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  Putting aside thoughts of Michael and of Jack, she focused on the reason she was here, to honor her friend. Marissa spoke about Avery. She spoke of her love of fashion, her creativity and her contributions to the community. Avery had guest lectured at a few of Ambrose’s college courses over the last two years, giving his fashion students her perspective on the topic. Marissa’s throat was tight, but she finished her tribute.

  She walked away from the microphone and a few others spoke about Avery. Then Avery’s mother invited everyone to enjoy the celebration of Avery’s life. With that, Silver Sundays began playing.

  Marissa looked again at the photos of Avery. Jack was behind her, and she turned, took a couple of steps back and slid her arm around his. “I’m glad I’m not here alone.” A shudder piped over her having him close.

  She scanned the room for Father Franklin, eager to introduce Jack to him. Father Franklin had filled a father figure role in her youth and having him meet Jack seemed important. In the crowd, she didn’t see him and disappointment tumbled over her. This wasn’t his church. He could have left already.

  “I’m glad I could be here for you,” Jack said.

  She was especially glad a few minutes later when her most recent ex, Rob, approached. The man who might have been responsible for Avery’s death and partially responsible for their fallout. His suit was impeccable and his brown hair slicked back. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He was clean-shaven and had a strong jawline and aristocratic nose. In his younger years, he had modeled for clothing catalogs, but now he worked for his father’s real estate company. Confident to the point of arrogant, Rob was sweet when he wanted to be and viperous when he didn’t get his way.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. His stance was casual, but Marissa read the intensity in his eyes.

  She had zero interest in talking to him. He had pointed the police in her direction, as if she could have killed Avery. Having a brawl now, in this space, was in poor taste. “This isn’t a good time. I just want to say goodbye to my friend,” Marissa said. Blowing him off was the high road. Tearing into him, the low one.

  “Will there be another time?” Rob asked.

  “I’m not sure what we have to say to each other. You told the police that I could be involved.”

  Rob appeared flummoxed. “I was out of my mind with grief. I said a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have. I knew you were pissed at her and I was listing people who held a grudge against Avery. When my lawyer arrived, he shut me up.”

  Marissa considered walking away, but she was curious what Rob had to say.

  Rob rocked back on his heels. “I’ve been thinking about what could have happened and who could have done this. Avery was secretive. She was hiding something.”

  Marissa hadn’t known Avery to hold back. Bluntness and honesty were two of the traits she had liked most about her friend. It was why it had been so hard when Avery had lied to her about Rob and hidden their relationship. “What do you think she was hiding?”

  “I don’t know. Avery didn’t answer her phone. She didn’t return messages. When I asked what was bothering her, she was evasive.”

  Had Avery been dating someone else? “Which makes you believe what about Avery?” Marissa asked. If he had a suspicion, he needed to be direct. Avery was busy and in demand. None of his observations sounded strange.

  “I don’t know exactly. But it’s a sense I had,” Rob said.

  “Did you mention this to the police?” Jack asked.

  Rob shook his head. “I didn’t have anything concrete to tell them. I didn’t know what she could be hiding. But you knew her. Did you get the sense she was lying to you, at least, lying by omission?”

  “You mean, when she was sleeping with you?” Why dance around the truth? Avery hadn’t acted any differently around Rob or Marissa. The affair had been well hidden.

  “That wasn’t going on for that long. It was a slow build. When we started, it just happened. You were in Barcelona—”

  Marissa held up her hand. “I don’t need the details. Just think before you talk, Rob.”

  “I’m doing my best. I’m barely holding it together,” Rob said.

  If he wanted sympathy, he was barking up the wrong tree.

  “I want to know what happened to Avery, too. She was my friend,” Marissa said. A simplification, but she cared deeply. “This is not the time or place to discuss this.”

  Rob looked around her. “Another time, then.” Without waiting for her answer, he walked away.

  “You handled that well,” Jack said. “And he backed down faster than I would have expected.”

  “Rob wouldn’t hurt me,” Marissa said.

  “I wasn’t concerned about Rob hurting you. I was worried about him. You don’t carry much bulk, but you’ve got an iron core,” Jack said. “I expected more drama. Screaming. A slap across the face at least.”

  “Not at Avery’s memorial service,” Marissa said. In the context of Avery’s service, her anger at Rob was small and unimportant.

  Marissa questioned her relationships in a larger sense. She’d let Rob go easily enough. Her marriages were part of the past. Losing touch with Father Franklin was another aspect of her life she regretted. She rarely spoke with her family and while traveling she missed birthdays and holidays. Those hadn’t bothered her.

  Until now. Now, she felt like she had given up too many personal aspects of her life for success in her career. Starting with her retirement, she could make changes. “It’s never too late to start over.”

  “Excuse me?” Jack said.

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “I was thinking about Avery. And wasting time. I want more in my life than work.”

  “I understand that sentiment.”

  Marissa heard something in his tone and for the first time since meeting him, she wondered if they were on the same path.

  Chapter 3

  Marissa turned on the television in her bedroom. The news was buzzing about Avery’s death and reports about the memorial service. A crushing sense of loss poured over her. The autopsy had been released and the cause of death was a gunshot to the stomach. No one was coming forward stating that they had either heard or seen Avery being attacked or shot.

  The media anchor stated the police had no comment on the matter. The report showed a clip of Marissa and Jack entering the memorial service. From the angle of the shot, they looked like a couple. The broadcast also featured Rob looking tired and devastated.

  “Hey, Jack!” Marissa called to him. He was in the house, but she wasn’t sure where.

  Jack stood in the doorway, nearly filling it. “You okay?”

  She was startled to realize he had been outside her room. “The news is talking about Avery.” Having someone in her home staying so close was strange. “I can’t believe she’s gone. Avery and I were friends for so long. We met when we were sixteen. Or was I fifteen?” It had been long ago and the years blurred together. Jack didn’t move from the doorway.

  “That’s a long time,” he said.

  Marissa patted the bed next to her. “Sit. I need to talk.”

  He didn’t move from the doorway.

  “Come on, I promise not to seduce you. I just need someone to talk to.” She would control herself even if the idea lodged in her mind and got comfortable.

  Jack took a few steps into the room and chose to sit on the chaise lounge next to her bed. It was better than standing six feet away. “Tell me about Avery,” he said.

  It was the invitation she needed to hear. Telling her and Avery’s story to someone who didn’t know Marissa, who didn’t have preconceptions about her, was freeing. “We were competing for a modeling contract. We had been to the same four appointments that day. This was the fifth. We were tired and trying not to look it. The
gig was for a college pamphlet.” Marissa laughed at the memory. “After being passed over for every other one, this was it. If I didn’t get the gig, I wouldn’t have a paycheck. No paycheck meant struggling with the rent and bills for another month.”

  “You were living on your own at fifteen?”

  Not exactly, although sometimes Marissa felt like she had been an adult her whole life. “I lived with my mom and sister and brother. My father walked out on us when my brother was four and I was seven. My mom had been working at an assisted living community in the dining facility. The upside was that she sometimes brought home leftovers.” Leftovers that would have been tossed in the dump. “Even with that and Father Franklin at Saint Joseph’s helping us out, it was still tough. My modeling gigs had bridged us a few times. I needed the job. Desperately.”

  Jack’s brows furrowed in concern. “I didn’t realize modeling was a must for you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I loved it. I like the clothes and the fashion and the glamour. But at that point, it wasn’t like it is now. I was new to the industry. I didn’t know what I was doing. My mom tried to help me when she could, but she didn’t know much, either. A couple times, I went to appointments that turned out to be for adult films. I knew to walk away from those. But anything else was fair game. If it paid and wasn’t degrading, I did it.

  “That day with Avery, she looked across the room at me and we knew we were competing for the ad. She had a much better chance than me, more experience, and while I had taken the bus and walked ten blocks, she had been driven there by her mother. I had a run-down look.”

  “She didn’t have the same financial strains?” Jack asked.

  “Avery was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She loved modeling for what it was, not for the money. Her mother had been a model in the sixties.”

  “Who got the gig?” Jack asked.

  “Avery did. But I got the next one. We had a similar look and so we often went for the same auditions. It wasn’t until the eighth or ninth audition that I formally introduced myself and we had a brief conversation. Eventually, I broke out big when I secured a well-known makeup company sponsorship. I think I wanted it more. But Avery was the one person I could talk to about modeling. When I talked to other people about it, they just rolled their eyes, like I was a pampered princess complaining about having my picture taken. At the start of my career, it was hard. Never mind the number of photographers who wanted to swindle me. It was unreliable money for sometimes low pay, long hours and no guarantees of future work.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Jack said.

  “In any career, it takes time to build momentum,” she said.

  “I get it. New guy. Pay your dues,” he said.

  Since they were talking about jobs, Marissa wondered if he would give away anything more about his and Kit’s. “How did you meet Kit?”

  “Through Griffin,” Jack said. His posture tensed. She was walking on shaky territory. He was holding back.

  “How do you know Griffin?” Marissa asked.

  Jack leaned forward, legs parted, elbows on his knees. “We met working overseas. He helped me out of a tight spot. I owe him.”

  “That’s why you’re here, helping me?” she asked.

  “Not just that. I had an accident on my last job. My knee needs time to recover.”

  “What happened?” Marissa asked.

  Jack touched his knee. “That’s a story for another night.”

  Marissa sensed she had pushed him far enough. She would ask more later. “Then you understand how people you meet on the job can come to be important to you.”

  “Yes.”

  Marissa waited to see if he would elaborate. When he didn’t, she turned the conversation back to her and Avery. “Avery and I were lucky to be on some shoots together. We’ve done magazine spreads and high fashion and runway. We’ve traveled together, partied together and worked together. We were close. We shared clothes and shoes. That’s why I can’t understand who could have a grudge against her. Avery was chill and fun.”

  “You say this about the woman who cheated with your boyfriend.”

  That wasn’t Avery’s best quality. “It wasn’t Avery’s first affair.” The words popped out of her mouth and Marissa felt disloyal for speaking them.

  “She made a habit of dating unavailable men?”

  “Sometimes,” Marissa said. “She was attracted to men whom she couldn’t have. They presented a challenge.” Married men, other women’s boyfriends and fiancés and once even a Catholic priest.

  Jack leaned back and rubbed his hand over his jawline. “Since someone seems to have the same grudge for you, maybe it’s related to a booking you’ve worked together. Have you and Avery done campaigns for big dollars that flopped?”

  “Of course.” Not every product they promoted did well. “We did a swimsuit ad last summer for a major clothing designer. It failed. Lots of accusations of unrealistic images by the public. Which they were. Totally edited.”

  “Does that bother you? When your photo is edited?” Jack asked.

  “Sometimes. When I see my picture and it doesn’t look like me. Or when I know some teenager is looking at it and wondering how she can get a seventeen inch waist and double-D breasts. But I also get why the ads are edited. The fantasy sells more product,” Marissa said. “Avery told me that. She knew it was more important for us to appear a certain way, even if it wasn’t who we were. When my personal life or my work became too crazy, she kept me in check. Stood by me through both my engagements and marriages and divorces. After all that, in the end, she died angry at me. We weren’t speaking. I have to live with that.” As a sob choked her, Jack stood from the chaise and set his hip on the mattress, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

  She grabbed on to his arms, wanting to draw strength from him.

  “A relationship isn’t defined by the last moment. It’s the whole of what you did together. All the moments matter as much as the last,” Jack said.

  Marissa lifted her head to look at him, his sincere expression and handsome face. She pressed her lips to his. A kiss of gratitude, to express what words could not.

  When their lips met, desire rose inside her, consuming her, dragging her under its spell. He did not deepen the kiss, but he did not pull away, either.

  When she broke away, she stared into his beautiful gray eyes, seeing flecks of green.

  Jack removed her hands from his arm. He stood. “I should check the house again.”

  Desire lingered and mixed with guilt. “Jack, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Jack inclined his head. “You’re in a tough place. I know what it feels like to lose a friend. I’ve lost too many. I want to be respectful of your feelings.”

  Marissa didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps kissing him hadn’t been the best idea, but it had been a long time coming. He was handsome and sweet and kissing him had less to do with her emotions regarding Avery and more to do with how she felt for him.

  * * *

  The warehouse was plain and unremarkable from the outside, but the inside was set up for a photo shoot with hundreds of backdrops and props and lighting equipment. Camera stands and vanities filled with makeup were clustered in the middle of the open space. Jack had reviewed the schematics for the building and had spoken with the photographer’s assistant. They had security covered and this job should go off without a hitch.

  Jack preferred the logistics of this photo shoot to the outdoor one on the beach in New Hampshire. It was easier to control the variables. While one of Marissa’s bodyguards watched the door and checked each person who entered, Jack searched the building. The doors and windows were locked. Unless someone blew a hole in the wall—a remote possibility—no one was getting close to Marissa who hadn’t been screened.

  Ma
rissa had warned him that this shoot could take several hours. Jack needed something to think about or he would fixate on Marissa. She was classically beautiful, she dressed impeccably, her hair was long and shiny and she could strut in heels that were impossibly tall. Every man’s fantasy and since she was the center of attention at the shoot, it was doubly hard to keep her out of his.

  More than a job. Every tick of the clock made that obvious. He was into her personally. She was gorgeous and she moved like a dancer. Even when she was standing and waiting, she seemed to be posing. Being a model for so long, it must come naturally to her. Now that he had that kiss, that sweet, delicate kiss, playing on his lips, it was that much harder to see her as just a client.

  Few of his clients were ever just a client. He put his life on the line for them. Devoted his every waking hour. But this was the first time he had kissed a client. She had gotten to him, gotten under his skin. Her beauty was impossible to ignore, but he could have resisted that. It was her warmth and her charm that had lured him into kissing her. He wouldn’t let it escalate. It had been a mistake that he wouldn’t repeat. Compartmentalize the issue and stay focused on his work. He was good at that.

  This photo shoot involved several other models. They were gathered on the set, posing with their hands on their hips while the lighting was checked by the photographer’s assistant.

  A male model stepped onto the set. He was wearing a black pair of boxer briefs and nothing more. Marissa appeared and took her place close to the nearly naked man. Jealousy struck Jack unexpectedly. This was her work and he was not her boyfriend. No place for feeling possessive.

  The photographer was barking instructions and the models positioned themselves, following his commands.

  Marissa and the male model were staring at each other. They moved as if in slow motion, reaching without touching, gazing at each other with longing. The intensity of their expressions made Jack feel like he was watching a private moment playing out in a bedroom. Marissa had sex appeal and her white dress and glittery makeup made her appear ethereal. The male model set his hand on her hip and she stepped closer until they were nose to nose, their mouths inches apart.