Читать книгу A Model Spy - Natalie Dunbar - Страница 15

Vanessa gave the French Double Slipper Tub in the master bath a longing glance as she used the chinabowl sink on top of the fancy wrought-iron stand. The inviting tub was built for two, but she saw herself relaxing in it alone with a glass of wine and scented candles.

Her face clean, she applied a fresh layer of natural-looking makeup and worked with her hair until it fell past her shoulders in artful disarray. Rummaging through her luggage, she found a white pair of slacks and a light, cotton camisole made of ragged, woven strips of colored fabric. The single gold button on the front hit just below her breasts and left a tantalizing strip of her skin bare. She spritzed it with a dash of cologne. As Vanessa stepped into a pair of Jimmy Choo print slides she added a small Jimmy Choo hobo bag.

Outside, it had grown hotter. In the interest of saving time, Vanessa took a taxi to the trendy Nemo restaurant, with its interactive food bar, dining room and other areas, including the terrace, garden and courtyard. She took a seat at the table that had been reserved in the Loggia, an environmentally controlled area that opened to the garden.

The place was filled with wrought-iron furnishings and modern hanging lamps. All around her, Miami’s beautiful denizens chatted, people watched and presumably closed deals. The menu featured several eclectic items with Asian influence. Vanessa decided on wok-charred salmon with roasted pumpkin seeds. Then she ordered a glass of chardonnay and settled in to wait for Mackenzie.

She finally spotted him striding through the entrance of the restaurant in flax-colored slacks and a short-sleeved designer print shirt. The expensive-looking digital camera he’d gotten from Alan dangled from a strap on his shoulder. Several women turned to check him out. Vanessa waved to show him where she was seated. Nodding, he approached the table.

“Sorry if I’m a little late,” he murmured as he took his seat. “I stopped by the office to take care of a few things.”

“Actually you’re right on time,” she answered, noting the way he gave her the once-over. She felt like asking, Do I pass? At least that sour look was gone from his face.

His gaze lingered on the skin left bare by her top and then fast-forwarded to her face with what seemed a determination to be businesslike. “Did you order?”

She tapped her menu with a raspberry-colored nail. “I waited for you.”

“Didn’t see anything you liked? If you’d like to go somewhere more exclusive…”

“This place is fine,” she answered in surprise. “And it’s full of models, tourists and businesspeople. Is the food bad?”

“The food is great.” The sour look returned to his face. “I just thought the place might not be up to your usual standards.”

“You think I’m a snob.” She’d spoken without thinking first, but it explained the sour expression, the curling lip in New York.

“Aren’t you?” He kept his tone even, but the look in his eyes made it clear that he didn’t like her.

“No, I’m not.” Vanessa gritted her teeth. “You don’t know me, Agent Mackenzie, so stop trying to make assumptions. My background might be different from yours, but I’ve been trained. I know what I’m doing and I’m good at it. If it’s too difficult for you to be pleasant on a personal level, try to be professional about us working together.”

Annoyance darkened his eyes as he leaned forward over the table. “The last thing I need to do my job is a bored modeling heiress trying to amuse herself by playing secret-agent games.”

Vanessa parried that comment with a smile. Mackenzie definitely had his briefs in a bunch. This was not an assignment she’d wanted and he knew it. “Apparently our bosses don’t agree. Besides, you know that I had to be convinced to even take this on.”

“True—” He was interrupted by the waitress, who had suddenly appeared at their table.

As the waitress bustled off to fill their order, Vanessa asked, “Do you know why I do what I do, Mackenzie? It’s not about being rich when so many people are poor. It’s about good and evil. Evil is kicking the shit out of good people, and if we don’t take a stand and get out and do something about it, no one’s going to be able to live on this earth.”

He pinned her with his gaze, righteousness simmering in the depths of his brown eyes. “You haven’t seen evil. Not in the world you come from. I wasn’t raised in the projects or the streets, but we were very poor. My parents scraped and worked hard for everything they got. The strong preyed on the weak. All around me people tried to escape the misery with drugs, booze and gangs. I do what I do because I understand, and I know I can make a difference.”

“And you don’t think we have the same goals?” Vanessa asked, suddenly aware of the urgency that had crept into her voice. There was no getting through to this man. Her jaw was so tight she could feel a vibration in her teeth.

Mackenzie expelled a noisy breath but didn’t answer. When his glance swept over her clothes and exposed skin once more, her hands formed fists.

“So what is your plan for this assignment?” Vanessa asked. She wasn’t going to let him distract her from her goal.

Mackenzie shrugged. “Until we get some leads, it’s pretty much talking to people and getting next to them.”

She wasn’t stupid. “Yes, but first we need to know who Gena and Bianca’s friends were and who they were hanging out with.” Listening to Mackenzie, Vanessa wished she were working this mission alone.

“You’re stating the obvious,” he said frankly.

Vanessa rolled her eyes and counted to ten. If she had to argue with him about every little thing, what good was he?

Their drinks came and Mackenzie took a long swallow out of his.

“I met Annika LeVatia, one of the other models on the shoot, as I was moving in,” she said, trying another tack. “When I told her I was concerned about being in the same building where the models had been killed, she tried to shift the blame to Gena and Bianca because they were wild, knew some bad people and had probably pissed somebody off.”

“And?” Mackenzie put his glass back on the table.

“And I got a weird vibe from her. I think she knows more. My credentials may be different from yours, Mackenzie, but I’ve got very good instincts when it comes to people.” That’s how I already know you’re a narrow-minded ass.

He perked up, drew a little notebook and ink pen from his pocket and made a few notes. “Annika has been staying there for about a year. There’s a good chance she does know something we could use. I’ll keep an eye on her, too.” His gaze turned inward. “Let me know if you come up with anything.”

Not trusting herself to say more, she sipped her chardonnay, certain she should have ordered something stronger.

Mackenzie flipped to the front of his notebook. “While I was in the office I put in some time researching and correlating the airplane trips that Gena and Bianca have taken in the past three or four months. There’s a steady pattern of visits to the Bahamas, Jamaica and the Virgin Islands. I’ve already contacted their charge card companies and ordered copies of their charges for that period.”

“Good,” she commented. “Let me know if you come up with anything.”

His head came up and their gazes locked combatively. Neither looked away until the waitress arrived with their food. It was delicious. Fortunately, Vanessa had sense enough to eat only half. The other half she had the waitress pack to go.

She watched Mackenzie eat double-chocolate cheesecake while she nibbled at fresh fruit compote. Her stomach whined. Embarrassed, she hoped he would ignore it.

Mackenzie glanced up, licking the chocolate off his full bottom lip. “Still hungry?”

She set her back against her chair, trying to convince herself that there was nothing erotic about what he was doing. “I have to watch what I eat.”

“There’s plenty here if you’d like to taste some of this,” he offered.

Sizing him up, she wondered whether he was really trying to be nice, or trying to make her feel bad about having to starve herself to stay thin for the camera. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she managed to say. She couldn’t eat any of it. Being hungry all the time was one of the things she’d hated about being a model.

Vanessa drank all her water and signaled the waitress for more. It helped fill some of the empty space in her stomach.

“When do we start shooting the swimsuit fantasies?” she asked.

“Day after tomorrow, so get some sleep.”

Inside, Vanessa bristled. Was he trying to say she looked tired?

“The shooting schedule should be in your welcome packet at the condo,” he added.

“Are you doing all of my shots?” she asked, wondering how good he was. Having been away from the industry for more than two years, she hadn’t heard of Mackenzie. Her friend Keifer Jonas, the senior photographer on the magazine project, had an excellent reputation and a portfolio to die for.

Mackenzie’s glance swept over her once more. This time it was purely professional. “I’ve got about a third of your beach and studio time. Keifer has the rest.”

“Any ideas?” She had to ask. Now that she’d come back to modeling, a lot of her future depended on the success of this magazine shoot.

“There are a couple of suits that specific designers sent down just for you. That’ll determine a lot about the setting, hair and makeup.”

Checking the food bill, she reached inside her bag for money.

“I make enough to pay for lunch,” Mackenzie snapped, reaching for the bill.

“This wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting,” she reminded him. “Loosen up, Mackenzie.” She put a fifty in the leather wallet with the bill to cover her food and glass of wine.

He dug a hundred and a twenty out of his pocket. Opening the leather wallet, he drew her fifty out and placed it on the table.

“Oh, grow up!” Vanessa pushed her chair away from the table and stood. With a clicking of her heels, she headed for the exit.

Outside, Mackenzie caught up with her. “Wait, Vanessa,” he said. “Look, somehow you bring out the worst in me.”

“I could say the same,” she shot back. In her heels, she was nearly as tall as he was. Facing him, she could feel the tension simmering between them.

“Let me drop you off,” he said, dangling a set of keys. “It’ll take a while to get a taxi.”

She wanted to say no. She’d had enough of Mackenzie, but common sense prevailed.

When he drove out of the parking lot in a metallic red BMW Z4 convertible, she was glad she’d relented. He didn’t complain when she asked him to put the top up to preserve her hairstyle, but a question still occupied her mind. Would she be able to work with him, or would she have to work around him?

* * *

Cody was nearly finished with his work in the photography studio when he got the call from Annika. There was a get-together at her complex this evening and she wanted him to come spend time with her, unwind and meet her friends. He seized the opportunity to mingle and check out the condo crowd. He wondered why Vanessa hadn’t told him about the party, but since they were still wrestling with being partners, he let it go.

At seven o’clock that evening, Cody entered Ocean Air, the complex’s restaurant. The buzz of conversation filled the place. It had been decorated to resemble a deck on a cruise ship with oak paneling everywhere and large, port-hole-shaped windows offering breathtaking views of the ocean. Several people sat on lounge furniture and captains’ chairs off to one side of the restaurant and bar. The rest stood in convenient spots and talked while holding drinks.

Cody waded into the crowd of residents that included corporate executives, lawyers, a couple of B-list movie stars and several models. He was glad he’d worn the more expensive Sean John outfit. The dress was mostly business casual, but it was the high-quality designer stuff.

He scanned the faces for people they’d discussed at the briefing and saw none. He didn’t see Vanessa, either. Annika was deep in conversation with two women on the far side of the room. As he started toward her, one of the models latched on to his arm and started chattering in his ear about the magazine shoot.

Annika spotted him and came to meet him. Her effusive hug and the quick hello kiss that followed were enough to send the other model on her way.

She didn’t know him that well, but Cody took it all in stride. He knew that Annika had been pushing for input on which of her photos would be used in the magazine. So far, she’d been unsuccessful, but she was a determined lady. She was beautiful, with long legs, enhanced breasts and green eyes, but Cody was unaffected. Working with some of the world’s most beautiful women on the magazine shoot had made him more discerning in what he wanted in a woman. Annika had a hard edge beneath her beauty that prompted him to examine everything she said and did.

Annika drew him over to the other side of the room and introduced him to her friends Sharon, Tasha and Toni. Toni, an exotic dancer, was the only one who wasn’t a model. She had a lush, sexy body that was centerfold material. Cody avoided staring.

The conversation started with the modeling business and moved on to music. Annika made sure that some part of her touched him at all times, and when she started talking about a “smaller gathering” in her condo, he knew what was up.

Cody had been seated for a good half hour before he saw Vanessa. The crystals on her pants sparkled in the light as she stood and talked to a Latino guy. As if she felt his gaze, she looked across the room and saw him. He suppressed a grin at the momentary flash of annoyance on her face. Then he put in a controversial comment about the rapper 50 Cent and used the resulting distraction in the form of arguments from the group to give him time to watch Vanessa ditch the Latino guy and make her way across the room.

Annika waved to Vanessa as she approached, then introduced Vanessa to her friends. When she presented Cody, Vanessa explained casually that she already knew Cody and that he was doing some of her photo shots, too.

Annika put a possessive hand on Cody’s arm. “We’re going up to my condo in a little bit to socialize,” she announced. “Want to come? You can bring a date.”

Speculation lit Vanessa’s eyes. Cody wondered if she thought she was being invited to a wild party or an orgy.

Vanessa inclined her head. “Sure, I’ll tag along. I’ll stop by my place on the way and get some champagne.”

As the group chatted about vacations, the Latino man wandered over. Vanessa had her date.

After a while, the crowd started to thin and then the group left for Annika’s condo. Along the way, Annika’s friends found companions and reduced the ratio of men and women to half and half.

Annika’s condo was built pretty much like Vanessa’s, but the colors and the furniture were different. Annika’s condo had lacquered Asian furniture and splashes of red throughout. Chinese rugs covered most of the hardwood floor in each room she passed.

Everyone sat in the entertainment room, which also served as the living room and dining room. Annika had used room service to order more appetizers. She drew several bottles of wine from a rack on the counter area in the kitchen. Vanessa placed her bottle of Cristal champagne with the others. The bar in the entertainment room was stocked with virtually everything else.

With a charming Spanish accent, Estevan, the criminal lawyer she’d met downstairs spoke to Vanessa about his legal exploits. One of his clients was big in the Mafia and was on trial for ordering a hit on a rival. What began as an interesting conversation turned boring as he began to repeat himself. Vanessa tried to change the subject, but he only wanted to talk about himself.

Several exchanges were going on at once. One couple was openly making out in a corner of the room, another couple was out on the terrace, smoking a joint. When Estevan palmed Vanessa’s breast and tried to put his tongue down her throat, she pushed him away and asked him to take it slow. Two minutes later he was grabbing her ass as she reached for her glass. She lost it—one backward jab of her elbow to his chest and he was coughing and gasping for breath.

“Would you like some water?” she asked in a voice made to sound concerned. She was glad when Estevan declined and left her to join the group out on the terrace. Across the room, she caught Mackenzie watching her. He looked amused. Apparently he’d seen the whole thing.

Scanning the room, she saw that everyone was engaged one way or another. It was the perfect time to check Annika’s condo. She stood and casually walked to the kitchen.

The room had been decorated in the zen fusion style, which Vanessa remembered meant beautiful materials simply used to transmute the ordinary into quiet grace. There was a stainless-steel refrigerator, matching stainless steel oven and a hardwood floor. Dark granite covered the counters.

Opening a honey-colored hardwood cabinet, Vanessa scanned the contents. It was filled with strawberry, vanilla and chocolate diet drinks, diet soda and enough powdered shake mix to last a month. Vanessa understood what she was looking at; she’d gone to the grocery store this morning and now her own cupboards looked like Annika’s.

The opposite kitchen cabinet was filled with every kind of vitamin imaginable, as well as a number of diet drugs and medicines to clean out the body. So far nothing seemed unusual.

Reaching up, Vanessa opened the small center cabinet and stared. Front and center among the spices was a clear glass bottle with a label that read “Caribbean Mama Spice Mix.”

Her pulse sped up and she suddenly felt hot and sweaty despite the air-conditioned room. She tore off a sheet of paper towel and, securing the bottle, opened it and poured about half a teaspoonful on to the paper towel. It certainly looked like spice. Folding it carefully into a packet, she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. Then she closed the jar. As she placed it back in the cabinet, she heard a noise behind her.

“What are you doing?” someone asked in an indignant voice.

Startled, Vanessa shrieked. The cabinet banged shut. She turned to find Annika standing in the kitchen doorway, glaring at her.