Ross!”
He lifted one dark brow in mock disbelief, but a small still voice in his heart told him she was right. The question was, was he prepared to pay the price?
For less than a second he glanced around his familiar office, but it was changed already. From now until forever he would see the image of her tugging his T-shirt down over he
r lithe, golden body, her clothes tossed over his chair. He didn’t know if he was lucky … or damned.
“All right,” he said in surrender. “The job is yours. You will be my Kevin’s Kookies girl.”
“Wonderful decision!” Suzy grinned, wishing she had a cap to fling in the air. Instead, she hugged herself tightly, feeling happiness bubble like champagne in her veins. “Oh, we’ll be great together, wait and see!” She did a little dancing step toward her clothes, then turned back to Kevin. “I have just one more question: Why didn’t you ask for a model who could sign?”
Kevin laughed. “And just how many do you think there are?”
“Just one!” She smiled. “And you’ve got her! Kismet!”
