by Mark Carver
Cameron frowned and looked up at Robyn, who hastily swathed cherry red lipstick across her lips.
“Mr. McConnell,” she said loudly, like a teacher calling a student to the front of the class. "Come in please.”
Cameron snuck a final glance at the receptionist and, on impulse, gave her a wink. The girl beamed, and Cameron’s heart fluttered. This was too easy…
Robyn shut the door and stepped around him, her hand trailing across his back as she rounded the desk.
“You’re looking mighty fine this morning, Cameron,” she cooed, staring at him hungrily.
Cameron’s masculine confidence wilted like a dead flower.
“Um, thanks. You’re…looking lovely this morning, too.”
Robyn leaned her head back and chuckled. “'Lovely.’ Haven’t heard that word spoken outside of a movie in a long time.”
She gave him an approving nod. “And thank you.”
Cameron looked at the very uncomfortable-looking chair positioned in front of Robyn’s sprawling desk. She caught his glance and motioned towards the chair.
“Please, sit.”
As Cameron sat down, he took a moment to scan the room. He had a hard time believing this was in fact her office. She was slinky and smooth, but the office looked like it had been decorated in the 1970s by a middle-aged Hollywood bigwig. The desk was massive with an office chair to match, and the wall was littered with photos of Robyn at every kind of party and awards show imaginable. A large ficus tree struggled in the corner, but there was hardly a woman’s touch to be found anywhere. Perhaps all of Robyn’s feminine instincts were directed towards herself…
The way she looked at him now made Cameron think of a cat sitting on the lap of a villain in one of the James Bond films, flicking its tail and eyeing its prey with absolute self-confidence.
At least she was dressed appropriately this time. Then he remembered the man who had just left, the silly grin plastered on his face. And Robyn’s smudged lipstick.
Cameron shook his head to clear his mind. He knew all too well how she could put that kind of smile on a man’s face, and he didn’t want any distractions now.
“You sounded pretty enthusiastic on the phone,” Robyn said, taking a small sip from a large coffee mug branded with her firm’s logo.
“Uh, yeah,” Cameron answered after clearing his throat. “I don’t want to be the kind of customer who sits back and expects you to wave a magic wand and make me into a superstar overnight.”
Robyn’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Well, that’s a refreshing attitude. And most clients expect me to do just that. They usually don’t realize that they shoulder a big part of the responsibility. I’m not the creator; I’m the facilitator.”
Cameron coughed again. “Right. So anyway, it hit me the other day when I was here in LA to…to meet you. Before we met at the hotel, I had some time to kill, so I decided to check out the hobby shops.”
Robyn already looked bored. “Is that right? What happened next?”
Cameron balked at her tone, then continued. “Well, when I went in, the clerk recognized me, or, well, he recognized me after I told him who I was – "
“Because you hide like a troll under a bridge.”
“I don’t…” Cameron stifled the anger flaring inside him. “Perhaps I do, but that’s beside the point. The point is, this kid recognized me, and told a bunch of his friends, and pretty soon, the shop was filled with customers. My fans.”
Robyn’s eyebrows rose a little higher. “Interesting,” she said, and she meant it. “What then?”
“I signed a bunch of autographs and took a bunch of pictures.” He whipped out his phone and showed her the screen.
“Here, check it out.”
Robyn leaned forward as Cameron scrolled through the Twitter photos marked with his name’s hashtag. A strange smile that was both sinister and excited spread across her face.
“And all this just…happened? No planning?”
Cameron shook his head. “Friends just told their friends. They even auctioned an autographed sword for double its retail value.”
Robyn leaned back in her chair. The leather creaked luxuriously. “So what do you have in mind, Mr. McConnell?”
“Okay look, I know I look like a scary guy, and maybe I am a little bit. But I had fun at that shop, connecting with the fans, taking goofy pictures. I look at a lot of the guys in my industry and they’re all high on themselves, as if they forge lightning bolts for Zeus or something. They’re arrogant and aloof, only coming down from their mountains to mingle with the riff-raff at important conventions. They cultivate a sort of mystique about them, but they’re just regular guys who give the impression that they’re gods. Kind of like rock stars, wearing sunglasses everywhere they go, never smiling, refusing interviews left and right. But I want to be different.”
“How so?”
“Well, it was obvious from people’s reactions at that hobby shop that my tattoo was pretty shocking. In the fantasy world, a formidable appearance is essential. Just look at all the characters in the games, or the covers of the books. This tattoo gives me a very striking appearance, and people were in awe.”
“But you’re not a nobody, Cameron. People know you already, and you probably would have caused a commotion if you went in there with your un-tattooed face.”
“Perhaps, but the tattoo was certainly a huge draw. Everyone wanted to take pictures with me, and the tattoo was talked about almost as much as my weapons. They were drawn to me by my reputation, but also by my appearance.”
Robyn steepled her fingers. “So what are you getting at?”
Cameron took a deep breath. “If I were a fan in the shop that day, I would have thought, ‘Whoa, this guy looks gnarly, but here he is taking photos and cracking jokes!’ I could see it on their faces: they were surprised. They were expecting me to act like some bigshot rock star, but the fact that I wasn’t was even more appealing. That’s what I want to do, to show everyone that I’m different from the rest of the guys in the business.”
Robyn narrowed her eyes. “I’m not following you, exactly.”
“Look, I know I’m a good swordsmith. But I don’t want people to think I live on Mount Olympus. I want to be elite, but not aloof. I want to have the most interesting appearance, but also be the most approachable. I want to connect with the fans, not just at conventions, but at the small trade shows and hobby shops.”
“The People’s Sword Maker?” Robyn said with a chuckle.
“Exactly. You have no idea how huge this step is for me. I’m not a recluse, but I’ve always liked my privacy. I live alone, I don’t go out and party, but the other day, being with all those people… It felt cleansing, you know? Like…”
“A king among his subjects?”
Cameron smiled sheepishly and looked at the floor.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Robyn said, rising from her chair and walking around the desk. “You are very good at what you do, and there’s no reason to be shy about it. I can see that people already think highly of you, and I think you’re really on to something here. I see it all the time: people get too full of themselves and look down their noses at everyone. It can work that way, because people naturally gravitate towards confidence, but after a while, people get tired of being looked down upon, and they move on. If you can maintain your ‘eliteness’ but also let people know that you value them as your fans, you may just hit the jackpot.”
Cameron looked up at her and smiled. “Really?”
Robyn grinned slyly, then leaned down and kissed him hard. Her lips smacked loudly as she stood up, flicking her black hair over her shoulders. Cameron was stunned but he certainly didn’t regret the kiss.
“You’re an interesting guy, Mr. McConnell,” Robyn said as she walked slowly towards the window, letting Cameron’s gaze linger on her slim figure. She turned around with flashing eyes.
“And I am going to make you a superstar.”
CHAPTER 12
Cameron
yanked his front door open just before Chucky knocked it off his hinges.
“Dude!” Chucky cried, smothering Cameron in a sweaty bear hug. “You’re everywhere, man!”
“What do you mean?” Cameron asked as he closed the door behind his friend.
Chucky spread his arms wide. “That hobby shop party for one. Can’t believe you didn’t invite me!”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I promise I’ll bring you along to the next one.”
Chucky’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You mean you’re going to do that again?”
Cameron nodded, amused at his enthusiasm.
“When?” Chucky asked. He sounded like a child who had just been told he was going to the circus.
“Not sure,” Cameron answered as he led the way to the kitchen. He popped the tops off of two cold beers and handed one to Chucky, who frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
Cameron took a deep breath, then informed him of his meeting with Robyn. He and Robyn had talked for more than an hour that day, and they both had become infected with each other’s excitement. Robyn was captivated about the challenge of entering a world that she was completely unfamiliar with, calling it a “nerd-ruled alternate universe,” but when Cameron told her how much cash those nerds throw around, that hungry look flashed in her eyes.
She was also very well-connected in Hollywood, and she knew of a few major fantasy and sci-fi pictures that were in development but were still hush-hush. She said that she would look into the possibility of securing a design contract for Cameron, especially since he already had his foot in the door with that commission from the film a couple years back.
Cameron could also see the spark of creativity flaring to life within her, and though it was channeled in a much different direction than his was, he still marveled at the energy that she exuded. His discomfort around her melted away, and she caught him staring at her a few times. Of course her body held no secrets from him, but this was a different kind of stare. It wasn’t lust; it was the seed of attraction.
He had felt cheap and tawdry after their romp at the Bennington, but there was something different this time. There was little doubt, however, that she was a sex addict, and she probably needed professional help.
No wonder Toby was so smitten.
Cameron did feel a small twinge of guilt about the secret he kept hidden from his friend who was responsible for bringing him and Robyn together in the first place. He wondered how Toby would react if he found out about the two of them. He certainly couldn’t have any illusions about Robyn’s monogamy, but sharing a fling with one’s friend felt like overstepping the boundaries.
The important thing was that he didn’t know, and Cameron had no intention of telling him. He wasn’t expecting this to go anywhere with Robyn, except professionally, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was enjoying it.
Mindy hardly entered his thoughts these days. It was easy since he still hadn’t seen her since their last conversation, and it was only with neighborly curiosity that he wondered where she was. He would send her a text tomorrow if she didn’t show up, just to tell her that he noticed she hadn’t been around lately and if she needed him to water her flowers or something. He didn’t have any intentions about her either, but it was still nice to have options.
Something inside him winced. Was that all she was to him now? An option?
Cameron gulped a hasty mouthful of beer to wash away unpleasant reflections. He concentrated on Chucky’s wildly dancing eyebrows and the flabby cheeks that quivered with each excited smile.
“Dude, that sounds awesome!” Chucky slammed the rest of the beer and wiped his mouth. “I can feel it, man. You’re going to blow up huge!”
Cameron had to make an attempt at modesty. “Come on, I just got a facial tattoo and met a well-connected publicist.”
“That’s more than almost every other person on earth has.”
Cameron had to admit he was right. Things were looking pretty rosy right now. The tattoo wasn’t the cause, but it certainly started the ball rolling, giving him the confidence to carry himself to where he was now.
He glanced at the kitchen window, which was a mirror against the creeping darkness outside, and he stared at the face that still seemed to belong to a stranger.
“Cameron?”
Cameron glanced back at his friend. “Sorry, what?”
“I said when are you going to the shops?”
“Probably this weekend,” Cameron said after thinking a moment. “I got a lot of fan buzz from my appearance at that hobby shop downtown, and I want to keep the momentum going.”
Chucky rubbed his hands with glee. “This is so awesome. Stealth personal appearances. Where is he going to pop up next?”
“That’s the idea. I just hope people will be excited when I show up.”
“Dude, I got that covered. I’m going to case all the shops in the Valley, asking if they’ve got your merchandise, just getting your name on their minds. Then you’ll show up and they’ll be like, ‘Whoa, some guy was just in here asking for you!’”
Cameron smiled. “Thanks man. You rock.”
Chucky returned the smile, adding a smug little sneer. “I know. You can thank me by bringing me to all the wild parties you’re going to get invited to.”
“Parties?”
Chucky held up his phone which displayed one of Cameron’s wild photos with the fans. “Come on dude, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Once word gets around that you make awesome weapons and you have the sickest tattoo anyone has ever seen, people will be begging you to show up at their cribs. And you’ve got to start hitting the conventions, man. I’m telling you, that’s where the serious dough is.”
“I know,” Cameron said, rubbing his brow. “Robyn and I talked about it. If I’m going to become a public figure, I have to make myself public. I just...”
“Why do you hate going to those things?”
Cameron studied his hand resting on the marble countertop. “Because...because he’s always there.”
“He?” Chucky’s eyes widened with understanding. “Ohhh... Dude, you’re going to have to face him sooner or later. You can’t let him hold you hostage like this. And come on man, you’re on the way up. You’re way cooler than him now. He’s probably green with envy.”
Cameron looked away and said nothing.
Chucky slid off the stool and walked to the fridge. “He’s a ham,” he continued as he retrieved another beer and popped it open with a fshh. “You’re the real deal. He’s the one who gyped you, not the other way around.”
Seeing Shane Calhoun’s face in his mind made Cameron see red. He clenched his fist around the beer bottle, then relaxed. Chucky was right. He wasn’t going to be able to hide in hobby shops forever. He needed to steal some of Shane’s thunder.
The same thunder that Shane originally stole from him.
He let out a long, slow breath and looked at Chucky. “You hungry?”
Chucky’s face broke into a broad smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”
****
That night, Cameron lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His head was buzzing. Chucky’s infectious excitement, Robyn’s sly confidence, the internet pulsing with his pictures... Chucky was right; he was on the way up. And he felt like a giddy schoolgirl.
At the wings joint where Chucky had inhaled three plates of the hottest wings on their menu, Cameron realized that he was noticing people staring at him less and less. Their shock wasn’t diminishing; he was becoming less aware of it, like a monkey at the zoo who ignores the children shouting at it and rattling the cage bars.
Of course, not all of the attention was negative. He caught the eye of a few hotties scattered around, and one of the waitresses even wrote her number on the receipt. He wasn’t going to call her; she looked a little too rough for his tastes, sporting several tattoos and an array of piercings. She probably had some that weren’t visible.
..
Cameron had to laugh at himself. He was intimidated by a rough-and-tumble vixen who obviously wasn’t afraid of pain, while he was the one walking around with a face that could get him a job as a villain in the next James Bond movie. Maybe he wasn’t as extreme as he looked. Maybe he was looking for something a little more down-to-earth.
Like Mindy…
Cameron rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and it annoyed the hell out of him. He had to admit that he liked her, and she was cute and sexy and nice to be around. But he couldn’t understand why she always had to pop up in his thoughts. He wasn’t lonely or anything, and it was obvious that he could easily find someone to scratch his masculine itch whenever he felt the urge. She wasn’t dazzlingly brilliant, though she certainly wasn’t a bimbo, and the two of them had pretty much nothing in common, besides sharing a property line.
So what was it, then?
Cameron sat up quickly, scowling at the Caribbean travel poster on the opposite wall. He needed to draw something, to clear his head.
He got up and went to his angled drawing desk. The seed of a new design had been taking root in his imagination for several days now, and he knew that the best way to get it to bloom was to give it the attention it needed. He snatched a pencil and leaned over the paper, sketching quickly with a loose wrist.
Mindy really wasn’t that special. This was California, after all...any park, beach or shopping mall was crammed with perky blonde babes strutting their stuff. Though Mindy wasn’t like that... She was hot and she knew it, but she wasn’t an attention whore flaunting her assets or prancing around like she was always on a catwalk. She was just...real. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and she wasn’t ravenous like Robyn. She just loved running and sunshine and barbecues.
There weren’t too many girls like that, in California or anywhere.
Cameron stopped drawing and glanced at his phone. She had been gone for nearly a week. And he missed her. Exactly how he missed her was still a mystery, but he was starting to feel a little worried.
He grabbed the phone but his thumb paused over the screen. He glanced up at the digital clock on the wall. 11:43. It would be very easily misinterpreted if he sent her a message this late. He could send her a quick message on Facebook, but that would require going to the living room and firing up the computer. Besides, he hadn’t even sent her a friend request yet. He hadn’t even looked for her on Facebook or Twitter or anywhere.
