“Trevor’s not really a womanizer,” Mark interjected as he pushed her seat forward so he could get out of the backseat. “He’s just teasing you. He’s a photographer. It might interest you to know he’s the one who’ll be doing your campaign with Alexander. The nightgown was probably leftover from a shoot and got stuffed there because there was nowhere else to put it.”
Helen stood with her hands on her hips. She wasn’t sure she believed him about the nightgown. If Trevor was really such a chaste guy, she bet he’d have a few more buttons on his shirt done up.
“You’re the model who was chosen to pair with Alexander?” Trevor suddenly asked incredulously—like he didn't know.
“Yes,” Helen answered, taking Mark’s offered hand and going into the restaurant.
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No,” Trevor said, before he took charge and arranged for a table for them with the hostess. When they sat down in their booth he finished his thought by saying, “No, there isn’t anything wrong with that. It’s just that I had a conversation with Dominic about the woman he was hoping they’d get before the decision was made.”
“Trevor has a meeting with Collin about the campaign on Monday,” Mark explained as he picked up Helen’s menu and cuddled up to her. “What would you like?” he asked. He was clearly trying to draw the conversation away from the topic at hand.
Helen looked at him with her lips parted. She wanted to press Trevor and find out what Dominic said about her, but Mark wouldn’t like it one bit if she had to know what the devil had to say.
“What are you ordering?” she asked, almost choking on the words as she said them. Then she took the menu very firmly in her hands and investigated it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
It was lucky for her Trevor wouldn’t let the subject drop. “Wait a second. ‘Vera’ is short for Helen, right?”
Helen nodded and said, “I think I was the only person Dominic recommended.”
“I was expecting someone different,” Trevor admitted.
Mark was annoyed. He clearly didn’t want to talk or think about it and he put his arm on the booth above Helen rather than holding her. “Fine,” he said like he had resigned himself to his fate. “What did Domi say?”
“Nothing much, but his description kind of indicated someone extremely exotic with a personality strong enough to squelch Alexander’s.”
“Is that even possible?” Mark asked. Trevor shrugged his shoulders.
“Is Alexander really that hard to work with?” Helen asked, remembering what Dominic had told her back at his apartment.
At first, neither of them looked like they wanted to answer her.
“Come on,” she persisted. “It’s not like you’re telling a journalist who’s going to write an article. I’m going to be working with him. It can’t be such a bad thing to give me a heads up.”
“Regardless, I don’t feel comfortable commenting,” Trevor said stiffly. “It wouldn’t be professional, but Mark here can say whatever he wants.”
“Only as her agent,” Mark finished, turning to look at Helen. “Alexander has a history of being difficult. He's spoiled. I've never seen it firsthand, but his fits of ego and drama have made headlines.”
Helen frowned, “Dominic already explained all that to me. I was sort of hoping that you could give me an example of bad behavior.”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Trevor said. “No doubt it’ll be a surprise, but don’t worry. Mark and I will be there to protect you—Dominic too. I’m sure he doesn’t want a blood bath any more than the rest of us.”
Helen looked at the menu, but she couldn’t focus on it. Dominic thought she would make a good model because she would be able to sense what the photographer wanted and if Trevor was the photographer then she would have to please him. Suddenly, she thought to start asking him questions.
“What sort of concept do you envision for the ad campaign?” she asked, looking across the table at Trevor.
Trevor appeared amused as he answered, “Well, I haven’t got all my thoughts together yet. My meeting with Collin isn’t until Monday and I have to work with what he has in mind.”
Helen nodded thoughtfully and said, “Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk about it on a Friday night when you’re not supposed to be working, but I have never posed as a model before and I’m really worried that I won’t be able to deliver quality shots.”
Trevor smiled and examined his menu, “Yeah, I heard you worked as an escort. That’s a very interesting profession, but if you can convince Dominic you can do it then you probably can. He knows a lot about this business.”
“Do you look down on me, because that’s how I decided to put myself through school?” she asked abruptly because it seemed like he might be laughing at her.
Trevor cleared his throat and answered steadily, “Well, I’ve done a lot of campaigns where it felt like the product being sold was sex. I can’t say I’m comfortable with that kind of business, but at least I know my models are only on paper and no one believes for one second they can actually be with one of them. The business of escorting someone seems different. It seems to me that business takes something like the image I create and takes it to a different level; to a real person a customer can see and touch. That’s the part that makes me uncomfortable. Hopefully, no one actually believes they can be with their escort. It’s a game, but after the experience is over, the customer has a memory of a real woman who held his hand and danced with him. He can remember her fragrance and the feel of her breath on his cheek. It would be hard for a lonely man to put the memory aside and he may never get someone equal to the escort in a real relationship. The damage might be irreparable. To put it bluntly, it seems like a dangerous game to me.”
“How would you know how a lonely man feels? You probably have all sorts of desirable women fighting for your attention daily,” Helen countered.
Trevor inclined his head like he agreed, but then he said, “Yeah, a model can act like she’s made of gold when she’s in front of a camera lens, just like you can act like you enjoy the company of the man you’re escorting, but the truth behind the facade is seldom as pleasant as the act. Needless to say, I don’t care for models. My last two girlfriends were personal assistants without the faintest hope of becoming models themselves. And even though neither of those relationships worked out, at least I never wonder whether they really cared for me. They were honest women without the slightest hint of pretension.”
“Then you do look down on me,” Helen finished, fighting to get control of her emotions. It would be terrible if she cried.
“Not at all,” Trevor said, reaching across the table and grasping Helen’s fingers in a way that suggested he was used to touching women and consoling them. “Mark told me about the trick you pulled over at the apartment when you took off your wig and were determined that he should know you for who you truly are. As long as you can keep sight of that, then you haven’t compromised what’s real for the synthetic." Then he let go of her hand and said smoothly, “I think I’ll have the prime rib. Have you decided what you want, Mark?”
With those words, that particular conversation was over.
When Mark dropped Helen off at her apartment he stopped in front of her door and said, “Now you see why I couldn’t leave Trevor at home tonight. He was one hundred percent determined to meet you.”
“Even though you didn't tell him I was the model who got the job? He wanted to see what kind of girl I was because I'm your new girlfriend?” Helen questioned, positive Trevor’s speech had only been to ensure Mark wasn’t going to get jerked around by a bratty girl. It made her less angry at him and more sensible to his good points, even if she found his immodesty embarrassing.
“Something like that,” Mark said, scratching the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes he’s not a very reasonable guy. I wanted to be alone with you tonight. I’m sorry that our date was messed up by bringing him. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you.”
“It’s okay. We see each other all the time. I’m your assistant, remember? As long as Lewis boys have a thing for personal assistants—I’m in. Right?”
“But I feel like everyone is conspiring to keep us apart.”
At that exact moment, Trevor honked his car horn to hurry Mark.
“See what I mean?” Mark complained. His eyes looked tired. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked, taking hold of her hands.
Helen didn’t want to appear like she was thinking about it, but she was. She was exhausted from the weekend’s activities. Finally, she answered, “As long as you don’t have anything grandiose planned. I’m really tired and I need to mellow or I’m not going to be any good to you at work on Monday.”
Mark smiled and said gently, “How about a date in a hammock with a cold drink and a book.”
“Are you going to supply all that?” Helen asked.
He put his arms around her, “Just so long as you realize you won’t be in that hammock alone. You can even nap if you want to. I’ll let you use my arm as a pillow,” he offered tantalizingly.
Helen felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. He was trying so hard to be nice to her. It was irresistible. “If that’s what you have in mind, then you can pick me up whenever you want.”
“Good,” he said, as he bent down to kiss her.