Page 1 of Touch in the Dark

Chapter One

The Past

“Oh my God, I seriously cannot believe we get to work with them.”

I glance over at Regina and roll my eyes. She is standing at the open doorway to the room where we have set up, waiting for the ‘them’ in question to arrive. Regina is still in college, she is an intern with me, supposed to be with my company for six months.

“They put their pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us,” I tell her as I continue setting up my table. I take the client sheets from another case to hand it to her, but she is camped at the door. I could have told her their shit stinks the same as everyone else, but I am working and don’t want to be crass.

“I know, I know, I’m just super excited. Do you know how hot they are?”

“I’m aware,” I shake my head. I was excited the first time I met them too, but this is the fourth time I’ve worked with the members of BreakNeck, a rock band out of New York who are now L.A. based. They’ve been around for ten years, have been rocking out long before Regina even knew what rock music was.

I get on with my set-up. I hate to keep the photographer and set directors waiting for a client to have their hair and makeup done. Makeup is my life. From as young as five I’d been getting into my mother’s dressing table, much to her dismay. I used to do make-up on my friends, with hideous results when I was younger, but then I started making a profit from it at school dances. Girls would pay me to make them glamorous.

My hard work was recognised by one of their older sisters, a part time model who was short on cash and needed help with her portfolio. Rather than hire a professional artist, she used me.

Now, I’m venturing out more and more, being hired for photoshoots like this and have worked a couple of fashion shows. They were hectic, not my favourite thing at all. That was an eye-opener.

To me, make-up artistry is a craft, one I take very seriously. I majored in chemistry at Stanford University, to learn everything behind the science involved in the products I would be using. Then I went to the Aveda Institute and got a further qualification in Cosmetology. My resume consists of working in numerous cosmetics counters and stores. At a photographers studio, then a short training stint alongside a professional makeup artist for the theatre. I learned all about prosthetics, disguises, and costumes. Then I opened my own studio and I contract out for work too.

“Have you worked with them before?” Regina asks, finally tearing herself away from her vigil to help me set up. She is a good kid, I want her to go far in the business. I’m always looking for good artists, it will be nice to have one I’ve trained up on the team.

“I have,” I look up at her with a smile. “They’re just people.”

“I know,” she clasps her hands to her chest. “Have you seen Aidan though, he’s so hot it’s like he blinds your eyeballs.”

I frown at her analogy and shake my head. Sure, I get what she means, Aidan Gass is hot. They all are. They have that age thing going for them now, not so fresh faced, laughter lines and evidence of a life well lived on their handsome faces. Of course, they spent their fair share of time in the press, Jordan the drummer the most. He is wild. I always enjoy chatting with him. He is a pain in the ass to put makeup on though, he can’t sit still for longer than two seconds, and is forever tapping out some tune on the nearest surface.

“Who is your favourite?” she asks me, lining up my moisturisers and makeup wipes.

“I don’t have one,” I straighten and brush my long unruly blonde curls over my shoulder.

“Everyone always says the lead singer, you know? But I kinda think the bass player is the best looking. Have you seen his eyes?”

Yes. I have seen his eyes, up close and personal, enough to see the flecks of silver in the too blue shade. They are lined with dark lashes that make him look like he’s wearing eyeliner, his dark flop of hair always seems out of control. As much as I say I don’t have a favourite, I agree with her. Nick is insanely attractive, and he has the personality to match. I won’t tell Regina Nick has asked me to go out with him the last two times we met.

I made a strict rule with myself when I started this business. I do not date clients. I definitely don’t date rockstars. I’ve worked in this town long enough to know getting involved with any kind of celebrity is bad for business. I don’t want to get that kind of reputation. Doesn’t stop me from fantasising about him though. In fact, climbing him like a tree, a naked, sweaty, horny tree, is a fantasy I’ve had more than once.

“I see that dreamy look on your face,” Regina pokes my arm. “It’s him isn’t it. He’s your favourite.”

“I told you I don’t have one, and hush. We’re supposed to be professionals.”

“I can’t help it. My crew is gonna lose their shit when they find out who I worked with today.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you in advance.” She bites her fingernail, a sign of nerves. “Relax,” I take her hand from her mouth. “I trust you, but you need to get used to working with clients like this and remember you signed an NDA. No photographs. You can’t ruin our reputation, Reggie.”

“I won’t,” she says solemnly. Then the sound of the band arriving has her cheeks flushing and her knees almost going. “Oh my god, oh my god. They’re here. Who do you think will come in first?”

“All good in here?”

Regina nearly jumps out of her skin at the voice behind her.

I laugh and toss a packet of wipes at her, she manages to catch it and look sheepish. “Yes, great, thank you. When will we be starting?” I ask Lola, the photographer’s assistant. I like working with this photographer. Cultivating relationships with them works for me and they are one of my main sources of work now. Word of mouth goes a long way.

“They’re sending in Archer and Jordan now.”

“Thanks, Lola.”

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