Amazonia (3 page)

She loved it when things came together so quickly and
smoothly.

As she sat at her desk writing marketing copy for
Amazonia a couple of hours later, the receptionist knocked on the
open door and walked in with a huge smile.

“I don’t believe it, Layla,” Mindy said. “Why didn’t
you tell me you were a model?”

“Because I’m not.” Layla pushed back from her
computer and stretched. “Why are you asking?”

“The images for that new perfume you and Jefferson
have been working on are making their way around the office.” Mindy
released a happy sigh. “Girl, if I could look even half as hot as
you do in those photos, I wouldn’t be stuck sitting at home so many
Friday nights.”

A sinking feeling hit Layla with
Titanic
proportions. Jefferson couldn’t have taken her photos and given
them to the client, could he? Only one way to find out. “Do you
still have those images?”

“I should. They seem to have taken up residence on my
desk to provide easy access for anyone who wants to see them.”
Mindy’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “But don’t you already
know what they look like? I mean, they’re for your ad
campaign.”

Layla cast about for a halfway honest response that
wouldn’t make her look like an idiot. “Jefferson and I discussed
the images, but I haven’t had a chance to seen the finished product
yet.”

Mindy’s features cleared and she pointed to the door.
“Then get your booty out to the reception desk and take a
look!”

Layla left her office and hurried down the hall. Half
a dozen people were gathered around the reception desk, talking in
excited tones as they studied something on the surface. Silence
fell as Layla approached and they backed away, giving her a clear
view of the five photos spread out on the desk. Her heart skipped a
beat, and then outrage filled her as she gazed at the images of
herself—the same images Jefferson had promised no one would see but
the two of them and Tommy.

She snatched the photos from the reception desk and
stormed past the stunned Mindy, determined to get an explanation
from Jefferson immediately. Just when she thought she could trust
him, just when she started to believe that maybe he wasn’t the jerk
she had assumed he was, he betrayed her. She should have just told
him to bug off when he suggested she do a few sample poses to help
them with envisioning the ads. It had all been a ruse to get her to
pose so he wouldn’t have to hire a model.

His office door was closed, and she opened it without
knocking. Jefferson and Tommy rose from their seats and turned
toward her. Hurt and humiliation flowed through Layla as she
realized the photographer had been in on it as well. She’d always
thought he was in her corner, that he was a trusted friend. How
could she have been so wrong about both men?

She marched up to Jefferson’s desk and threw the
photos down. “Explain to me how the sample photos containing me
have suddenly become the official images for Amazonia.”

“Tommy brought them to me after you left, and the
client happened to see them,” Jefferson said, coming around his
desk. “They fell in love and refused to consider using the model
they picked.”

She crossed her arms and glared. “And you couldn’t be
bothered to tell them these photos are not for publication?”

“I tried, but they wouldn’t listen. What was I
supposed to do? Tell them they had to forget they saw the images
they loved and go with the other model?”

“Yes.” She turned to Tommy, her glare maintaining its
force. “And you. I thought I could trust you. Why do you take these
photos anywhere near the client?”

The photographer shifted uncomfortably, but she
refused to go easy on him. He cleared his throat and said, “Well,
Jefferson asked me to bring them to him, but I didn’t know the
client was still with him. If I had, I would have waited to deliver
them until he was alone.”

Even her current anger couldn’t prevent her from
seeing the sincerity behind his words. Tommy didn’t deserve her
wrath; he was an innocent victim of Jefferson’s scheming,
power-hungry ways. “I believe you. Would you please excuse us so I
can speak with Jefferson alone?”

“Sure thing.” Tommy scurried to the door and then
paused, looking back with a remorseful gaze. “I’m really sorry,
Layla. I never intended to let anyone other than Jefferson see
those shots.”

“I know.” She managed to give him a small smile,
which seemed to assuage his guilt. As soon as the door closed
behind him, she turned on Jefferson. “You lying, manipulating jerk.
You knew I refused to be the model for this campaign, but you made
sure it happened against my will. I should sue you.”

“Layla, please.” He combed his fingers through his
hair, his features weary. “It’s not what you think. I had no idea
the client would hang around so long, or I would have told Tommy to
wait to deliver those photos. But when he came in with them, the
client assumed they were for the Amazonia campaign and grabbed them
before I could stop them.”

“Why should I believe you?” Moisture stung Layla’s
eyes as she realized his betrayal hurt more than when she had
assumed Tommy had betrayed her. Jefferson had worked his way into
her heart, leaving her more vulnerable to his actions than she
liked. “You wanted me to be the model from the beginning, and now
you’ve gotten your way. I can’t deal with you being out to get me
any longer. Finish the Amazonia campaign yourself. You obviously
don’t listen to me anyway. Effective immediately, I quit. I’ll
write a letter of resignation to Marshall, but you will never see
me again.”

She turned on her heel and headed for the door, but
Jefferson called out and stopped her. “Wait!”

Leveling a glare on him, she crossed her arms and
waited. He walked toward her, stopping a couple of feet away.

“I’m sorry, Layla. I’ve been trying to fix this since
it happened, but the client is being difficult. Please don’t quit.
I don’t want to see you leave because of a mix-up. I’ll take you
off the Amazonia campaign, but please stay.”

She gave an unladylike snort and grabbed the
doorknob. “Forget it, Jefferson. This isn’t a situation where a
simple, ‘Oops! My bad,’ is going to fix it. I’m done with Prescott
and Hayes, and I’m done with you.”

This time when he called her back, she ignored him
and continued on to her office. She threw her personal belongings
into her bag, thankful she didn’t have many. Then she sat down long
enough to write a letter of resignation to Marshall Hayes,
explaining why she could no longer work for Prescott and Hayes.
Once she sealed it in an envelope and scrawled his name across the
front, she left her office and stopped at Mindy’s desk.

The receptionist gave her a concerned look as she
accepted the envelope. “Is everything okay?”

Layla shook her head. “No. Those photos were never
supposed to get out. They were for reference purposes only.
Jefferson blew it, and I quit. I can’t deal with him anymore.”

Mindy gasped and rose from her seat, leaning over the
desk to give Layla a hug. “Oh, girl, I’m so sorry! But you can’t
leave. We’ll miss you around here.”

Layla returned the hug, and then stepped back with a
sigh, feeling as heartbroken as Mindy looked. “I’ll miss you, too,
but I have to leave the firm for my own sanity. Jefferson is
driving me nuts, and now he flat-out lied to me to get me to agree
to pose for those photos. I can’t continue working for a man who
doesn’t respect me and who can’t be trusted.”

As Mindy’s eyes filled with tears, Layla stepped onto
the elevator for the last time. Never again would she see the
offices she’d worked in for the last five years. Never again would
she see Jefferson, the man she couldn’t resist no matter how crazy
he made her. The thought was like a spear to her already aching
heart as the doors slid closed.

****

The pounding music of Death Fire’s current set did
nothing to bring Layla out of her melancholy. She’d walked out of
Prescott and Hayes three days ago, and she’d been kicking herself
for quitting ever since. Why had she thought leaving the job she
loved was a good idea? Yes, Jefferson had seriously overstepped his
authority and completely disregarded her rights, but a quick
conference with Marshall Hayes likely would have solved that issue.
The problem was, if she hadn’t quit, she would have been forced to
see Jefferson every day. The sight of him would undoubtedly prevent
the wounds of his betrayal from healing.

That was a pain she couldn’t live with. It was hard
enough dealing with it when she never had to see him again.

One of Death Fire’s groupies, also known as her
cousin’s girlfriend, walked over to where Layla leaned against the
barn wall. “Hey, there’s someone at the door asking for you.”

“I’ll go see about it. Thanks.” Layla pushed away
from the wall, figuring it was one of the few people who knew she’d
hang out at a heavy metal concert. Why they would come here was
beyond her, but if they came out to find her, the least she could
do was find out what they wanted.

She wove through the dancing, screaming crowd and
made her way to the entrance. Nobody but the guy collecting the
admission fee was by the open door. He waved her outside, his focus
on the band performing at the other end of the huge pole barn. She
smiled her thanks and stepped outside.

The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy heat
inside. She drew in a soothing breath and looked for her visitor. A
man stood nearby, his dark hair tousled in a familiar manner.
Layla’s heart pounded as Jefferson approached, and she stepped away
from the door so the guy inside couldn’t possibly overhear. Not
that there was much risk of that with the volume of the music and
the audience, but she wasn’t about to take any chances.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to
notice how perfectly Jefferson’s faded jeans hung on his hips or
the way his green T-shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and
clung to his flat stomach. The man had to exercise regularly to be
that built. She forced her thoughts away from his looks. “What do
you want?”

“To have a civil conversation.” His words were barely
audible, and he sighed. “Do you mind taking a walk so we can hear
each other without yelling?”

As much as she wanted to tell him to bug off,
curiosity won out. “Yeah, whatever.”

The noise faded as they walked down the car-lined
dirt track toward the road. Brilliant moonlight, supplemented by an
abundance of stars, illuminated their path and made it possible to
see each other. Layla almost wished it was cloudy so she wouldn’t
have to see the man who haunted way too many of her thoughts. Once
the music was a faint background that blended with the chirp of
crickets, she stopped and turned toward Jefferson.

“How did you find me out here?”

He smiled. “That hoodie you wore the day of your
photo shoot. I did an internet search for Death Fire and found
their blog. To my surprise, I discovered your cousin is the lead
singer and you’re a regular at their shows. It didn’t take much to
figure out you would likely be here tonight.”

Layla silently cursed her cousin’s openness on the
band’s blog. “Well, you found me. Now, what do you want?”

“To apologize again for the mix-up with the photos.”
He looked out over the fields around them, and then sighed as he
returned his gaze to her. “You have no idea how much I’ve been
kicking myself since it happened, even before you found out about
it.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that the entire company
saw the photos that were never to see the light of day.”

“I know.” He lifted a hand then let it fall to his
side. “I’ve been working to fix it, and I finally managed to
convince the client to go with a different model. I had Tommy
delete all of the photos he took of you, and the prints are in an
envelope in my car. You can do whatever you want with them.”

Could it be he hadn’t meant to betray her trust after
all? It certainly sounded like he’d worked hard to rectify the
situation, which didn’t seem like something a jerk would do. Maybe
it really had been an accident, as he and Tommy had claimed. “Why
didn’t you destroy the prints?”

“Because I keep hoping you’ll realize how beautiful
you are.” Jefferson stepped close and gently grasped her arms. Heat
raced through her at his touch, making it hard to focus on what he
was saying. “Layla, I know you don’t believe me, but you could
easily be a model. You’ve got the looks for it, but you also have
something else. A spark in your personality and a natural grace
that allow you to become whatever you need to be in any
situation.”

She looked away from his sincere gaze. “You’re
imagining things.”

“No, I’m not.” He rubbed her arms, sending an
electrified longing through her veins. “Think about it. Until last
week, I had no idea about this side of you. You’ve always been the
professional businesswoman who could handle clients with ease and
come up with the most brilliant and successful ad campaigns. When
you’re with your cousin’s band, I’d be willing to bet they have no
idea how capable you are in the business world. They probably just
see you as the laidback woman who enjoys heavy metal and helps haul
her cousin’s equipment to various venues.”

“It’s easier to keep the two parts of my life
separate. They aren’t particularly compatible.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. They can go together, and
often do in the music industry.” Jefferson reached up and stroked
her cheek. “You’re versatile in your talents, loyal to your
friends, and you’re gorgeous on top of that. I really wish you
could see all of that, and allow yourself to use all of your
talents instead of hiding some of them depending upon where you
are.”

Layla looked deep into his eyes, seeing more warmth
than a professional relationship allowed. Her pulse picked up speed
and the protective shell around her heart melted. This wasn’t a
business colleague trying to talk her into returning to her job.
This was a man who cared about her, who wanted to see her be true
to herself and live up to her potential.