Beauty Shot (Hope Parish Novels Book 5) (3 page)

“Em,” I
said, laughing. “That isn’t helping.”

“I’m
sick of her always after your tail.” She giggled and gave me a
whack. “It’s a nice tail, but she’s as deep as a
coat of primer. Not your type at all.”

I was glad I had
followed my instincts and befriended this shy, laconic cowboy and
sharp-witted, needle-tongued nerdette.

Travis and I were
roommates. He hailed from Texas and was as out of place as I was. We
were the same height, six feet four, but he had black hair cut short
on the sides and longer on the top, dark blue eyes, and a bit of
facial hair on his upper lip and chin. He wore a cowboy hat and boots
I’m pretty sure he rode and roped in.

With his black
Stetson, it made him look like an outlaw. Since I was quite
comfortable with Outlaws, we hit it off. We shared a double room in
John Jay Hall. Being a social person, I didn’t want a single.
Travis, on the other hand, hadn’t wanted a double. But I think
he was happy he’d ended up with me for a roommate. We shared a
bathroom with our other suite mates, the love of rocky road ice
cream, and enjoyed the view of Manhattan from our windows.* What we
didn’t have in common was our choice of music. He was a little
bit country and I was all rock and roll. Thank God for earbuds.

Emmie I met in my
Computer 101 class. It was a nuts and bolts intro, but the girl
already knew all there was to know about the basics. I suspected she
was a world-class hacker.

She had long dark
hair that was currently up in pigtails with yellow bands, thick,
black-framed glasses way too big for her face, and a Batman T-shirt
over baggy jeans. Her favorite superheroes were the caped crusader,
of course, and the web slinger. She liked them because Batman was all
about gadgets and Spidey was a nerd. She was smart, acerbic, and knew
her stuff. But she wasn’t all over me, and she actually talked
to me like a human being instead of an object. And we won’t
even talk about her music. It was…strange. Stuff like sitars
and gongs. Very Zen.

We made the stairs,
and Emmie picked a spot that wasn’t occupied and sat down.
“Ever since you stepped on this campus, you’ve been
hounded. You know why that is, right?” she said pulling off her
backpack and opening it.

I looked at Emmie
and smiled. “My looks.”

“Nope.”
She shook her head and gave me a smart-aleck look. “That’s
what attracted them in the first place, but contrary to popular
belief, looks do not guarantee success with the female demographic.”

“What is it,
then?”

She raised her brows
and tilted her head. “It’s the
allure
of ‘maybe.’ I’ve seen you do it. There’s a
promise you might engage and that keeps them coming back for more.”

“Is that so?”
I said opening up my own backpack.

“I know your
secret, Deke.”

“You do? Huh.
What is that?”

Her look
intensified. “You have women gunning for your loins because
you’re a nice guy and you don’t want to hurt their
feelings.”

Travis and I both
burst out laughing at the “gunning for your loins”
comment.

She leaned in and
grabbed my chin. “And, you know something?” Emmie said.
“It’s the part I like most about you.”

“Travis is a
nice guy, too.”

She turned those
gray eyes on Travis and smiled. Nudging his shoulder, she said, “I
might go into a diabetic coma, here. But I really like that about
him, too.”

“Aren’t
we here to study?” Travis said, and Emmie let go of my chin
with a smirk.

Travis looked more
disgruntled than I had ever seen him before. He was usually an
easygoing guy, a man of few words, but when he talked, it was because
he had something to say.

“You look like
you could use a coffee and a chocolate chip muffin,” Emmie said
to him, giving me a what’s-up look. I shrugged.

“No thanks,”
Travis said.

“I’m
buying and I insist. Be right back.” She rose and looked at me.
“Deke?”

“Coffee, black
for me.”

“Got it. Easy,
country boy.”

Travis huffed.
“Since you’re being your usual pushy self, I’ll
have…”

“I know what
you’ll have, Travis,” she said.

As soon as Emmie was
out of earshot, I turned to Travis. “What’s up, son?”
He gave me a noncommittal look and opened his book. “Travis?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s
something. What?”

“I just guess
I thought everything would be different here. I mean, high school is
shit, especially for someone who has smarts. This is an academic
institution, a place of higher learning, and it’s the same ol’
bullshit. I expected the people at Columbia to be…”

“What? Above
petty garbage? People are people, Travis. It’s always about
popularity and looks and money. Those don’t change.”

“I guess. I
don’t like the way people treat Emmie, like she’s some
kinda ugly duckling. I think she’s beautiful.”

“Agreed. I
think she is, too.”

Travis scowled and
buried his nose in the book, and I had to wonder if it was only how
Emmie was treated that had him riled up.

That morning I
planned to get up early.

Verity and Boone
were already in town. Boone had texted me the night before that
Fashion Week was kicking off today, and Verity and Minnie’s
collection was showing this afternoon at two. I wasn’t going to
miss a chance to see Boone and Verity, and, as a bonus, Brax was here
with River Pearl, who was walking the runway in their show.

But more important,
this would give me an in with Minnie, too. She was screening my calls
and avoiding me, I was sure of it. That wasn’t going to last,
and she had to know they would invite me to attend. Of course she’d
be busy with the runway show, but I was pretty sure I could get
backstage and make my move.

As soon as my alarm
went off, I was out of bed. Travis was buried beneath the covers. He
didn’t have a class until ten, but I had my eight o’clock
English class. I headed for the shower and turned on the water,
slipping under the spray. All of a sudden, I felt two soft hands on
my back, then molding over my butt. Without hesitation those hands
came around and curled over my junk.

I was so surprised I
breathed in water through my nose, burning my nostrils, and started
coughing. Swinging my head around and away from the spray, I cleared
my eyes. It was Tiffany, buck-assed naked, with her hands on me.

“Have you lost
your ever lovin’ mind?!” I bellowed, and her face went
from dreamy to alarm. “Get your hands off me!”

She backed up, but
it was too late. I was fit to be tied. “You have no boundaries,
girl. I’m not interested in you, Tiffany. I can’t say it
any plainer than that. I’m a flesh and blood man, and I get to
decide who gets to touch me, and when, and why.”

I wasn’t going
to waste my first time on her. All she really wanted was my body. She
knew nothing about me. “I’m not ruled by my dick, if
that’s your play. Don’t ever touch me again without
permission,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you do,
I’ll report you to the Resident Assistant. Now get the fuck
outta here.”

She looked
off-balance and more surprised and upset than I had ever seen her.
Then she grabbed a towel and her robe and bolted out of the bathroom.
I was shaking with anger—and it took a lot to rile me up. This
kind of thing had never happened to me before.

Girls in Suttontowne
didn’t ambush me in showers, and they didn’t take
liberties with my body or touch me when I hadn’t consented. It
was a violation, plain and simple. I had been pursued by girls, yeah.
I’ve had to handle that my whole life. And I had been cornered
a couple times in high school by aggressive girls. But here the
aggression was far more overt, and it was something I hadn’t
quite been prepared to handle. It made me feel violated. My privacy
breached.

Back in my room,
Travis took one look at me and said, “What’s wrong?”

I sat down on the
bed. “Tiffany snuck up on me in the shower.”

“What? She was
in the guy’s shower? Shoot, boy. What did she do?”

“She put her
hands on me. On all of me.”

“Boy, howdy!
You going to report her?”

“No. I made it
clear. Should have made it clear to her sooner, but she didn’t
get the hint, Travis.”

“No, sir. I
don’t think she did. She got it now, though, right?”

“I think so.”

He walked over his
blue eyes concerned. “She’s just hot for you and doesn’t
like no for an answer, but that doesn’t give her the right to
touch you.”

I rubbed my hands
over my face and into my wet hair, wishing all of a sudden that I was
back in Suttontowne working for Boone. It had been a much simpler
life. People in Suttontowne respected me. Here it was something else.
I didn’t like it.

“Thanks,
Travis. It’ll be fine. I better get to class before I’m
late.”

He nodded.

The morning slipped
by, and I found myself on the 1 Train, exiting at Lincoln Center.
There were so many people, a teeming mass of humanity. Wasn’t
sure I would ever get used to these crowds. Or would care to.

I’d only been
in New York City for three weeks, but navigating wasn’t too
hard. It surely was intimidating, dirty, and crowded, very different
from Suttontowne, but I’d been prepared for that.

Verity had sent a
special badge to get me backstage. I found a sign that said T&O
Designs, the name that Minnie and Verity now used as their main brand
name, and credentialed my way past the Door Nazis and into the room.

The room was set up
with a pretty cool long stage with different colored lights. I’d
been very curious to see a fashion show. Whenever Verity showed me
what she was working on, I’d always thought it was pretty cool.

As soon as I walked
through a door, a woman swore at me and grabbed my jacket sleeve.
“You are late! I’ve already called your agency. It’s
a good thing you’re gorgeous, or I would fire your fine ass
right now.”

After the shower
scene this morning, I was a bit speechless. The petite Asian girl
growled at me. She actually growled. Then she dragged me over to a
rack of clothes. There were a bunch of guys already there…naked
guys getting dressed. I haven’t seen that much male skin since
the high school locker room. Some were in chairs getting their hair
spiked, some other people were running around grabbing small bottles
labeled Cristal. A person brushed past us and offered me a bottle,
but I shook my head. I didn’t need to be buzzed while all this
was going on. Where were Verity and Minnie?

“The clothes
are numbered. 1-10. All you have to do is follow the numbers. You can
count, right?”

I nodded.

“Good,”
she patted my cheek. “Easy as pie. Dante will be doing your
hair.”

Then she let me go
and started to walk away. “Wait,” I said, but she
disappeared into the crowd. I looked at the rack, realizing that she
must have me mixed up with a real model. Maybe I’d better find
Verity.

The guy next to me
gave me an amused, sidelong glance. “New to this?” he
asked. He had jet black spiked hair and dark brown eyes, looked
Hawaiian and was really fit, cut in fact. He was as naked as a jay,
and at this point, I’d already seen enough dicks to last me a
lifetime.

I nodded.

“Rule of
thumb. Someone has a headset on, you Heed Them. Obey any and all
commands.” He leaned over and said in a stage whisper, “I
think they have a line straight to the underworld.”

He flashed a smile,
and I laughed. “Is this a different planet?”

“Ha! Yeah!
Break a leg,
hoaloha
,”
he said, turning away.

But before I could
move, another guy was there, pulling my jacket off and actually
taking the elastic out of my hair. I whirled, ready to deck whoever
had just touched me without permission, but dropped my guard when I
saw a man with short, jet black hair, expertly cut, bleached gold on
the tips, and artfully moussed. He had on a flamboyant multi-colored
silk shirt tucked into a pair of black pants and on his feet—red
leather shoes. This had to be Dante.

“Since this is
a summer show, let’s leave your hair loose, sweetie. You’d
better strip and get cracking. You don’t want the Yuminator
back here.” His voice went hushed.

“The
Yuminator?”

“Yumi. She’s
the hostess and organizer for T&O—in case you don’t
know, that’s Tattersall and Outlaw.”

“It would
leave a big hole in the show if a model doesn’t show up,
right?”

“Oh my, you’re
from the South. Dreamy accent. Yes, no-show models are a big problem.
Not showing the clothes, that loses them business.” He pulled
out a brush and started to run it through my hair, then he grabbed a
curling iron, and by this time I was ready to bolt. “Minnie’s
gambling on everything today. Of course, that doll of a Verity, her
cutie little boy, and her yummy husband, are simply divine. Minnie
loves them. I’ve been doing hair for her since way before she
took on her new partner. Nice addition, if you ask me. That Verity
has an eye for what looks good on a man. Well, of course, look at her
husband. And I will,” he said with a wink and a twinkling
smirk.

I started to
unbutton my shirt and cuffs while he wrapped hair around the wand and
held it. Decision made. He released it and fluffed it up, making it
look more natural. When he finished with that, I pulled my shirt off
and reached for the snap on my jeans. He came at me with a sponge. I
jerked back and he gave me a hold-still look. “What’s
wrong?”

“Is that
makeup?”

“Yes,”
he said, his brow furrowing. “It’s to keep you from
looking shiny under the lights. Just light foundation. Everyone also
gets eyeliner. Wasn’t this explained to you when you took the
job?”

“Um…okay,”
I said, not wanting to jeopardize Minnie and Verity’s show. The
bottom line was, it looked like the model who was supposed to be
wearing these clothes was either late or not showing. I couldn’t
let Verity down. She’d put everything she had into this. I also
couldn’t let Minnie down. She’d taken a chance on Verity,
a complete unknown. She’d welcomed my friend’s wife into
her heart when she was alone and pregnant with Boone’s little
boy Duel.