“Hot,” was all Jenna said before she jumped back into her novel. Lenora squared her shoulders and walked down the hallway toward Dawna’s office. She had a good idea what was coming and it was going to be ugly.
Lenora approached the office, and Dawna looked up from her big glass desk, a scowl on her face. Lenora froze in the doorway. She was always amazed at how such a gorgeous woman—with a flawless tan complexion, beautiful hazel eyes, long dark hair, and a tall, slender size six figure—could make herself look so mean. Dawna reminded Lenora of Wilhelmina Slater and Cruella de Vil wrapped into one terrifying being.
“Sorry to be late,” Lenora said as she inched toward the desk.
“Don’t be fucking sorry,” Dawna snapped. “Just be on time. We’ve got a magazine to get out here. I can’t have my key staff late all the damn time. Where the hell have you been?”
Lenora stood stiffly in front of the desk and swallowed hard. All the lies she had prepared were stuck in her throat. “Uh, my alarm never went off. Last night I had to go—”
Lenora paused as Dawna held up a hand adorned with thick gold rings. “Save the drama for your mama,” Dawna said. “I’m running a business here. Do you think I care about your fucking alarm and what you did last night?”
Lenora swallowed harder.
“Whatever is going on in your personal life, I don’t give a damn,” Dawna continued. “Just come in here on time. That’s all I ask. Do you think you can manage that?”
“Yes,” Lenora said. “I can manage that.” Sometimes she thought her single, overworked boss just needed to get laid. Or to have some other kind of fun. All the woman did was work and yell at everybody all day long.
“I damn sure hope so, Lenora,” Dawna said firmly. “This lateness has gone on too long. Don’t make me have to fire your ass. I will, you know. If you weren’t so damn good at what you do, I would have fired you a long time ago.”
Lenora bit her bottom lip and broke out into a sweat. That was the first time Dawna had used the word “fire,” and it made Lenora nervous. “It… it won’t happen again. I’ll make—”
“Here, take this,” Dawna snapped before Lenora could finish. Lenora eased her camera bag onto the floor and took the slips of paper from Dawna.
“The address is for a park-like setting in front of a new luxury condo on the waterfront. You’re going to see Raymond Shearer, a young hot landscaper in the area. We’re planning to run a feature on his work in the August issue. The other slip is the shot list. We want him and his crew getting in and out of their pickup trucks, digging holes, trimming trees. All that good stuff. Now hurry. He was expecting you at the site an hour ago, and I need those shots tomorrow morning for the layout. We go to print next week.”
Lenora knew this meant she would likely be working late tonight reviewing and organizing the photographs on her computer. And that meant she’d have to cancel her dinner date with Gerald. She had planned to shop and cook a big meal for him, one that she saw prepared on her favorite cooking show, Down Home with the Neelys, on the Food Network. Spicy crab cakes, gazpacho salad, and ice cream with an orange liqueur flambé. This menu wasn’t exactly diet food, but the way Gerald had smacked his lips in anticipation when she cited the menu had convinced her to skip the diet for one night. Now he was going to have to wait and her diet was back on. Frustrating, but what could she do?
She placed the paper in a side pocket of her camera bag. “Should I focus on the landscaper and his crew or the grounds around the project he’s working on? I ask because if it’s a new building—”
“Didn’t I just say he was a hot young landscaper? Of course it’s about him. But get photos of the grounds, too. And the crew! All of it! Now, scram! Go do your job and get the hell out of my office. I have a million things to do.” Dawna shooed Lenora out the door. Lenora bent down and quickly grabbed her camera bag, all too happy to oblige.
She went to her office to retrieve a couple of extra lenses and filters that were good for close-ups of flowers and plants then headed back down to the parking lot. She hated rushing about, preferring to talk to the writer of the piece and to plan her shots before going on location. But that wasn’t how it worked with this new managing editor, although she was partly to blame for being late.
Lenora just hoped her lousy car would be kind to her. Her job likely depended on its cooperation. She hopped in and hugged the steering wheel for a second, crossed herself and said a silent prayer, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine started right up. “Yes!” she said aloud, pumping her fist in the air. She pulled away from the building and headed toward the waterfront.
Chapter 3
It was impossible to find the luxury condominium on the waterfront, even using the trusty portable GPS sitting on the dashboard. Lenora drove around and around until she realized that Dawna had likely given her the wrong address. She finally pulled into a filling station and asked for directions.
An hour after leaving the office, she pulled into a parking lot on the side of the condominium and spotted a crew working on a magnificently landscaped hillside. They were smoothing mulch around the shrubbery and flower beds near a fountain. A few guys toted tools and wheelbarrows back to pickup trucks. As Lenora stood for moment taking the scene in, she suddenly realized with horror that the crew was actually wrapping things up.
She dashed around to the passenger side of her car, removed her Nikon from the camera bag, and draped it around her neck. Then she gathered the bag from the seat, slung it over her shoulder, and scanned the scene looking for Raymond Shearer. She saw some jeans-clad men loading gear into trucks and tried to figure out which one was Raymond. She had imagined that someone with the name Raymond Shearer would be white, but most of these men were Hispanic.
She was about to head toward the fountain when she spotted a black man, probably in his late twenties, crossing the parking lot. He was lugging a sack of mulch and wearing blue jeans and work boots. He signaled for one of the workers near the trucks to get another sack from the base of the fountain and follow him to the truck.
Maybe that’s Raymond, Lenora thought, and she walked toward the trucks. A couple of the guys stared at her as she approached, and you would have thought the space shuttle had just landed in the parking lot. Evidently a woman in their midst was unusual. Lenora shrugged it off. Such attention was an occupational hazard when she was out taking photos for her job. Guys on construction sites would stop and stare at anything with boobs, even a woman as casual and undone up as she was at that moment.
“Excuse me,” she said to one of the guys. “Which one of you is Raymond Shearer?”
He pointed to the black man dumping a sack onto the truck bed. Lenora approached. “Hi,” she said, holding out her business card. “I’m Lenora Stone from the Baltimore Scene magazine. I’m here to get a few shots of you all while you work, for the feature we’re doing on you.”
Raymond didn’t even bother to look at her. He continued to stack bags of mulch on the truck bed as his workers brought them to him. Even from the side, Lenora could see that the expression on the young man’s face was none too pleased.
“I’m afraid you blew it, Miss Stone,” he said icily. “You were supposed to be here two hours ago. We have to move on to the next job now.”
“Oh, gosh,” she said. “My boss gave me the wrong address. That’s why I’m so late.” Partly true at least, Lenora thought.
He paused and turned to stare directly at Lenora and her stomach flipped. Dawna had described Raymond as a hot young landscaper, meaning much in demand for his work. Now Lenora could see that the “hot” could also apply to his looks. Raymond was heart-stoppingly handsome, with chiseled chocolate features and a perfect build—not too bulky, not too thin. It was a physique borne of hard outdoor work, not from spending a lot of time with machines in a gym.
“You trying to tell me that you been wandering around looking for us for more than two hours?” Raymond’s voice was so full of agitation and doubt that Lenora quickly forgot how a
ttractive he was. All she could think of was defending herself and getting some shots for the magazine.
“You’re right, not exactly,” she said. “I got a late start. But, um, can you give me maybe twenty minutes of your time? All I need to get is—”
Raymond shook his head adamantly. “That’s not happening,” he said, interrupting her. “We can’t just run back over to the fountain and pose for you. We’d have to lug all this equipment back up there. No way, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart,” Lenora muttered, ticked off at his stubbornness.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She decided to keep her thoughts to herself. She was already on his bad side. Her pride would have to take a backseat for now, in the interests of her job. “You don’t have to take all of your things back over there, just—”
Raymond held a hand up in her face. “Sorry. Maybe you didn’t hear me right the first time so I’ll repeat. Not happening. I’m a busy man. I don’t have that kinda time.”
What an arrogant prick, Lenora thought as she lowered the camera bag from her shoulder to the pavement in agonizing defeat. He might be drop-dead gorgeous, but he was also an asshole. “Do you have to be so damn difficult?” she countered as she placed her hands on her hips. “You ought to be glad someone wants to feature you and your work.”
“Come again?” he said, blinking with surprise at her sudden change of tone.
Lenora shifted heavily from one foot to the other. Now where the hell did that outburst come from? Was she trying to ruin any smidgen of a chance she might have with him? Had she forgotten that her boss had threatened to fire her if she kept screwing up?
“Sorry,” she said, tightening her lips. “It’s been a rough morning.”
“Tell me about it,” he said curtly as he opened the door to his truck.
“Do you mind telling me where you’re headed next?” she asked timidly.
He shook his head at her in disbelief. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you, Ms. Stone?” She could see him turning her question over in his mind. “The Moss Building over by Johns Hopkins,” he finally said. “It’s not a nice location on the waterfront like this one here, but they need some landscaping out in back of the building.”
Lenora nodded. It didn’t sound nearly as attractive a site as this, but she didn’t have much choice at this point. She had to get some images of Raymond and his crew on this camera. “I’ll find it. Mind if I meet you there and get a few shots? I promise not to take long and I’ll stay out of your way.”
Raymond smiled reluctantly. “Normally I’d say no. But I’m starting to take pity on you, you seem so desperate. Meet us over there and we’ll see if the owners will give you the okay, but I can’t promise you nothing.”
Lenora cleared her throat and resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. She didn’t need a lecture or pity. But she had screwed up badly with him, not to mention her boss. “I appreciate it.”
Raymond nodded. “Sure thing. Just don’t get too excited. You got to get permission, and there’s a good chance they won’t give it to you on such short notice.”
She wanted to tell him that she realized all of that. She had done this kind of thing countless times before. Instead, she quietly made her way back to her car.
As fine as Raymond was, he was annoying as hell. Like a lot of real attractive men, he was not only arrogant but cocky as well. Thank goodness her boyfriend Gerald was more the intellectual type. Some would consider him geeky. Gerald wasn’t strikingly handsome like Raymond, but he was pleasing enough to the eye and clean-cut, preferring suits and open-collared shirts.
She picked her cell phone out of the side pocket of her camera bag and dialed Gerald’s number. She needed to let him know that she would not be able to cook for him that evening since she would likely have to work late. She and Gerald had dated now for nearly three years, and Lenora was more than ready to take the relationship to the next level. She just needed to convince Gerald that it was time. She hadn’t pressed him to commit up to now. But the big four-zero was on the horizon, and she was starting to think that she needed to insist that it was time for them to jump the broom.
Almost all of her girlfriends were hitched or at least had been at one time. Her close college girlfriend Alise was married to a dentist and had children in high school. And even though her old college roommate Monica was single now, she had been married once. Lenora was one of the few who had never walked down the aisle.
Alise kept telling Lenora not to waste another year with Gerald. If he wasn’t ready to get married after all this time, Lenora needed to move on. But Lenora didn’t want to give up on Gerald. She loved him and knew that he loved her. He had a little commitment phobia, but Lenora was sure it was temporary. He worked as an accountant at a public relations firm that he started with two partners. The firm had been doing very well, with clients in Maryland and Washington, D.C., until the recent economic downturn. Now it was struggling, and Gerald and his partners had to put in more and more hours to keep the business afloat. He said he wanted to wait until the business was more secure before taking their relationship to the next level, and Lenora believed him.
Besides, she would have a hard time finding anyone better than Gerald. A man as good-looking or exciting as Raymond, for example, would never look at her romantically. She wasn’t beautiful or rich or famous. What she lacked in looks she thought she made up for in personality, but she wasn’t going to kid herself that she was a super catch. She figured she was lucky to have Gerald, and she intended to hold on to him.
As soon as she pulled up into the rear parking lot of the Moss Building, Lenora knew she was in trouble. It was in a rough neighborhood of Baltimore and not nearly as photogenic as the fountains and gardens near the waterfront. In fact, the place looked downright depressing, with overgrown shrubbery, grass nearly a foot tall, and weeds sprouting everywhere. Still, she exited the car, her Nikon poised and ready to shoot as Raymond and his crew began to climb out of their trucks. The minute she put the viewfinder up to her eye, Raymond lifted a hand and walked toward her.
“Hold up,” he said impatiently. “I think you need to get permission first.” Lenora lowered the camera. “And good to see you again, too, Raymond,” she said sarcastically. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“I just want to be sure we do this right.” He paused in front of her and placed his hands firmly on his hips, daring her to take a shot.
“You don’t have to freak out,” she said. “I’m going to get permission in a minute. I’m just taking some test shots first to get a feel for the lighting.”
She put the camera back up to her eye, and he reached up and covered the lens with his palm. “Test shot or whatever. You still need to get permission first. I don’t want to jeopardize my work around here.”
The nerve of this guy, Lenora thought as she lowered the camera once again. She stared at him angrily.
“Look, we do this the right way or we don’t do it at all,” he said.
“I think I know how to do my job,” she snapped.
“I’m beginning to wonder,” he snarled.
She abruptly threw her camera over her shoulder with the strap. What a complete asshole, she thought. But the last thing she wanted was to get into a full-blown argument with a subject, especially one she had already messed up badly with. “Fine,” she said. “Where do I go to get permission? Who do I talk to?”
“The building manager,” he said. “Dude named Steve Odell. He’s in Room 199 right off the back entrance there.”
“Be right back.” She marched off in the direction he’d indicated.
“Sure. And I need to see something in writing from him before you start,” Raymond shouted after her as he and his work crew began to remove tools and equipment from the trucks.
“Pompous bastard,” Lenora cursed under her breath and made her way up the path toward the building’s rear entrance. As she approached the back door, a balding, middle-aged
man in slacks and a wrinkled cotton shirt exited a side door and walked toward Raymond. Lenora paused, wondering if that could be the building manager. She looked toward Raymond and noticed that he was signaling for her to return to the parking lot.
As she approached the men, Steve handed Raymond a paper to sign, and then Raymond introduced her to Steve. They shook hands and Lenora handed him her business card and explained why she was there. “It shouldn’t take much time to get what I need,” she said. “Thirty minutes to an hour at the most. I want to…”
Lenora paused in midsentence when Steve started to shake his head vehemently. “Out of the question,” Steve said. “I doubt the new owners would want anyone taking pictures of the grounds in this deplorable state. In fact I’m sure they wouldn’t.”
“Let me explain how this would work,” Lenora said. “I can take before shots now and return later for the after shots. So there will also be some photographs of the grounds after Raymond’s work is completed. We’ll show how Raymond transforms the property.”
Steve was still shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. I have to get permission from the owners first.”
“How soon can you do that?” Lenora asked.
Steve sputtered. “Not now, that’s for sure. I’m busy with other things.”
Lenora took out her cell phone. “If you give me the name and number of the owner, I can call.”
Raymond folded his arms and watched in fascination. Lenora knew she was acting desperate, but now she was desperate.
“He’s a busy man, too,” Steve protested.
“Oh, I’m sure he is, but it’s worth a try,” she said. “We might all be surprised by the outcome. What harm can come of it?”
“She doesn’t take no for an answer,” Raymond explained to the building manager.
“Not when I really want something,” Lenora added.
“Well, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to take no this time,” Steve said. “The owner’s out of the country traveling around Europe with his family, so he isn’t easy to reach. And I’m not willing to bother him for this.” With that, Steve waved at Raymond and walked back toward the building.
Money Can't Buy Love Page 2
