by Lexie Ray
She smiled at him. “That I might actually be able to use you.”
***
Even with his sunglasses, the vast shift between the glaring sun and the shadowed building messed with Dwayne’s eyes. Ever since the accident, his night vision had been shot to hell. He had gotten used to how much longer it took him to adjust. He had learned to take a quick check of his surroundings before the momentary blackouts, but it still put him on edge. During the day, it wasn’t too bad, but driving at night was no longer an option.
He draped an arm over Andrea’s shoulders as they headed into the building, just to make sure that he didn’t lose track of her during his own personal blackout. Andrea elbowed him in the ribs, seemingly content with his grunt of pain because she didn’t make him remove his arm.
The hotel was still open for business while the show was in swing. Tourists mingled with people in suits and others so tall that they had to be models. Preparations were underway, and it made the foyer bustle with activity. The clusters of noise each drew Dwayne’s attention, whether he liked it or not. Thankfully, his sight was back to normal by the time they reached the elevators, and the distractions were less consuming. But by then he was pretty comfy, so he didn’t bother to move his arm away.
Andrea hit the button and brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. It tickled against his forearm as it released a hint of flowers. He couldn’t pinpoint what kind of flower and figured that it would be weird if he took another sniff. So, they just stood in silence as they waited for the doors to open.
Dwayne had never really been good with silences. It always seemed like someone should be saying or doing something. But with Andrea, it was less awkward. He glanced down at her, watching as she pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head. She shifted her portfolio file between her hands and looked up to meet his gaze.
“What?” she asked as her eyebrows rose.
“Oh, I’m so tempted to throw that cryptic line about ‘using you’ right back at ya,” Dwayne laughed. “Would that be crossing a line? Grey area? Come on, help me out. The more time that passes, the less witty it will seem.”
“Time’s already run out,” Andrea said.
The elevator doors pinged and whooshed open.
“Are you sure?” Dwayne asked as he followed her in. “I think I’ve still got some time left.”
She checked her watch. “No, sorry. It would just be cheesy and dated now.”
“Well, that sucks.”
A happy tune played over the elevator’s speaker system. It was soft and reduced down to the most basic, one instrument rendition, but it didn’t take Dwayne more than half a second to recognize the tune: Rupert Holmes’ ‘Escape.’
“Do you like piña coladas?” he sang to himself quietly. Even though he practically whispered, it drew the attention of the few scattered people in the elevator. They must have ears like bats. “And getting caught in the rain.”
“Sorry,” Andrea muttered to the person standing on her other side. “He’s new.”
“Come on, don’t be shy,” Dwayne said at the same time. “I can’t be the only one to know the lines.” The song got to the best bit and he sang with appropriate enthusiasm. “If you love making love at midnight, in the dunes of the cape.”
Andrea stared straight ahead, shoulders tense, jaw clenching even as she hummed out, “I’m the love that you looked for. Write to me, and escape.”
Dwayne spun to face her, letting every inch of delight and surprise show on his face. She refused to acknowledge him. They were still like that when the doors opened again and the people began to flood out. They got a few odd looks and passing glances, but he didn’t pay any attention. Andrea was way too fascinating to go spreading his focus about.
“You should close your mouth,” Andrea said as she strode forward.
“Too happy.”
Shaking her head, she tried not to look at him as they approached Mads. He let her know each time she slipped by widening his grin. It was good they reached Mads when they did, because his jaw was starting to hurt. Mads’ warm smile dwindled into a sigh when he looked between the two of them.
“What did he do?”
“Why do you assume it was me?” Dwayne asked. “I mean, apart from logic and previous knowledge of my personality and behavior. Side note: I didn’t do anything. I’ve been downright charming.”
“He just sang in the elevator. There were a few other designers and photographers on board.”
Mads’ lips quirked. “He didn’t dance? That’s an improvement.”
“Everyone loves ‘The Hustle,’ Mads,” Dwayne droned.
They had been having this argument for years, and his boss still stubbornly refused to acknowledge the truth. Andrea glanced at him but didn’t ask any follow-up questions.
“Is Jamie here?”
“He’s acquainting himself with the building’s layout.” Mads turned to Dwayne. “I take it you learned about the employees?”
Dwayne nodded. “We even had time to go over the guest list. I’ll give Jamie the Cliff’s Notes when we meet up.”
“I told you stuff once, and you barely paid any attention,” Andrea said.
“Luckily, I’m a genius.”
Mads cut in. “He does have a rather impressive memory.”
“Mads, you’re going to make me blush.”
Andrea chose to ignore him as she continued. “I’ll need to do the fitting first and then a test set later today. It’ll be a few hours.”
“Take your time,” Mads said. “I have no need for them today.”
“I feel like the spark is gone out of our relationship,” Dwayne said.
Mads slowly closed his eyes and took a soothing breath. It was fun to push his buttons. Trying to provoke some kind of emotion out of the man was a pretty enjoyable way to pass the time, even if Dwayne had yet to really win a round. The most he had managed to get was a sigh or a sideways glare.
Dwayne often wondered what an enraged Mads would look like. Probably slightly impolite. He might even go without coasters.
“Andrea, what have you brought in?”
They all turned in unison to watch as someone peeled away from the crowd and stalked toward them. He was dressed like a stylish man attempting to look casual. Why did that always include scarves?
“That’s Justin,” Dwayne whispered to Mads.
Mads glanced at him. Being told things he obviously knew was one of Mads’ pet peeves, but it wasn’t enough to provoke a response. All Dwayne got was a small smile. One that told him loud and clear and conveyed that Mads knew exactly what he was up to. Damn. Guess the game was done for the day. At least he still had Jamie.
Justin came straight up to Mads and looked him over head to toe, eyes critical but not disapproving.
“Have we met before?” Justin asked.
“Not officially, but you do look familiar.”
Justin smirked. “I would definitely remember that accent. European?”
“Yes.”
Justin’s smile grew as he shook Mads’ hand, and the men made their formal introductions. Dwayne used the distraction to lean down and whisper to Andrea.
“Why is he so proud of that guess? Europe is huge.”
“Not now,” Andrea whispered back.
“He pinpointed nothing.”
The accusation in his tone was enough to get a reaction. She bit her lip. It smothered the sound of her laughter, but her shoulders still shook slightly. The movement drew Justin’s attention.
“You, I have never seen before,” he announced as he gave Dwayne the same scrutiny he had Mads.
It was a completely unashamed evaluation of every last inch of Dwayne’s body. He could almost hear Justin mentally marking off all the points that needed improvement. It was creepy and, in Dwayne’s humble option, an open invitation to mess with the creep. So, he put his weight on his back foot, hand on his hip, and mimicked Justin’s obvious and dismissing appraisal.
“Oh, you would rememb
er me, baby boy.”
Justin finally met his eyes. “I’m straight.”
“That’s an odd thing to say,” Dwayne noted.
Justin’s mouth thinned as he bit his lip. “You think it’s odd that a male fashion designer is straight?”
“I just normally exchange names before I start telling people my sexual orientation. What can I say? I like to keep a hint of mystery about myself.”
“This is Dwayne,” Andrea said.
“And the mystery is gone.”
She ignored the outburst and continued. “He’s a last-minute addition to my lineup.”
“Him?” Justine smirked and looked Dwayne over again. “For a runway?”
“I think he’ll grab some attention,” Andrea said.
“Because I’m hot as hell.” Dwayne put a hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish your sentence.”
“You didn’t.”
“I know that was exactly what you were going to say.”
“It really wasn’t.”
“Word for word.” Dwayne emphasized each word with confidence.
Justin laughed. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sound. “He seems like a perfect model. Very professional.”
“Thank you,” Dwayne said.
“I obviously wasn’t being serious,” Justin snapped.
“I obviously don’t care,” Dwayne said, a bright grin firmly in place.
Justin’s eyes narrowed. The simmering anger on his face didn’t last long. The second he spotted Jamie, that layer of frustration was quickly replaced with fascination. Placing the back of his hand against Dwayne’s stomach, he pushed him out of the way so he could examine Jamie without interruption.
“Are you looking for someone?” Justin asked with forced sweetness.
Jamie didn’t flinch. “I’ve just found her. Thanks anyway. Morning, Andrea.”
“Morning, Jamie.”
“Jamie?” Justin purred in a way that gave Dwayne the creeps. For a split second, Jamie glanced to Dwayne, and he knew the shorter man had the same reaction. There was just something predatory in the sound. “Nice to meet you. I’m Justin Delong; you might have heard of me. My new line is coming out in a few days, and I can’t seem to keep the magazines from the door.”
Jamie nodded. “I’ve heard of you.”
Justin shoulder-shoved past Dwayne, his eyes still trailing over Jamie’s body.
“You must be a model.”
“He’s going to be in my showcase,” Andrea said.
There was a warning in her tone. Dwayne realized with a spark of interest that the two designers were marking their territory.
“Yours? What are you thinking? Your designs aren’t a good match for his physique.” Justin waved the idea off as he moved closer to Jamie. “You’re a new model, aren’t you? A little advice. The shows you star in now can make or break your career. You want to be careful. You need a designer that knows how to properly showcase your finer assets.”
“Are you actually trying to poach my model in front of me?” Andrea cut in.
“And more importantly,” Dwayne snapped, “why aren’t you poaching me?”
“Because you look like the love child of a beach dwelling steroid addict and the strange man you see at farmer’s markets ranting about the benefits of crystal deodorant.”
“Surfing is fun, and farmer’s markets cut down on pollution and costs associated with shipping,” Dwayne defended.
Justin somehow managed to roll his eyes and keep his attention focused on Jamie at the same time.
Justin edged closer. “Seriously–”
“It’s flattering, but I’ve already made a commitment to Andrea,” Jamie cut in.
“Plus, her designs are awesome.” Dwayne lowered his voice to a whisper as he turned to Justin. “I’ve seen a few of your leaked ones. Weird and revolutionary aren’t the same thing.”
Justin whirled on him. “Who do you think you are?”
“Dwayne Kingston. You can call me King if you want.”
“Please don’t,” Mads said.
“Designers talk to each other. It’s not exactly smart for you to insult one of us.”
A broad smile crossed Dwayne’s face. “Is that a threat? Are you threatening my career because I gave your feelings a booboo?”
Andrea pushed against Dwayne’s side, ushering him down the hall as Mads and Jamie followed. Dwayne couldn’t resist spreading his arms wide in the universal ‘come at me, bro’ gesture.
“Was that necessary?” Andrea hissed under her breath.
“If he’s the guy, we want his attention focused on me and my rock-hard abs,” Dwayne said. Walking backward, he met Justin’s eyes and gave him a wink, making it as lewd as possible since that was obviously a bright red button in need of being smashed.
“Dwayne,” Mads warned.
“You always ruin my fun,” Dwayne pouted.
“I can assure you that your prank wars only amuse you.”
“That’s not true. Jamie always gets a laugh out of them.”
Jamie shrugged. “Everyone has a hobby.”
Mads had perfected the ‘I’m not angry, just disappointed’ look and wasn’t shy about using it.
Chapter Six
It shouldn’t have surprised Andrea that Dwayne was completely comfortable being near-naked in a room full of people. What had caught her off guard was that Jamie had nearly the same level of complete disregard. The boys stood completely still, refusing to leave the positions she had placed them in, and continued to have a conversation as if there weren’t a dozen people fussing about their bodies.
As hard as she tried to remember, she often forgot that her models were real, living people and not life-sized dolls. It was a bad habit, one that she was trying to break, but when she set herself to a task, everything else just sort of faded away. With the boys, however, every time she remembered to check on them, ready to try and soothe any bruised egos, she was met with the same reaction. Dwayne would scoff and throw a smirk in Jamie’s direction. At least one of them would mutter that it ‘wasn’t any worse than Basic Training.’
What the hell were they doing to them in Basic Training?
Occasionally, her other models would come by. The boys were a curiosity, and everyone was interested to finally see the men Andrea had been talking about for so long. All the interviews had been conducted by phone, so there was little left for them to discuss. They knew all about the strange letters and threatening voicemails.
Since they had last been updated, a bouquet of dead roses had shown up, which both sickened and enraged Andrea. It was one thing to terrorize her and her workers. But it just seemed that much more insulting that they didn’t even bother to put much creative effort into it.
The introductions did put her mind at ease, however. In all, she had twenty models in her show. Whether the models went to Dwayne, Mads, or Jamie, the men just needed to hear their voices to recall even the most insignificant details of their conversations.
However Dwayne might present himself, Andrea felt reassured of their dedication. They truly wanted to help. They were just as invested as they rest of them. And that solidarity eased a pain Andrea hadn’t known she had been feeling.
Perhaps the biggest surprise was the little slither of annoyance she felt at how easily Dwayne took to the whole situation. She didn’t know why she wanted Dwayne to be shy or off-kilter. She just knew that there was a little spot within her head that grumbled each time he laughed and joked around with whomever would listen to him.
Pushing the sensation aside, she took a moment to fully take in Jamie and Dwayne’s forms. Jamie was more streamlined, broad in his chest but with far less bulk. His muscles were defined but not chiseled. His legs were strong and long without overshadowing the rest of his physical form. In all, he was the perfect model. He had a few scars on his back – thin strips of white along his tanned skin.
His feet were another matter. Deep scars twisted around the tops but were more n
oticeable on the balls of his feet as he walked. She was curious but didn’t think that she was in any position to ask him about it.
In the better light, the minor imperfections on Dwayne’s skin were slightly more obvious. Small, barely noticeable scars littered across his left side, and she wondered if he had gotten them all at the same time. She made a mental note to ask him about it later and turned her attention back to her work.
Everything she wanted Dwayne to wear would need massive alterations; that was putting it nicely. It was more likely that they would have to make the items from scratch, and everyone knew it. While annoyance flittered through her small group, Andrea found herself surprisingly happy about the extra work. Since she hadn’t built her name just yet, her first line wasn’t so much about her vision as it was about appeasing her investors. Now she had a chance to focus on creating again, and it let everything else fade away – the stress, the fear, the nagging worry.
Holding three pins with her teeth, she knelt down and began to readjust the cuffs of the pant legs. It took a few tries to get the demo pants just right and, of course, it didn’t take long for Dwayne’s attention to fix back onto her.
“Psst,” he whispered. It was completely impossible for him to get her attention without drawing the attention of everyone else present, but he still tried. “Psst, Cupcake. Up here.”
There was an art to talking while holding pins between your teeth, one that she had mastered years ago. “What do you want, Dwayne?”
“You’re into style and stuff, right?”
She bit a little harder on the pins and tried very hard not to smile. “The ‘stuff’ especially.”
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Dwayne,” Jamie huffed.
“I think it will look cool, and Andrea will agree with me.”
“I’m not contesting the merits of tattoos. I’m just saying you don’t need a damn crown.”
“But I am the king!” He lifted his arm like he was making a royal proclamation.
The person working on his shirtsleeve was quick to remind him to be still, and Dwayne resumed his potion with a few whispered apologies.
Jamie released a long-suffering sigh. “No one calls you that.”
