Mandy Makes Her Mark (2 page)

She faltered as she pushed her way into the conference room. Two men and one woman glared at her. Of the three, two of them were ethereally gorgeous creatures, and one was the source of the cash that would keep the agency's lights on for the next month. “…fun?”

“You're late,” Tad Eckholm muttered.

“Only by nine minutes,” Marc Lark said archly. “And really, what is nine minutes to a man such as myself? A man with a fashion empire to run? After all, there are twenty-two days until the rollout of the winter line. Why not spend them drinking your excellent tap water and chatting with your charming employees?”

“Hey, you didn't have to drink tap,” Sylvie said. It was always a shock when the thick Bronx accent came out of her beautiful, patrician-featured face. “You coulda had a seltzer.” Which came out “seltz-ah” causing Marc Lark to perceptibly shudder.

“I am so sorry about my tardiness,” Mandy said, steering Jayde to the chair farthest from Sylvie. “I was, ah…”

“Allow me to save you some effort,” Lark said. “I spoke to Luna. I am, of course, very sorry to hear about the diphtheria and I'm sure I speak for everyone at Lark when I say we wish her a speedy recovery, blah blah blah.”

“Dipth…” So Luna had lied to everyone at the agency, saying that she was ill, rather than admit she signed elsewhere. Mandy sighed; another disaster she was going to have to smooth over. With any luck, word wouldn't get around until after the island shoot. While her models were in Florida, Mandy would have a few days to rework the schedule and go through head shots. “Yes. Her illness took us all by surprise.”

Mandy snuck a peek at Tad, steeling herself for the effect all that male perfection had on her even after two years, but he looked quickly away. Hmmm. He didn't look like he was dying of heartbreak. Which was probably a good thing, on balance, as her other two male models were both booked elsewhere through the week. She couldn't afford to lose Tad, too.

“I will expect a rate adjustment, of course,” Lark went on.

“Hey, I oughtta bill out at least as high as her,” Sylvie snapped.

“A discussion we'll have at a later date,” Mandy said firmly. “Sylvie, Jayde, I know I asked the two of you to join us but I think Mr. Lark, Tad, and I can work out the rest of the details without you. I've emailed you all information on local transportation and lodging on the island. Why don't you take off early and I'll check in with you in the morning.”

“But we were going to go over the mood board and the call sheets,” Jayde said tearfully.

“I'll catch you up,” Tad said. “We're all on the same flight.”

Mandy looked at him warily. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? Especially since it was her sister who had ostensibly just dumped him? “That would be…most appreciated.”

“I want you down there, Mandy,” Lark said, pushing the folder of call sheets across the table to her. “This thing is falling apart. We don't have any wiggle room in the schedule. I need the finals for the printer by next Tuesday. Our accounts' schedules all hinge on the new catalog. There is no room for failure. Do you understand?”

Mandy blanched. She'd gone on shoots before, in the early days of the agency when she was still getting her feet wet. But these were her most seasoned models. The professional team that Lark had hired were among the best in the business. The photographer, Deirdre King, was reliable and drama-free; if anyone needed herding, Deirdre was up to the job.

When Jayde and Sylvie were gone, Lark got the mood board out of his briefcase and the three of them went over the details of the shoot: the hair, makeup and lighting, as well as locations that would best showcase the gowns. There were three days to shoot the collection. Most of the bridal gowns were being photographed in the studio and would be inserted into the catalog layout later, but the photo shoot on Cupid Island was for the attendants' gown collection and would feature Sylvie, with Jayde modeling the plus size gowns and Tad serving as little more than window dressing. Lark did not do menswear, so Tad would be able to wear the same tuxedo throughout, switching his accessories to match the gowns. An easy shoot for Tad, something Mandy hoped he was grateful for.

Lark softened considerably when Mandy offered a five percent discount above and beyond the reduction in rates made possible by Luna's attrition.

“I'm sure you'll be very pleased with Sylvie,” Mandy said, as the meeting concluded. “She is, ah, very talented.”

Lark merely grunted. “I'll show myself out.”

Once he was gone, Mandy sank back in her chair, letting out a faint moan. Ordinarily she was on edge around Tad, who had to be one of the gloomiest men she had ever met. His long silences and glowering expressions were bad enough; the fact that they paradoxically stirred something animal and untamed in Mandy only made things worse. The only thing that prevented Mandy's mortification at being attracted to her sister's boyfriend was that every other woman who met him was as well—it simply couldn't be helped.

Tad made no move to leave. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and gave her a look of intense scrutiny. “So. Luna told you.”

“How could you let this happen, Tad?”

His face, every flawless square inch of it, darkened. “Let what, exactly, happen, Mandy? Let your sister indulge her latest whim? Funny, I didn't realize it was my job to stop her. Since you've been doing such a fantastic job.”

Ouch. Direct hit. Still, even if Tad was insufferable most of the time, he rarely acknowledged what they both knew to be true: Luna had done exactly what she wanted from day one of their joint enterprise, and Mandy had never been able to stop her.

“Okay.” Mandy forced herself to calm down. “Okay, look, she's gone and we'll have to deal with that, probably each of us in our own way, when we get back. Now I've got to somehow get coverage for the rest of the week, rework the schedule, make sure we can get an extra room, pack, book my flight—what time did I book the rest of you for, anyway?”

Tad's expression twisted briefly into a smile. He was enjoying her pain, it was clear. “Six o'clock. Out of LAX.”

Mandy muttered under her breath. Now she remembered. Flying out of Burbank would have been so much easier, but she'd saved a few bucks by getting flights with a layover from the larger airport. She'd have to get up at three o'clock to get to the airport on time.

But she wasn't about to give Tad the satisfaction of seeing her sweat. “Six. Right. Of course. Well, I'll see you at the airport, then.”

“Sure.” Tad hesitated, and for a moment Mandy thought he was about to say something about Luna.

Don't
, she telegraphed with all her might. She and Tad had shared a mutual antipathy for each other from the moment they met. It would be a terrible idea to find common ground now, as satisfying as it might be to have someone to unite with against her sister.

“I saw it coming,” she blurted. “You were never right for her. I'm only surprised it didn't happen sooner.”

She'd caught him with his mouth open, about to speak. Now, he closed it, slowly, and nodded.

“Exactly what I was going to say,” he muttered, pushing back his chair. He was up and out of the room, trailing his air of sensual ennui behind him, before Mandy could think of a proper rejoinder.

Outside in the cramped office she could hear Liam, her assistant, humming along to Mylie Cyrus's latest hit. A moment later the door slammed, and Tad was gone.

Luna. Tad. Sylvie. Jayde. Her best models, all carefully booked into the Lark shoot, one of the most important of the season. It had taken skillful negotiating to land the contract, convincing Lark of the advantages of hiring a team that frequently worked together. Now, that façade had broken apart right in front of him. And Lark was connected–he went back thirty years in the bridal-wear business. If the shoot went badly, he wouldn't hesitate to let everyone know he was dissatisfied with the Leif Agency. And the tiny operating margin, not to mention the profit they were on schedule to earn for the first time in the agency's two year history, would be lost overnight.

Mandy wasn't going to let that happen. Before two years ago, she never dreamed she would run a modeling agency. Her job as a marketing assistant after college hadn't taught her the first thing about forming a company. But with hard work she'd turned the agency into an enterprise she was proud of…the first time she'd ever felt pride in her own accomplishments. She wasn't about to endanger that. She'd given up her personal life for the agency; she hadn't gone on a date since arriving in L.A. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even flirted with a man.

She wasn't about to let that sacrifice be for nothing. So even if she had to stay up all night, when the plane left LAX for Miami in the morning, she'd be on it, armed with everything she needed to ensure that the Cupid Island shoot was a success.

CHAPTER THREE

“Thank you,” Mandy said, mustering every last remaining trace of civility she possessed. It was nearly six o'clock, Florida time, and she had been awake for twelve hours. She gave the boat captain a tired smile. “Zeke, wasn't it? It was really nice of you to come back for me.”

“Absolutely, ma'am,” the captain said, tipping his baseball cap. At least he'd provided nice scenery for her to stare at on the ride over from Key Grande—tanned and muscular, dressed in a faded Hawaiian shirt and a necklace of shells, with sun-bleached hair around his shoulders, he was a grown-up lady's beach boy fantasy come true, especially with one arm slung casually over the steering wheel. Mandy really ought to take advantage of this unexpected break from her routine to brush up on her rusty flirting skills, since there would be little for her to do when they weren't shooting. Maybe, if she were really lucky, she might even meet someone for a tropical fling.

The thought filled her with more dread than anticipation. Growing up with a sister as beautiful as Luna hadn't exactly bolstered her confidence around men. The minute her few boyfriends met Luna, they became so distracted that Mandy had almost given up on finding a man who cared more about what was on the inside than on appearances. She wasn't horrible looking—she might not have Luna's height or poise or freakishly perfect features, but she did have the same clear pale skin and intense green eyes and thick auburn hair—but in her the combination was merely pleasant, not stunning. Add to that a nerdy streak a mile wide, and Mandy had learned early on to settle for being “the smart one” in the family, the one more likely to land a scholarship than a date.

Once, she'd made the mistake of forming a crush on a popular baseball player. Luna had discovered the secret place on the back deck where Mandy had carved the name of her crush—“Amanda and Brandon 4Ever”—and mocked her mercilessly. Ever since, she'd set her sights low. She knew she would have to work at it if she wanted to meet someone, but she'd made one excuse after another since starting the agency.

The engine noise had made conversation impossible—Zeke had gunned it, since he was behind schedule from squeezing in an extra round trip—but it was just as well, because Mandy was worn out from traveling. She'd had only three hours of sleep, after sending emails and working with Liam on the phone to rebook the rest of the week. Then her cab was late, and later still after he got lost on the way to LAX.

Once at the airport, she barely made it to the gate in time to board. Tad was sitting in first class—no doubt upgraded by an admiring flight attendant, the sort of thing that was always happening to him. Jayde and Sylvie had both been seated in the main cabin, their stunning looks having less of an effect on the flight crew, perhaps. Jayde jumped up and hugged Mandy, but Sylvie barely looked up from her magazine, and Mandy spent the next six hours in a middle seat all the way in the back, being jabbed with the elbows of the businessmen on either side. Sleep was out of the question.

There was only a brief layover before the puddle jumper to Key Grande, and Mandy spent it bolting down a sandwich. She was accustomed to being the only person in a room eating, but Jayde at least joined her for a smoothie, then regaled her with stories of her Minnesota childhood. By the time the plane landed and they exited to the tiny airport hangar, Mandy was desperate for a nap. Maybe she'd just go straight to bed and sleep until tomorrow and pray that everything fell into place on its own. Let Lark sweat the details for once.

But when she walked through the terminal, Zeke was waiting, holding a sign with the names of everyone from the agency except for her—and Mandy remembered that the one detail she hadn't taken care of was to book herself on the shuttle to the island.

She'd hoped that one of her models would offer to stay back with her—but one by one, they filed past her without meeting her eyes: imperious Sylvie, grumpy Tad, and anxious Jayde. Poor Zeke, forced to deal with all that attitude. No wonder he looked exhausted now.

Mandy handed him some folded bills.

“Oh hey, thanks, Mandy, but it's not necessary.”

“Well…” Mandy had a feeble burst of inspiration, fueled by her resolution to use this trip to wake up her inner flirt. She fluttered her eyelashes and swept her hair off her shoulders. “Perhaps you could use it to buy me a drink later.”

“Say! Not a bad idea,” Zeke said, pocketing the cash and then chucking her on the shoulder in a decidedly unromantic way.

Mandy knew the move well; it was a sign of the sort of “buddy” relationship she inspired in men, especially once they met Luna. Well, you could never have too many guy friends, right?

“Looking forward to it,” she said gamely.

On the way to the registration desk, Zeke chatted amiably about the history of the island, the layout, the activities, and entertainment available.

“I'm here for business, but I hope I'll be able to take advantage of the resort when I'm not working,” she said.