There’d been a couple of abandoned places I’d been dying to check out. I needed something fresh so I could treat it like one of the properties on the show. In the past, I shot whatever interested me, but this time I was looking for clues. Anything that told me why the property had been left behind. Perfect practice for this new gig. Spoiler alert, as Leah would say; I planned to take the job if they offered it to me.
There was an abandoned hotel built in the middle of last century that was rumored to be haunted. I’d never gone for the paranormal stuff, I didn’t believe in it, but for what I had in mind, it was perfect. It was a little bit of a ride up the coast, which gave me time to think.
This job would change everything. Leah and I still barely knew each other. As a producer, I was expected to have an opinion about the show. The way the proposal had originally been drawn up, everything filtered through Leah. The new one, written by our agent, gave us equal footing. I wasn’t interested in stealing Leah’s thunder, but I wanted to make sure we did the properties justice. Before I accepted anything, we needed to talk about that. Dreams changed when they became reality. Our subconscious blocked out all the shitty stuff that reality loved to hand us.
Someone had kicked a side door off the hinges of the motel and I slipped inside, unnoticed. At first, the property was a huge disappointment. It had been badly remodeled in the eighties and stripped of everything that might have made it interesting. Trash littered the hallways, and the hair rose on my arms. Whether it was a squatter or a ghost, I wasn’t alone.
I continued my search, taking pictures through broken doors of the almost empty rooms. Hazy sunlight filtered in through filthy windows, obscuring the random chairs, pillows, and hotel artwork left behind. Just because I was looking for something new didn’t mean I’d ignore the stuff that drew me to these places. The feeling of having company hadn’t gone away, and I proceeded with caution. If anything happened, no one would find me here for a long time.
Rumor had it there’d been a murder-suicide here, a lover’s quarrel, and they never left. That’s what I was looking for. A necklace, a broken mirror, hell, a bloody handprint would be way too much to ask for. Even though the sun blazed in the windows, it was freezing in there, so I was pretty sure I was on the right track.
Floor after floor, I didn’t find any clues. I should’ve done my research first, so I knew what I was looking for instead of expecting it to pop out at me. Lesson learned. The top floor was open and half finished. Too big to be an attic, but there was more actual stuff there than I’d seen in the rest of the building. Quite a bit of garbage, but no graffiti, which was surprising and disappointing. All this stuff was fucking boring, too. Definitely doing my research first next time.
LEAVE.
It was spray painted in huge letters on the back wall. Now that was cool. I wanted to get it from every angle I could, from behind the dusty mattresses, through the spindles of the forgotten dining room chairs. That cold feeling of having company amplified with every shot. I could take a hint.
Usually, I checked my shots before I left a property. Not this time. I was always relieved to see my bike waiting for me outside the places I didn’t belong, but never more so than that day. There was a diner down the street, and I stopped to grab some lunch and check to see if I captured anything my eye had missed. Things looked different on the screen than they did through the lens.
It was the kind of place where the waitress automatically called me Sugar. She wanted to chat; fill that awkward space between lunch and dinner.
“What brought you in today?” She leaned forward, pushing her cleavage out of the V-neck of her uniform shirt and batted her eyelashes at me. My phone was in the space between us, lit up to show one of the black and white pictures I took of Leah the night of her reunion. I looked down, trying to draw attention to it. She didn’t get the hint.
“I was hungry.”
“Aren’t we all?” She laughed too loud. “What are you looking for in a lonely little town like this?”
Perfect. I mirrored her posture and matched her smile. “I just broke into the abandoned hotel down the street. Wanted to check if it was really haunted. I think it is.”
“Oh.” She filled my coffee cup and disappeared.
So far, the shots were even more boring than they’d been in person. The place might be haunted, but there was no magic to be had there. My phone lit up—Leah’s agent. Hadn’t gotten used to calling her mine. I almost let it go to voicemail. The interest from the network had been an ego stroke, but these pictures didn’t lie.
“Amazing news. They agreed to every one of our terms.” She’d gone for broke on the contract, explaining to me that if she padded the offer, the network would meet us somewhere in the middle, and we’d get what we wanted. “That never happens. I have a full roster, a lot of well-known talent, and they always push back. They really want you.”
I wondered how much Leah had to do with that. She’d joked about making offers I couldn’t refuse, but I didn’t think those had anything to do with money. “So what happens next?”
“As long as you agree to the terms, I’ll forward you the contract, and then you’ll be Raven Leigh Productions’ newest employee.”
I wondered how Raven felt about having a production company named after her. “Send it over.”
I’d known my answer for a long time. There was only so long I could say no to Leah. I called her before I put the phone down. “Hey. I got the offer. Am I allowed to accept the job now?”
“Are you happy with it? Just tell me yes or no.” We agreed to never talk about the money part of the job. Just that we’d both be making it.
“They’re paying me to spend time with you. How could I go wrong?” I laughed, but Leah didn’t answer. “I haven’t looked at it yet. The money doesn’t matter. I can’t wait to start this job.”
“That makes you the perfect employee. You’ve set a standard for yourself, Jagger.” There was the laughter.
“I aim to please.”
“And you do. Every single time.” Her tone changed, and any remnants of the chill were gone. “We need to get you up here for the screen test. The whole thing is contingent on that. We’re announcing the winning property next week. Spoiler alert—it’s Vermont. Since we’re short on time, I think we should film the announcement as the screen test.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Okay, the network handles the flights now. I’ll see you in Vermont in less than a week.”
**
“You took the job?” Zach looked at me like I told him I’d found evidence of alien life forms on South Beach. “Does Barry know about this?”
“Why the fuck do I have to ask Barry’s permission? I quit. And that’s exactly why I’m taking the job. How else would I explain that I’m thirty-three and have zero references?”
“The lawsuit, Jag. He’s flipping out. You know the agency is in the gray area of being legal. If they go snooping too deep in what we’re actually doing, we’re in some serious shit. You really fucked us all over, messing with that girl.”
“I didn’t do anything to anyone.” Everyone expected me to apologize for Beth. No way. I’d gone on a job in good faith. She didn’t. If anyone should be suing for breach of contract, it was me. “And Barry’s got nothing to worry about. It says everywhere that we’re hired to provide companionship.”
How we defined that was up to us and our clients.
“Of course. You have a job. You’d feel a lot different about it if you were still with us.” Zach took a long sip of his beer. “I better hurry up and find my own client to hook me up with a super sweet gig so I can get out, too.”
“I’ve talked to my own lawyer.” It was a little bit of a stretch, but Kari would pounce on this the minute it went public. I wasn’t her favorite person, but we saw eye to eye on one thing—no one was going to screw with Leah. I almost told Zach who my lawyer was—Kari had hired him several times. But I figured it was best to leave her name out of it.
“She says it’s garbage, and she’ll file a countersuit.”
“Doesn’t matter. The whole thing worked because it was under the radar. We were everyone’s dirty little secret, and it could’ve still stayed that way if you didn’t get involved with Miss Morning Show Today, or whatever the fuck that show’s called. You file a countersuit. Big deal. The reason you don’t care is because you got out. Me, the rest of the guys? We’re screwed. I know you’re trying to protect your girlfriend, Jag, but you’re ruining all of our lives.”
Chapter Twenty
Leah
“What’s this?” I side-eyed Jagger as he handed me a manila envelope. The makeup artist held me steady by the chin, but I couldn’t miss his grin in the mirror. The makeup trailer was in an uproar in general—it always took us a day to settle into our on location routine—but Jagger added a whole new level of excitement.
Jagger was truly being tried by fire. He didn’t have the luxury of getting his feet wet in the studio. We were shooting live, something we hardly ever did, and anything could and often did happen. I was doing the introduction and the interview. I knew he’d win the audience over once he started talking about the project. My only concern was him keeping it within the time constraints. A one-minute segment either passed in a blink of an eye or lasted an eternity. Whatever happened, I refused to let Jagger make a fool of himself.
“You’ll see when you open it.” Jagger had been done for a while—everyone gushed that he barely needed anything—but his artist still doted on him while I got my usual shellacking. They’d insisted they had to go heavy so the camera didn’t wash me out, but I called bullshit on that now that Jagger only got a swipe of concealer and some lip balm.
My artist turned away, having trouble with her airbrush gun, and I opened the envelope. “Just wanted to make sure it was safe for an audience,” I said. I didn’t miss the look on his artist’s face when she figured out we were more than co-hosts. She disappeared.
They were pictures of an empty building, but not Jagger’s usual work. This building was well-kept and looked to be somewhere in Miami. There were shots of a storefront, angles down a street, a brightly painted mural, and a Coming Soon sign.
I looked over at Jagger, who was glowing. It had nothing to do with his makeup. “I give up. Tell me what I’m looking at.”
“It’s the space I rented for my gallery.” His smile was almost too big for his face. “Right around the corner from the original spot. It’s a little smaller, but that’s probably good. Looking to open in about—“ He looked at his wrist like he was wearing a watch “—sixty days.”
I gasped, clapping my hand over my mouth just as the makeup artist aimed the airbrush at my face. A spray of foundation covered the back of my hand. I jumped out of the chair and hugged him. “That’s amazing.” I kissed his cheek. Rumors would start swirling around set the second I made contact. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you,” he said loudly enough only for me to hear. “None of this would’ve happened without you.”
I shook my head, holding his face in my hands. “Yes, it would have.” I turned around and grinned at my artist, who had her makeup gun cocked and loaded. “Sorry.”
While the hairdresser tamed my curls, I did a run-through with Jagger. Unless he had camera fright, he so had this. He’d put himself in much more precarious situations, I couldn’t imagine he’d be intimidated by a nationwide audience that numbered somewhere in the millions.
I made sure to wear one of the scarves I’d tied him up with.
We walked to set hand in hand. Diane glared at me, but that wasn’t anything unusual. “Remember, Jagger, don’t look directly into the camera. Look at Leah. She’ll do the lead-in. Answer her questions like you’re having a conversation with her and the rest of us aren’t here. I’ll cue when there are ten seconds left, Leah will wrap up the segment. Any questions?”
He exhaled heavily. “Not until later, I’m sure.”
“You’ll do great. Welcome to the team.” Diane stopped before she passed me. “Let go of his hand,” she muttered in my ear.
I ignored her. Jagger had it all wrong. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. This project had been born on the first night we met. For the first time in a long time, I was nervous. No, that wasn’t the feeling. Excited.
The New York crew introduced the segment, and Diane signaled for me to start. “We’re coming to you today from outside of Stowe, Vermont. The response we received to the Second Chances submissions was overwhelming—over a million votes. This is the property you wanted to see us restore. You’ll get to follow us every step of the way, starting this fall. I’m thrilled for all of you to meet my co-host, Jagger Holiday.”
“Thanks, Leah. Can’t wait for the show to start.” Just like he’d been doing this forever.
I almost forgot my next line. “You’ve been photographing properties like this for years. What draws you to them?”
“A lot of these places have been forgotten, but at one time, they were new and full of promise. The cool part of exploring abandoned properties is finding the pieces of that promise that people left behind. It makes it a living, breathing thing again.”
“Tell us what we can expect from your segments, Jagger.”
“We’re going back to when the property was booming. We’ll get all the stories we can, from the people who know them best. Then I’ll show you how we found the barn, the unique history of the property. We’ll be restoring the barn to be a modern, sustainable dairy farm, but as much as possible, we’ll remain true to the original design.”
“Thanks, Jagger. I can’t wait to get to work.”
Diane motioned for us to cut. “Perfect.”
“Social media is blowing up,” one of the production assistants said as soon as we got back to the video tent. The segment had been live, but it was still good to watch the clips. “Everyone wants to know who Jagger is.”
**
The rest of the crew headed back to New York after we finished filming the segment. Only Diane, Shannon, Jagger and I stayed behind to start our research on the property. We split up—Diane and Shannon left me and Jagger alone. I trailed after him, soaking in everything he did. He brought me to a coffee shop that looked more like a museum, populated by people who were born in the town and planned on dying there as well. Over a cup of coffee, he got more information about our abandoned farm from the townies than we would’ve ever found anywhere else. One of the old men was the cousin of the former owner. It had been in the family for generations, but none of his kids had been interested in keeping up the family business. He did his best on his own until his wife got sick. Then the whole thing fell apart. He tried to sell it, but not so long ago, people didn’t give a shit about preserving old barns. The town had blocked developers from coming in and building time shares, but no one had stepped up to take care of the property.
“Is he still alive?” Jagger asked. The old man shook his head. “Are you in contact with any of his kids or grandkids? Times have changed. One of them might be interested in it now. We’d love to keep it in the family if we could.”
“If we can’t find anyone to take care of the property when we’re done, it’s in the show’s contract to sell it.” I frowned. I hated that part, but it served two purposes. It ensured that the property wouldn’t fall back into ruin—in the short run, anyway, and all the proceeds would go to be my soon-to-be-named charitable foundation. I hadn’t decided what purpose the foundation would serve, beyond preserving abandoned buildings as landmarks. Possibly get them registered historically. “Then we lose all control over the property.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the old man said, shaking our hands before we headed out.
We headed back to our bed and breakfast. There weren’t any actual hotels nearby, and that was fine with me. The B&B was cozy and it gave us a chance to actually live in the town, even if it was for only forty-eight hours. I’d been good the night before, sleeping in my own bed by myself. But
there was only so long I could resist this man, especially when he slept just down the hall from me.
“When was the last time I told you that you’re amazing?” I climbed on top of Jagger, who lay on the four poster bed in his room.
“About twenty minutes ago.” He grinned. “But it never gets old, so keep doing it.”
“I know you had doubts about taking this project, but now that you’re involved, and I’ve seen you in action, this is the best decision either of us has ever made. We’d never get this stuff without you. I’d have no idea what to ask. Diane might, but she’d piss them off or decide they didn’t know anything before she got the information.”
Jagger sat up quickly, rocking me back in his lap. He had me in his grasp before I lost my balance. “Seen me in action, huh?” His words were hot breath against my neck. “I’ve been watching you in action all day, and there’s only one thing I want to do about it.”
Heat radiated from his lap. My skin was already damp with his desire. “I bet it’s the same thing I had in mind.”
My shirt and scarf were up over my head, we worked in perfect tandem. Jagger couldn’t wait long enough to get my bra off, his lips hungry and wanting against the lace. Didn’t matter what was in his way, he had no problem hitting the mark. He pulled hard on my nipple, and I ached to actually feel his tongue against it.
I ground my hips against him, and he moaned. My hands were everywhere, in his hair, and on his back. I wondered what everyone would think if they knew I ripped his back to shreds almost every time he fucked me. He’d be nothing but scar tissue if we could do this all the time. But it would make him even more beautiful because he’d be mine.
Of course my phone started vibrating on the nightstand next to us. I reached for it, but Jagger grabbed my hand before I got it. Expert level move, he didn’t break contact with my nipple. I gave in, his fingers lacing between mine, but the phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
Wrapped Around My Finger Page 13
