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2271 Words
Her kiss was intoxicating; he couldn’t get enough. Lance rolled Cassia beneath him as he settled between her legs like he belonged there. She practically purred as his mouth worked its way down her neck. His hands caressed her curves. Pushing her skirt up as his hand worked its way up her thigh. He couldn’t wait to get that dress off her. He’d been thinking about that perfect body from the very first time he photographed her in nothing but his grandmother’s ring and a smile.
He had tried to focus on the work and not that she looked sinfully good undressed seated just right where you saw everything but nothing as well. It was a perfect balance between innocence and sexuality. Having her beneath him made Lance ache with desire. He wanted so badly to lose himself within her.
His mouth moved back up her long slender neck, and he lifted his head to gaze into her bright blue eyes only to be met with the dark, sensuous eyes he was used to seeing. Her midnight hair was golden now. Her heart-shaped face a classic oval. Cindy smiled up at him with that smug, cocky smile she was so good at.
Lance shot up in bed. He looked around realizing he was alone. He fell back against the mattress and gave an exasperated sigh. Their kiss earlier that night had gotten him all worked up. Cassia was a beautiful woman, but she was just like Cindy, only here for the boost to her career. He wasn’t falling for those fake smiles and sweet words again. He was done with relationships. He was done with women altogether.
A man had urges he was no exception, but Lance was starting to see the value of prostitutes. Of course, he wasn’t one to pick up some strung out used up sixteen-year-old on the corner; but for a man with money, there were plenty of escort agencies, which for the right price, would provide various amusements. At least with prostitutes, he knew what he was getting in to. There was no question what they were there for, and when it was over, he could send her away. No emotional connections. No hurt feelings.
He was tired of being a putz with women, no more from now on Lance was a rock. Still, he couldn’t deny his attraction to Cassia, but he was sure as hell going to ignore it.
***
His lunch date was at one o’clock sharp. He knew how the editor disliked lateness, but no more than him. Lance couldn’t stand tardiness; there wasn’t anything more unprofessional than being late. Lance looked at his watch and shook his head. If Cassia didn’t show up soon, he was going to have to leave without her. That was when he heard the elevator. Lance was at the doors when they opened, and he stepped on. “You’re late.” He grumbled pressing the main floor button.
“No, I’m not. You’re just impatient.” She retorted fussing over her hair. She had pinned it back off her face. It looked fine, but with this particular outfit, it would look better loose.
“Look at you.” He sighed with annoyance. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He complained reaching up and took the pins from her dark hair. He ran his fingers through her tresses and gave her more of a relaxed look. Then he reached down and retied the yellow sash-like belt around her narrow waist. Then he noticed the bra straps beneath the spaghetti straps of her dress. The girl had no bloody sense. “Don’t you own a strapless bra?” He shook his head “Take it off.” He ordered.
“What?” She seemed surprised.
“Take the bra off.” It wasn’t a complicated request. “Better to go without than to have it showing.” He explained. “Besides your breast will look fine without it, you’re still young and perky.” Suddenly she laughed, and he couldn’t figure out what she was laughing at. Her ivory complexion had turned a blush pink. She embarrassed easily, but he wasn’t going to cater to her sensibilities. “Take it off.”
He watched as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra skillfully taking it off without removing her dress. He never understood how women could do that, but he supposed it was a useful skill when changing in an elevator. He watched as she put the garment into her purse. “Better?”
His mouth was set in a firm line of disapproval. “Presentable.” He conceded. There was only so much he could do last minute. “Ok let’s go over what you must do.” He said stepping off the elevator on the main floor. “First, you need to smile, always smile, editors don’t want to deal with moody people.” She looked at him with a smug smile and a raised brow. He knew what was amusing her. “When you’re as big a name as me you can afford to be moody. Second, carry yourself with poise and elegance. You want to appear classy not country.”
“Third?” She went on for him with a giggle.
“Are you listening to me?” He snapped. “This is a career building lunch take it seriously.” He scolded as they walked out the door and around the building to the parking lot.
“Sorry.”
“Third you want to be witty, fun, humble, and grateful. People book personality. Last you will order the salad, not a burger. There is nothing less appealing than watching a model cram a big greasy pound of beef in her mouth.” Again, she laughed trying hard to hide her amusement. Lance stopped at the car door as he slipped his key in the lock. “I didn’t say anything funny.”
“Lighten up why so serious?” She said getting into the car.
“This is a serious business. If you’re not going to take it seriously, get out now. I don’t like wasting my time.”
“Why are you always so cranky?”
“I’m not-” He paused a moment and took a steadying breath, this woman had a knack for pushing his buttons, “I’m not cranky.” He finished softly.
“Could have fooled me.”
He didn’t bother to respond he was sure she was purposely trying to drive him nuts. He couldn’t understand why but she seemed to get a kick out of hassling him. He pulled out and headed to Santa Monica. “What do you know about Venus?” He asked watching the road.
“It’s a planet.” He looked over at her dumbfounded. She smiled, and the glint in her bright eyes told him she was only messing with him. “It’s a high fashion magazine with sister publications in both France and Italy.” At least she wasn’t completely clueless.
“The American editor’s name is-”
“Iris Oaks.”
“Right,” he was impressed, “what do you know about her?”
“She used to be a model, she’s dabbled in photography, and she worked her way up from the daughter of a bus driver to one of the most influential opinions in the fashion industry right up there with you.”
“It’s important that she likes you. She is presently booking for a spread in next month’s edition. This lunch is about her schmoozing me in the hopes that I will run the shoot she’s trying to book for. She’ll be featuring three designers.”
“Like Tommy Hilfiger?”
“You’re kidding right?” He asked still not sure about her sense of humour. “Donna Karan, Donatella Versace, and Helmut Lang.”
“All very good designers.”
“What do you know about them?” He scoffed he couldn’t imagine she could know these three coming from hillbilly Texas.
“Donna Karan designs accessories, legwear, perfume and menswear. Terrific blazers, well-cut pants, sarong skirts, classy dresses or strong coats, you can never miss that element of tough chic. Donatella Versace’s talent is in super sexy styles in sync with the modern-day career woman, highlight the Versace design. Her labels still maintain the Versace tradition that blends fashion with rock 'n' roll, originally started by Gianni Versace, who had been murdered in 1997. Then there is Helmut Lang who is a Vienna born designer who defined "luxe minimalism" with those clingy, stretchy T-shirts of the nineties.”
Lance was blown over, for a young country girl she knew a lot about high fashion. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he initially thought. They pulled up to the restaurant, and he tossed his keys to the valet. His hand instinctively went to the small of her back as he escorted Cassia inside.
He spotted Iris near the back by the water feature. He instantly fell into his professional persona. Reaching the table, she rose to her feet, and Iris embraced Lance with a kiss to each cheek. “It’s so good to see you.” She said taking a seat once more. Iris was a woman of fifty, but she had aged well with little more than a few crow’s feet. Her hair was white, cut short but fashionable. She dressed in the top designs, always on the cutting edge. She was one of choice few that decided what was fashionable, setting trends worldwide.
“You look lovely as always.” He said pulling out a chair for Cassia. “Iris, allow me to introduce Cassia Dillinger, the hottest new face of high fashion.”
Cassia shook Iris’ hand with a dazzling smile. “I love your work,” Cassia said sweetly.
Iris smiled. “A pleasure to meet you. Lance, she is just divine. I love her hair, and the dress is stunning. You have flawless taste.”
“I saw her the other day and thought to myself who would be better than her to represent Venus.” He smiled and caressed the side of Cassia’s face. “She’s fresh and young. Not just beautiful but as you said flawless.”
“I completely agree,” Iris said looking Cassia over closer. “But I was considering another model. I’ve been in contact with Marcus Chatmen from PSI, and he says he has this stunning model Cindy Ratter that would be perfect for the shoot.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go with her,” Lance said shaking his head as he relaxed back in his seat and flagged down the waitress to order a drink. “I’ve shot Miss. Ratter before and she is just dreadful. She’s difficult, always complaining, completely unprofessional; she’s better known for what she does on her back than what she does in front of the camera.”
“But Chatmen said-”
“Chatmen wouldn’t know talent if it bit him on the ass. He only represents models willing to sleep with him. He’s entirely unqualified to book a cat commercial let alone a million-dollar photo shoot, but you trust him with your career if you like. I’m sure Venus’ severance package is good.” He could see that look of reconsideration in her dark eyes.
“Well, who would you book?”
“Someone young and edgy like Miss. Dillinger.” He suggested.
Iris smiled knowingly. “You are representing Miss. Dillinger, aren’t you?”
“I am branching out into management.”
“So, you benefit from me booking her?”
Lance smiled his cocky smile of well-earned confidence. “Perhaps but you know I’m right. I’m always right.” Iris was thoughtful for a moment as she considered his argument. “Show her your portfolio.” He instructed.
Cassia took the portfolio from her lap and handed it to Iris. Iris opened the book and inspected each picture. “Not a lot of pictures. She hasn’t worked much, has she?”
“Everyone has to start somewhere. There is nothing wrong with a fresh face.”
“When you’re right you’re right,” Iris said closing the book and placing it on the table. “I’ll book Miss. Dillinger, but let’s talk about you. What do I have to do to get you behind the camera?”
Lance smiled he had her right where he wanted her. “I’ll make you a deal,” he offered, “if you recommend my model to your peers in Italy and France you can have me for ten percent off my usual fee. You’ll never get a better photographer for less.”
Iris smiled, and he knew he had her. “You Sir have a deal.”
- Writer
