“His what?”
“That’s broad, I know. Basically he wants your face to be associated with his company and he wants me to design ads based on that.”
Dumbfounded, she fell back against the pillows.
“The money would be good. I’m thinking six figures over the life of, say, a three-year contract.”
She exhaled slowly, her thoughts one big jumble. This was her chance to get out of the construction business. And she wouldn’t have to eat crow, either. Not when the job had landed in her lap. But did she want to get back in that crazy business? She was older now and a little out of shape, less tolerant of sadistic photographers who liked to harp on every little flaw.
God, she’d be like Wendy—desperate, chasing after the next gig, pathetically ignoring the fading of youth. She took a deep calming breath and looked at Eric. “I don’t think—”
He put a refraining finger to her lips. “I know what you’re going to say. But this is different. No cattle calls. No worrying about paying the rent on time. Best of all, no competition. This is a sure thing.”
Of course, he knew what she was thinking. They’d had a similar conversation before about why she didn’t like modeling. But he didn’t know the rest. She already had a job. And it was a far cry from smiling pretty for the camera.
“Look, you’d call the shots on this. We’d work around your schedule. There’d be print ads, commercials, billboards—the usual. I haven’t done anything on it yet. Not until I talked to you.” He gave her a wry smile. “You realize you still haven’t told me what you do.”
“No?”
He gave her a long-suffering look, and then his gaze narrowed. “You’re a lawyer, too, aren’t you?”
“God, no.” She hesitated. “Three in the family are enough.” Now would be the perfect time to tell him. On the other hand, if she accepted the offer, why bother? He wouldn’t need to know. What she did for a living now would be irrelevant.
Her mother’s words came back to her and she tensed. Not that Dallas was embarrassed. It wasn’t as if she were a stripper or made porn movies, for God’s sake.
Eric touched her arm, bringing her out of her preoccupation. “What are you thinking?”
“Frankly, about how much I have to do today. And now this.” She waved a frustrated hand. “Well, I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”
“Right.” He squeezed her arm. “Maybe we could meet for dinner? I’m sure you’ll have questions.”
“I have one now. How will my decision affect you?”
He leaned his head back and glanced at the ceiling, one side of his mouth lifting slowly. “Horn’s an important client and he wants you.”
“And your boss has told you to make it happen.”
“Of course he wants to keep Horn happy. But this has nothing to do with us. Whatever decision you make has to be what’s best for you.”
She took a deep breath. Her decision would have more to do with their relationship than he thought. The image he created in Horn’s ad campaign would be exactly the kind of woman Eric wanted. At the thought, her defenses started to rise. Stupid, since she couldn’t blame him for something he didn’t even know was happening.
Besides, she was hardly being fair, having withheld information about herself. Hadn’t she also created a certain image? A very wrong image. The idea stung.
“I’ll have to let you know later about dinner,” she said and started to get up.
“Wait.” He tugged on her arm, coaxing her back beside him. He drew the back of his hand down her cheek. “No matter what, we won’t let whatever happens affect us, okay?”
She nodded. “Deal.”
Their lips met, and she wanted to crawl back under the covers and pretend he was right. That everything would be okay. Only somehow deep down she knew better.
WHEN DALLAS ANSWERED THE DOOR, she was surprised to find not just Nancy and Yvette but also Jan and Sally standing in the corridor.
“Hope you don’t mind us tagging along,” Jan said, leading the others into the apartment and then heading for the kitchen with a grocery sack in each hand. She planted both bags on the counter, which pretty much eliminated room for anything else.
“I’ll grab a beanbag chair from my room.” Dallas hesitated, tamping down her annoyance as she watched Jan take out six-packs of beer and diet cola and a box of cheese crackers.
This wasn’t supposed to be a party. They’d said they wanted to talk to her. Fine. But she had other things to do this afternoon. Like mope around the apartment in indecision. Talk to Wendy and Trudie. Let them tell her what an idiot she was for not immediately signing on the dotted line before Horn changed his mind.
Her head hadn’t stopped spinning since Eric had told her about Horn’s offer. Why she had the slightest hesitation, she couldn’t explain. She didn’t even get why the idea made her so edgy. A contract would lock her in and give her income and insurance while she figured out what she wanted to do when she grew up. Most people would consider the decision a no-brainer. A normal per son would have jumped at the chance.
She brought back the leather beanbag chair—a hold-over from her college-dorm days—and placed it under the small window that offered an excellent view of the dirty brick building several yards away.
“You wanna beer or a soda?” Jan asked as she handed a cola to Yvette. Nancy and Sally already had beers in their hands.
“Uh, neither, thanks.” Dallas sat on the floor near the beanbag chair. “What’s going on?”
Jan grabbed a cola and they all sat down. When the other three looked to Jan, she snorted and said, “We came up with something that the other women might go for.”
Dallas let out a slow breath. This was good. Very good. They’d come up with an idea on their own. They were looking to Jan for leadership and not Dallas. This was excellent, in fact. “What’s that?”
“We’re gonna do the petition thing. Kind of. We’re thinkin’ maybe more like a letter.” Jan shrugged, glanced at the others. “You know, real detailed, like, about the shit that’s been going on.”
“But no names mentioned,” Yvette added, her hands gripping the cola can as if it were life support. “Right?”
Nancy patted her leg. “Right. We just state the stuff we want to see change.”
“Or that we won’t put up with anymore,” Jan said, and everyone nodded.
“Okay. Good.” Dallas smiled. This was nothing new, it’s what they’d been talking about all along. She didn’t bother pointing that out. No need. They’d finally accepted what had to be done. That’s all that was important. “Have you talked to the others?”
“Yeah.” Jan glanced at Nancy. “They like the idea.”
Sally snorted. “I wouldn’t say ‘like.’”
“Okay, but they’ll hang with us.” Jan sipped her cola, her gaze on Dallas. “As long as you write the letter.”
“No problem. I’ll get to work on it right away.”
Yvette’s sigh was pure relief, and then she smiled. “I might even have a beer.”
Nancy elbowed Jan. Subtly, but Dallas caught it.
“Anything else?” she asked, even though she could see trouble in Jan’s and Nancy’s eyes.
“Yeah.” Jan shrugged. “No big deal, though.”
Nancy glared at Jan when she hesitated, then turned to Dallas. “We want you to sign the letter.”
“By myself?”
Jan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Not exactly. We’ll all sign our names on the next page, like we’re supporting you.”
Dallas laughed. “What am I? The sacrificial lamb?”
They all stared at her, clearly confused, and then Jan said, “They’re gonna know you wrote it.” She snorted and glanced at the others. “None of us would know how to write that kind of letter.”
Dallas sighed. “That isn’t the point.”
“You wouldn’t get in trouble, right?” Yvette leaned forward, her elbows resting on her thighs, her hands clasped tightly around the can. “You said it would be illegal to fire us.”
“Absolutely.” Dallas thought a moment. “I could get my sister to write the letter. Some of you met Dakota at our last meeting.”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “The lawyer?”
Dallas nodded, already knowing it was a bad idea. Too formal. Too threatening.
“That would piss off the suits. Big-time.” Jan got up and grabbed the box of cheese crackers. “You’re one of us, Dallas. Better it comes from you.”
“Better it comes from all of us,” Dallas corrected.
“True.” Jan passed the crackers around. No one seemed interested. “But I don’t think it’s gonna fly any other way.”
After a long stretch of silence, Nancy said, “This sucks, you guys. We’re asking a lot from Dallas. It’s not fair to lay this on her.”
Sheepish looks were exchanged, and everyone nodded.
“Let’s forget it.” Yvette stood and squared her slim shoulders. With her brown hair pulled back in a pony tail, she barely looked seventeen. “We can deal.”