Final Call (Call #2)(32)
Author: Emma Hart

“And you have a crush on her.”

“I’m not denying I’d love to rip these blue panties off her. Fuck me.” He shoves a picture in my face. “Seen this, Day? She’s sexy as shit.”

I snatch the photo and throw it onto the floor. “Focus, you douche. Thinking about having sex with your model isn’t going to help you in this situation.”

Tyler shifts. “You’re right. Help me.”

“Fine.” I sift through the photos with him.

He’s right. Jenna is beautiful, although not in a classical way. Her nose is a little on the large side, her eyes may be too wide for her face, and her forehead is a little small, but combined with her porcelain skin, naturally pouty lips, and black hair, it works.

She also oozes sex and temptation. Sultry looks beneath her lashes, lips parted just the right amount, her back arched perfectly.

No wonder Tyler wants to f**k her.

“How do you do this job? In front of girls like this, dressed like this, and stay sane?” My eyes find his brown ones.

He looks at me seriously. “I wank a lot.”

“Wank?”

“I spend an unhealthy amount of time in my room getting myself off.”

I stop and stare at him. Shit. Is he serious?

He is. He f**king is.

“Way too much information, Ty.”

“You asked.” He shrugs.

“I’m sorry, how old are you again? Was it twenty-six or sixteen?”

“Twenty-six with the sexual temperament of a sixteen-year-old.”

I asked for that, really. I shake my head and filter through the last of the pictures, handing a small stack to him. He takes them and flicks through him.

“Thanks. You’re amazing at this. Ever thought of working in Stone?”

I push up onto the sofa, wine glass in hand, and sit back with a groan. “Not you, too.”

Tyler holds up a finger and packs the photos away. He puts his laptop on the floor between us, grabs his beer, and sits at the other end of the sofa. “Aaron being a pushy knob again?”

“If by ‘knob’ you mean ‘asshole,’ then kind of. He wants me to model for them.”

He looks at me like I’m crazy. “What’s the problem? I saw your pictures. You have it, Dayton.”

I shake my head and tell him what I explained to Aaron last night. I won’t ride his coattails. I won’t be somebody just because I have the easy road in.

Tyler stares at me for a long moment. “Would you let me shoot you?”

“What?”

“Hear me out.” He holds up a hand. “And f**k, don’t tell Aaron. You want to do it by yourself—let me shoot you. I’ll compile your portfolio and send it to some agencies in Seattle.” He shrugs like it’s so simple. And it is. If you’re not dating the CEO of Stone Advertising and Modeling.

“He’d kill both of us. I don’t know if I could.”

“Think about it, all right? You’re here for another week, so don’t dismiss it just yet. One of the upstairs rooms is a studio.”

I can’t help the way my lips tug to one side. “I don’t think I want to ask.”

“I’ll clean through before you use it.” He winks and takes a drink. “Will you think about it?”

Because it wouldn’t be awkward or anything. For some reason, though, I find myself nodding in agreement. I find myself promising that I will.

“Great. Now you can tell me what had you spacing out last night at dinner.”

I look away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And why you freeze every time someone says Naomi’s name.”

I say nothing.

“I’m a photographer, Dayton. Body is my second language.”

“I don’t like her. Would you?” I turn back to him, a Mia-mask on my face. Unaffected. Not caring. “She’s Aaron’s ex-wife and, by all accounts, a total bitch. That’s all there is to it.”

“You’re a bloody awful liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

Tyler shrugs a shoulder and grabs the remote. “Suit yourself, love. Don’t forget I know her. She’s more than just a bitch on steroids. She’s a bitch on crack.”

He flicks the top of his laptop down with his foot and turns on the TV. Some English drama I don’t know blares out, and I stare blankly at the screen.

I can’t tell him. I could ignore him now, watch this stupid show where they drop half of their letters when they speak, and let the evening pass by until Aaron returns from a late meeting.

But I don’t want to. It’s barely been a week and already it’s eating me from the inside out. My conversation with Naomi is burning away at me. The guilt is going to coil tighter and tighter in my stomach until I’m sure it’ll unwind, taking everything else I have with it, and I won’t just admit the secret. I’m afraid it’ll go so far that the only way I’ll be able to get it out will be by screaming it until my throat is raw.

“She came to my house last week.” I rub my thumb across my top lip harshly, looking everywhere but at Tyler. “She knows…something about me not many people do. I don’t know how she does, but she does. She’s not happy with the divorce settlement, and she’s using that against me.”

“She’s blackmailing you?”

I nod slowly. “Aaron doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to find out either.” I bring my eyes to Tyler’s. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t know why I’m telling you, except that it’s killing me.”

He says nothing for a long moment. Then he jerks his head in agreement. “She wants money?”

“A lot of it.”

“How much?”

“Too much. That’s how much.”

He reaches over and rests his hand on my shoulder. “How much?”

I close my eyes. “Two and a half million.”

Tyler draws in a sharp breath and withdraws his hand. “What could she know that’s worth that much money?”

“Something that could destroy everything Brandon, and now Aaron, have ever worked for.”

“I don’t believe it’s that bad.”

I put my glass on the side and stand, turning my back to the man who looks so much like the one I love. The one I’m trying to protect.

“Dayton.”

“This is ridiculous. I’ve known you for two days. I have no idea why I just told you that. Forget it. I’m going to bed.”