Cover Model (6 page)

“Back to the question. How did your career start? Was it book covers from the beginning?”

“Yeah, pretty much. My agent knows people in publishing. She sent out my body shots and I was doing my first photo shoot three days later with one of the Big 6 houses back east. They flew me out to New York and put me up for the weekend. Easiest money I ever made. Been working steadily ever since.” That part is all true.

“So you just fell into cover modeling?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds like the Connor I remember. You never did anything that was hard.”

I grin, “I’m all about doing things the hard way…” My dick’s only at half mast now, but I’ll be full sail the second the opportunity presents itself.

“Moving on. Why don’t you show your face?”

“I’m gonna show it to 45,000 screaming fans today.”

“But why
haven’t
you shown it until now?”

I don’t answer.

“Connor?”

“Next question.”

“Knowing you, Connor, it’s probably because you don’t want your face on America’s Most Wanted. Someone’s liable to recognize you and call in a tip which’ll put you in jail.”

She’s trying to get a rise out of me. It’s not gonna work. “Not too worried about that,” I chuckle. “I’m a nobody from the neck up. But you’re right. A wanted poster would make a better story than the truth.”

“So tell me the truth. I’m sure your fans want to know.” She says it like we’re best friends gossiping about whatever the fuck.

You ask me, she smells blood. Time for me to deflect. “Once they see my face, they won’t care why I hid it.” I flash my cocky smile.

“You’re kidding, right? Women will want to know all about a handsome
mysterious
guy like you. Believe me.”

I smirk, “Do
they
want to know, Warmoth, or do
you
?”

Frustrated, she frowns. “Yes, I’m curious. Even if I didn’t
sort of
know you, I’d still wonder why you’ve stayed out of the limelight for so long. There’s something romantic about a mysterious man with a mysterious past, don’t you think?”

Man, when did she get so relentless? She needs an answer with some meat or she’s never gonna quit. I smear my palm across my mouth thoughtfully. “Here’s the deal. If I showed my face on every cover, they’d stop hiring me. By cutting off my face, every book publisher can use me. Put makeup on my tattoos as needed, Photoshop new tattoos as needed or leave them out. It allows me to keep working. It’s just a business strategy. There’s nothing romantic about it.”

It’s the truth. Part of it, anyway. Nobody knows all of it. Except me. And I’ll take that shit with me to the grave…

—screa—

“But that’s not the only reason, is it, Connor?”

—screamscrea—

I shudder. “Sorry, what?”

Her eyes narrow like a predator but her voice is all soothing songbird. “What were you thinking about just now?”

“Nothing.” I pin her eyes with mine. “What was your question again?”

“I was wondering if there was some other reason why you hid your face for so long?”

—scream-scream-scream-scream—

“Connor?”

I clench one fist so hard the knuckles pop. I really want to punch something right now. Ted the photographer looks like a good option. That guy bugs the fuck out of me. But his back is to me and he’s busy doing whatever the fuck with his camera gear. I level my gaze at Electra. “I told you already,” I growl, losing more cool than I intended. “I hid my face for business reasons. That’s. It.”

“Sore subject?” Her voice is all sugar and spice.

“
Next
subject,” I snort.

She’s digging way too close to the bone.

There is something dangerous about this older and wiser (and hotter) Electra Warmoth. She’s not the same innocent little girl I last saw on grad night seven years ago. She’s a gorgeous siren trying to get me to crash my ship into the rocks.

Good luck with that.

“All done,” Bev says, finished with the makeup.

All done is right. I’m ready for this interview to be over.

Chapter 4

ELECTRA

We ride the elevator down to the lobby.

It’s just me, Connor, and Romeo. Romeo is escorting us to the convention hall.

Ted and Beverly are gone. After Ted finished with his photos, both of them left. Unfortunately, I didn’t get anything else out of Connor that I can use for my article. Once Ted started snapping photos, Connor ignored me completely. At the rate my interview is going, I won’t have anything substantial to upload before my deadline. Vince is going to skin me alive and hang me out to dry.

And I won’t get paid.

“Here are your badges,” Romeo says as the elevator descends, handing Rom Com Con 2015 plastic badges to Connor and I. Both hang from pink lanyards and both say STAFF. “These will grant you access anywhere in the convention halls. Don’t lose them. The security here is worse than the Olympics.” We both thank him and hang the badges around our necks. “Are you guys ready for the insanity?”

Connor wears tight ripped jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and motorcycle boots. Incredibly, he’s even sexier dressed than when he was naked. His ass looks amazing in his jeans. He pulls a black L.A. Dodgers baseball cap out of his back pocket and screws it on his head. Then he slides on a pair of coffee-tinted aviator sunglasses. “I’m ready. You ready, Warmoth?”

“Uh, yeah. Will you have time for more questions in the convention hall?”

“Anything for you, Lex,” he grins.

Lex? Did he just call me Lex? Nobody has ever called me Lex, not even my parents. What’s that about?

Before I can say anything, we reach the ground floor and commotion explodes through the elevator doors.

The lobby is mobbed. There must be hundreds, if not thousands, of people crammed shoulder to shoulder inside. The crowd is 99% women. No surprise there. Many wear pink Rom Com Con T-shirts. Most carry identical Rom Com Con swag bags at their sides. The chaos of conversation is so loud, I can barely hear myself think.

This is way crazier than I imagined.

“Where we going?” Connor hollers in Romeo’s ear.

“There’s a side exit in the spa. This way.” Romeo leads us around the perimeter of the crowd and down a long corridor. At the end of it is a spa waiting room with a Zen vibe.

A girl behind the desk dressed in white sees us. “I’m sorry, the spa is only open to hotel guests.
Not
convention attendees.” She looks disgusted at the mention of the convention.

“We’re staff,” Romeo says.

When the woman gets a good look at Connor, she stands up from behind the desk. “I’m Jocelyn.” She holds out her hand to shake, her eyes all over Connor. He shakes her hand, but seems distracted. He keeps glancing back up the corridor toward the commotion in the lobby.

“We should go,” I mutter.

Romeo leads Connor and I out a side door.

Outside, we pass by a huge luxurious pool, tennis courts, and a golf course off in the distance.

“Anyone for tennis?” Romeo quips.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we walk.

“We can get into the convention hall from the back entrance. If we go that way, there’s a bunch of meeting rooms where you and Connor can wait until his reveal.”

“Are they private?” I ask.

“What,” Connor says, “you wanna get me alone and have your way with me, Warmoth?”

I frown, “You wish.” Then I smirk, “But if I can get you to finish your interview before the reveal, maybe I’ll blow you.”

Connor stops in his tracks on the cement walkway. “Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised.

“No!” I laugh. I hope he didn’t think I was serious. I slow to a stop and turn to lock eyes with him. A moment passes between us that feels different. For once, it’s not the same old minefield that has existed between Connor and I since day one. Part of me wants to reach out to him with an open heart. The other part of me wishes I’d never mentioned the blow job.

“I’ll blow him if you won’t,” Romeo offers, breaking the tension.

Connor chuckles and steps in front of Romeo. He places his huge palms on Romeo’s shoulders and grins down at him. Compared to Romeo, Connor looks like a giant.

Romeo gulps nervously. In a tiny voice he says, “Daddy?”

I wince, “Why does that sound
so
wrong coming from you?”

“And yet
so
right,” Romeo titters.

“Look, Romeo,” Connor says. “I like you.”

Romeo brightens hopefully.

“But I don’t
like
you
like you.”

Romeo slumps, heartbroken.

Connor pats him on the shoulder. “But the second I go gay, I’ll let you know.”

“Will you?” Romeo gasps.

Connor chuckles. “Yeah.”

“Can we go?” I plead.

“Hush,” Romeo mutters. “We’re having a moment.”

Connor breaks into laughter.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

After showing our badges to security, which in this case is a half-asleep middle-aged woman in a red Rom Com Con STAFF polo shirt, Romeo takes us up to a meeting room in the back of the convention hall on the second floor. He opens the door to the empty room.

“Here we are!” Romeo’s smart phone rings and he pulls it from one of his many pockets. “Romeo Fabiano’s office, how may I direct your call? Yes… Who may I say is calling? Yes… One moment, please…” He mutes his phone and says to Connor and I, “It’s always good for people to think you have your own personal assistant. People take you more seriously.”

I don’t know how Romeo could possibly think
anyone
would take him seriously.

Romeo turns his attention back to his phone. “This is Romeo. How can I help you? … Yes … Yes, I’ve taken them to meeting room G … Yes… I’ll be right there…” Romeo gives me a sheepish grin. “Duty calls. You two are on your own. Or do you need me to stay and, um, help?” Hope shines from his eyes.

Connor snickers to himself.

I smile at Romeo. “We’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“My pleasure…” his face darkens devilishly. “…and hopefully yours. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!” he coos.

I snicker, “Something tells me there’s ten million things
you
would do that
no
one would ever do.”

“So true,” he grins. “You have my number. Call me if you need me to rescue you. Or join the fun…” He winks and makes a tee-hee sound. “Gotta go! Toodles!” He waves over his shoulder as he hustles down the hallway.

The modern meeting room contains a long wood table with a bunch of leather chairs around it. A package of unopened water bottles sits on the center of the table. Windows along one wall overlook the golf course.

Connor closes the door.

I jump ever so slightly. Or is that just my heart thudding in my chest? It’s not like Connor is naked this time, so there’s no reason for me to be nervous.

“It’s just me and you, Lex. What’re we gonna do now?”

“Not what you’re thinking, sleazeball,” I laugh and walk to the far end of the long table and sit down. “Pull up a chair. We can get through some more questions while we wait. How long do we have until your
BIG
reveal
?” I ask sarcastically, then pull my notepad and mp3 recorder out of my purse.

“At least an hour. Is that
long
enough for you?” He plops into a chair at the far end of the table and drops his boots on the tabletop like he owns the place.

“Is everything about sex with you, Connor?”

He peels his shades off his face and locks eyes with me. “Most of the time.”

I groan, breaking eye contact. “Can we get back to the interview already?”

“Why don’t I interview you?”

“No, Connor. I don’t have time.”

“I’ll make you a deal. For every question you ask me, you have to answer one of mine.”

I grimace. “Why does this feel like Truth Or Dare?”

“We can play it that way if you want. I always preferred the dares anyway. Way more fun.”

I sigh. “I need information, Connor. I can’t print your dares in my article.”

“Why not? Call the article something like
Truth or Dare: How I got the dirt on Connor Hughes
.

I smile, “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Okay. We can play your way. But we need some ground rules.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing involving you and me doing anything physically intimate.”

He shakes his head, “No dice. We go Y.O.L.O. or we don’t play at all.”

“This isn’t a game, Connor. It’s my job.”

“Don’t you live dangerously as a reporter?”

“Sometimes,” I sigh.

“What’s the most dangerous thing you ever did on a job?”

“I don’t know,” I say thoughtfully. “Let me think… One time I was interviewing some Mexican gang bangers when their safe house got tear gassed by the cops.”

“No shit?”

I nod. “Tear gas is the worst. I stumbled out the back door of the house before it got really bad, but I could barely see, my eyes were burning so bad. And I was puking my guts out all afternoon while I tried to explain to the cops I was just there doing a story. I mean, what about me says
chola
? Anyway, after that, I couldn’t smell spicy food for a month without wanting to throw up.”

“Damn, Lex. That shit happened?”

There he goes calling me Lex again. I nod proudly. “It sure did.”

Connor laughs, “And you’re worried about
me
? Fuck, Warmoth, you’re crazy.”

“Maybe
thiiiiis
much,” I say in a high voice while holding my finger and thumb a half-inch apart.

Connor stares at me for a long time, a mellow grin on his face.

“What?” I ask bashfully.

“What the hell have you been up to for the last seven years, Warmoth?”

I shrug. “College. Working. Not much else. That was
two
questions, by the way. Now you have to answer two of mine.”

“Two? What two?”

“Living dangerously as a reporter and what I’ve been doing the last seven years.”

“You always were good at keeping track of shit. I’m surprised you didn’t become an accountant.”

“Thought about it. But an office job isn’t my speed. Back to my question.”

“Go for it.”