Black & White (Picture Perfect #1) (2 page)

I forced my brain to connect with my lungs and vocal cords. "See ya Saturday, William."

As he released my hand, the day seemed to go dark and gray. I watched as William turned and made his way out of the studio. My dazed stare continued until the bell on the door chimed, signaling his departure.

Turning in the direction of the sound of loudly snapping fingers, I discovered Jude with huge grin on her face. "Okay, Cinderella. Spill."

God, the woman's emotions swung like a pendulum! From one minute to the next, you never knew which Jude you would be dealing with. I shook my head and cleared my thoughts, coming slowly back to reality. "What?"

"Elizabeth Diane Huntley, how long have I known you?"

It was a rhetorical question, but I answered it anyways. "Since we were four years old and you threw a sloppy, wet, mudpie in my hair." I rolled my eyes at the memory.

Jude ignored the snide remark and continued her thought. "So, I'll ask this time. What magical spell did he cast on you?"

“As far as I'm concerned, he's a potential client. That's it, that's all."

"Soooo, that's the story you're going with?" Jude retorted.
She didn’t believe me, but it was the only explanation I had.

"Yup." Making sure to pop the 'p', I started to turn. There were no answers to any questions or accusations she had.

William was intriguing and mysterious. I had never felt anything like it before in my twenty-five years of life. The only problem was, the feeling scared the shit out of me. Just because I had never felt it didn't mean the signs weren't recognizable.

"Alright, I'm gonna let that go... for now." Jude's tone was suddenly hard again. "However..."

My chin hit my chest when her hand connected with the back of my head. I silently prayed to any God who existed to save my sorry ass from the she-devil that had conveniently appeared in the studio.

"...what the hell was that? How dare you treat me like a slave who sleeps on the cold floor by the fireplace?"

Poking the beast, I asked, "You mean like Cinderella?"

"If your father wasn't a fucking PI, I'd kill you now, chop up your body and feed it to those stupid barking dogs down the street from our place." Jude's voice held a little anger in it, but I knew her too well to take her seriously.

Time to poke a little more. "So, tell me, dear employee, when I ask you to do some work around here, should I say 'please and thank you'? Is that the way it is, oh kind and mighty Princess?"

"That would definitely help." Jude's voice went up an octave, and we both knew the bantering was all in fun. "How about you show me how sorry you are for treating me so rudely?"

Knowing exactly where this conversation was leading, I reached down and picked a fictional piece of paper out from the inside of my imaginary sleeve. Giving her an evil glare and a wicked witch chuckle for good measure, I asked, “First, what's your idea of punishment, before it get shot down with my secret weapon?"

"The bar; you, me and whatever man we find tonight." Jude put her hands on her hips.

No one could take Jude seriously when she struck her pose. She thought she looked frightening, but truth be told, she reminded me of Robin Williams' version of Peter Pan; only difference being the long, chocolate brown hair and big boobs.

With a diabolical laugh, I unfolded the imaginary paper. Jude knew I wouldn't ever pick up any man in a bar. The old Jude was coming back leaps and bounds. "Okay, the bar part sounds fine; no punishment there, but no man."

"And why would I agree to that?" Jude truly thought she had the upper hand.

Reading from the nonexistent paper, the answer was, "Cause the only men that women find on a dating website are losers. Next time you want to check out single men, don't do it on a work computer.” A victorious laugh rumbled from inside my chest when the blood drained from her face. Reaching out, my fingers came up under her chin. "Pick it up off the floor, woman. You don't want the men to think you're easy."

Turning away, my inner sanctum and the photos of my least favorite client were calling my name.

It was humorous to listen to Jude's heels click with attitude, but since it was rare for me to win an argument, this was a notch for me.

Any way possible, I would take the win.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shutting down the computer, I was grateful to be finished the changes for my pain-in-the-ass diva, Mercedes Clarke. It didn't matter how many more text messages came through to my phone... it was done. This attitude was normal for New York, but it was one of the reasons I had moved to Portland. New York was far too superficial for me.

Grabbing my purse from the back of the chair, I turned off the light and stepped into the hallway. Making sure the back door was locked, I walked to the front of the studio.

Mom had the belief that the world was full of flowers and candy. To her that meant no one had a bad heart, just bad luck which caused them to make bad choices. It was my way of thinking, too, for a long time. But after my second break-in, one at my apartment and the other at my studio while living in New York, thoughts on the subject changed.

Jude's voice floated down the hallway. Sighing, I hoped it wasn't another potential client. While I held an appreciation for every one of them, tonight was my night to relax and unwind. Slowing my pace and listening, it became apparent she was on the phone.

"...so we'll meet you at the bar."

Who is she talking to?

"Yeah, I'll be the one in black."

She's not wearing that little black thing she bought the other day?

"Okay, we'll see you there."

Stepping around the corner, I leaned against the wall, arms folded across my chest. With her four inch spikes, physical intimidation was lost on her. My only chance of getting the upper hand on her was to use my keen sense of perception. "So, Jude, who was that on the phone?"

Jude spun around with a look of shock on her face. Talk about a deer caught in headlights. The color was quick to return to her face and settle on those dimpled cheeks I loved so much.

"Fuck, Beth!" She exclaimed in a distressed voice. "It... it... was... umm... it was a client."

I pushed away from the wall and took a step towards her, as she instinctively stepped back. The scowl on my face was the only leverage I had. "A client?"

"Ye... yes." Her stutter was her only tell. Jude had been a stutterer since she was little.

"Okay, so this so-called client is meeting you
where
tonight?" I breathed while stepping forward.

She matched my step and took another backwards, her back hitting the wall behind her. She turned her head and realized what she had hit, before her eyes darted around nervously, trying desperately to find a way out of her current dilemma.

"Beth... I... I..." She was shaking in her boots. She suddenly waved her hand across her face. "Yo... your... breath stinks!"

Jude was my best friend, and therefore, knew me better than anyone else in the world. Her way of breaking the tension was to always say the most outrageous things. There were so many people who saw us as immature children, but our relationship did sometimes included childish antics.

Stepping back, I put my hand to my lips and breathed out through my mouth and in through my nose. "Liar. It smells like Red Bull," I chuckled.

She took advantage of the opening I had accidentally created and slipped through. "Like I said... it stinks." Jude reiterated and made a beeline for the front door. She was serious about trying to get away from me and the subject we were discussing. She had something to hide and I had a few suspicions about what it could be.

Jude slipped away before I could respond and the bell on the door chimed, announcing her departure. I didn't think it was possible for a woman to run that fast in high heels, but for Jude, it was a natural ability.

"I'll get my answers, Judith Snow." My voice vibrated off the walls of the empty room. The sneaky little brunette had left me with an empty shop which needed to be locked up, but by the end of the night either Jude or her suspicious man would pay for this deception.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Beth, would ya hurry up? God, you take so long to get ready." Jude's shrill voice vibrated through my eardrums.

I looked in the mirror, finishing the final touches to my hair. Jude would be the death of me someday, but, today wasn't that day. "I think it's time for us to put in a second bathroom," I stated when I opened the door.

Jude poked her head around the corner. "And why would that be? Not that I would complain."

It was unbelievable to think Jude was trying to play it off as being my fault we were still at home. Having arrived at the house after locking up the studio, Jude had already been in the shower. It had been over an hour before I'd had the opportunity to see the inside of the bathroom. Now, it was my fault we were going to be late.

Slipping past Jude, I slapped her on the back of the head, ruffling her perfect hair. "Cause, dear girl, we would've been gone an hour ago if you didn't always take so long to get ready."

The look on Jude's face was priceless. If it could be bottled as a perfume it would be call '
Oh, my life is over'
. Jude's hands flew up to her hair as she shrieked. For the second time today, the fascination of a woman in heels caught my attention.

"See what I mean?" I yelled down the hallway.

The purpose behind wearing heels and dresses eluded me. It must've been a model thing, to my way of thinking. Sneakers or flats and a nice pair of jeans always worked for me. 'Dressing up' in my vocabulary was throwing off the T-shirt and hoodie, and putting on a spaghetti-strapped top, or a low cut blouse.

"Beth, you bitch! If even one strand of hair is out of place, I'll..."

"You'll what?" It was time to remind her who was boss, and therefore, had the upper hand. "For someone who's been keeping secrets, I wouldn't push your luck, woman."

"You're gonna feel like shit for treating your best friend like this," Jude shot back as she emerged from the bathroom, running her hand over her hair, smoothing the edges. The tone of her voice gave more hints towards the mystery man I'd been hounding her about.

"Right. If I don't kill you over this mystery man, I'm gonna kill you for holding out on me." Having read some of Dad's books on serial killers, it was a completely feasible threat.

"Just trust me." Jude responded, as she headed for the front door, winking at me.

My heart swelled. If my suspicions were correct, I would be a blubbering mess by the end of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

JP wasn't the most modern club in the city. Actually, in truth it wasn't even a club or modern. It was a small bar hidden away in a far corner of the city. There were only two reasons we even came here. One was because it was the first club Jude and I came to when we both turned twenty-one. The other was because the owner, Jerry Clarke, was a friend.

We stepped up to the bar and placed an order for Jerry's special drink. It was funny because there was nothing special about the drink itself, just the name. The bar was 'JP', Jerry's Palace, and the drink was also called 'JP', Jack and Pepsi.

"That'll be eight bucks." The bartender announced, setting the drinks on the counter.

"Start a tab. We're celebrating tonight." Jude said, as she reached for the glass.

While I was about to ask Jude what we were celebrating like I didn't already know, the bartender stated, "No tabs allowed."

Realizing the guy was new, and therefore, unaware that we never paid for our drinks, Jude began to reach into her purse for some cash. “It's about time we paid for our drinks,” she chuckled.

“Like hell you will.” A voice answered from behind me. “Luke, these are my special guests. Start a tab, please.”

"Certainly, Mr. Clarke.”

An arm snaked its way around my waist, pulling me and Jude away from the bar. Jerry held onto us tight, weaving us through the couples dancing to the loud music.

"I'm sorry about that, girls. I need to remember to tell Luke about the tabs," Jerry declared apologetically, as he ushered us into our reserved booth on the far side of the room.

"No worries, Jerry. I would've gladly paid for the drinks."

“Never in this bar, Jude, my dear." Jerry turned and motioned to one of the waitresses. "Another round of JP's for my friends, Sabrina. As soon as their glasses are empty, I want them refilled."

"Of course. I'm putting these on tab?" Sabrina asked, with a radiant smile and a wink.

"Definitely, thank you." Jerry answered, turning his attention back to us. "So, girls, how's the business?”

“Coming along. Took a little while, but thanks to the opening special, we're building a profitable business,” Jude answered.

“Don't forget the ever-expanding clientèle.” I added.

“Speaking of clientèle, how are my sister's pictures coming along?"

"Jay, Mercedes is a pain in the ass," Jude stated on my behalf. Not the most diplomatic way of putting it, but it was the truth.

"I know she is, Jude. She's been that way ever since we were kids. I blame my parents for it. Mercedes is a spoiled brat who was never given a good whooping when she seriously needed it," Jerry agreed. "I appreciate you wording it so delicately."