“What about her?”
“Val got this terrible note. I guess some of the other models got them, too. She said it was kind of scary, called the women sluts and whores.”
“I know about the notes. That’s one of the reasons they decided to beef up security.”
“Well, I was wondering if . . . maybe you could kind of keep an eye on Val. She’s a really great girl, you know? You’re a bodyguard. You could make sure she’s safe.”
“That’s not a favor, Samantha. Keeping the girls safe is why they hired me. That’s my job.”
“Yes, but Val isn’t—”
“You don’t have to worry, I’ll take care of her.” He didn’t want to hear about the woman. He didn’t want to know any of the models on a personal level. “If she’s your friend, I’ll keep her on my radar, okay?”
Just what he didn’t need. Any sort of up-close-and-personal with one of the women. But Samantha was family. If Valentine Hart was her friend, he’d keep an eye on her.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Ethan nodded, though he figured a lingerie model had more than enough experience with men to know how to handle herself.
“That smells delicious,” he said, hoping to change the subject. “I’m starving.”
Samantha smiled. “It’s just about ready. Nick, how about helping me serve?”
Nick stood up. “You got it, baby.” Moving behind her, he slid an arm around her waist, dragged her nutmeg curls out of the way, and kissed the side of her neck.
Samantha laughed.
The sweet sound made Ethan think how lucky his cousin was, and just how rotten his own luck was when it came to women.
Chapter Three
The only lights on in Val’s Montlake duplex apartment were the lamp beside her bed and the screen on her computer. She was up late studying, trying to catch up on the Internet courses she was taking.
Snoozie, her big gray cat, slept on his pillow on the back of the desk. Even asleep, he was great company.
Val sighed. With rehearsals, she wouldn’t be doing much studying this week. She’d be getting home late and she needed her beauty rest, needed to look her absolute best for the dress rehearsal, then the fashion show on Saturday night. She owed it to the people who were counting on her.
The Internet contest she’d won six months ago had secured her a place as a La Belle Lingerie fashion model. Out of thousands of women, she was the lucky winner.
The work was grueling. She’d never understood how hard a fashion model worked. Though La Belle models weren’t half-starved, anorexic women like high-fashion, couture design models, they had to be in top physical condition. The women were expected to ooze sexuality. They’d been chosen for their full breasts, small waists, and perfectly curving hips. La Belle models wore lingerie designed to appeal to men—which was the reason women bought it.
A strict diet regimen was required, along with the two to three hours a day she spent with a trainer to ensure her body stayed perfectly toned and fit.
The job had required her to drop out of school to train for the fashion show and do PR work for the company, but La Belle was paying her a boatload of money, enough that she’d be able to finish at the U of Washington next year with a degree in veterinary medicine.
Val loved animals and always had. Becoming a vet was a longtime dream, but her scholarship had run out after she’d earned her bachelor’s degree. With her parents’ help and working two part-time jobs, she’d managed to get through her first year of vet school, but the tuition was nearly twelve thousand, with fees on top of that, living expenses, food, and travel to and from campus.
On a whim, she’d entered the modeling contest, and to her amazement, she’d won.
God and the genes she’d inherited had blessed her with excellent bone structure, as well as a really good body. Though a lot of women would think the high-paying, seemingly glamorous life of a model was the job of a lifetime, running around half-naked in sequins and feathers just wasn’t the life for her.
Instead, she was using her physical assets to pursue the goals she had set for herself when she was in high school.
Val glanced at the clock, saw it was after midnight, reached over and turned off her laptop. Tomorrow was another rehearsal day. At the end of the summer, her contract with La Belle would be up and she could finish her final term at school. Her job as a fashion model would be over and she could return to a normal life again.
Val smiled. After the whirlwind tour and her fifteen minutes of fame, it might take a while to figure out exactly what normal was.
Sitting in front of his laptop on the desk in his bedroom, the man moved the mouse and changed the font. He chose another font and typed the next word, then changed the font again, continuing, one by one, until he finished the note. The printer hummed as he printed the words on a plain white sheet of paper.
