Beauty Shot (Hope Parish Novels Book 5) (10 page)

“Kandinsky is
one of the exhibits,” I said, hyper-aware of Deke’s
presence and the stuff that was still not resolved between us.

“Kan—who?”
Brax said.

“Wassily
Kandinsky. Russian artist. He was actually a lawyer and economist
before he studied art. Even though he came to art later in his life,
he challenged other artists to capture the essence of their vision or
story through a reduced means of expression. His woodcuts, for
example, were a vehicle for articulating his romantic tendencies.”

All of us stopped
and stared at Deke. He was studying one of Kandinsky’s
woodcuts, and I was completely blown away that he even knew who
Kandinsky was. The man was one of my favorite artists. I even had one
of his prints in my office.

“What?”
Deke said when he noticed our expressions.

“Geezus,
huckleberry. You’re a brainiac,” Braxton said, but there
was pride in his voice.

I moved closer,
finding his intelligence extremely sexy. “What do you think
about him as an artist?” I asked, stimulated by the way his
eyes sharpened.

I couldn’t get
over the idea of being the first woman to touch his body in an
intimate way. Initiate him into the carnal. Every move he made, every
breath he took turned me on. I wasn’t intimidated by his
inexperience, because I couldn’t imagine that Deke would be
clumsy, he was such a fast learner. But I was blown away by his
ability to overcome his own appetites and abstain from sex when the
teenage boy years were so intense in both sexual exploration and
experimentation.

“You love
this, guy, am I right?”

“I do.”

“I think he’s
an awesome artist, and I got interested in him when I was looking up
the firsts in the art world.”

“One of your
surfing projects?”

“Exactly.
Kandinsky’s career was a progressive move toward abstract
painting. His early works show scenes from his childhood in Russia,
and then he was using Impressionist tones similar to Monet. Bright
planes of color coming together to form easily recognizable houses,
rivers, and cloud-filled skies.”

I couldn’t
resist adding, “Then he gradually transitioned to
less-distinguishable shapes, like the ones exhibited here.”

Deke smiled and
nodded. “I love that he was the first abstract artist, ever.
Apparently Kandinsky saw the different artistic movements that
were developing while traveling throughout Europe from 1911 to
1913, and he later blended the Impressionistic ability to depict
sentiments rather than objects with the ability of Pointillism to
give a flat surface the illusion of depth, and the powerful Fauvist
use of color.”

“Exactly! You
really do know him.”

By now, Brax, Boone,
Verity and River Pearl had moved on, but I was locked in this
fascinating discussion with Deke. “His paintings from this time
are still made up of colorful shapes, but their meaning is more
open-ended.”

“The thing I
love most about him is he was a deep thinker when it came to his
art,” Deke added. “His devotion to what he called inner
beauty, spirit of fervor, and spiritual desire were personally
important to him. He called it inner necessity.”

“That’s
one of the things I found most interesting about him,” I said,
“his philosophical approach and his belief that art is
necessary. I have a print of his Composition VI hanging in my office.
I get great inspiration from it. Want to see it?”

“What about—?”

“We can catch
up with them later.”

We left the museum,
and it was just a quick trip by cab over to my 18,500-square-foot
loft design studio in Hell’s Kitchen. It was pretty quiet just
now, since my staff was at lunch. I took Deke up the stairs to my
modern office space with the Kandinsky hanging in abstract glory
right across from my desk.

He stood in front of
it, propping his mouthwatering backside against my glass and metal
desk. “What do you think?”

He tilted his head.
“It’s classic and beautiful, just like you. Abstract and
complicated.”

I stepped closer to
him. “So, this is true, not just a line? You’re a
virgin?”

“Um, yeah, I
should have mentioned it, but how do you introduce that unless you’re
getting down with a lady?” His arm came out and snagged me
around the waist. “You going to help me out here?”

I couldn’t
believe that I was going to say yes. But I did. I said yes.

His face brightened
at the word. His mouth dropped to mine and I pressed my body against
his, full-length.

“Yoo-hoo?
Anyone home?”

No!
I froze and my gut tumbled over and over. I thought I was going to be
sick. I jumped away from Deke like my clothes were on fire.

#

Deke

When Minnie jumped
out of my arms, I stiffened, and then it registered. A voice calling
out. A woman appeared in her office doorway.

“My darling.
How are you?”

She was talking to
Minnie, but her predatory eyes were on me. I straightened,
recognizing a man-eater when I saw one. I also knew her. Angela
Harding. A bona fide movie star. For a moment I was completely caught
off guard.

“What are you
doing in here with my daughter? Surely she hasn’t thrown
caution to the wind? After all, she’s British.”

“Angela,
please
,”
she pleaded, biting her lip. I didn’t like how upset she
looked.

“Oh, Minnie,
sweetheart
,
please introduce us and stop being a little tight-ass.”

“This is Deke
West.” She gave me a long-suffering look.

This woman was
Minnie’s momma?
Holy
shit.
She was notorious for…ah…that was why Minnie was
worried about being seen in public with me. Her mother wasn’t
shy about consorting with a lot of young guys. I didn’t dare
offer her my hand, since she’d probably eat it, so I nodded.
“Miz Harding.”

“Oh, my,”
she purred, running her hand down my arm. “Such a dreamy
accent. Exactly how old are you?”

“He’s
eighteen,” Minnie said, shouldering her way between us and
making her momma step back. “He’s off-limits.”

“Oh, he is?
Yours? Well, you are a chip off the old block, huh?” She gave
her daughter a bright smile and a nudge. Can’t we share?”

My mouth fell open.

Minnie’s face
darkened and she scowled. “That’s not funny, Angela.”
She put a hand on her momma’s arm and dragged her away from me.
“Deke, you’d better go.”

“Minnie.”

“Please,
please
,”
she said, squeezing her eyes shut. “Go.”

I had to admit as I
walked out of her office and into the street that I was pretty damned
disappointed with the way the afternoon had turned out. There was
something powerful and strange going on with her momma. I had heard
about the scandals, because my momma loved reading them stories in
the tabloids, but I’d thought most of that stuff was made up.
Now I was pretty sure it wasn’t, at least in Angela’s
case.

Welcome to New York
City.

The next day I went
to class, and when I came out there was a woman standing there in a
business suit. She handed me a card. “Deke West?”

“Yes,” I
said.

“You are a
tough one to track down and I’ve been looking since the fashion
show.”

I walked a few feet
away from the curious eyes of my classmates. “Who are you?”

“Susan
Carter.”

I just stared at her
blankly. It was clear to me that she expected me to know who she was.
“I’m sorry. I’m new to all this.”

“Oh, I own
Models Elite. We are the premier agency, and I’d like to
represent you.”

The back of my neck
got hot and all those feelings from high school rushed back at me.
The unhappiness of being treated as just a pretty face. This was
totally not the kind of business for me. “Um, I’m not
interested.”

“As a college
student, I bet you’d love to have some spending money. I can
make that scholarship obsolete.”

“I already
have a gig with Minnie Tattersall.” I was thankful I’d
said yes to her.

She looked me over
and smirked. “I could negotiate a better contract for you. What
is she offering?”

“Look, I
appreciate you coming down here and all, but I’m just not
interested.” I went to hand back her card and she shook her
head.

“Keep it. I
hope you change your mind.”

When I got back to
my dorm, there were several people milling around outside, one with a
camera. I made it clear to all of them that if they didn’t
leave me alone I would call campus police. That sent them packing.
But I had a feeling it was only the beginning. It was. The next day
there were more and more people until finally campus police came to
break it up and send them home.

Someone knocked on
the door and I was ready to put my fist in the face of whoever was on
the other side. The guy backed up at the scowl on my face, holding up
his hands. “Wait, Ms. Tattersall sent me. I work for her.
Here’s the schedule for the campaign shoots.”

I accepted the
stapled pages and said a quick sorry before he scurried down the hall
and disappeared. This was it? Just a cold, impersonal delivery by a
stranger? I got steamed and slammed my door. Fortunately I was alone,
since Travis and Emmie were off playing kissy-face somewhere.

After doing my
homework, I spent the rest of the day surfing the net, getting
angrier every minute I didn’t hear from her. I clicked on the
Times
to get the news, and my eye snagged an article that said,
Tattersall’s
Gamble Pays Off!
I
scrolled down to the article and started to read. They said some
really flattering things about Verity’s influence and about
Minnie’s vision and talent. When the interview got to me,
Minnie’s reply pissed me off.

I jumped up and
grabbed my jacket, snatching up the paperwork Minnie had sent by a
complete stranger. I’d had enough of waiting around. I jumped
in a cab and headed over to Minnie’s penthouse, where I
couldn’t get past the doorman. He stopped me and had to call
upstairs. Finally he got the word to send me up.

As soon as I got off
the elevator, I stormed into her penthouse. She was sitting on the
couch looking elegant and untouchable. It pissed me off even more.

“Why the hell
did you send an errand boy? You could at least have called and warned
me about the damn
Times
article.”

“Deke, sit
down.”

I paced. “I
don’t want to sit down.”

“It’s
obvious you’d rather yell at me.”

“I have plenty
of excellent reasons to yell at you. I’m not just some easily
dismissed, empty-headed, slack-jawed hick!” It hurt what she’d
said online.

“I know that.”

“You dismissed
me in that article like I was just some nobody that happened to
stumble onto your runway,” I shouted.

“Deke—“

“Well, you can
take your empty fucking job and stuff it.” My voice shook. “I
deserve respect, and I demand it. I’m not an hollow shell,
Minnie, so don’t treat me like one.”

I threw the sheaf of
papers into the air and stomped off toward the elevator. But there’s
a problem with elevators…no grand exits, no satisfaction from
slamming doors. I mashed the button repeatedly while I waited,
feeling humiliated and demeaned. Everything that I hated about being
stuck in this pretty-boy package.

Arms came around me
and tightened. “Deke, please. Let me explain.”

I didn’t want
to soften. I had principles, dammit. And they flew right out the
window when she pressed her body against mine.

“Please. I’m
so sorry I hurt you. You’re wonderful, warm and engaging,
sweet, and I’m at a loss how to deal with you.”

I leaned my forehead
against the cool metal. “You feel you have to deal with me?”
I snapped.

“That’s
not what I meant…I’m handling this all wrong. It’s
my mother. She’s…horrible, and I didn’t want to
subject you to her any more than I had to. I can’t say how much
I care about you to the press. They would crucify me, and it could
ruin my reputation, which would in turn ruin Verity. Do you
understand?”

I sighed because,
dammit, I did understand. I’d experienced the woman up close
and way too personal. I turned and she lowered her gaze for a second,
before bringing it back up and looking guilty and thoroughly upset.
She was pale, and I couldn’t stand it.

“You said I
was just someone who worked for you.”

“I know. I
didn’t mean it in a bad way. I can’t afford the scandal.
I’m trying to spare you, too, Deke.”

“I don’t
want to be spared. I don’t care what people say about me. It
just hurts to be referred to in those terms by you. I didn’t
like it.”

“I respect you
so much. You’re incredibly intelligent. I’m blown away by
you almost every second I’m with you.”

“Keep it
coming,” I said, sending my fingers into her hair. “I’m
feeling a little better.”

“I love when
you smile, your eyes light up like sun on the ocean.”

I kissed her mouth
and murmured, “And?”

“You are
beautiful to me. Every part of you. I’m so, so sorry I hurt
you.”

“Okay, I think
I’m much better…” I got lost in the way her mouth
roamed over mine and our breaths mingled and our breathing quickened.
Her hand slipped over me. I groaned. “Oh damn, I can’t
think with you doing that.” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her
hand away and said, “You don’t feel sorry for me, do you?
This isn’t a mercy fuck…”

She smiled
provocatively and met my eyes boldly. “Something tells me you
know exactly what this is, and it doesn’t have anything to do
with mercy.”

I laughed. “Yeah,
I’m not inexperienced, just never done it yet. Believe me, I
know my dick intimately. It’s just the first time…I
don’t know how that will go.”

“I’m
gobsmacked that you’ve never had sex.”