But…”
“But what?” He sounded like a man who was grasping at straws, at anything that would get him out of the hole he’d dug.
I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I get why you did it. It’s going back...the money.”
“No, sweetheart, no. Please let it help you get out of this sooner. It’s selfish, I know, but...” His breath was ragged coming through the line. “Maybe it will bring you back to LA sooner. Help your sister with college. Whatever you need. Mia, I just want to help you. Please just let me do this one thing.”
“Wes…”
“Please.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.” Wes murmured softly, the way a lover does. “Are we gonna be okay? Are we still…”
“Friends,” I offered.
He chuckled low in his throat. It was the most beautiful sound I’d heard in three weeks. “Yeah, friends,” he finished.
“We are. I gotta go.”
“Your client?” His words were flat, held no emotion.
I nodded even though he couldn’t see. “I miss you too you know.”
“You do?”
“I do. We’re gonna be okay. Catch you later?”
“You know where I am, sweetheart. You’ve got the key.”
“Bye, Wes.” I hung up before I could hear his reply. Hearing it would make me want to jump through the phone and kiss him, soothe him, make him better. Make me better. At least he did what he did to help and truly didn’t realize what message he’d sent to me.
I am no man’s whore.
Time to deal with Alec.
***
“ Ma jolie ! I am ready for you. We must do stills for “Selfish Love,” Alec bustled the moment I entered the loft warehouse. He ushered me to the white sheet that had been spread over padding. “Clothes off, we mustn’t waste any time.”
Before I could express the rage simmering within me about the money, he’d whipped my top over my head and was undoing my pants. Instantly, the space between my thighs heated at his insistent caresses. Traitorous body.
“Frenchie, stop! I need to talk to you.”
“ Non . Remove your clothes, but leave your lingerie on.” He moved from me to the ladder. His movements were quick, precise and not helping the situation. Alec was knee-deep into his creative headspace—that place where he’d stare blankly or paint incredibly fast, seemingly without seeing what he was doing. It was downright strange.
“Alec, I need to speak to you,” I tried again as one of his attendants tugged at my feet trying to get me to remove my jeans. I did what they wanted, preferring to get this part over with. When I was left standing in a standard white t-shirt bra and matching simple bikini briefs, the attendant helped get me settled. The hair chick Alec hired to be on hand started fussing with my hair, making it sweep out as if I’d lain down, yet my hair was perfectly sprawled out.
Then one of them came forward with the red paint. “No!” I pushed a hand out. “I told you, Alec. I needed to speak to you. About the money that appeared in my account yesterday?” I gritted my teeth and waited for him to look at me. He didn’t. Instead, he fussed with his camera, the lighting, yelled out commands until finally he answered me.
“ Oui , I had it done yesterday,” he said absently while looking through the lens of his camera.
“Why?”
“Place your hand into your panties, close your eyes and pretend you’re having fun with yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
Alec sighed and his jaw clenched tight, the muscle at the corner beating a rapid tempo. “Pay attention, Mia. We have…”
“We have much to do, yeah I know,” I growled in response. “I’ve heard that a time or two before.”
His gaze flicked to mine like a bullet from a rifle, his eyes narrowing. “Then you know I am on a short deadline. The exhibit is in one week, there are two more paintings to be done. This one and one more I have yet to visualize. Now what is your problem? I sent the money, you received it, oui ?”
“Yes, Alec, but…” I looked around. There were
“But what?” He sounded like a man who was grasping at straws, at anything that would get him out of the hole he’d dug.
I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I get why you did it. It’s going back...the money.”
“No, sweetheart, no. Please let it help you get out of this sooner. It’s selfish, I know, but...” His breath was ragged coming through the line. “Maybe it will bring you back to LA sooner. Help your sister with college. Whatever you need. Mia, I just want to help you. Please just let me do this one thing.”
“Wes…”
“Please.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.” Wes murmured softly, the way a lover does. “Are we gonna be okay? Are we still…”
“Friends,” I offered.
He chuckled low in his throat. It was the most beautiful sound I’d heard in three weeks. “Yeah, friends,” he finished.
“We are. I gotta go.”
“Your client?” His words were flat, held no emotion.
I nodded even though he couldn’t see. “I miss you too you know.”
“You do?”
“I do. We’re gonna be okay. Catch you later?”
“You know where I am, sweetheart. You’ve got the key.”
“Bye, Wes.” I hung up before I could hear his reply. Hearing it would make me want to jump through the phone and kiss him, soothe him, make him better. Make me better. At least he did what he did to help and truly didn’t realize what message he’d sent to me.
I am no man’s whore.
Time to deal with Alec.
***
“ Ma jolie ! I am ready for you. We must do stills for “Selfish Love,” Alec bustled the moment I entered the loft warehouse. He ushered me to the white sheet that had been spread over padding. “Clothes off, we mustn’t waste any time.”
Before I could express the rage simmering within me about the money, he’d whipped my top over my head and was undoing my pants. Instantly, the space between my thighs heated at his insistent caresses. Traitorous body.
“Frenchie, stop! I need to talk to you.”
“ Non . Remove your clothes, but leave your lingerie on.” He moved from me to the ladder. His movements were quick, precise and not helping the situation. Alec was knee-deep into his creative headspace—that place where he’d stare blankly or paint incredibly fast, seemingly without seeing what he was doing. It was downright strange.
“Alec, I need to speak to you,” I tried again as one of his attendants tugged at my feet trying to get me to remove my jeans. I did what they wanted, preferring to get this part over with. When I was left standing in a standard white t-shirt bra and matching simple bikini briefs, the attendant helped get me settled. The hair chick Alec hired to be on hand started fussing with my hair, making it sweep out as if I’d lain down, yet my hair was perfectly sprawled out.
Then one of them came forward with the red paint. “No!” I pushed a hand out. “I told you, Alec. I needed to speak to you. About the money that appeared in my account yesterday?” I gritted my teeth and waited for him to look at me. He didn’t. Instead, he fussed with his camera, the lighting, yelled out commands until finally he answered me.
“ Oui , I had it done yesterday,” he said absently while looking through the lens of his camera.
“Why?”
“Place your hand into your panties, close your eyes and pretend you’re having fun with yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
Alec sighed and his jaw clenched tight, the muscle at the corner beating a rapid tempo. “Pay attention, Mia. We have…”
“We have much to do, yeah I know,” I growled in response. “I’ve heard that a time or two before.”
His gaze flicked to mine like a bullet from a rifle, his eyes narrowing. “Then you know I am on a short deadline. The exhibit is in one week, there are two more paintings to be done. This one and one more I have yet to visualize. Now what is your problem? I sent the money, you received it, oui ?”
“Yes, Alec, but…” I looked around. There were
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