36 Exposures (2 page)

"Did they buy it?"

Jolee paused with a fork full of salad almost to her lips and shrugged. “I have no idea. It was like talking to statues. If those two play poker, they have to be grand champions. They didn't nod, didn't crack a smile, nothing the entire time I spoke."

Her best friend, Ferra, wiggled in her seat. “Well, if I know you, you did an outstanding job. I know that if I saw that line of clothing in a store, I'd certainly buy it!"

Her remark made Jolee snort. Pencil-thin little Ferra wearing plus-size designer suits? It would be like hanging a parachute on a pipe cleaner. “That's sweet of you to say, girlfriend, but you don't wear the same size I do. Much less shop at the same stores."

"Well, was there something you salvaged out of the promo?” the dark-haired waif continued as she dug into her shrimp Alfredo.

Jolee frowned. All she had to do was look at a dish like that and she could gain five pounds. Ferra packed it in like there was no tomorrow, and in the morning she might find out she'd lost another sixteen ounces.

"Were the two guys at least good looking? Enough to hunt down in a bar somewhere?"

Were they good looking? “Oh, yeah,” Jolee admitted. “But someone like me would never be on their ticket. No, they were more the runway model type. The kind of men who like their women obedient and vacant."

A familiar jangle interrupted their conversation. Jolee fumbled in her skirt pocket, looking for the cell phone while Ferra waved a fork in her direction.

"Sixty gazillion ring tones and songs you could put on that thing, and you have it ring like a regular old phone. And you call yourself a marketing director?"

"Oh, hush. Ah, here it is.” Jolee pulled out the phone, but at the same time the forgotten canister came out with it. A glance at the window told her the number was unknown. What the hell, she shrugged and decided to answer it anyway. “Hello?"

"Miss Wiley? Stu Dovinsky. I witnessed your presentation today.” The voice was as polished as a freshly waxed car.
Bet those two-hundred dollar elocution lessons really paid off, didn't they?

"Yes, Mr. Dovinsky. I remember you. Was there something you needed to ask me about the promo?” Jolee turned sideways in her seat to avoid Ferra's inquisitive stare.

"Actually, yes, I do,” Dovinsky answered. “But I would prefer to ask over dinner tomorrow. Would that be a problem?"

Her breath caught in her throat. Images of the man with the light brown hair and Jonas Babbino suit rolled around in her mind. How the hell did he get her number? For that matter, why was he even wasting his time asking her out?

"Miss Wiley?"

"Uhh, fine! Yes! It's not a problem!"

"Excellent! Shall I pick you up around seven-ish?"

Already she could feel the hairs on her neck starting to rise. The man used terms like ‘seven-ish'? Not a good sign. Nuh-uh, not good at all. Put a tally mark in his negative column. “Works for me,” she somehow replied. “Seven, it is."

"Excellent!” the man echoed. “Where shall I pick you up?"

She gave him the address of the little corner grocery at the end of her block. For some reason her instincts had begun flashing little warning lights, telling her not to give him her real address. The store was a five-minute walk from her apartment and a safe place to rendezvous. Mr. Dovinsky hung up first, leaving Jolee to stare at the CALL ENDED.

"Well? Who?"

Jolee stuffed the phone back into her pocket, but the canister remained in her other hand. “Uhh, it was one of the guys from the presentation.” Curiosity was getting the better of her again. She ignored Ferra's squeal of delight and demand for more information, and shook the can next to her ear again. Yep. It definitely rattled.

Her friend's attention was momentarily distracted. “What's that? Film?"

"The can, at least. Wonder what's in it?” She reached for the lid when another hand slapped hers down.

"You mean it's not yours?” Brown eyes stared her down. “What are you doing with a can of film that isn't yours?"

Jolee threw her a smile. “I found it on the street. I nearly broke my neck trying to avoid stepping on it.” She started to open it again, but Ferra stopped her a second time.

"You don't know what's inside, and you're going to open it? What are you? Senile?"

"What could be inside that's so dangerous?"

"It could have drugs in it!” Ferra protested.

"Maybe. It rattles."

"That's what I meant! Pills!"

"Ferra! Pills can only hurt me if I swallow them. And if it's drugs, I'll just flush them down the toilet."

"Okay, but what if it's a bomb?"

"In this itty bitty thing? You've been reading too much Ian Fleming,” Jolee protested, laughing, and quickly popped the lid. Inside was a metal roll of film, just as she'd suspected. Sliding it into her palm, she noticed one important thing. “It's been used."

Ferra leaned over the table so far that the blouse stretched across her breasts almost found the ranch dressing. “How can you tell?"

"A fresh roll has a tab sticking out so it hooks into the loader. This one doesn't have a tab."

"Where do you think it came from?"

Sliding the roll back into its container, Jolee shook her head. “Oh, anyone could have accidentally dropped it. Some tourist is probably looking for it right now."

"What are you going to do with it? Put out an ad in the paper's lost and found? Put one of the pictures on a milk carton?” Ferra smirked at her own joke.

"Nope. I'm going right over there to the drugstore and have them develop the photos. Maybe there's something on them that'll give me a clue as to who lost the roll."

"Yeah, and you'll probably end up paying a pretty penny for someone's bad shots of every tourist trap in town."

Jolee shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But in case there's more here than I think, I might email one of the pictures to the newspaper. Somebody's bound to recognize their work."

"Ooo! What if they're dirty pictures? You know...porn shots?"

Jolee rolled her eyes. “Girl, you need to get laid. You've been lonely too long.” Getting to her feet, the ghost of a twinge reminded Jolee of her earlier misstep. She winced. “Look, I'm heading back to the office. Same place, same time tomorrow?"

"Are you seeing that guy tonight?"

Oh, yeah. She had a date. “No, tomorrow night. Don't worry. I'll give you all the juicy details over lunch Monday,” Jolee promised before her friend had the chance to beg.

They exchanged quick hugs, and then Jolee crossed the street to drop off the mysterious roll at the nearby drugstore. The technician promised to have the pictures ready by the time Jolee got off work, which suited her just fine. A not-half-bad presentation, a mysterious roll of film, and a bonus date all in one day. She found an extra spring in her step as she started back to work.

[Back to Table of Contents]

This is impossible.

"So...what are you?” The clerk leaned over the counter. “I really like the one with the purple unicorn."

"Huh?” Jolee tore herself away from the proof sheet to give the camera clerk a questioning stare.

"Are you one of those models? Like for those romance novels?” The young woman gave her a conspiratorial grin. “You're lucky they weren't more explicit. Those shots are
hot!"

Jolee dropped her eyes back to the proof sheet. She could easily see why the clerk would ask such a question. “Uhh, no. We were just goofing around.” She flashed an embarrassed grin at the woman, which wasn't too difficult considering what was on the photos.

She quickly paid for the developing and went straight home. As soon as she was inside her apartment, she went right to her computer and booted it up. While she waited, she treated herself to a rare glass of wine and took it over to the desk. The photo disk loaded, and Jolee took a swallow of the Merlot to steady her nerves.

DO YOU WISH TO OPEN THIS FILE?

"God, yes."

Jolee clicked the OPEN button and watched with apprehension as the first image filled the screen.

It was her.

With a man.

And—Lord have mercy on her soul—
what
a man!

He was holding her face between his hands and leaning down as if to kiss her. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted in breathless anticipation. Jolee could almost feel the impatient need to have his mouth cover hers. To breathe in his virile male scent when he—

Get a grip, Wiley!
Another gulp of wine, and she clicked the mouse.

The second shot was more sedate. She was resting her head on his shoulder. His cheek caressed her forehead. Their eyes were closed. They almost appeared...

Sated.

A shiver ran through her. Come to think of it, was there any hint or sign of clothing in any of these shots?

Jolee felt her thighs clench, and warmth oozed into her panties. Questions tumbled around inside her head like clothes in a dryer.

Who was he? More importantly, who was the woman in the snapshot?

There was no way the female in the photos could be her. Didn't someone once say everybody in the world had an exact double? That's who the woman had to be. Her twin, just not related by blood. But an identical twin, nonetheless. Damn!

As Jolee stared at the woman, she had to admit the resemblance was almost perfect. Almost. The only difference she could see was that the woman in the shot had a lover straight out of dreamland, and Jolee...well...

Oh, but what she wouldn't give to be that woman snuggling in his embrace.

Staring at the computer, Jolee could see a lot more detail in the high-resolution monitor than what she'd noticed in the tiny thumbnail proofs. There was a close-up of the man, and this one revealed a tiny scar on the bridge of his nose. He also had mesmerizing brown eyes.

These photos were raw and real. Pre-touchup. What was in each picture was one hundred percent genuine, warts and pimples and all. The man's appearance wasn't perfect, but those imperfections made him that much more alluring. Whoever had taken these shots was damn good at his job.

"You...
are
...the man of my dreams,” she murmured aloud, then chuckled and mentally slapped herself.
You're losing it, Wiley. You've gone ga-ga over a man's picture, and for all you know he could already be married. Or taken. Maybe to the woman who could be your identical twin. No one that devastatingly handsome stays single for long.

She continued to click through the collection, all thirty-six exposures. Each shot was a different pose of the two of them. Correction. Of the guy and the girl who looked like her. They were sensuously photographed, captured in romantic clutches. In some they appeared either half-naked or totally nude, but tastefully arranged so that the naughty bits weren't exposed. A blanket here, a bud vase there. A three-quarter view from the waist up in several, or a headshot or close-up.

But in every one of them the man and woman, although they knew they were in front of a camera, seemed oblivious to it. Their whole attention, their sole focus, remained on each other. Every touch, every look, every bend in their bodies spoke of devotion and love. These weren't two people modeling. They were lovers caught in the midst of a romantic interlude.

She took her time studying each shot. Over and over she had to keep telling herself that the woman making love to that undeniably handsome man was not her, but she looked real enough to fool even her parents. The woman even had a little rose tattoo on her right hip, exactly where Jolee had one!

There were a couple of head-and-shoulder poses of just the man. Shots that didn't feature herself...her twin, rather. If she placed one of them in the Lost and Found section of the paper, surely someone who knew the guy would be able to identify him. And that would lead to whoever lost the roll of film. Hopefully.

Jolee shook her head. This was all too freaky for words. Technically, these were professional shots, although they were just this side of being called porn. No wonder the camera clerk thought they were poses for romance novel covers. Tasteful, yes. Hot,
oh, hell, yes!

She clicked through the disk until she reached exposure number thirty-four. It was faded, like it was under-exposed. Number thirty-five was black but outlined in red. Ditto for thirty-six.

She backed up. Thirty-three was a clear picture of the man and woman reclining in a tub filled with bubbles.
Of course. Show me any posed shot of someone in a bathtub where there aren't any bubbles.
Just as she'd expected, suds covered strategic areas of the couple's bodies. The man's hands also helped to keep the photos rated PG.

Jolee felt her nipples tightening. The man had his palms cupping the woman's generous breasts. It almost appeared as though he was teasing the tips with his fingers. His mouth was most certainly teasing the woman's neck.

Involuntarily, Jolee reached up with one hand and squeezed her breast through her silk blouse and bra. Sweet heavens, she could almost feel his hands! She could almost sense the warm water swirling sensuously around their bodies as she pressed her back against his chest
. His erection lay on the bottom of the tub, where her butt cheeks nestled against his pubic hair and his ultra-hard dick slid between her folds

Jolee sat up in shock.
This is crazy!

A mouse click forward didn't change the outcome of the last three photos. They were still dark or almost dark. On the other hand, maybe the photographer was finished at number thirty-four and didn't want the last two shots on the roll, so he'd exposed the rest of the film and accidentally damaged number thirty-four in the process.
Oh, well,
she mentally shrugged.
What did it matter, anyway

She saved the entire disk to her hard drive. Her hard-earned money had paid for the developing. Might as well benefit by keeping copies for her own personal lusting. And, boy, there was no way the images of Mr. Man of Her Dreams were going to go to waste! Not if she could help it! Every woman needs her fantasy man, especially when the real ones are too few and far between.