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So much had been said about Alex Rivers, and when I met him, his presence was unlike anything I’d seen. I wasn’t impressed, I wasn’t afraid, I knew I could do this, with or without his bad boy reputation. But would he make it easy, or would he be all the things I was made to believe? The big bad wolf, wrapped in leather, luring me into his next endeavor.
CHAPTER 6
“We need at least a hundred more black roses. No… just do your job and get them here. Got it?” The photo shoot coordinator, Nevia, yelled at the florist over the phone. I just met her, and, so far, she may have been the most stressed out person I’d ever met. She was a machine, powered by caffeine and anxiety, her curly black hair slicked into a bun: no makeup, only rage. “Where the hell is Alex Rivers?”
It was no surprise Alex was late, seeing how Parker warned me about his unprofessional habits. But this wasn’t an ordinary job for me. This was a brand defining photoshoot for a major corporation that could change my life. Alex was hired to endorse Drip,a lime-flavored soda, now bigger than Pepsi. But he was nowhere to be seen, and the stress had everyone on edge.
“Fuck! Where are the goddamn napkins!” Nevia screamed, wafting away the hot coffee she just spilled on her blouse. I took that as my queue to leave, pushing my large rack of clothes out of the way of her assistant, who rushed over with some paper towels. I thought of how chaotic the evening was, my clicking heels distant to the frustrated staff.
Parker was right about Alex, especially now, but was he right about everything? He had no reason to lie, no reason to scare me about the violent threat Alex supposedly posed. Parker merely wanted to protect me, regardless of my self-sufficient ways. I took a moment for myself, shamelessly hiding behind the rack of clothes, slouching in a dark corner. If Alex was truly a bad boy, then the results would speak for themselves. I pulled out my phone, typing the letters of his name into Google, curious to see how the world saw my new boss.
The first result that appeared on the screen was aNew York Prestigearticle, posted merely five hours ago. It was Alex, his face harshly illuminated with light, his raw smolder tucked into the back of a town car.
“Oh my god.” I covered my mouth, reading the thick red letters of a screaming headline:
Brooklyn Brawler, Alex Rivers, Knocks Out DJ at Bushwick Nightclub - No Charges Pressed.
My jaw dropped as I scrolled down, focused on a photo of a man whose nose appeared to be warped, busted like a purple turnip. The image popped up so suddenly it turned my stomach. I couldn’t believe how fresh it was. It all happened last night in Brooklyn, of all places. No, not just Brooklyn, but Bushwick, my neighborhood. There was nothing to do there, nothing particularly special that wasn’t already in Manhattan, especially a club. Interestingly enough, the man wasn’t pressing charges and considering how rich Alex probably was, it seemed odd how this would just slip by. I studied it once more, realizing how extensive the beating was, enough to sour my face with its sight alone.
Nevia moaned as another batch of flowers tumbled off the wall and onto the floor. I thought she was going to explode, but the surprise in her eyes struck me as relieved as she faced the entrance. “Oh my god, he’s here.” Nevia swirled her finger into the air, as people rushed around the warehouse. “Everyone, places, now!”
Calmly, I stood from my corner, sliding the rack of clothing toward the tent where Alex would change. I kept my eyes down, not wanting to see the man who broke the nose of some DJ out in Bushwick. The thought alone made me shiver, though I was unsure how that knowledge truly made me feel. Suddenly, I was nervous, not out of fear, but by the simple fact I now knew something about the infamous Alex Rivers.
Before, he was just a man on a billboard, a stranger really. Now, he was fighter, a piece of gossip stuck in my head. I knew if I looked up too quickly, my face would reveal the secret of what I had read. I bit my lip and averted my eyes as the rhythmic pound of his heavy boots mirrored the beat of my heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
He was close, I could feel him, and perhaps it was the torment of his insistent eyes. I collected my reaction before acknowledging his imposing presence.
“Where the hell have you been?” Nevia snipped, but Alex persisted in my direction. I glanced up and stared, studying the movement of a man who was almost two hours late. He was unfazed by Nevia’s frustrated voice, using the claw of his hand to correct the direction of his slicked back hair.
“Busy,” he responded, the rasp of his voice lying heavy like a boulder. “But I’m here now.” His broad shoulders were draped in a black leather jacket, his tight shirt and jeans matched the tone of his raven hair. Not once did he stare at Nevia, but instead towards me. My heart sank. How long had he been staring before I had the courage to look up? He approached my side, reaching to remove his shades as his body cast a formidable shadow onto my face.
“Hi.” The smallest voice fell out of my mouth, my fingers wringing together, soothing the sweat within my palm. He smirked so softly I almost missed it. He smelt like cherries and mint, rugged like a sex-filled room.
“For you, Gemma, apologies are in order. Sorry for the wait.” He said it with an almost stern expression, and had it not been such a sweet gesture, I would’ve confused his seriousness as an attempt to intimidate. But this was how he was, his face kissed with a furrow, a brooding scowl as handsome as it was chilling.
“She gets an apology? What about the rest of the staff?” Nevia barked, following both Alex and I into the changing tent. Alex leaned back in a large, tufted chair, crossing his legs as he stared up at Nevia. He sighed as if exhausted from what he was about to say.
“It's me, baby, deal with it.” The words fell out of his mouth, with little conviction, though Nevia swooned.It’s me, baby, deal with it…Those were the same words above his head in the billboard. An Alex Rivers catchphrase? This seemed to calm the rage in Nevia’s eyes, as she stared over to me.
“Gorgeous, but frustrating, wouldn’t you agree? I need him ready in five minutes, but that shouldn’t be too hard by the looks of him,” she raised a single eyebrow. “Easy enough, right Gemma?” She asked, as I glanced at Alex. His dark eyes peered into mine, shooting a look that hoped to approve what Nevia said.
“Yes,I’measy.” I mumbled, lost in a momentary stare. I shook my head from how ridiculous I sounded, “I mean, this should be easy.” Alex smirked, and Nevia agreed, ignoring the obvious slip of my tongue as she rushed away. Now, it was just Alex, me, and the rack of clothes I brought for him.
“I really do apologize,” Alex started, “for this afternoon, for your time.”
“Thisevening,”I corrected, pointing to my watch. “It’s well past lunch, and more dinner time than anything.”
“I suppose you’re right. But this won’t take long, I swear it.”
“What does a swear from Alex Rivers look like?” I asked, sifting through the rack for his first look.
“Guess you’ll see,” he said flatly, the clarity of his voice masked with a rough grit. “I trust you have everything I need.”
“I believe so,” I answered, “but your assistant didn’t send too many details. It felt more like she wanted me to assume what you’d like, rather than advise.”
“Good.” He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, “That was by design.” He pulled out a small auburn box, an unfamiliar brand of cigarettes that made my heart skip. He smoked? His movement was so meticulous, intentionally smooth, as he slipped one between his lips and reached for a gold lighter. “I wanted to see what you see.” He cupped his hand around the flame, clicking it shut with a sudden snap.
