Drop Dead Gorgeous (9 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The phone woke Clara even though it was almost two p.m. She groaned and sat up, trying to wake herself enough before answering it.

“Hello.” She still sounded a little rough.

“Did I wake you?” It was Monica.

“Yeah, but that’s okay. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I was up late last night.”

“You weren’t…I mean, are you…
seeing
Adonis?”

“Um….”

“Oh my god, you are! That’s awesome, Clara. I’m so glad you’re getting back out there.”

“Don’t say anything to anybody. It’s probably extremely unethical to date my client.”

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t be the first. And who could blame you? He’s gorgeous.”

“Yes, he is.” She smiled, picturing him in all his glorious nakedness, and making herself blush.

“Well, Jim Cavanaugh is in love with him too, but not in the same way.” She chuckled. “He booked him for a Kahlua ad Thursday night. Seven thousand.”

“Wow, really? That’s great. Send me the details.”

“I forgot to ask him the other night if there are any clients he won’t work for. He won’t mind doing an ad for alcohol, will he? He’s over twenty-five, right? He’ll have to show his ID.”

“Yes, he’s over twenty-five. And, no, I don’t think he’ll object to an ad for alcohol. But, you know, now that you mention it, he does have some serious food allergies, so don’t book him for anything where he might have to eat or drink the product.”
Unless it’s human blood. Maybe the Red Cross is doing an ad campaign.

“Okay.”

“Oh, Monica, I forgot to ask you the other night – who painted that nude above your blue chair?”

“Raymond Barrington.”

“Right. I remember now. It’s been bugging me.”

“I’m emailing you Adonis’s details now. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Clara dressed and ate in front of her laptop, scanning the details for Derek’s new job, and then looked up Raymond Barrington.

By the time Derek got there, she was full of questions.

“Did you know that Raymond Barrington’s body was never found?” she began after he’d given her a kiss.

He stiffened. “Who’s Raymond Barrington?”

“The painter that did that nude of Terence.”

“Are we back on that?”

“Almost all of his paintings are of men. Very handsome men with pale skin and light eyes.”

Derek sat on the sofa and took an unnecessary breath. She joined him, settling beside him, and continued.

“Except for one woman. A very beautiful woman with long blonde hair.”

“What do you want to know, Clara? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m just curious. Is he one of the men in your nest? Was that his studio in one of those modeling shots we photoshopped? Is the woman in his paintings Madeline?”

“You need to drop this.” He was very stern and she didn’t like it.

“Why do I need to drop it? I just want to learn more about your life. Is he one of your brothers?”

“If he were, it would be none of your business.” His eyes glowed and his fangs came down. She was afraid but she didn’t want to show it.

“None of my business? What’s going on, Derek? Why are you so angry?”

He stood and raised his voice. “You need to forget Raymond Barrington. Forget Terence. And don’t ever even mention Madeline’s name to me again. You got it?”

She stood as well, not wanting to let him know his intimidation was working. “Why not? Is something going on between you and Madeline? Is that why you won’t talk about her?”

His upper lip curled, showing his fangs and he leaned down closer to her face, but she still held her ground. Inside, she was terrified, both that he might hurt her and that she had uncovered some kind of truth about him and Madeline. It would explain why he wasn’t forthcoming with information about her.

Suddenly, he turned and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. He moved faster than any human could and left her breathless and shaky. She sat on the sofa and started to cry.

Was something going on between Derek and Madeline? She couldn’t imagine that he would be with someone else, but he’d certainly acted like she struck a nerve. Well, whatever was going on, he was pissed, and she didn’t like seeing him like that. He was positively scary.

It reminded her how different they were from each other now. He wasn’t human anymore. And neither was Madeline. She imagined him making love to another vampire – she pictured the blonde woman in the paintings. He wouldn’t have to worry about hurting her – wouldn’t have to hold back. He could bite her as much as he wanted and be rough with her. Maybe he’d prefer to be with his own kind. Maybe he couldn’t help but prefer it.

Clara waited for Derek to come back, but he didn’t come. She began to feel like a fool for waiting, so grabbed her sweater and purse and left.

Walking without purpose soon led her up to Sunset Boulevard. She passed a couple of bars, deciding quickly that she had no interest in sitting alone at a bar for the evening. When she came to Mel’s Diner, she went inside and sat in a booth.

She ordered a cheeseburger and a black and white shake – much better than alcohol for self-indulgence. She’d never been much of a drinker, but she did love milkshakes, and they were a rare treat.

Enjoying her meal, she relaxed a little and watched the people in the diner. She was the only person alone. The whole world seemed to be coupled up. Derek would never be able to share a milkshake with her, or even sit in a restaurant with her until after dark. Who was he with right now? Madeline?

After eating, she walked down to Sunset Plaza and watched the lovers at the outdoor cafes. She strolled past the windows of the closed upscale shops and was startled when she saw a photo of Derek modeling some expensive sunglasses.

It hadn’t been that long since he was a human just like she was, with a bright future ahead of him. What happened to him was a tragedy. He lost his life, and now he was something else. He couldn’t help what he’d become. She felt heartbroken all over again, feeling the familiar pain that she’d suffered when he’d been declared dead.

Clara started walking back to her apartment. When she turned onto her street, she could see that her lights were still off and she realized she’d hoped he would be there waiting for her.

She unlocked the door and turned on the light, and found him sitting on her sofa.

A wave of relief hit her as she closed the door behind her. She dropped her purse on the table by the sofa as she approached him. He pulled her to him and buried his face in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said into her sweater.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him to her, but said nothing.

“That can’t happen again. I probably scared you.”

“A little.”
Okay, a lot.

He looked up at her and said, “I love you. I hate Madeline. She killed me.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“She’s dangerous. I don’t want you ever to go near her. Do you understand?”

She nodded and bent down to kiss him. It was gentle at first, but he soon deepened it. She responded and straddled him, the passion quickly building.

His hand went under her skirt and roughly pushed the fabric of her panties aside, plunging a finger into her. She broke the kiss and gasped, hanging onto him. She rode his finger, pressing into his body, wanting more. He quickly fumbled with his fly and as soon as he removed his finger from her, he filled her with his erection. They both groaned loudly as she sat down, taking him in completely in one stroke.

It was fast and rough and she loved every second of it. He opened his mouth and she ran her tongue over his fangs, eliciting a moan from him. He held onto her as she ground into him over and over. She could feel they were both getting close so she raised her chin, offering her neck to him. He bit down hard and she screamed from the now familiar mixture of intense pleasure and pain.

They rode out their orgasms together and then he pricked his finger and touched her wounds. He kissed the quickly-healed skin, and said, “I love you so much,” into her neck.

“I love you too, baby.”

He held her a little tighter than usual when they got into bed. She was almost asleep when she remembered something.

“You booked a Kahlua ad Thursday night, sweetie. Seven thousand,” she said sleepily.

“Good. That’s good.”

He kissed her hair and stroked her back until she was fast asleep in the arms of her vampire, their earlier fight fully forgotten.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Derek was pleased with the progress of his new career. In the first week, he shot with Jim Cavanaugh twice and apparently that was all Monica needed to tell other clients. Soon, they were scrambling over each other to book the newest sensation to hit Los Angeles.

He’d lost a few bookings because the shots required daylight, but he and Clara maintained his eccentric artist argument and Monica reluctantly turned the jobs down for him. Within a few weeks, Clara had money in the bank and was no longer relying on unemployment benefits, and he had a schedule full of fat bookings in the upcoming weeks.

He hadn’t seen Madeline, thankfully, and so assumed she was satisfied with the deposits to her account.

He was enjoying modeling again even though he hated having to lie to people about his identity and always felt awkward avoiding shaking hands or having to say no to any food or drinks offered to him. He’d always enjoyed being around people and had loved to tease and joke with them, making every set he’d worked on a fun one.

But now he was different. He had a secret to protect, and it took away a lot of the joy of working for him. And he always felt like a fake using his deep voice and accent. But he still wanted to do it for Clara. He would do anything for Clara, and this gave her an income that she needed. He also hoped it would keep Madeline off his back.

Fortunately, Clara had stopped asking about Madeline. He’d only lost his temper with her that one time she’d poked around and, of course, later greatly regretted it. The look in her eyes during their argument reminded him what a monster he’d become. He knew he was scaring her, and later had thought how impressive it was that she’d stood up to him. She was a strong woman, and a brave one to have mourned his death, lost her job, and still kept going in spite of how scared and alone she must have felt. He admired her character as well as loved her.

He and Clara had fallen into as normal a routine as he could imagine could be had by a human and a vampire in a relationship. He’d learned to take only a tiny sip of blood from her when he bit, which seemed to be plenty for him, especially since he bit her every night. She’d begun taking iron supplements and had agreed to have her blood checked by a doctor as soon as she got medical insurance. Once she got caught up with her bills, she promised to buy a policy and get a checkup.

He was more in love with her every night. He’d never felt this way about any woman before, and it saddened him that he’d only found real love after his death when he knew he could never give Clara a normal life. They were in bed late one night when he brought it up.

“Before you met me, were you hoping to get married? Have children?”

She sat up a little and gave him her full attention. “I guess so.”

“Does it make you sad that I can’t give you those things?”

“Yes. I’m sad that your life was stolen from you. But I’m grateful we can still be together.”

“You know I can’t have children, right?”

“I figured that, yeah. But I can – I mean, as far as I know. There are lots of ways to make a family if that’s what we decide we want.”

“No child should have a parent like me, Clara.”

“You mean a kind and loving man? An honest person? A good provider?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, sweetie. But these are things we don’t have to decide right now. We’re still getting the hang of this, aren’t we?”

“I just don’t want to get in the way of the kind of future you want – the kind you deserve. But I also can’t imagine ever letting you go.”

She kissed him lightly on the lips and snuggled into his chest. “I don’t want you to ever let me go.”

They hadn’t talked about it again, but he’d certainly thought about it. Would he be able to leave her if he knew it was what she needed to be happy? He wondered what it would take for him to make such a decision and if he would ever have the strength to do it.

But until that time came, he was grateful to be in her life and glad to have found a way to help her make some money. His print rate continued to increase with each job in the next months – and there were many of them, but until it equaled his previous rate, he knew he needed to book a commercial campaign. The residuals from a commercial could provide the kind of steady income stream Clara needed. Then all his print money would just be gravy.

Monica and L.A. Faces came through for him the night he got to Clara’s and found a contract for a series of Mercedes commercials. It was just what he’d been hoping for.   

He loved the idea of the campaign. Each commercial would find him being admired by a group of beautiful women, but then the camera angle would change and reveal a Mercedes behind him that was the real object of their desire. He would look like a vain and arrogant chump, and the car would be the star of the commercial. He thought it was funny and was always the first person to enjoy a good joke, even if it was at his own expense. And he didn’t have to speak. No dialog for Count Chocula, thank god.

Two commercial shoots were scheduled a few days apart. The first one went well. It was shot in front of the Beverly Regent Hotel in Beverly Hills. By the time Derek arrived, all the close-ups of the car and the beautiful women had been shot. Once Derek had gone through wardrobe and hair and makeup, he hit his mark on the sidewalk in front of the famous landmark to shoot his close-ups. Then the camera moved across the street to shoot the master with him, the car, the beautiful women, and a sidewalk full of extras. Clara stood by and watched the filming.

Derek kept watching the sky, knowing dawn was approaching, and getting nervous until the first assistant director finally called out, “That’s a wrap!”

Clara looked concerned as she said, “I’ll get the car,” and turned to run to the parking lot where the cast and crew had parked.

Derek raced to change back into his clothes and sign his paperwork. When he jumped into Clara’s car, he said, “We have to hurry.”

“Want me to take you to your house?” she asked.

“No!” he said a little too brusquely. “I mean, no thanks – just go to your apartment, and I’ll get myself home.”

No matter how dangerously close dawn felt, he didn’t want to risk Clara knowing where the nest was.

Because of the hour, there were few cars on what were usually very busy streets in Beverly Hills and West Hollywood, so Clara zipped home. He ushered her from her parking garage to the front door of her apartment, ran in to make sure she’d be safe, and then gave her a quick peck goodnight before saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He started running, heading east towards West Adams. He stuck to the dark residential streets, running faster than a human could, but he had no choice and only hoped no one would notice him. He avoided the main streets with roaming cop cars, knowing he had no time for any entanglements.

As he ran through the park, the urge to stop and dig himself into the ground was overwhelming, but he kept running, determined he’d make it.

As soon as he had his house in his sights, he unlocked the door with his thoughts, and as he reached the front steps, he turned the knob, and threw himself inside.

He slammed the door behind him and turned the lock just before falling into a heap on the floor, instantly unaware of anything else in the world.

When he opened his eyes the following night, he reached out with his senses and felt two brothers in the house. He was lying in the entry way.

As he started to climb the stairs, Terence came down, passing him on the landing.

“I felt you come in last night. Cutting it pretty close,” Terence said.

“Yeah. That was kinda rough. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Derek got to his room as Raymond emerged from the bathroom in a towel, and said, “Careful about the time, Derek.”

He gave a nod and a salute and went into his room.

Derek had the night off, which was pretty rare, thanks to Monica, and he was looking forward to an evening alone with Clara. He showered and dressed, but as he was leaving his bedroom, Madeline came up the stairs.

“Not so fast,” she said as she backed him into his room and closed the door behind her.

He figured he was about to get a lecture about staying out too close to dawn, but instead, she opened the conversation with, “Billy’s been teaching me about search engines,” as she sat on the bed.

“Okay.” He had no idea where this might be going.

“Want to know what I learned last night?”

“Sure.”
Not really. I just want to get out of here.

“Most models don’t need both a manager and an agent.”

Shit.
“Well, that’s true, but I need both. I thought we already covered this.”

“I know you need an agent – something about having a license to negotiate contracts. But there is no good reason some manager should get fifteen percent of my money. Oh, and you’re changing agents to one called Beacon.”

“Beacon sucks. And I have a contract.”

“Contracts can be broken.”

“I told you before. This is my business. Back off and let me do my job.”

“You won’t be doing any job unless I say you will. I’ve given you a long leash up to now, but you need to learn who’s in charge here. It’s not you. Fire your manager.”

He didn’t reply, trying to think of a way to convince Madeline she was wrong before she interrupted his thoughts.

“I can put an end to this at any time. It can all be taken away from you. Now, take off your clothes and fuck me.”

He stood perfectly still, trying to work out what to do next. The thought of fucking Madeline turned his stomach. The thought of her forcing him to fire Clara made him furious. He just wanted Madeline out of his hair—out of his life.

“No.” It was the first time he’d ever really stood up to her.

Her expression didn’t change. “This is the last time I’ll tell you, Derek. Take off your pants and please your maker.”

He held his ground, just staring at her.

A sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. He grabbed at it and it began to intensify. It was blinding, searing pain and kept steadily getting worse and worse. His legs folded and he crumpled to the ground, curling into a fetal position. He instinctively tried to gasp for air, but it made no difference. He no longer needed to breathe and the attempt brought no relief. Clutching at his chest, he was vaguely aware of Madeline getting up and walking out of the room. He heard the door close behind her, but he still couldn’t move.

He lay helpless like that, in debilitating pain, for the entire night. He tried to get up several times, but the pain prevented him from moving. After hours of agony, he finally felt the pull of dawn and knew his daytime rest would end the pain. He wished for dawn to speed up, to put him out of his misery, and finally, he got his wish, and there was nothing.

He opened his eyes the following night and saw the floor. He remembered the pain from the previous night, but it was gone. He got up and sat on the bed for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

Apparently, this was the punishment that Madeline could inflict on them. He wondered what else she could do as well.

He went downstairs and found Terence building a fire in the fireplace. Raymond was standing at his easel, contemplating the painting of Derek still in progress. They both looked up as Derek entered the room.

“How are you tonight?” Terence asked.

“Better than last night.”

“You were punished.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“She wants me to fire my manager. Greedy bitch.”

“Does she know who your manager is?” Terence asked.

“I don’t think so. Just that I have one.”

“Well, then I guess it could be worse. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Raymond took a step towards Derek and stopped. He had pain in his eyes when he spoke. “I know it’s hard, but you have to think of the girl. I waited too long, and I’ll always have to live with that. You have a chance to save her – a chance that I blew.”

“I know.”

He wished there were some way to ease Raymond’s pain, but he knew that he couldn’t. What he could do was make sure that Clara didn’t meet the same fate as the woman Raymond loved.

Derek started his walk to Clara’s apartment, deep in thought as he passed through the park, working out in his mind a gentle way to fire his manager.