by Kylie Scott
“Right? It’ll be great.” I smiled. “Plus he will be totally a hundred-and-ten-percent into me. Think I’m a mighty and benevolent goddess, worship the ground I walk on. That sort of thing.”
“You do know it’s possible to find a decent man who thinks you’re a queen, but doesn’t bore you to sleep, right?”
“Eh. Why risk it? Besides, I could do with more beauty sleep. Sleep is under-rated.” I neglected to mention how a certain someone had managed to successfully get me off to sleep just yesterday. But Ziggy definitely wouldn’t fit my new monotonous requirement for all future boyfriends. Not a chance.
“When it all goes to hell and you eventually come to your senses, don’t say I didn’t try to rescue you from a life of tedium, crafts, outdoor activities, and bad sex,” said Lena with a pout. She had a great pout. Almost as good as mine.
“And quiet adoration. Don’t forget the quiet adoration.”
With a huff of disgust, she marched back into the main room. And in doing so, walked straight past Ziggy and Bon. Two bodyguards who were more than close enough to have heard every last word we’d just said. In fact, Ziggy was now staring straight at me. Shit.
“Hi.” I raised a hand. “Having a nice time?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Great.”
The big man standing next to him cleared his throat.
“Miss Cooper, let me to introduce my brother to you,” said Ziggy, pulling on the cuff of his shirt. A nervous habit, perhaps? I don’t know.
Bon stepped forward with his hand out, every bit as tall, dark, and handsome as his brother. But with a hint of the devil in his smile. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m a big fan of your work.”
“Thank you. Are you a bodyguard too?”
“I am,” he said and there was something in his tone. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to work with you, but Ziggy tells me he has it covered.”
“Ziggy has been great.”
Bon slapped his brother on the back so hard Ziggy winced. What the hell was going on here? Sibling rivalry or something? As an only child, families with more than one kid kind of fascinated me. I looked like Mom so it wasn’t about having someone I resembled. But I’d never had anyone around my own age to bicker about the silly everyday stuff or to lean on when times were tough. Someone who grew up with me and came from the same background. Not that I suffered. Mom and Gran are and were my bedrock. But it would have been nice to have a brother or sister.
“I’m sure you both get asked this all the time, but I take it your parents were big music fans?” I asked.
Ziggy nodded. “Mom’s a rock chick from way back. Bowie and AC/DC are her favorites.”
“We were pretty much raised on that music,” said Bon. “And hey, at least there weren’t five other kids in the class with the same name.”
“True enough. And years later, here you both are, surrounded by rock’and’roll.”
Ziggy opened his mouth to speak, but Bon got in first: “Yeah, but not in the way Mom was hoping. She was trying to bring up a couple of boys who could wield axes in the musical sense.”
“I see. Not axes in the actual sense, like you two.”
“Exactly.”
“Except by axes he means guns,” said Ziggy.
I nodded. “Gotcha.”
Bon gave me another warm smile while Ziggy frowned at his brother. Interesting. This conversation had the air of a territorial pissing competition. Only it was hard to figure out if it was due to competitive business stuff, general sibling rivalry, or what. His brother sure could make him react, however.
“Not to kill the mood,” said Bon, “but I’m sorry to hear about your situation. There are some assholes out there.”
“Language,” hissed his brother.
“It’s fine.” I looked away for a moment. “And yes, there are.”
“Glad my brother’s got your back through this trying time. You couldn’t ask for anyone more capable.” At this, he gave said brother another of those evil back slaps.
“Thanks,” said Ziggy, somewhat drily.
“Though if he ever needs a day off, I’d be happy to step in and watch you, Miss Cooper.”
Ziggy’s jaw firmed. “She doesn’t need you watching her.”
“Just offering.”
“You’re being unprofessional.”
“How am I being unprofessional, ensuring that our client’s needs are being met?”
“Thanks anyway, brother. You’ve got enough on your plate. Luke or Adelaide can cover if necessary.” If Ziggy’s eyes had shot out laser beams, I would not have been surprised. Well, I would have, but not by much. This interaction was nothing less than fascinating.
“There’s a female bodyguard on staff?” I asked.
“She’s busy.” And that was it. That was all Ziggy said. He and his big blank handsome face.
Shit. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to imply…you’re doing a wonderful job. There’s no need to bring anyone else in.”
Bon smirked, but tried to hide it. That was about enough for me.
“Lovely to meet you,” I said.
Ziggy nodded. “Miss.”
“Miss Cooper,” his brother added.
I got my butt back to the couch and retrieved my drink. But I could feel his eyes on me. All damn night, Ziggy continued to watch.
CHAPTER SIX
“Nice bodyguard.”
I frowned. “Why is everyone always commenting on my bodyguard?”
“Because he’s hot,” said Abigael, the hair stylist and make-up artist.
“Yeah, but we’re around hot people all the time. It’s basically kind of the point of our industry.”
At this, the petite blonde stopped and pondered.
The man himself stood at the other end of the large room, out of the way near the coffee and pastries table. Not that he was indulging. I’d have to steal an extra almond croissant to eat later to make up for his lack of pastry love. Once more, his face seemed set in stone. His big body remained still while his gaze constantly wandered the area. We hadn’t talked much on the drive over to the studio, even though it was on the other side of town. After last night’s weirdness with his brother, and the renewed attention of the paparazzi, and more lack of sleep, I didn’t feel like chatting. Truth was, the man set me on edge. This entire situation set me on edge. And today, I needed to focus on work.
So I’d guzzled caffeine while Abigael fixed the bags and dark shadows beneath my eyes with eye masks and various other tricks. Lucky for me, the woman was magic with a messy face. She’d spent years living in Los Angeles fixing party people the day after, getting them ready to face the world and the camera. Her skills were legendary.
“I think it’s all the big dick energy he’s giving off,” she finally announced.
“Huh.”
“Now stop talking. Lip gloss touch-up and you’re good to go.”
I sat in the make-up chair clad in a long white robe. My hair was a dark silky fall straight down my back to my bra strap. My eyes were smoky and my lips were red. A nice sexy look.
Abigael finished and stepped back with a happy smile. “You’re my masterpiece.”
“You say that to everyone you work on.”
“Yeah, but I mean it this time. Damn, I’m good.”
I laughed.
Abigael was great to work with. She always had a funny story about a bridezilla or similar to spill during the hour or more I spent in the chair. She touched up the lip gloss then fixed a few spots where my skin had either reddened or darkened.
“Stop frowning,” she mumbled. “Not that I don’t blame you with the stuff going on right now.”
“You’ve been on the gossip sites, huh?”
“Didn’t need to. It’s the talk of the town.”
I groaned. “Slow news week. This too shall pass.”
“Sorry,” she said. “You probably don’t want to talk about it. My bad.”
“No, it’s fine.” I stretched my neck when she
stopped touching up my face with concealer for a moment. “There’s a lot going on right now. Kind of hard not to think about it. I tried to keep it quiet, but that clearly didn’t work. All of last night I just lay awake trying to figure out who it could be.”
“So what do you know about him?”
I took a deep breath, thinking it through. “He knows my proper address. Not too difficult to find out, but means he’s not an amateur sending stuff care of my agent. Mind you, is there even such a thing as an amateur stalker?”
“Good question.”
“And he knows stuff about me. The lingerie was my label and the right size. He also has access to cow hearts, though probably he could just have got them from the butcher.”
“Blech.”
“Right?” I shivered. “He’s clever and opportunistic, handing stuff off to the delivery guy and paying him to bring it in. But at the same time, him coming to the building again shows he’s willing to take some risks. There were a few ways that little stunt might not have worked out.”
Abigael just frowned. It was a frowning kind of topic of discussion.
“He’s bloodthirsty, obviously. Likes using a knife.”
“You’re freaking me out,” said Abi. “This is why I don’t watch murder documentaries.”
“Imagine being in my shoes. It’s always at the back of my mind, making me jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof as Elizabeth Taylor would say.”
Abi gave me a small smile. It was a shitty situation. No hiding that. She finished up my face while Lena stood in front of the shooting area with its all-white surrounds. This room had no windows to let in outside light. She had another room upstairs with large industrial style windows that was cool to work with. Air-conditioners were doing their best, but I still felt the heat from the lights. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the fake eyelashes and the brightness.
“I like this look.” Zane, my co-designer for the lingerie line, took my robe. “The demi-cup bra was a nice idea. Goes well with the boy shorts.”
“We work magic together, dude.”
Zane sniffed. “Don’t call me dude. Dude.”
I held back a smile. “You were right, the trompe l’oeil embroidery is beautiful in light blue. And I like the opaque back on the panties.”
“Such a sweet set. You look almost virginal,” sighed Lena, lifting her camera to her face.
“Oh, I’m afraid those days are long gone, sweetie,” said Zane with a smile.
“Nice. Very nice.” I mock frowned. “You people are supposed to be my friends.”
“Please. Fashion means never having friends. Now stand there and look pretty.”
Lizzo played loud and proud over the stereo, setting the mood. I could only make out the shadow of Ziggy’s face due to all the lighting and him standing near the back of the room. But then he stepped forward far enough for me to see him and holy shit. The look in his dark eyes made me catch my breath.
And I definitely wasn’t imagining the I want to eat you from top to toe looks. Not even a little.
Though, now that I thought about it, he’d liked the look of me all made up for the party last night. With Abigael the wonder make-up artist having worked me over and the addition of some amazing scanty lingerie, odds were, a heterosexual male (of which I was pretty certain he was one) in this particular situation would like me even more. That’s all it was. Probably. Anyway, points to me for cracking his professional façade.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, please keep thinking about it.” Lena busily worked her camera, clicking off shot after shot. “The lusty dreamy look on your face is freaking perfect.”
“Agreed,” said Zane.
Suddenly, I felt exposed in a way that had nothing to do with standing there in my underwear. But what could I do? Fuck hiding. I wasn’t going to try and make myself small for anyone. I was Mae Cooper, goddammit. And if I was into a dude, then so be it, that dude was one damn lucky man. Though it might have been simpler had he not been standing right there staring at me while I worked. Oh well. Such is life. Lena gave me more instructions and I did my job.
The next piece was a risqué though slightly less revealing lace trim chemise in fire engine red. Abigael put my hair back into a messy ponytail for the piece. Same as before, Ziggy neither stepped back into the shadows nor took his gaze off me. I felt very protected. And ever so slightly turned on. A sensation I didn’t tend to experience at shoots generally speaking. You might flirt and play a little, but it never went beyond that. For me at least. However, Ziggy and his heated looks were driving me straight over the edge. A problem since damp panties in the current situation would be not only wrong but distressingly obvious.
Unfortunately, after the chemise came a beautiful black semi-sheer plunging demi-bralette with a lace thong. My breasts were barely contained, let alone my behind. One deep breath and there’d be flesh in everyone’s faces. With the thong also came a super embarrassing though not uncommon in this industry moment. Having a zit on your butt covered with concealer in front of a bunch of people wasn’t so great. But these things tended to happen with skimpy swimwear or ladies’ intimate apparel. Such was life. I tried to stay professional about it and crack my usual jokes. Emphasis on tried. At least there was a bathroom/changing room for the actual switching of outfits. Ziggy was probably seeing enough of my tits and ass for one day. More might get seriously awkward.
“We have a rather pointed and prominent nipple situation,” announced Zane at around this point. And here came more awkward. “Very pretty, Mae. But for this shoot we need to keep the focus on the fashion. Abi, you got the stickers?”
My day was just going from strength to strength. “Tell the truth, Zane. You’re just jealous you don’t get to shove your nipples in people’s faces on a regular basis.”
“Actually, you have a point.” He grinned. “I bet I’d be amazing at it. Give you a run for your money.”
I laughed.
Next came the white balconette bodysuit with embroidery on the cups I’d affectionately named “bang the bride.” My hair had been styled into a fancy windblown up-do. We liked to mix up the looks, keep things interesting. Subtly change the story being told in each picture. Ziggy’s expression this time around was especially gratifying. His cheekbones stood out in stark relief, his jaw fixed. The man just stared. And he made it next to impossible to keep my eyes off of him, let alone to not think about hot sex. With him, explicitly.
For certain, he had to be reacting to the ultra-glamorous model Mae Cooper. Not the boring old clumsy forgetful real me who wanted to be loved. Didn’t need the attention, but I sure did want it. I had to keep reminding myself of this oh so salient fact when it came to Ziggy’s attentions. Protecting my heart in this situation was the wise thing to do.
You’d think a model would have better self-esteem, but my current hang-ups came from an unfortunate reality. The ex hadn’t even liked me taking off my makeup. Said it made me look so much prettier. I know, I know. I should have shot him in the crotch rather than deal with his bullshit. Changing my Netflix account password after we broke up was a pretty glorious feeling, I’ll tell you. I timed it for the day the new season of his favorite show came out. With a bit of luck he was two episodes in when the universe came crashing down around him. Serves him right. He’d always been cheap with the exception of the stupendously stupid flowers he’d so recently sent. Just because he earned millions didn’t make him any less of an ass.
But back to the topic at hand, the last thing I needed would be to accidentally deliberately fall straight back into bed with someone who got real me and fake me mixed up. Then there was the part where Ziggy currently worked for me and all. I was sort of his boss. It wouldn’t be right for all sorts of responsible adult reasons for me to take him up on the surprisingly heated looks he was throwing my way today.
Stupid hormones and thoughts and feelings. Why did we even need them? All they ever did was cause trouble. Me and my vibrator definitely had a hot date lined up f
or tonight. First, however, maybe I should give Sam a call and suggest Ziggy needed a day off. I know I did. A little distance right now might be wise. Get his hotness out of my face for a while.
Lena finally lowered her camera. “You were on fire today.”
“Thanks.” This made sense what with the excessive heat happening in my panties and all.
“We are going to sell some lingerie, I tell you!”
“Good to hear.” I smiled, taking my robe back from Zane.
It’d been a long and confusing day. Though the mental aerobics pondering Ziggy and his behavior sure did wonders for taking my mind off the horrible deliveries and evil stalker person. That mess had hardly crossed my mind at all.
I got dressed back into my black tank top, skinny jeans, strappy sandals, and big sunglasses. With the fancy hair and full make-up, if the paparazzi were still hanging around, which they inevitably would be given my luck, they’d have pretty glam shots without the need for me dressing up. Not that this was the kind of publicity I needed nor required, but I suppose it would make a change from them snapping me with my baggy eyes and shoddy clothes over the last week. That was something, at least.
There were hugs and air kisses aplenty as we finished up. Lena’s studio was in a gated area so the paparazzi were sort of milling around out beyond the gates. You’d want to be patient. Sometimes I really felt for them. It must be such a boring job, standing around for long stretches of time. Of course, you’d also want to be a bit of an invasive jerk who didn’t particularly care about people’s privacy during their times of trouble.
The sun sat low in the sky and the fresh air outside was a welcome change after all the hours of being cooped up inside. It would be nice not to be touched for a while too. Most everyone on the many shoots I’d been on had been professional and matter of fact, but getting your personal space back at the end of a shoot was a nice sensation.
It wasn’t far to the Rover. Ziggy strode slightly to the side and slightly in front of me. Guess the position kept me in the edge of his field of vision. We still weren’t really talking much today, though the mood felt thick for want of a better word. Or off, maybe?
