by Tina Donahue
In the Photoshopped images, Mac had lengthened her hair and changed her eye color to match his baby blues. The tint was a striking contrast to her black mask, which hid a good portion of Jodi’s features. No one would ever guess she was the woman in the photos, animal heat in her gaze, her naked longing the most stunning part of the shots.
This was some of Mac’s best work.
Then again, maybe not. She wasn’t an artist like he was. No doubt, he’d seen things in these shots that hadn’t pleased him.
Jodi wondered if that’s why he’d kept dragging his feet on this or if Quinn hadn’t responded because he’d been less than impressed. For hours, Jodi had expected a call or an email from him to the studio account, saying the shoot was a go. She was tempted to look in Mac’s email—she had his password but couldn’t bring herself to use it. That would be like him rifling through her purse.
Edgy, she watched him work. Not once did Mac glance at her as he’d done in the past. At those times, he’d reminded her of a little boy eager for attention, shouting repeatedly, “Look at me. Look at me.”
She couldn’t focus on anything else.
He sank to one knee, feet bare as always, and squeezed off his shots. A short time later, while Cait brought a prop to the scene and Hilary fixed Willow’s makeup, Mac messed with his camera.
Look at me, Jodi willed him.
As though he’d heard, he turned slightly, his profile to her, his focus on the front door.
Jodi looked. No one had come inside. She wondered if he was expecting Quinn and figured that was nuts since they could complete their transaction without ever seeing each other, unless it was on their respective webcams.
“It’s nearly three,” Cait suddenly said. “Hilary and I are hungry.”
“Just a few more,” Mac muttered.
He worked everyone for another half hour before he allowed a break.
The models slouched on the sofa. Willow called out to Jodi, “We’ll have our usual. Now. We’re starving.”
Ignoring her, Jodi tried to catch Mac’s eye. He walked past her desk, seemingly deep in thought. She got up from her desk and followed him to his office. When she shut and locked his door, Mac turned, surprise not pleasure racing across his face.
Jodi talked fast. “I hate to keep pestering you about this, but has Quinn seen the shots?”
Mac turned to Cait and Hilary’s voices just beyond the door as they walked past, apparently heading to the restroom.
Taking Jodi’s hand, he led her to his chair. “Sit down.”
Her stomach fell. “I don’t want to.”
“Please.”
She sank onto his chair, her legs too spongy to hold her. Mac went to one knee at her side, his hand on her leg. She sagged back.
“He didn’t like the shots, did he?”
“Actually he did. Very much.”
Jodi’s mouth fell open then closed just as quickly. Not certain she’d heard him correctly, she asked, “He thought they were good?”
“Yep.”
She grinned. Mac didn’t. Her stomach cramped again.
“What’s wrong?”
He watched his forefinger draw lazy circles on her thigh. “He thinks you’re beautiful, which you are, but he’s going with another model.”
Huh? “Why?”
At last, Mac lifted his face to hers, his expression so neutral his feelings were impossible to read. The obvious tension in his body was another matter. Jodi sensed he had something to tell her that she might not want to hear.
“Go on,” she prodded. “I want to know.”
He glanced past her, clearly stalling while he figured out what to say.
“Please,” she begged. “Just tell—“
“It’s no big deal,” he interrupted then paused, his expression suddenly pained as if he didn’t know what to say or how to go on.
“What?” she pressed.
Mac sighed. “You’re beautiful. He said you were beautiful. He thinks you’re amazing.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Again, he hesitated. “He couldn’t talk about you enough.” Mac swallowed hard. “I couldn’t get the bastard to shut the fuck up.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Look, you didn’t even want to do this, right? I talked you into it. I shouldn’t have. It was wrong.”
Jodi gripped his arm. “I don’t undersand what you’re saying. He likes me, but he’s going with another model. Why exactly?”
“Because he is. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re too good for it.”
Right. Spoken like a guy who didn’t want to tell a woman the sorry truth and see her cry. Jodi’s throat continued to constrict. She cleared it. “Okay.”
“Jodi, really, he loved how you looked. I would never lie to you about that. And I know you’re worried about paying me back,” Mac added quickly, “but don’t. You’ll still get the sitting fee for your time. I’ve already cut the check.”
She forced a smile. “Thanks.”
Mac pulled her into his arms. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have put you through this.”
“I’m okay.” She hugged him. “It didn’t work out. He liked someone else’s looks better. I understand.”
“No you don’t.” Mac eased back and cupped her face in his hands. “Quinn couldn’t gush enough about how you looked. He loved you, but you should be happy about not having to do this. Now you don’t have to worry about your parents ever finding out. You have the money for your car, and you didn’t have to expose yourself to strangers like Viv, Willow and the other models do. That’s not you, Jodi. It never has been. Never will be.”
His kindness should have comforted rather than hurt. Jodi felt like a little kid again when her dad had tried to soothe her after the neighborhood bullies had made fun of her weight and glasses. “They’re just jealous,” he’d said, “because you look so pretty and smart.”
Jodi’s faith in her dad’s sweet words had faded right along with her belief in Santa Claus. “I better let you get back to work.”
“Not until I know you’re okay.”
Mac’s tender concern touched Jodi as nothing else had. He looked nearly as dejected as she felt.
“I am. I better go; the models want their food.”
“Screw ’em. They can get it themselves.”
Jodi laughed softly. “Not if they’re wearing nothing but body makeup.”
“I’ll go. You stay here. What do they usually get?”
“I can’t let you—“
“Let me? Fuck that, I’m the boss.” He smiled and softened his voice. “Stay here and relax. What do you want me to get you?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He looked worried but dropped the subject, waiting while Jodi wrote down what the others usually had. With the list in hand, Mac kissed her gently then left from the seldom-used back exit just outside his office.
The models’ loud conversation drifted down the hall.
“What is taking so long?” Nadine whined.
“Who knows,” Willow said. “Has anyone checked the john to see if she’s in there?”
“I’m too tired to move,” Samantha answered. “You do it.”
“I’m busy.”
“You’re never going to find—“
“Ohmygod,” Willow cut in. “You have to see this.” She laughed loudly. “This is so…I can’t find the word. Sad?”
“What?” Nadine’s voice was eager with curiosity.
Jodi heard the models padding across the front of the studio followed by momentary silence then their noisy laughter. “Are those for real?” Nadine asked.
“Unfortunately,” Samantha said. “Who is that?”
“Don’t know. There’s only a date, no name.”
“Where’d you find them?” Nadine asked.
“They were already up on the screen when I was trying to find our shots to see what Mac had come up—“
Jodi
didn’t hear the rest. Mac’s chair squeaked loudly as she left it and rushed out of his office, praying she was wrong about what had made them laugh.
They must have heard her footfalls. When Jodi rounded the corner, Nadine, Willow and Samantha were well away from her desk as if it had nothing to do with them.
Jodi looked at her computer. Apparently she’d forgotten to bring up the desktop. Her body went cold at her Photoshopped images on the screen. Ones she’d thought were so great but Quinn hadn’t wanted and these three had found funny. No…sad. That’s the word Willow had used.
Samantha and Nadine were still sniggering.
Jodi’s cheeks burned. Turning away, she went into the restroom and leaned against the door, telling herself that what they thought didn’t matter. Mac had been so freaking right. Those pictures weren’t who she really was or had ever been.
None of this was or would ever be.
* * * * *
Mac returned with the food and handed it to Willow.
She purred, “Thanks, baby.”
Nodding, he studied Jodi. She hadn’t looked up from her computer screen when he’d come in. She seemed deep in thought, her expression revealing nothing.
The slump of her shoulders told Mac how hard she’d taken his news, or rather this lie. He’d wanted to tell her why he’d refused to let Quinn use the photos but the words had stuck in his throat. He should have told her how he felt, except Mac wasn’t certain what that was, except that he liked her more than any woman he’d ever known. He wanted to be with her. When they were apart, it killed him. When they were together, he couldn’t get enough of her. He felt protective, possessive, out of control.
Was that love?
Shit, he didn’t know. He’d come from a family that hadn’t a clue about fidelity or tenderness. Jodi had caused him to crave too much. She’d turned him inside out until Mac was afraid to think, feel, move.
He remained just short of her desk, not budging, willing her to acknowledge him.
She typed something, pushed her glasses up her nose and checked the screen then continued typing. He wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
Mac went into his office and got the check he’d told her about. Another lie. Quinn was hardly paying for Jodi’s time since he’d wanted her badly and had accepted the new model with little grace. She’d be here this weekend for the shoot when Jodi wasn’t around. Mac slipped the check into an envelope, pausing to read the amount. A thousand over what her car had cost, to give her a little extra, allow her to breathe and not worry about money so fucking much.
When he returned to her desk, she wasn’t there. He checked the hall. The bathroom door was open, light off. He finally found her in the kitchen drinking a glass of water.
“Here.” Taking her hand, he slipped the envelope inside and curled his fingers around it. “I wanted you to have this right away so you could put it into your account.”
She smiled faintly then glanced at Willow and Nadine. The models were gushing about how cool the new Batman movie was.
Mac stared at Jodi’s pale throat. It bobbed with her hard swallow. He joked, “Are you up for more of my special spaghetti tonight?”
Her fingers tightened around the envelope, crinkling it. “I told my parents I’d have dinner with them.”
She looked at him finally. Her expression was cordial, the way it had been when she first interviewed for the job. Gone was the softness and heat Mac had come to expect.
“They haven’t seen me in a while. They worry. I can’t stay late tonight. Sorry.”
“No biggie. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
She put down her glass and held up the check. “Thanks for this, but it’s yours.” She offered it to him. “For my car.”
Mac pushed his hands into his pockets. “You earned more than what covered the repairs.”
“Then that will also pay you back for all the food you bought me and the gas for the rides. I really appreciate it.” She put the envelope on the counter and returned to her desk.
After that, she didn’t speak to him unless Mac spoke to her first, which he did frequently, asking questions he didn’t need to ask, making stupid comments. Jodi responded to all of them, even smiling at one of his dumber jokes, but she wasn’t the same.
When she grabbed her purse to leave, he told his models to take five. Stopping Jodi at the door, he spoke softly, “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. My parents eat early. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re all right with what happened? With Quinn not…you know.”
She laughed indifferently but her face turned bright red, hiding her freckles. “No problem. I’m surprised he thought my shots were good.”
Mac frowned. “Don’t say that.”
Jodi patted his arm. “I wasn’t criticizing you. Just being honest about me. Have a good night.” She left before he could say anything else.
* * * * *
Dinner with her parents was pleasant but exhausting. Jodi struggled to listen to her dad’s comments about work and sports. She kept refusing seconds of her mom’s pot roast, Jodi’s all-time favorite meal, which contained more calories than she needed.
Willow’s comment kept echoing in her mind. Sad, sad, sad.
Jodi’s cheeks warmed again. Nothing like being the object of pity. Even Mac’s concern was beginning to grate. She wasn’t a stick or gorgeous but she wasn’t gross either.
She didn’t want him as only a buddy, She wanted him as a real lover, a man who could cherish her for the woman she was, who wanted her all to himself. Jodi didn’t want him drooling over anyone else. A tall freaking order when naked women always surrounded him. Their bodies and faces might not have been perfect but they sure as hell were close, and those babes knew it.
As usual, when he wasn’t around, they debated who’d sleep with him first. Willow had claimed she would.
Jodi hadn’t missed how Willow stared at him and always seemed to be close no matter what he was doing.
So far, Mac had seemed clueless about Willow’s obvious flirting. Maybe she wasn’t his type. Maybe she would be eventually. How long could he resist her—
“Sweetie?”
Jodi started at her mom’s hand on her arm. “What?”
“Dad asked you a question.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Jodi smiled at him. He was a compact man with short reddish hair and a ruddy complexion sprinkled with freckles. She’d inherited her poor vision from her mom, who also wore glasses. “What?”
He took her hand in both of his and patted her fingers gently. “We were wondering how things are going with you.”
“You look sad,” her mom said.
“No,” she lied. “I’m just tired.”
Her dad frowned. “Your boss working you too hard?”
Not any longer, at least between the sheets. Jodi wouldn’t allow any more intimacy between them when it wouldn’t lead anywhere. As bad as she felt now, she’d feel a hell of a lot worse the longer this went on. She needed to protect her heart and think about her future, no matter how shitty it might be. “He’s fine. I have regular hours, Dad. If I stay longer, he pays me overtime.”
“He damn well should.”
Jodi squeezed her father’s hand and smiled at her mom even as her heart ached. “Don’t worry about me. I’m doing fine.” She finally accepted what she had to do. On a sigh, she added, “Actually, I’ve never been better.”
* * * * *
This wouldn’t do. Fuck no.
For more than a week, Jodi had dodged Mac, coming in on time rather than early as she had been. She left right on the dot too, not waiting for him to finish so they could grab a dog, cat, or some-fucking-thing. Unless Mac stood directly in front of her and spoke, she never met his eyes.
She was back to staring at the models as if they ruled the world and she was merely a commoner among gods. She looked as lost and sad as he felt and Mac simply couldn’t take it any longer.
&n
bsp; He’d been god-awful wrong about the thing with Quinn and was willing to admit it. The gig had meant a lot to her. Far more than it should, and that’s what really pissed Mac off. Jodi shouldn’t need anyone, not even him, to validate her beauty. She should fucking know how wonderful she’d always been.
Too bad she was as human as he was. Mac wanted her approval more than he cared to acknowledge. If she’d regarded his cock as if it wasn’t enough for her, that would have killed him. If she hadn’t liked his work, he probably would have never stopped reshooting until she gave him a thumbs up.
He needed her. He hoped she needed him.
When she arrived at a few minutes to nine, he was waiting for her, arms crossed, his ass planted firmly on her desk.
She jerked to a stop, blushed until her face was as red as her hair then smiled.
It looked more like a grimace.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
“Lock the door.”
She looked at it. “UPS comes early sometimes. They might drop by with a delivery today.”
“I’m not expecting anything and neither are you. Lock the door or I will. We need to talk.”
Her pained expression said she’d rather bolt but she finally nodded. “Yes we do.”
Once she’d turned the lock, she joined him at her desk. Not on his lap as she had in the past or even close enough for him to grab her.
Keeping her distance, Jodi said, “I’m giving my two weeks’ notice. I’ll help you hire and train some—“
“What?” Mac shot to his feet.
Jodi backed away. He followed. They kept going around her desk, him pursuing, her fleeing.
“Dammit, stay still,” he hollered.
“No,” she hollered back. “I’m quitting. Didn’t you hear me? I have another job lined up. I’m giving you my—“
“The fuck you are. I’m not accepting it.” He caught her wrist and pulled her close. “I know what this is about.”
“So do I. It’s about starting a new job.”
“Bull.”
She twisted her wrist, trying to get free. He wouldn’t let her. “How’d you find out?”
