Читать книгу Model Perfect Passion - Melanie Schuster - Страница 11

The next day, Billie rose early, as she always did, and as soon as she brushed her teeth she went in search of food. Breakfast was always the first thing on her mind when she woke up. The rumbling of her stomach usually woke her from a dream about food before the alarm clock went off. Today was no exception to that routine. After making an inspection of the refrigerator’s contents, she assembled a bowl of granola with strawberries, a carton of yogurt, a slice of seven-grain bread, toasted, with peanut butter and a glass of pineapple juice. That was actually a light breakfast for Billie. She worked hard and played hard and she liked food. She didn’t miss a meal if she could help it. While she was drinking the pineapple juice, she looked at her kitchen clock while contemplating making another piece of toast.

“I’d better not,” she said aloud. “I have too much to do.” She got up from the work island that doubled as a breakfast bar and quickly washed the few dishes she’d used. She swept the floor and made sure everything was in place in the kitchen before tackling the dining and living rooms. All she really had to do in those rooms was dust, and she could have actually skipped that step. Billie was a very tidy person and preferred that everything around her stay that way. This was partly because it was her nature to crave order, and partly because she was practical down to her bones. If she kept her abode spotless it allowed for more spontaneity in her life. She could entertain drop-in guests without running frantically from room to room trying to push things under beds and into closets, which was the practice of some of her friends. And she was too frugal to pay someone to clean up after her; that was money she could put into her IRA or her investment fund or her savings. Billie had a plan for her life and frivolous spending wasn’t a part of it.

Once she was satisfied that the living and dining rooms were perfect, she went to the bedroom and changed the sheets before making the bed. After the bedroom was tidied to her satisfaction, it was time to think about her own beautification. She lay across the bed and thought about what she should wear for her lunch meeting. She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling while she mentally assessed her wardrobe. “Hmm. Jason Wainwright is brilliant, educated and sophisticated,” she said while she ticked off these points on her fingers. “He dresses like a million bucks.” To underscore this point she turned over on her stomach and reached for the magazines that were stacked neatly on the bedside table. Each one had a story about Jason Wainwright and there were some very nice shots of him in business attire, as well as casual dress. “Business or casual? It’s Saturday, so it should be not so dressy. But this is business, so it should be kinda upscale,” she murmured.

She looked down at her long legs in her favorite plaid flannel pajama pants and then pulled out the hem of her pajama top, which was an old football jersey. “I’ve got to get some new sleepwear,” she said. “And I’ve got to get a dog or a cat or a bird or something. I obviously need someone to talk to because if I keep talking to myself someone is going to have me committed.” She put the magazines back and went into the bathroom to shower. A nice hot shower with her favorite bath gel would get her head together and probably solve her wardrobe dilemma, too. Sure enough, once she bundled her hair into a shower cap and stood under the pulsing hot stream, she figured out what to wear.

After her shower she wrapped a thick bath sheet around her dripping-wet body and went back to the bedroom to slather her skin with body butter and lotion. She’d learned from her mother that putting moisturizer on damp skin helped it absorb better. Billie wasn’t vain about most things, but keeping her skin smooth and moist was a must. Once that was done she picked up the remote control and turned on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. She smiled when she saw that one of her favorite shows was on and she danced along to the theme song as she put on underwear. “It’s time to pimp my ride,” she sang loudly, although she stopped when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?” she said breathlessly.

“Good morning. You sound bright and cheerful this morning.”

Billie smiled widely when she heard Jason’s voice. She sank onto the bed and focused all her attention on him. “I’m always cheerful in the morning,” she said. “I have to confess to being one of those obnoxious people who wake up early in a good mood every day. How are you, Mr. Wainwright?”

The sound of his rich laughter had a strange effect on Billie. An odd tingle started somewhere in the vicinity of her navel and an equally foreign warmth radiated from the same place. His words lured her back to reality and she had to stifle a soft sigh as she listened to him.

“Wilhelmina, please call me Jason! When you say ‘Mr. Wainwright’ I think my father is in the room.”

Billie raised an eyebrow. “Only if you call me Billie. That’s what’s on my birth certificate. Wilhelmina is the name I used for modeling and only people who don’t know me call me that,” she said in a pleasant voice that was nonetheless firm.

“I apologize, Billie. I assumed, wrongly it seems, that Billie was a shortened version of the other name,” he said silkily. “I certainly meant no offense.”

“None taken,” she assured him. “It was something my agent made up to make me seem more exotic,” she admitted.

Jason laughed again and the effect on Billie was even more intense. She shivered a little and looked around for her green terry-cloth robe. For some ridiculous reason talking to Jason in her sheer, scanty underwear made her feel exposed even though there was no possible way he could see her.

“How about lunch at one o’clock—does that work for you? I can pick you up and we can go from there.”

Billie deftly issued a counter suggestion. “I’m going to be running errands all morning, so why don’t I meet you at the restaurant?” He seemed to hesitate for a second, but he agreed to meet her. The name of the place he was taking her was Pax and he gave her excellent directions.

After they ended the call, she continued to sit on the bed to collect herself. Jason Wainwright had a remarkably potent voice. It had the same heady effect as a sip of brandy. She thought about their brief conversation at the party and wondered why she hadn’t noticed how sexy he sounded last night. Too much background noise, she thought. There was also music, noisy chatter and just too much going on. After talking to him today, though, she understood why Dakota and Nick felt compelled to caution her about Jason. It wasn’t just his voice—he had some serious sex appeal happening.

Shaking off the feelings generated by the phone call, she stood up and went to the closet. There was no time for idle daydreams. She had to get dressed to impress and she finally knew just what she was going to wear: a pair of high-waisted black trousers with her favorite turtleneck sweater, which was ivory cashmere and midriff length. She would wear her low-heeled lace-up boots and a short, black leather jacket for the perfect business casual look.

Billie arrived at the restaurant first and looked around with a little apprehension. Pax was light and airy with a minimalist lack of decor. Other than simple pale-oak tables and chairs and a few austere green plants, the place was devoid of decoration. There was soft music playing. Unfortunately it was the tinkling, quasi-classical, new age stuff that drove her mad. There wasn’t a hint of anything cooking in the place, although there were a few people scattered about the room who seemed to be chewing. In Billie’s opinion, a restaurant should smell like food. The servers wore neat khaki slacks and white tunics with mandarin collars and they spoke in soft, soothing voices that made her want to scream. I just hope he’s on time, she fretted. If I have to be in this place too long I’m liable to flip out.

Her worry dissipated when Jason walked in. In the broad light of day she could see him without any interference and this time she understood what Dakota had meant. As he greeted her and took his seat across the table, Billie took a good hard look at his smooth dark skin and his chiseled features. It hit her that he was one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen, and that was saying something, considering all the pretty men she’d modeled with. His tawny eyes were seductive and his lips were beautifully shaped. They looked like they would be the sweetest things in the world to kiss.

Heat surged into her face as she tried to squash all inappropriate thoughts, but it was difficult. He smelled clean and masculine and he was dressed almost like she was. He had on a pair of expensive-looking black jeans, an ivory crew-neck sweater and a black lambskin blazer. He also had on a pair of black leather boots that looked both costly and comfortable. He smiled at her again.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “I think you’re going to really enjoy this restaurant.”

“It’s pretty,” she said as she looked around again. “What kind of food do they serve?”

“Raw.”

Billie made a face before she could stop herself. “Raw? Like raw meat?”

Jason laughed gently at the horrified tone of her voice. “No, no, no. This is a vegan restaurant. They specialize in raw foods, totally organic and uncooked but prepared in a gourmet style,” he explained.

“Oh,” Billie said with a slightly deflated air. “So you’re a vegan?” This time she tried to sound interested and neutral, but she didn’t quite achieve that goal. The question hung in the air like a guillotine about to fall.

Jason laughed again. “No, I’m not. I follow a mostly vegetarian regime but I do eat fish and poultry.”

A look of pure relief swept over Billie’s face.

“So you’re not morally opposed to eating chicken or fish or cheese or eggs and things like that?”

“Not at all,” he said.

“Can we?” she asked eagerly.

“Can we what?”

“Go eat some cooked chicken?”

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a slight bow in her direction.

Jason was still smiling at Billie an hour later as they finished their meal in a cozy bistro that served great soups and sandwiches. He’d had a cup of minestrone and half of a turkey sandwich while Billie had devoured a bowl of chili and a grilled ham and cheese. Her appetite was good and her table manners were impeccable, something he noticed right away. He’d had an opportunity to observe many women dining, and the number of them who lacked social graces was appalling. This was definitely a point in her favor, although she didn’t need any more. He’d noticed other things about her, like her sense of humor and that she’d been direct enough to let him know she couldn’t deal with the raw-food experience at Pax. The women he was accustomed to were so eager to be accommodating that they wouldn’t dream of demonstrating their own opinion about anything. They also shared a tendency toward eating very little, especially the models. He was used to being around women who picked at their food in tiny little bites. To see Billie really enjoying her meal was a new experience for him, new and very sexy.

Being with Billie was an unexpected pleasure. She was lovely to look at, of course, but so were all the women he dated. There was something else fueling the attraction he was feeling for her. It was beyond the sexual pull that was the norm at the beginning of a new conquest, although he was feeling the familiar primal stirring as he looked at her flawless, animated face. There was something unusual about Billie Phillips. She was obviously bright, as evidenced by her intelligent conversation. She asked a lot of questions about real estate and that alone set her apart. He couldn’t remember a woman who’d prepared herself so well for a first date. Yes, Billie’s essence was holding his interest. It was a unique experience for Jason, but he rather liked it. He had to force himself to pay more attention to the words that were coming out of her mouth than the juicy temptation of her lips.

“Have you done much work with rehabbed houses?” Billie asked.

Jason gave her an indulgent smile. “By rehabbed I assume you mean flipped houses? Not really.” His smile turned condescending as he elaborated. “The real-estate business is getting flooded with naive amateurs who watch those little television shows about flipping houses and think they’re going to get rich quick by buying a few old houses, fixing them up in a few weeks and selling them for a huge profit. It just doesn’t happen like that in the real world and most of them end up losing their shirts.”

Billie didn’t reply at once, which gave Jason another opportunity to take in her fresh, natural beauty.

“I still can’t believe you’ve stopped modeling. You have the kind of classic beauty that would’ve carried you for another twenty years in the business. Why in the world would you walk away from a great career like that?”

This time her response was immediate. “I modeled to make money to fund my future and my passion. Now I’m going to pursue my passion,” she said with an intense flash in her eyes.

Jason leaned toward her over the table. He propped his head in his hand and asked, “And what would that passion be?”

“Rehabbing houses,” was her terse, dry reply.