Picture Me Naked (Stoddard Art School Series) (19 page)

The remote alarm went off in Zee’s pocket as George’s siren blared.

They rushed from behind the van. Zee pushed the button on the remote and cut the shrill, distress signal. No one was near George. No one else was in the parking lot. Jagger looked in every direction. Where was the bastard?

“No one is here. Could it have gone off accidently?”

“Doubt it.” Jagger scanned the area again. “I’d bet my last five dollars it was that tosser, Ed. Bugger moves fast, I’ll give him that. The yellow-tailed bastard is probably sitting somewhere watching us right now.”
Show yourself, Zeigler.

“Doors are still locked. I can’t see anything wrong. The siren must have scared him off.”

Jagger dropped to one knee and looked under the car. Nothing looked out of place. No fluids leaking. He stood. The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t see anything.”

“That’s good.” Zee stroked his arm, unclenched his fist and kissed the back of his hand. “The alarm did its job, Jagger. Thank you.”

He slipped a hand around her waist and kissed the top of her head. He blew out a long breath. “Why don’t you give me your keys? I’ll put George over by the market. They’ve got security cameras. If he tries something again, at least we’ll have something to take to the police.”

“I doubt he’ll touch George ever again.”

“I’m not so sure. I’ll circle the block a few times and see if I notice anyone following. It will kill two birds.”

“Two birds?”

He nuzzled her ear. “It will give me a chance to cool off, in more ways than one. Go on up to class. I’ll be right back.”

Jagger watched Zee head back inside, and he climbed into her car. “Okay, you bastard, where are ya? I know you’re here. I can feel it.”
Jagger fumed. Angry and horny were not a good combination. He drove the block and a half and pulled George into the parking lot of the Pick & Pack grocery store. A quick glance told him what he wanted to know. There was a security camera on the corner of the building and one at the back of the lot. If he could just get this joker on camera, then Zee would have to go to the cops.

He parked, locked the car, and switched on the alarm. Changing his mind he shut the alarm off. “No, let’s see if he’s as ballsy as I think he is.” Jagger walked away and left George ripe for the picking.

On his walk back to the school, Jagger worked to get himself together. The last twenty-four hours had demolished any control he had. His body was acting like he’d never had sex before. Zee was all he could think about. How her mouth felt against his. How she tasted. How her body fit so perfectly along his. How she whimpered when he touched that spot between her— “Stop it, man. You can’t be sporting another fat in class.” Chicken shit, hairy legs, bastard ex-boyfriends. It took Jagger another walk around the block to settle his—mind.

How he got through the rest of that class he’d never know.

****

Jagger walked past Zee after class was over. He whispered for her to meet him at his van when she was done. A new painting of Jagger’s back sat upon her easel.

As the other artists left, they stopped and gave her a hug or a pat on the back, and wished her congratulations again. Madeline placed a hand on Zee’s shoulder. “After you get cleaned up, stop by my office. I’ll get you Daniel’s card.”

“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.”

Leah was biding time to talk to her. As soon as they were alone, she spun on her. “You had sex! With Jagger!”

Zee neither confirmed nor denied it. She didn’t need to. Leah was on to her. She gasped, “You had really good sex. Now I am officially jealous. Jagger
and
the Bruce Gallery. Shit, girl, when you go big, you go big.”

“Leah…”

“So was it
incredible
?” Leah sighed.

“Um, yes.”

“I knew it.” Leah bounced on her toes. “Do I get details?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on. I spent the last two days freezing my ass off and smelling like a herring. At least tell me you finally, you know…climbed the mountain? Touched the sun? Died the ‘little death’? Had a big O?”

“Yes, yes and yes. And you were so right, it was
incredible
.” Zee felt herself warm at the memory.

“I’m glad one of us yes, yes, and yes’ed this weekend.” She hugged Zee. I’m so happy for you. Pea green with envy, but very happy.”

“Thanks. Hey, I need to go. Madeline’s waiting for me. I’ll give you a call after I meet with the great Mr. Bruce, okay?”

“Wait, you haven’t explained the whole cupcake thing.”

“Sorry. Can’t. Talk to you later.”

“Did I mention I smelled like a herring?” Leah called after her.

Madeline’s office was clutter at its finest. Stacks of files, papers, and artists’ work filled every corner and flat surface. The walls overflowed with every conceivable form of artwork from block prints to oils to crayon drawings from her nephew.
Is that a bobble head doll of Warhol?
A tall vase of peacock feathers stood atop another pile of paperwork, and a crystal chandelier crowned the cacophony of chaos.

“Have a seat.”

“Where exactly?” Zee teased.

“Oh, hell, I know. It’s a mess. But it’s my mess, and believe it or not, I know where everything is.” Madeline scooped a pile of stiff watercolors off a worn leather chair. “Here.”

Zee sat and watched Madeline settle into her nest like some techno-colored hen. She pushed back the cloud of feathered salt and pepper fluff that passed as hair and tugged up the sleeves of her lumpy suit. She wore an old men’s gold watch. “Now, where did I put that card?” She rummaged around her desk.

“I’m still in shock. I can’t believe Daniel Bruce is interested in me.”

“Why not you?” Madeline frowned. “You’re good, Zee. I’ve told you that before. Your work is technically brilliant. And, I must say—” She moved a small replica of the Venus de Milo. “Lately, I don’t know what’s happened, but I’ve noticed your work has…” She lifted a bejeweled pencil holder made from a tin can. “Where the hell did I put that card?”

Zee would have been amused, but all her senses were on overload. “My work has what?”

“Passion.” Madeline looked up at her and nodded her head. The fluff bobbed in agreement. “It has a zing. A spark.” She raised a snow globe of the Washington Monument. “There it is.” She puffed proudly. “See, I told you, I know where everything is.”

Zee’s stomach did a nervous turn as she took the card. She stared at the heavy white card stock. Its design was clean and crisp, classically minimal. Daniel Bruce.
The
Daniel Bruce. The man famous for putting artists on the map. He wanted to meet her.

The spritz sound of a soda being uncapped brought her attention back to Madeline.

“Now, I don’t have to tell you how important this is.” Madeline rummaged through her desk. “A private showing is unheard of for a novice. But he really liked what he saw. If you nail this with Daniel, the Meade Fellowship is as good as yours. Add some pieces with the same fire as I’ve seen this week, and you’ll have an amazing show.”

Zee was staring at the card in her hand as if any second it would flash and become a magician’s dove and fly away. Joke on her.

Madeline sighed. “Zee, I have to tell you something, and I need you to promise me you’ll not repeat it to anyone.” She pulled a huge bottle of Tums out of a drawer and ate a handful.

That got her attention. “Of course. Something about the show?”

“In a way.” Madeline tipped forward in her chair. She frowned again and Zee could feel her hesitation.

“I won’t say anything.”

“No one knows this, and it’s important that I keep it that way.”

“Understood.”

“The school is in trouble.”

That wasn’t what Zee expected to hear. “What do you mean trouble?”

“Money trouble. With things the way they are, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to continue.”

That was
so
not what Zee expected to hear. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. I’m like the swan, serene and beautiful on the surface, but kicking like hell underneath. We lost our biggest endowment last year. That, coupled with a huge decline in enrollments, and I don’t know if we can keep the doors open for another year.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I hate to tell you this on the heels of your good news, but I need you to know how important this show could be—not only for you and your fellowship, but for Stoddard, too. That little white card could be the answer to my prayers, as well as yours.”

Madeline pointed. “Daniel’s gallery pulls in a certain clientele. A certain wealthy clientele. To highlight one of our students might inspire one or two of those deep pockets to make a nice healthy donation to the school. The publicity alone will attract more students into the program. I’m going to contact some of our more successful alumni and invite them to come. You know, have a meet and greet with our star artist. Who knows, I could get a few more donations there.” She folded her hands and leaned in closer.

“I know how timid you can be. I mean, other times when you’ve had some of your work at a show, you were nowhere to be found on opening night. There are certain artists who crave the spotlight. You’re not one of them.”

Zee opened her mouth to defend herself, but Madeline put up a hand. “I know how you work. You’re an intense, focused artist. That’s not a bad thing. I’m just worried that you’ll…”

“I’ll what? Not show up?”

“That, or come up with some reason why you can’t accept Daniel’s offer.”

“Do you really think I would do that?”

“I’ve known artists all my life. We’re an odd lot, some of us. Unpredictable at best. This is a huge opportunity, Zee. And I would hate it if you didn’t grab it with both hands. You’re the most talented artist I’ve seen in a long time, but I get the impression you don’t believe that. Self-doubt can hold you back—make you pass up on a chance to be great.” Madeline looked a bit sheepish. “And you could be Stoddard School of Art’s saving grace.”

Zee swallowed. She could have argued that Madeline’s interest in this was only to rescue the school, but she had known Madeline for years. She cared about her student’s success. She’d be the first one to celebrate anyone’s accomplishments. But if the school was in trouble, that put a completely different light on things.

“You won’t let this slip by, will you?”

“We don’t even know if Daniel Bruce will make an offer. He’s seen, what, three pieces? He might not be interested after seeing my portfolio.”

“That’s exactly the attitude that’s worrying me.”

Zee wanted to feel indignant and jump to her own defense, as if she wasn’t feeling enough pressure. She rubbed that spot between her eyebrows. “Madeline, you’re assuming a lot.”

“I’ve been friends with Daniel forever. He doesn’t waste time. He can’t afford to. If he didn’t want your work in his gallery, you wouldn’t be holding that card now.”

“Lots of things can happen.”

“Yes, they can, and they can all be good. For both of us.”

Zee couldn’t tell if the skip in her belly was nerves or excitement. She took a deep breath and blew it out in a long slow whoosh.

“Don’t worry,” coaxed Madeline. “You can do this.”

Feigning a confidence she didn’t feel, Zee stood and slipped the golden ticket—aka Daniel Bruce’s business card, into her back pocket. “I won’t let you down.”

In the hall outside Madeline’s office Zee tried to wrestle with the carousel of emotions swirling in her head. Between car alarms and private showings and cold SpaghettiOs in a can, Zee could only think of one thing. Jagger
.

For the first time, she had someone to share her excitement and worries. Share her life and her heart. It magnified everything knowing he was waiting for her, wanting her.

Meet me in the van.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Zee found Jagger inside the van, naked and aroused. He held himself in his hand. “Hey there, Cupcake.”

Heat pooled in her thighs as his hand made a slow stroke. “I wish I brought my sketch book.”

“I’m off duty.” Jagger was looking at her like he wanted to devour her. “Come here.”

The heavy wool curtains on the van’s windows were closed. There also hung a drape of sorts that blocked off the back compartment from the front seat, effectively giving them complete privacy. Once the door shut, the sunlight glowed through the fabric in a soft blue haze.

She sat on the edge of the bed. Would her heart ever stop pounding when she was close to him?

Jagger sat up and stroked her back. “Would you like to take off your clothes or should I?”

His voice sounded like warm honey in their blue cocoon. “You could finish the show you started upstairs earlier. I especially liked the spilled water and the way you arched your back.”

Her nipples tingled and tightened. Her breath quickened. “The water was an accident.”

“And the arch?”

Zee felt embarrassed. “Okay, I’ll admit, I did that for you.”

“It worked.” He pulled her toward him for a kiss as he began to unzip her sweatshirt.

“I don’t know what came over me. It was very unprofessional. To tease you like that, and to give you a-a…”

“Fat? Woody? Ragin’ hard-on?” Jagger slipped a hand into her waistband.

A heated rush made her tremble. “Y-yes, one of those. In class. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t play the shy one. You loved it. I saw your face. You liked getting me hot.” He slipped her hoodie off one shoulder. “And I liked watching you lose this bloody sweatshirt you hide in. You were sexy as hell.”

“I don’t hide.” Okay, maybe she did. She freed an arm from her sleeve as he dropped said sweatshirt to the floor. “You think I’m sexy?”

Jagger was busy running his hand across her breast. “Hmmm. Good God, yes.”

“I’ve never had sex in a back seat before.”

“This isn’t a back seat.” He ran his tongue along the rim of her ear before plucking the clip from her hair.

“You know what I mean. I…”

“No one can see us.” He was kissing her neck. “No worries. I set the emergency brake.”

Zee gave a nervous laugh. “And locked the doors?”

Jagger left her long enough to push the button to lock the doors and turn on some music. Soft guitar notes filled the space. “Now, no one can hear us, either.” He laid her out across the bed. “God, I missed you.”