“That’s Veronica?” I asked confused, handing the picture to Mika. I tried desperately to recall the photos that had come out during the height of Veronica’s disappearance. Why had I never noticed how incredibly alike they had looked? Perhaps my lack of interest led me to simply believe that all of the media photos had been of Carmen rather than her dead friend?
Carmen nodded sadly. “I was only a suspect until I showed the police that photo. Once they saw it, they theorized that maybe someone had mistaken Veronica for me.”
“They think that someone was trying to kill you,” Mika concluded softly, gazing down at the photo.
“You say that like it narrows down the field,” I muttered.
Mika stifled a chuckle while Carmen puffed with anger. “Excuse me?” she snapped, spinning towards me. She placed one hand on her hip. Her face grew darker with each second that passed. “What are you saying exactly?”
“That you’re not exactly a box of sunshine,” I retorted. “I’ve interacted with you for all of,” I checked my watch, “63 minutes and, frankly, I’ve imagined shoving you off the balcony more times than I’d like to admit.” Carmen gasped, clutching her hands to her breasts. “I wouldn’t do it, of course, but I’m sure plenty of people wouldn’t have the same courtesy.” Carmen stood, slack-jawed. I’d rendered her speechless. Good. James and Mika sat tense, probably wondering if they were going to have to dive between us. Not that they’d mind, I was sure. I continued to stare at Carmen, daring her to say something but she just opened and closed her mouth, uttering odd noises now and again.
It was Mika who finally broke the silence. He stood and, reaching out an arm to help me off the couch, began leading me towards the elevator. “James and I will start working on this right away,” he assured Carmen. “But right now, I’m sure you want to get ready for the photo shoot with Marian. When was that again?” He turned to me for an answer.
“3 o’clock,” I called over my shoulder as I walked out of the room. Actually, it was 4, but I had a feeling that Carmen was the type to make people wait. I had no intention of waiting for anyone today — least of all Carmen Suarez.
“James?” Mika called. James glanced uneasily from Carmen to Mika and back to Carmen. Warily, he patted Carmen awkwardly on the arm before sliding past her. “I’ll call,” he promised her quietly. Our shoes squeaked loudly against the marble flooring, my sneakers the loudest of all. The elevator dinged open pleasantly. James inserted his room key above the buttons and pressed the “L,” which illuminated with an intense urgency. The elevator doors whooshed closed and my last view of Carmen was of her frozen in place next to the coffee table, watching us disappear.
Mika and James, wisely, said nothing on the ride down. I carefully plucked the photograph from Mika’s hands and studied it. No doubt that Veronica was Carmen’s doppelgänger. This case was probably going to be more dangerous than we anticipated, though I wasn’t sure what drew me to that conclusion. The thought of James and Mika getting involved, however, made me very nervous.
Suddenly, out of the blue, I had a thought. Narrowing my eyes, I turned to James. “How long have you had that key?” I asked, nodding towards his room key, which was still plugged into a small reader just above the floor buttons.
“Um…” James murmured, shifting from foot to foot.
“Unbelievable,” I growled, turning away. I glared at him angrily in the elevator’s glass. “You’ve already slept with her. No wonder you couldn’t turn down the case.”
“Actually, remember, James knew Carmen from when they-” Mika began, but James held up a hand to cut him off.
“You are jealous,” he shot back at me. “I knew it!”
“No,” I told him firmly. I wanted him to hear me and believe every word I said. I was happy with my choice — and he could deal with it. “I’m disappointed in you. You’re sleeping with a client. A current client. Do you know how unprofessional that is? The fact that probably the only reason you said yes to her was because she threatened to withhold sex if you didn’t? You haven’t changed. Not even a little bit.”
“What I do in my free time, and my reasons for taking cases, is none of your business,” James retorted.
“It is when you’re roping my boyfriend into the fray. Partners, James? You’re requesting it of him but you don’t know the meaning of the word.” With that, the elevator doors dinged open at the lobby level and James shoved past Mika and I, stalking towards the front doors. A woman who had been waiting to go up to her room looked uncomfortable and she clutched her purse to her chest for protection, waiting for Mika and I to make a move. I sighed and turned to him. “You’re sure about all this? I mean really, really sure?” I asked, tired and not really caring about his answer. With that, I slunk out of the elevator, into the lobby and towards Mika’s Jeep.
We’d been driving along for a few minutes, saying nothing. While it wasn’t exactly tense silence, it wasn’t cordial either. Mika kept his eyes trained on the road and I kept mine trained out my window. I scanned the sky, which was bright and blue with marshmallowy wisps of cloud. The weather was still unusually cool for spring but, for now, the snow had all but disappeared. There had been a lot of snow over the winter. I shuddered when I recalled having gone home, which was further north, back in December, after my niece had been kidnapped. The whole town had searched high and low in snow drifts up to our waists, hoping that Riley had simply gotten lost or turned around. As it turned out, she’d been picked up by an old Polish mobster and held hostage. Thankfully, she was unharmed, found and brought home safely.
“It’s okay,” Mika said, finally breaking the stalemate. “I know that seeing James must have been difficult for you.”
My stomach dropped. I was such a rotten girlfriend. Here I had this gorgeous, thoughtful, wonderful man and I could only be irritated by the fact that the man I didn’t want was getting on with his life and bringing my boyfriend into his mess. Did it make me petty and jealous? Probably. Still, it also felt surprisingly human. “It wasn’t difficult,” I muttered.
“It was,” he told me. “And it’s perfectly reasonable to feel that way.”
“It’s not,” I answered miserably.
In true Mika form, he checked over his shoulder and pulled into the emergency lane, flipping on his hazards. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he lifted the armrest between us and moved ever closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I couldn’t help it. I began to cry. I was mortified. Tears rolled down my cheeks, fast and hot. I felt an animalistic sob rise in my throat that I couldn’t stop. I sounded like a wounded cow. “Hey,” he said, unbuckling my seatbelt and pulling me into his lap. “Stop that.”
I sobbed for a few more minutes, burying my head in his shoulder. Mika continued to hold me, stroking my hair and murmuring phrases that I couldn’t translate into my ear. Eventually, my sobbing slowed and I started to hiccup. It all felt very romantic comedy and I loathed myself for turning us into one. “What’s wrong with me?” I gasped through my hiccups and remaining tears.
Mika shrugged. “Seeing James for the first time since you broke up with him. Dealing with Carmen. Realizing the mess we’re both in here. Having to look at my ugly mug for eternity. It’s perfectly understandable why you’d be an emotional wreck.” He frowned. “And all of that was really my fault, thinking I knew what was best for you.” He kissed my head. “I did kind of trick you.”
I sniffled and smiled up at him. “Silly man,” I chided him, looping my arms around his neck.
Mika looked at me intently. “I love you,” he said, gently stroking my face. “And I see so many plans for us. I really do.”
I swallowed, opening my mouth to speak, but my own words became caught in my throat. We’d never said those words to one another before. Frankly, I’d never said it to anyone, ever, outside of family and friends. Was I supposed to say it back right now? These things didn’t need to be said just because one of you had put it out there, right? But now that it had been said, was there an expirati
on date? A certain amount of time that I had to say it back before the relationship went south? “I-” I started, but Mika cut me off, pressing a finger to my lips.
“Don’t,” he whispered, kissing my mouth. “When you’re ready.”
Nodding, I softly stroked his face, feeling like a putz. We stared at each other for a long moment before we pulled apart. Mika reattached his seatbelt, flipped off his hazards, checked over his shoulder and pulled back into traffic. We didn’t speak the rest of the way back to my apartment, though, on the inside, I was screaming.
Mika pulled into my parking lot and left his Jeep idling. We sat, both uncertain, saying nothing for a long time. Finally, I found my voice. “Will you come up?” I asked quietly, not allowing myself to make eye contact. “Or do you need to get started on Carmen’s case?”
“I need to get started,” he replied. I felt myself deflate a little, worried that I was already losing a part of him because I hadn’t said those three little words back. I began to reach for my door handle when the car engine sputtered to a stop. “But first, I’m going to come in,” he told me firmly. It was not a question. I looked at him surprised and he smiled. Opening his door, he came around to my side, opened my door and helped me down. We walked towards my elevator arm in arm, my head resting softly against his bicep.
Upstairs, I slowly slid my key into the lock. Mika stood just behind me. He was so close that I could feel heat radiating through his light spring jacket. He leaned even closer and began to nuzzle my neck. I began to push the door open just as he started to nibble my ear. “Now?” I whispered.
“Now,” he growled softly into my ear. I felt his hands move from my lower back up and over my shoulders. He continued to kiss and lick my neck and ear. I felt my knees begin to shake. If he kept this up, they’d be giving out on me for sure. Mika worked my coat zipper down as he forced me inside, then kicked the door closed behind us. As he pulled off my jacket, he let it fall to the floor, slowly making his way back down my neck with his lips and tongue to my shoulder. His hands, having dropped my jacket, paused at my wrists. I shuddered and tugged them away him his grip, wrapping my arms around his neck, craning to turn and kiss him back. “So needy,” he teased softly.
“I don’t need you for anything,” I muttered.
“Oh, I beg to differ, Ms. Moyer,” he whispered. He slowly spun me around and gradually backed me into a wall in the entryway then reached out to secure the deadbolt. “Safety first,” he whispered, causing me to giggle. Smiling, he worked his hands back down to my waistline. Sneaking them up under my shirt, he tugged twice and my blouse was over my head and on the floor. “Pretty,” he breathed, playing with the lace on my bra.
“You saw it this morning,” I reminded him.
“I was more interested in what you were covering.” He began to kiss his way down my chest. Working his hands behind my back, I felt him fiddling with the clasp on my bra until it fell open.
“Someone’s in a hurry.” I shifted my shoulders so that the bra fell off, grasped ahold of his shirt with both of my hands, and practically ripped it in two.
He smiled and shrugged. Leaning forward, I kissed his chest and ran my fingers over his long, sinewy arms. Letting my fingers drop further, I let my left hand pause along his front, cupping him through his trousers. “Speaking of being in a hurry,” he growled.
“You’re hot,” I said simply.
“You just like me for my body.”
“Your brain isn’t half bad, either,” I assured him, looping my arms around his neck. “Now, can we head back to the bedroom so that I can show you just how incredibly grateful I am for your intelligence?”
“I don’t recall needing the bedroom to show you anything last night,” he whispered into my ear. My arms were still wrapped around him when he pulled away with a coy smile and unbuttoned my jeans. Tugging them down in one swift motion, he moved to pick me up and as soon as I was in the air, I kicked off my shoes. He continued to hold me with one arm and tugged off my jeans, letting them drop to the floor. I wrapped my legs around his hips but he shook his head. “Uh uh,” he told me, returning me to the floor. Gently, he pushed me back into the wall, then knelt and toyed gently with my cotton briefs with one hand while he removed my socks one at a time with the other. “Beautiful,” he said, kissing my navel.
“Just…department store brand,” I whispered through gasps, as his hands continued to explore my legs and stomach.
“Seem a bit weak in the knees there, Love. You said something about a bedroom?” he asked.
Now my knees really were about to give out. I nodded weakly and Mika stood. Pulling me into him, he gently picked me up and carried me down the hall. Fred, my betta fish, stared disapprovingly. I wasn’t sure if he was hungry or just jealous, but I didn’t want to waste too many brain cells contemplating it. I wanted an orgasm, damn it. It was really only fair, considering the day I’d already had. Plus, if I went into the photo shoot having just been laid, chances were I’d be much more tolerant of Carmen. Endorphins and dopamine and serotonin and all of that nonsense. Certainly one of them could saddle me up for the next few hours.
Back in my room, Mika set me down on the bed and I reached for the box of condoms that was sitting on the nightstand. “I thought we made it through that last night,” he laughed as he continued to strip himself down.
I shook my head. “But if it makes you feel more manly, it was the biggest size that they were selling at the pharmacy and we did pretty well.”
“How many were there?”
“25.”
“How many do we have left?” he asked, removing his boxers in one swift motion.
I shook the box and looked inside. “Seven,” I answered.
“That’s not nearly enough, considering what I have in mind. But I suppose it’ll have to do, given the time crunch.”
Two hours later, I was splayed out face down on the bed, thoroughly satisfied. In fact, the only thing that could have made the moment more decadent was a cigarette. This coming from a non-smoker. Mika was resting his cheek on my butt, which was covered by a sheet, and he was drawing lazy circles on my sweaty back. “What time is it?” he asked. The sun was pouring through my blinds. I squinted to check the clock on my bedside table. “2:30,” I told him. “I should probably shower. For the second time today.”
Mika pulled himself to his knees and reached across me to the box of condoms. Peeking inside, he grinned and pulled out the last one. “Me too.”
Needless to say, I was late getting to the studio. My hair, which had been dried courtesy of my rolled-down windows and driving 70 on the interstate, was sticking out in weird directions. I had several camera bags slung over my shoulders as I raced from the gravel lot behind my studio up to the main entrance. A limo was parked out front. Carmen was probably already inside. Arriving at the large set of double doors, I took a deep breath, made one last attempt at smoothing down my curls and let myself inside.
“It’s about time you got here,” Carmen screeched immediately. She was sitting on a stool, completely done up in hair and makeup, wrapped in a signature royal purple Food Porn robe. “I’ve been waiting for an hour.”
“More like ten minutes,” I heard Addison call through clenched teeth. She’d emerged from our joint office, far above the concrete studio. Addison is my gorgeous partner in crime. Cameron Diaz’s face meets Sofía Vergara’s curves. Her heels are never less than four inches, her clothes leave almost nothing to the imagination and her spitfire attitude has recently been adjusted through breathing exercises her therapist encouraged. Addison is a reporter for the local paper and has almost no filter. Then again, her coworkers are all round, middle-aged men who swear like sailors and have no problem pushing crying mothers and orphans for information if it means a better story. You have to have a bit of steel in your veins to work among them.
We are partners at Food Porn, Addison and I. I take the photographs, she writes the stories and her boyfriend, Rory, plugs everything together. H
e’s our resident Marketing Director and an overall graphic design genius. Rory is exceedingly wealthy and doesn’t mind working for free most months. He’s British and a bit geeky, wearing clothes that are too short for his limbs and glasses that are too thick for his face. His smile is permanent but crooked, and his devotion to Addison is as unwavering as love found in old Hollywood classics. Yes, they’re dating. I find it weird, too. But, in a way, it works.
“The point is that I was on time. I have a plane to catch and they won’t serve me wine unless I’m there are least 20 minutes before takeoff,” Carmen answered with a whimper.
“Your plane out isn’t even until tomorrow,” I said, flustered, as I gently set all of my cameras on the floor. I started unzipping the cases frantically, collecting cameras and lenses while I took in the lighting scheme I’d set up the day before. The background I’d chosen was a soft copper color, which lit up Carmen’s skin tone beautifully. Off to the side of the set was a table heaped with plates of food from the tiny Bolivian restaurant. “When did they drop that off?” I called to Addison, nodding towards the table.
“About an hour ago,” Addison responded, quickly making her way over to my side. “Roberto called my cell and asked for someone to come let him in. Said he’d been calling you and calling you since noon but you hadn’t picked up.”
Roberto was the son of the restaurant owner. “Uh, I was-er-busy,” I told her, clicking a lens into place and flipping on my camera.
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 3
