Page 68 of Dirty Shots

He spluttered. “Photographs? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Show me your phone, then. I saw you take my picture.”

“I did not!”

The door burst open behind her and Eric flew into the room, his face flushed, breathing hard. He didn’t even acknowledge Anya, but instead focused on the other man in the apartment. “Jonny Turner! What the hell do you think you’re doing in my home?”

“I want to talk to the lovely Anya. I hear she’s the model for this new collection you’re exhibiting.”

“That’s none of your concern. Now get the hell out of my place.”

The reporter lifted his hands in surrender. “Willingly. I was just leaving anyway.”

“He took my photo,” Anya said.

Eric’s eyes blazed. “Is that true?”

He shrugged. “So what if it is?”

Eric held out a hand. “Give me your cell.”

He scoffed. “No chance.”

Eric stepped forward, his shoulders squared. “Give me the phone or I will take it from you.”

“Are you threatening me? Because I’m going to have a far more interesting story to write if you threaten me and perhaps destroy some of my personal property.”

Anya put a hand on Eric’s arm. “Leave it, Eric. My photographs are going to be everywhere in a few days anyway. We have more important things to worry about than this scumbag.”

He glanced at her and then back at the reporter. “I’m letting you go because of her, not you. If you come anywhere near either us again ...” He left the threat open-ended.

Eric opened the door and Jonny Turner skulked out. He gave Anya a snide grin before the elevator doors shut him from view.

Anya shivered. “That guy gave me the creeps.”

Eric rounded on her. “Never let anyone else into the apartment, no matter what they say to you. Understand?”

He voice was hard and she wilted under his stern stare. “Sorry, Eric.”

“I mean it, Anya. Those sons of bitches have no souls. That guy ripped me to pieces when I was having a tough time. He printed every bad moment I had, spoke to everyone I knew, and made it his business to make my dark times everyone else’s business. They will stop at nothing to get a story, and if they can embellish it with some good old fashioned dirt, even better.”

“Sorry, Eric,” she said again.

His expression softened, and he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. He kissed the top of her head. “No, I’m sorry. There was no way for you to know. I should have warned you that this kind of thing happens.”

“Well, he’s gone now, and I know for the future.”

He kissed her and she let her mind be absorbed by the taste of his mouth and the feel of his skin against hers. She wanted to lose herself in him, but a question nagged at her mind.

She broke the kiss. “How did it go with my father?”

He gave his head a slight shake. “Sorry, Anya. It wasn’t much better. He’s still not happy about the exhibition.” He paused and then said, “Worse than not happy.”

She gave a shrug, though her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. “It’s okay. I knew that would be the case. I just keep letting myself hope, you know?”

He kissed her again. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given you that hope?”

“No, I appreciate that you tried. It means the world that you’re willing to put yourself out like that for me.”

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