Popcorn Love (35 page)

Sheets rustled as she slid her arm across her
mattress, seeking her cell phone. She frequently lost it in her bed
after staying up late reading e-books on the device until the words
all began to blur together. She let out a soft hiss as her fingers
finally slipped over the cold device where it was stuffed under the
upper right corner of her pillow.

Allison tapped out a text to Elena and pressed
send
before tossing her phone back onto her pillow and
sitting up to stretch out her back and limbs.

Hey, good morning. I just wanted to make sure we
were still on for today.

A soft groan escaped her as her back bowed forward
and burned with the delicious stretch. Before her arms had even
extended fully over her head, though, her phone chimed with Elena’s
response.

Allison glanced at Macy’s bed to make sure the chime
hadn’t disturbed or woken her, but it was empty. She likely went
home with someone the night before or crashed at a friend’s place.
After sending a text requesting confirmation that Macy was alive,
she then switched over to Elena’s messages to read her reply. She
rolled her eyes at herself when she realized she was holding her
breath as she clicked on Elena’s name.

“Chill out, Allison.” She needed to just relax. There
was absolutely no possible way that Elena would cancel on her on
the morning of their actual date, right?
Right!

A smile snuck across her lips, though, quelling that
tiny spark of apprehension as she read Elena’s reply.

Of course we are. Why? Is today no longer good for
you? I know it’s early, but I promise there is a reason.

No, I’m totally still down. I don’t mind that it’s
early, though I still have no clue what we’re supposed to be doing
at nine a.m. because SOMEBODY is being stubborn.

Patience, dear. ;)

Allison grinned as she bit her bottom lip and
clutched her phone. The little winky face at the end caused a wave
of tingles to ripple down her spine.

Yeah, yeah. I’m being patient, she typed back. So,
should I meet you somewhere or are you picking me up? What’s the
plan?

A black town car will be there to collect you at
nine sharp.

Laughing, Allison shook her head. That was some
Pretty Woman
shit right there, except Allison wasn’t a
hooker or a ginger, but hey, whatever. It was fancy stuff
nonetheless. Before she could inquire further, her phone chimed
again.

I apologize that I cannot pick you up myself, but
you will quickly discover why.

That’s cool, Allison replied. I trust you. Is there
any specific way that I should dress or something?

No, dear. Wear whatever you like.

Awesome. I guess I’ll see you in a few hours
then?

Allison smiled at Elena’s quick response.
I very
much look forward to it, Allison.

Me too.

Jumping off her bed, Allison headed for the shower,
her entire body buzzing with excitement.

* * *

Allison approached the black town car cautiously. She
was about halfway from the dorm building to the vehicle when the
driver’s-side door opened, and a tall, balding man in an extremely
expensive suit stepped out. Allison eyed him warily as he stepped
around the nose of the car sporting a wide smile.

“You must be Miss Sawyer. Good morning.”

Stopping a few feet away from the man and car,
Allison narrowed her eyes as, in a clipped manner, she asked, “How
did you know?”

The driver moved toward the rear door of the town
car. He opened it as he answered her. “Nine a.m. sharp. Long blonde
hair, striking green eyes, and an attitude.” He smirked. “Miss
Vega’s description was certainly on point.”

Allison laughed. “Hey, watch it.”

The driver motioned once more toward the now-visible
back seat of the town car. When she didn’t make a move, he cleared
his throat and asked, “Shall we?”

She shook her head. “Look man,” she said, holding up
a hand, “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but when you’ve
lived the life that I’ve lived, you don’t just trust people because
they smile and know what to say, okay? It’s one thing to go into a
nice stranger’s house or something, because at least I can still
make a break for it if I need to, but if I get in your car, you
could friggin’ take me anywhere you wanted and the only option I
would have would be to like either jump out or try to wreck the
car, and neither one of those options bodes well for my physical
well-being. Know what I’m saying?”

Chuckling, the man scratched at the back of his head.
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“Yup,” she replied with a loud smack of her lips.

“Well, if I was a kidnapper, how would I know your
name and the name of the woman who sent for you?”

“Psh, please. There are lots of ways to find out easy
information like that. You could’ve been stalking me for days or
something. You could’ve hacked into my phone and read my texts and
knew what kind of car I’d be waiting for. I mean, come on. Tons of
serial killers have had way more elaborate schemes than that for
just getting a person into a car, let alone all the stuff that
comes after. I mean, Ted Bundy dressed up like a police officer to
get potential victims to trust him and get into a car. He had all
kinds of schemes and even faked different accents. That shit was
elaborate. How do I know this whole ‘I’m-your-driver thing’ isn’t
just a scheme?”

“I suppose you have a point.” A new, small smile
pulled at his lips. “Though I think maybe you need to lay off the
documentaries and crime shows.”

“Hey, those shows could be saving my life right now.”
The man’s smile only grew.

“Fair enough.” He tilted his head. “You’re a smart
girl; I’ll give you that. So, what can I do to gain your
trust?”

“Simple.” Allison shrugged as she pulled her cell
phone from her pocket. “First, what’s your name?”

“Rick,” he said. “Rick Adkins.”

“Okay, Rick. Just stay right there.” She opened her
camera app and held her phone up. When she angled it just right so
that the sun wasn’t glaring on the lens, she snapped a picture of
the driver. “Okay, just give me one sec.”

She inserted the photo into a text message to Elena:
So, before I get in some stranger’s car, can you confirm that
this Rick Adkins dude is your driver?”

A moment later, her phone rang.

“Elena?” she asked as she clicked to accept the
call.

Amusement adorned every note of Elena’s voice. “Yes,
dear, that is my driver. He is trustworthy. Get in the car.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Stop laughing at me,
woman.” She didn’t wait for an answer before she ended the
call.

“Thanks Rick,” she said as she slid onto the seat,
and the driver closed the door.

Slim, calloused fingers drummed against the leather
seat as Rick drove Allison through the teeming traffic of
Manhattan. After a while, she couldn’t handle the silence any
longer.

“So, Rick. You got a second job, or are you just a
driver?”

“This is my only job, ma’am,” he said. “Why do you
ask?”

“It’s Allison or Alli, and, well, your suit looks
hella expensive. I didn’t figure drivers made quite enough to
afford those brands.”

Rick glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You
would be right, Alli. However, there are certain perks to being a
loyal driver of those in the fashion industry. I’ve been with Miss
Vega’s company for many years, long before she even took over.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Allison said, eyes widening.
“
Fashion
industry? Elena works in fashion?”

“You didn’t know? We are headed for the fashion
district as we speak.”

“Wow. I figured she was a CEO of one of those big
Fortune 500 companies or something, but I thought it was just
business, you know?” Allison sat up a little straighter. “Wait. Did
you say that we’re headed for the fashion district? Are we going to
her office or something?”

“She didn’t tell you
anything
, did she?”

“Not a damn thing.” Allison craned her neck as she
stared out at the buildings now swooping by and the enormous sewing
needle and button sculpture in the heart of the district.

“Then I had better keep my lips sealed, hadn’t
I?”

“Nah, come on, Rick.” Allison tilted her head and
smiled in the rearview mirror. “You can tell me.”

“Not a chance, kid. Besides, we are nearly there, and
you can find out for yourself.”

When Rick pulled up to the curb outside of a massive
building, Allison’s breath caught roughly in her chest. The
concrete building towered high above them, casting an enormous
shadow over the street, and there were more windows than Allison
could count. She opened the door and stepped out of the car just as
Rick was about to grab the door for her.

“Well, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,
Alli,” he said as Allison stood by the car and continued to stare
up at the building. “Perhaps I will be seeing you again soon.”

“Yeah.” Allison’s jaw hung slack. She then shook her
head and refocused on the man beside her. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just a
huge
building. Um, thanks for the ride, Rick.” She stuck her
hand out, and the man shook it. “You wouldn’t happen to know what
I’m supposed to do now, would you?”

“I would wager that going inside might be a good
first step.” He winked and then headed back around the car. A
moment later, he pulled away and left Allison standing at the curb,
still staring up at the building with her heart hammering in her
chest.

It took her a few moments to work up the nerve to go
inside, but she finally forced her feet to move. She walked a
little timidly toward the front desk, where a pale, red-headed
woman whose face seemed to be frozen in a pinched sort of scowl
while she repeated the same two lines over and over pressed various
buttons on a call board. “Yes, I can transfer you. Please
hold.”

Allison stood in front of the desk for several
minutes, but the woman refused to even acknowledge her. Finally,
Allison rolled her eyes and cleared her throat loudly. “Excuse
me.”

The receptionist looked up then, arching a brow as
her gaze scanned down Allison’s body and back up. It was as if
Allison’s attire completely offended her. “Yes?” Her voice dripped
with her disapproval and annoyance.

Allison flushed red with her irritation.

“I’m here to see Elena,” she snapped. “Can you tell
me where to go?”

“
You
have an appointment with Miss Vega?”

“I don’t need an appointment, lady,” Allison bit out.
“She’s expecting me.”

The receptionist laughed mockingly and shook her
head. “I’m sure,” she said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mm.” The woman hummed disbelievingly, rolling her
eyes and ignoring Allison’s question. “Name?”

“Allison Sawyer.”

The receptionist’s eyes widened, brows disappearing
into her ginger hairline. “
You’re
Allison Sawyer?”

Allison took a deep breath to keep herself from
outright hissing at the woman before answering through gritted
teeth. “Did I stutter?”

The woman pursed her lips almost to the point that
the damned things nearly disappeared, but she didn’t respond to
Allison’s comment. Instead, she glared at Allison and said “Miss
Vega is currently in shoot. Fifteenth floor.”

Allison huffed and stalked off toward the
elevators.

* * *

On the fifteenth floor, she stood slack-jawed, taking
in the busy scene before her. The room she found herself in was
quite large, and the majority of it was covered in intensely white
sheets. The sheets blanketed the floor, the walls in places, and
provided a massive backdrop behind a gorgeous woman that Allison
could only assume was a model. A man flitted around her with a
large camera, the rapid clicking sound of the device’s shutter like
a swarm of birds all taking off for flight at the same time.

Several people hovered around the edges of the
shoot—makeup artists wearing aprons splotched with color stains and
sporting cosmetic tools in hand. Other makeup artists were off to
the side in a somewhat separate portion of the room, applying face
and body touches to other, mostly nude, models. The models were
then shuffled over to have their hair picked at by stylists. Some
were slipping carefully into various clothing items.

The entire scene was much busier than Allison had
ever imagined a photo-shoot to be.

“Are you lost?”

Allison jerked out of her daze and focused on the
woman standing in front of her. She was tall and thin, clad in a
skin-tight black dress. Her blonde hair fell in neat waves around
over her shoulders, and she stared at Allison through her
black-rimmed glasses like every second she had to wait for an
answer was a year off her life. “What?” Allison asked.

“
You.
Are you lost, or do you always look like
you just landed on another planet?”

“Uh, n-no, no. Sorry. I’ve just never been to one of
these before.”

The woman’s eyes scanned down Allison’s body.
“Clearly. And you aren’t actually allowed to be in here unless you
have business. No Starbucks, so you’re not the coffee girl. No
messages, so you’re not the mail girl. No style, so you’re clearly
not a model. I’m thinking a call to security is in order.”

Allison took a deep breath and let it out in a long
sigh. “Seriously?” She groaned. “This shit again? Look, lady, my
name is Allison Sawyer. I was invited here by Elena Vega, and
I—”

“Sawyer.” Recognition painted the woman’s features.
“Right, yes. My apologies.”

Without another word, she scurried away, and Allison
was left staring after her, half-stunned, half-pissed. Did anyone
in this building have an ounce of decency in them, a modicum of
respect? She felt raw and vulnerable, and she couldn’t help but be
defensive. These people looked at her like she was a cockroach, and
it made her skin crawl. It was a harsh reminder of the two very
different worlds she and Elena lived in, and that made Allison feel
a little sick to her stomach. She did her best, though, to swallow
down the feeling and shake those people off.