He patted his pockets. Pointless, since smoking was a habit he’d quit along with so many others when his brother Brian had died.
The door buzzer sounded.
“That’ll be the happy couple,” Bianca said. “You get matches from Samantha and I’ll get them in here. Hurry back. I might need you to convince Joey to cooperate.”
God, would he have to hold the guy down and strip him? Samantha was right. This was nothing like snapping sunlit vistas. Wildlife didn’t primp and preen and prance around in costumes. Getting a load of Joey in his undies sounded like a bad breakfast.
He headed for the studio where Samantha was photographing Misty Simone. The woman’s breathy gasp made Rick wonder if they were shooting porn after all, but once he stepped inside, he saw that she was watching a slide show on a computer monitor.
Each image appeared, then faded, accompanied by music. In the shots, Misty lay on her side on satin sheets, her robe slightly open, looking remarkably hot. Not shy or silly or even overweight, and the goofy hat looked like it belonged on her head.
“How did you do that?” Misty asked Samantha, her voice faint with amazement. “I look sweet and sexy…not even fat.”
“Lights and angle and you. That’s all there is to it.”
“Tony won’t believe it’s me.”
“Sure he will. He’ll see you clearly again. He’ll remember why he fell in love with you.”
Sawyer was so damned earnest, Rick was ready to believe that Tony Simone, as sensitive as the longshoreman he’d been in Jersey, would drop to his knees at his wife’s feet and beg her forgiveness for being a neglectful prick.
The last photo faded, the music stopped and the screen went black.
“Bianca was right,” Misty said. “You do make miracles.”
“I just capture what’s there.” Samantha caught sight of him. “Yes, Rick?”
“Uh…oh, I—” He realized he was standing there like a dick-dragging idiot. Why had he come again? “Matches. We need some.”
“There’s a lighter on that shelf.” Sawyer nodded at the spot. “Everything ready in there?”
“Lights and set anyway. Bianca went after Angela and Joey.”
“They won’t know what hit them.”
“No kidding. She’s something else.” They shared a smile that felt comfortable, so he pushed a little. “She thinks you should hire me to give you more free time.”
“She does, does she?” She tilted her head at him.
“I think she’s right.”
“You do?”
“I’ll make your life easier, I swear.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, searching him out, prying, asking him about the heat simmering between them. He knew what she meant, but he had a job to do. He had to keep her guessing for a while, at least.
“Hire me,” he said with a wink. “You know we both want it.”
He watched a tremor pass through her and felt an answering quiver in his own limbs. Get a grip. He felt so rusty at this flirting thing. He’d been kind of isolated lately. His wife hunt had been going way, way slow.
Or maybe it was something about Samantha.
Probably being undercover. He hated undercover.
Samantha watched Rick go back to Bianca, admiring his muscular behind in well-worn jeans. He’d flirted with her. At least that. But he also wanted the job. How about the job and dessert?
She could hardly date an employee. Assistant by day, fantasy man by night? Too weird, even for Samantha the Bold. Rick was either her assistant or her date, not both, and the next two hours would tell her which.
She said goodbye to Misty and sent her off to change, warmed by her parting words: This means more than you know, Samantha. Even if Tony doesn’t change, I’ll never see myself the same again. Mission accomplished. Samantha was thrilled.
In studio two, however, things weren’t going so well. The newlyweds, sitting on opposite ends of the chaise, looked miserable. Joey slumped, fully clothed, hanging his head like he awaited a prostate check. Angela sulked in a red lace teddy, arms folded, legs crossed, foot wagging angrily.
Bianca flung up her arms. “I give up, Sammi!”
“Joey’s ruining everything,” Angela cried.
“I’m not taking off my pants,” Joey said. “I am no fag.”
“Don’t say fag,” Angela said. “Being gay is perfectly okay. Have some respect.”
“You have some respect and don’t make me into a fool.”
Angela bickered back, but Rick cut through her words in a take-charge voice. “Just do it, man.”
Everyone stared.
“Look, if your lady wants a shot of you in a bird suit with feathers sticking out your ass, put on the damned suit. Hell, if it makes her happy, cluck a little.”