Pretty Bitches (4 page)

Read Pretty Bitches Online

Authors: April Ezell Wilson

We pulled to the private airstrip and I watched as they loaded my bags. I walked across the tarmac and stepped up to board. My usual request was sitting there—finalized edition waiting for my approval and, Glenlivet, of course.

 

I settled into the leather armchair and began my assault. Three hours later I had my final approval on the materials and shot my changes to Alison, zipping my tablet away for the remainder of my trip.

 

We touched down at four in the afternoon and it was a dismal gray. Even through my down jacket and thick wool sweater the cold bit my skin. I descended the stairs and crossed the pavement to the awaiting car. Pamela and Charles were sitting in the adjacent seats smiling, well smirking actually.

 

“What the fuck are those looks for? Did you run over a moose or something?”

 

Pamela hung her head and laughed. “Just seeing you in that coat and in the wilderness has got me a little miffed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of your stilettos and Burberry.”

 

I sneered. “Well, I don’t think most people have seen you
with
your clothes
on
.”

 

Charles snorted into his hand and cleared his throat before he said, “So, the location is confirmed as are the models. They flew in yesterday. We have a new photographer and he is supposed to be absolutely amazing. Only really shoots nature and outdoor scenes.” He was smiling broadly like he had just scored a winning touchdown.

 

“What the fuck happened to Carl? I always work with Carl. I don’t want a replacement. Get me Carl.” I reached for my cell and slid the lock waving it in the air checking for a signal.

 

They looked between one another. “Well… um… well, you see, Carl declined the job. Said he would rather swallow nails than to ever work with you again. Apparently, he’s still bitter about the Tokyo shoot.” Pamela said as she tried to hide her smile.

 

I rolled my eyes. “Christ, he is such a baby.” I dramatically leaned to the side stuffing the phone in the air holding it shock still trying to achieve a signal. “Well, whatever, this guy better be good or it’s your fucking ass.” I shot warning looks to the both of them and watched as they squirmed uneasily in their seats.

 

“What’s this,” I waved my hands theatrically, “…fantastic guys name, anyway?” I sighed when I finally got one bar of service.

 

Charles perked up. “Cailen Carmichael.”

 

For some reason that sent warm goo through my blood. I waved it off and continued to check my delayed messages. I could tell this would be a week from hell.

 

We pulled in front of our Bed and Breakfast. I immediately took note of the big fucking Moose standing in the side yard lazily chewing on a bush of berries. “Uh, who booked us in the fucking petting zoo?”

 

Pamela and Charles wore equal looks of shock. The driver got out and began unloading our luggage while we sat shock still watching the enormous beast devour its meal. Finally, the driver tapped on the window holding two bags on each arm and sporting an irritated scowl.

 

I shoved Charles motioning him to go first. His eyes got the size of saucers then eventually he huffed and opened the door. Pamela followed and I gingerly climbed from the back basically sprinting up the wooden steps and landing on the huge front porch.

 

Pamela rang the bell and an old, pudgy woman with long gray hair pulled into a bun answered the door. Her smile was genuine and immediately put me more at ease.

 

“Welcome. Please come in. It’s cold out there today.”

 

I watched as she hobbled into the room and gestured to the chairs to have a seat.

 

“Oh, no thank you. I’m actually exhausted from the trip. Could I go ahead and make my way to my room?” I asked feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 

She tilted her head to the side smiling. “Of course, dear, of course. Right this way.” She began climbing the steps at a snails pace. I nearly ran into her ass four separate times.

 

I motioned for Charles to grab my bags and he slung it over his shoulder and reached for my trunk. I let out a laugh when I heard him protesting against the weight.

 

She ushered me down a long hallway. I noticed the pictures that adorned the walls were of the same people all in different scenes but always the same smiles on their faces. It looked as if she had a large family and a happy one at that.

 

I sighed.

 

She stopped at the last room on the left and turned the squeaky knob letting the creaky door swing open. The stale smell hit me in the face. My eyes rolled around the room. The canopy bed was outfitted in a handmade quilt and had huge fluffy pillows resting at the top. The windows were adorned in an ivory lace that created tiny dancing shadows on the light wooden floors. There were several old armchairs sporadically placed and a huge fireplace anchored the wall. A big burning mass was already crackling sending amber rays around the room.

 

It was charming, but fuck I missed my marble floors, gray walls and red chaise.

 

She left me to unpack. I dragged my feet—adorned in mid-calf alligator boots—and sank onto the pillow-top mattress.

 

I made a mental rundown of my current situation: I’m in the fucking wilderness, staying at an Auntie Em inspired house and working with an unknown photographer, which has the ability to tank my entire issue depending on his expertise.

 

I’m fucked.

 

I push off the bed and head to the bathroom.

 

Claw-foot tub. Damn.

 

I sighed and turned the ancient knobs and watched as the water cascaded into the basin. Once I slipped in and gained a measure of comfort I slowly began to unwind. We would start our day at the break of dawn for the optimum lighting and I needed to be prepared.

 

Once I toweled off and slipped on the silk pajamas I crawled into the bed, which had a noticeable indent in the center where I always slept. It took mere minutes to sink into a deep sleep even with the constant haze through the windows.

 

I was alerted with a series of knocks on the door the following morning. Son of a bitch, do these people use tin cans to speak through, too? I peeled myself out of bed and crossed the room yanking the door with a bit too much force.

 

Miss Beverly stood there with a huge smile and a silver tray that rested a giant cup of coffee and fresh cream.

 

Ok, she was forgiven for the atrocious form of wake up call. I smiled and lifted the tray from her shaky hands.

 

“Good morning dear. How did you sleep?” She asked, still smiling.

 

“Well, thank you.” I gave her a smile. “Would you alert the others that we will be leaving within the hour and to be downstairs and prepared?”

 

She gave me a nod. “Yes dear. I have breakfast ready and waiting. I didn’t want you to start your day on an empty stomach.” Still smiling, she turned and continued at a turtles pace toward the stairs.

 

Something foreign slipped in my chest and I could swear it felt a little like true fondness for that little old lady.

 

I retreated to the bathroom with my coffee and continued to dress in utterly ridiculous clothing to prepare myself for the wretched conditions. Today called for a weather conditioned button up shirt and a pair of the only jeans that fit my tall frame, topped off by a pair of combat boots (needed a little flair).

 

I yanked my down jacket from the chair and folded my hair into a messy bun before I pulled the door and made my way down the stairs.

 

An amused Charles and a shocked Pamela greeted me. My scowling face had them wiping their expression when I asked, “What the fuck are you staring at?”

 

Charles spoke first. “…Uh, um… you look very… prepared, is all.”

 

I rolled my eyes but before I could reply scathingly Pamela offered, “I was going to say you look hot as shit.” She was taking in my jeans and boots combination.

 

I smiled internally because well, who the hell wouldn’t at a pretty good compliment.

 

“Whatever, we need to get going. Did you prepare the equipment and have the models diverted to the location?”

 

Charles said nodding, “Yes. Taken care of. The car is pulled around front waiting.”

 

I said nothing and shouldered past them making my way down the creaking wooden steps. We all folded into the car and started what would be one terrifying journey up a mountain and around curves that dropped off thousand-foot embankments.

 

We were all the same shade of green when we came to a stop at the top of a mountain. We had been traveling on a makeshift trail for over ten miles on the last leg. I was the first one to bolt out of the back in search of fresh air and ground under my shaky legs.

 

Definitely going to be a long fucking week.

 

Our guide gave us each a few minutes to adjust to the altitude and sheer panic we were all battling. Finally he began our hike to the part a car couldn’t take you. I was going to fire whose ever idea this location had been.

 

After an hour on foot and numb toes I caught sight of the familiar metal rods holding different shades and variations of lighting. As we drew closer I saw the models streaming in and out of the makeup tent. We were on the cliff’s edge of the most beautiful sight I’d ever witnessed.

 

The huge evergreen trees towered into the skyline opening enough to see the gray rocks on the cliffs, which had snowcaps that offered shadows in mesmerizing shapes. The fog lay in blankets over the valley and a breathtaking waterfall was the center backdrop for all this awesomeness. I think my jaw actually dropped and I made an audible gasp taking it all in. It was truly magnificent.

 

I leaned into Pamela. “Ok. Whose location idea was this? They are actually going to get a fucking raise.”

 

She smiled broadly. “It was Cailen’s. He said he camped here once and when we described the shoot storyline he didn’t hesitate to offer this up. Said it would be perfect.”

 

“Well, he was absolutely right. I feel as though he stepped into my head and reviewed my exact dream.”

 

I took a moment to walk around the campsite and ogle over the absolute beauty. I pulled out my phone and began a series of photos. I loved the way the shadows from the trees climbed up the hill in gray streams. The snow felt like powder beneath my feet and reminded me of walking on a pillow. I was lost in thought and capturing stills when I almost ran smack dab into the pole anchoring the main shoot location.

 

I cleared my throat and darted my eyes around to see if anyone had caught the near collision. I sighed, relieved when I realized I was completely alone. I walked around the tent to get a better view of the cliff’s edge.

 

I pointed the lens toward the waterfall and snapped as a voice murmured in my ear, “That’s a great shot there, Gemma.”

 

That familiar tone instantly clicked in my mind and my hand froze in mid air while my breath caught and my lips formed a thin line.

 

It was only about twenty seconds but it felt like an eternity. Slowly I turned my head to meet those artic blue eyes that were dancing with entertainment. As is always the case my scowl lit up my face. He lowered his eyes to the ground as he tried to gain his composure while he shook with laughter.

 

That made my eyes burn red. “What the fuck are you doing here? Who are you and did you fucking follow me?” My voice gaining an octave.

 

He seemed oblivious to my anger filled rant. He sighed before smiling innocently and saying, “While you are certainly one of my new favorite obsessions I hardly believe that I would chase your skirt,” he took a moment to scan my frame before adding, “… er, fantastic fucking boots half way across the globe, Gemma. That, even for me, seems a bit much.” His finishing grin had my insides burning and my thighs on fire.

 

The only thing I could muster was, “Mmm-y name is not, Gemma.”

 

He smiled. “Ah yes, love, this I know.” He offered his hand. “Cailen Carmichael. Its all my pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

I stared at his most excellent hand, toned and masculine with trimmed nails but rugged skin surrounding. That line had me trailing up his arms and appreciating the fact that he had rolled his sleeves and I had a view of his muscular forearms and the brief sight of an intricate tattoo that snaked up his arm and disappeared under the fabric.

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