Page 10 of Still Her

“Yes,” he nods in my direction. “This was fairly last minute, and when I spoke with theShredjournalist, their only concern was finding a space for the shoot. With you guys touring, time slots were very limited so I offered up my place as a photo location to help seal the deal, make it happen.” He puts his hands in his pockets, taking on a relaxed stance.

“It’s very beautiful,” I say, trying to follow his lead and relax. I’m just very taken by surprise. I didn’t think I’d be seeing Eli again for a while. He normally does things from his office, which I’m not complaining about. He’s not usually very hands on. “It’s an amazing view.”

“Thank you,” he nods to me again, hands still in his pockets. “They are hoping to have it in the background.”

I give him what I hope is an appreciative smile, and turn back to the view. A couple of minutes later, a petite man dressed in black slacks and a tight black t-shirt that probably cost a ridiculous amount of money, comes scurrying up to me in a speed walk. His brown hair with frosted tips is sticking straight up, which looks completely intentional. His designer sunglasses are pushed up on his head, and his blue eyes sparkle as if they swam in Visine while he got ten hours of sleep.

“Is this the Turn it Up couple?” he asks, excitedly. “Oh mygawd, Mrs. Krasinski, come with me now. I insist!” He’s waving his hands around, before reaching one out for me to take. I’ve never seen anything quite like him. I hesitantly reach out to take his hand.

“And I’m coming with you because…” I raise my eyebrows, cueing him to finish the sentence.

“You’re coming with me because I am Enrique, the renowned stylist of the rock world, baby. When I’m done with you, you’re going to blow,” he enacts an explosion with his hands, “some minds.” He points to his temple. “Including your sexy husband’s.” He waves at Jack in his worn ripped jeans and white button down. He says all this as if he’s on his third energy drink, and this time takes my hand in his.

“She already does, but give it your best shot man,” Jack acquiesces, making my heart buzz with the warm-fuzzies.

“Let’s go, missy. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you, and we’re on a time crunch here. Let’s go… chop-chop Lambchop!” Enrique is giving my hand little tugs, prodding and beckoning.

“Okay,” I say giving in before looking over my shoulder to catch Jack’s kiss on my cheek. I shrug and give him a nervous smile as Enrique drags me away.

“See you in a bit baby,” Jack calls, as another staff member approaches him and leads him off somewhere. Eli moseys away to some other part of his abode.

A minute later, I’m plopped down in a chair in a very spacious bathroom with bright vanity lights everywhere, while Enrique animatedly regales me with his vision.

“Don’t get me wrong, fans totally dig your laid-back, don’t-care, vintage look, but you have to throw them off the rails every once in a while, you feel me girlfriend?” he proclaims as he circles around me, his hips practically shimmying as if they’re programmed to be in salsa mode at all times. He stops at the side of me, and claps his hands together before I can tell him, that sure, I feel him.

“Now! Shampoo and wet trim!” he barks at one of his minions that is combing out my hangover rats nest. “But don’t youdareblow her out, leave that to me!” He cha-cha’s away to his own little beat, as I’m led away to get my hair washed.

Once my hair has been washed and trimmed, Enrique sashays back over to my chair, right on time. He works around me as he blows out my hair, back-combs, teases, fluffs and God knows what else as he regales me of what a fan he is of Turn it Up, and how badly he wants five minutes alone with Matt.

“He’s just so strong, silent, and complex. He’s a mystery I want to get to the bottom of.” He shakes his head dreamily. “There. Done. Don’t touch it. It’s perfect.”

All that primping just to look like I rolled out of bed and mussed it up. He claps his hands and a make-up artist hustles over and immediately gets to work on my face, putting on about a pound of product, and adding about a mile to the length of my lashes. Though I’ll admit, I look smoke-show glam when I’m done.

“Waaardroooobe!” Enrique sings out like he’s Oprah, as he takes my hand and pulls me out of the chair and leads me over to a rack of pre-selected outfits, frantically leafing through them as he mutters ‘no, no, no’ with an occasional disgusted noise thrown in here and there. “Bingo!” he shouts when he finds what he wants and yanks it off the rack. His energy has no end, I swear. I’m afraid to imagine what must happen when he goes home and has nothing to do. But he’s fun, and I’m enjoying his personality.

About ten minutes later, I wander out in a black sundress with spaghetti straps and a black bra underneath showing its straps. There are microscopic white leaves printed against the black of the dress, so tiny they almost look like dots, and the look is completed with ankle high black motorcycle boots.Cute little badassas Enrique dubbed the look. I gaze around the inside of the McMansion, looking for Jack, or at least someone who will instruct me what to do next.

“Wow,” Eli says approvingly, as he sidles up beside me, approaching from behind. I startle and look up at him.

“Oh, hey,” I say, keeping it friendly. I bring my hands up and hold them together in front of me. He’s close enough for me to smell that atrocious cologne of his and he’s still looking down at me by his side. I can’t gauge his expression as I’m forcing myself not to look back at him and can only see him in my peripheral. I finally can’t take the awkward silence.

“Have you seen Jack?” I ask and look up to address him, just in time to see a deep, mystical look leave his eyes as he quickly sobers his expression.

“Um, no, not in a while,” he clears his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be out soon though. Just wait until he seesyou…” The look comes back, sliding into place. I’m not sure if he means for me to see it. His eyes dart up and down ever so quickly before he masks his face with a casual friendliness. “Glad to see the kitten come out to play.”

What the fuck does that mean?My mind freezes up and my body automatically looks away from him and faces forward. What the hell did he mean by that? I grip my hands together as I fix my stare to the backyard view out the glass door that hasn’t been shut all the way. I tell my lungs to pull in oxygen and let it out a few times before they seem to remember how to do it on their own again. I try to reason with myself. Eli is a hound. He’s an insatiable horn-ball that gets turned on by a shift in the wind, and right now, I’m just another chick in a skirt. It’s not personal. Inappropriate? Hell yes. But not personal. He has a problem that has nothing to do with me.

“I’m going to go look for Jack,” I say in dismissal of this whole interaction and start to walk away. But as I do, I catch his reflection in the glass door. That look is on his face as he watches me walk away; the one that gives me the creeps. It’s lustful and predatory. My insides go cold and I try to keep down the bile that’s rising up in my throat as I make my way out into the backyard, willing the sun to push this dark feeling away.

6

Jack

Something’s wrong with Mayzie.I can see it from across the yard where I’m perched on this nice Harley while photographers and their crew are all milling around me. A stylist has put me in black jeans with chains dangling off one pocket, black motorcycle boots and a stonewashed gray t-shirt. They’ve added a black leather cuff around my wrist and a pair of aviators that I grab off my face to get a better look at my girl as she approaches, nodding to the journalist that’s walking and talking beside her. The journalist motions in my direction and Maze looks up at me, quiet relief sweeping over her face. She finishes the walk towards me alone.

She looks knock-down, drag-out sexy and beautiful. Still doesn’t hold a candle to that post love-making look I love, but I do feel my heart contract in my chest at the sight. Something’s missing though. Her ever-present smile is absent and she looks troubled and pensive. Her gray eyes stand out with her thick, black eyelashes, but they are lacking their usual sparkle. As she gets closer, the corners of her mouth finally turn up, but only a little. I take her in my arms in a hug as I rest back on the bike. She rests her face on my shoulder, her eyes downcast. I hear camera clicks go off at rapid-fire. I didn’t think the shoot had even started yet, but maybe they’re just trying to get every intimate shot they can. I whisper lightly in Mayzie’s ear, very quietly so that none of them can hear.

“What’s going on?”

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