Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(43)

His lips quirk ever so slightly and he gives me a nod before we enter the room, me first, and we find a row of five chairs in front of some sort of a red carpet I assume is meant to be the runway. Barbara motions me forward to join her, then points for both me and Kyle to sit. “This is your runway show,” she says, handing me her clipboard. “Names. Agencies. Stats. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I say, feeling excited all over again, and hating how easily that keeps happening, but the thrill is gone the instant the first girl enters the room and starts strutting her stuff. She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. She’s everything Heather is at that receptionist desk, which is perfect for the slave trade operation Juan and Ricardo recruit for every chance they get. I need to get her out of here. I mark her card with a negative. Three more girls walk for us, and I do the same. I’m starting to feel sick. I can’t hire models. I have to find a way out of this.

Barbara waits until I’ve declined girl number five before standing in front of my chair, hands on hips. “What isn’t clicking?”

“I don’t know,” I say, and afraid just coming here is putting the girls on the wrong radar, I change direction. “Maybe I should look through the agency books before we have more come out?”

“We have ten more lined up,” she says, “and we need to shoot the campaign in the next three weeks to make the launch publication dates for the top five fashion magazines.”

Top five fashion magazines. My designs. My dream. But these girls are potentially in hell. I’m back to this being a nightmare. “I’m sure I’ll find someone,” I lie. I’m not going to find anyone. I’m not going to let this happen.

“We need three girls for the plan you approved earlier.”

“Yes, I meant three.”

“Maybe if I leave you alone.” She glances at Kyle. “What are your thoughts?”

“I’m just waiting for one of them to pull a gun so I can shoot them,” he says, in a completely dry tone.

I gape at him and Barbara chuckles, waving a finger at him. “You have a sense of humor you hide beneath that robot shell after all.” She glances at me. “I’m going to send another in.”

I nod and she walks away, and the minute the door shuts, Kyle leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Same as always,” I whisper, but I don’t look at him, because that bubble has started again, and it’s a big one, a really, really big one. “I think I’m going to talk to them about a more iconic kind of campaign. A decadent cherry, though I have no idea how cherries mean clothing. I will figure it out.”

“Myla-”

The door opens again and another woman is walking the floor, but I’m not really seeing her, and Kyle isn’t watching her either. He’s watching me. He’s seeing too much. He knows I don’t want to be here, and there is no way I can deny that any longer. I don’t want to be here. I barely make it through the rest of the girls. Finally it’s over, and Barbara is ridiculously sweet about me declining them all.

“We can look at model books tomorrow,” she says, “and have another round sent over. It’s only Monday. We have all week to get this nailed down. We just need to do it by Friday.”

“That sounds good,” I say, when it doesn’t at all.

The next few minutes become a blur. I grab my purse and briefcase and Kyle is forever by my side. We exit the building and he holds the door for me. Once we’re inside the Mustang, sealed into the safe zone of being alone, he doesn’t turn on the car. “What happened in there?”

“A lot,” I say, turning to look at him. “I’m not going to pretend it didn’t, because you know it did.”

“Tell me.”

“Not now and maybe not ever. I’m not making a decision about trusting you right now in this moment. I need to get on a treadmill. I need to clear my head. I need to leave here now.”

“Then we go,” he says, cranking the engine, and putting us in reverse. And oh, how I wish I could go in reverse and turn back time. If only I hadn’t taken that waitress job. If only I hadn’t gone to San Francisco for a job in fashion. But I can’t go back and I have to face facts. Michael threatened Kara. He sees her as a lingering threat he wants addressed. He absolutely will kill her if I don’t find a way to contain her. He will kill her if I run. He will use those models for his sex trafficking if I’m here or if I’m gone. He has to be stopped. And I’ve fought too hard and long to fail now. I need a revised plan.

And at the core of that plan I have to consider the man sitting next to me being either my only ally or my worst enemy.





Chapter Twelve





Myla





Once we’re on the highway, I sink back into the leather of the Mustang’s seat, and my mind is searching for answers, instead finding the past. I’m back where this all started. In the restaurant, and seated at a table across from Michael Alvarez. At first, having dinner with him hadn’t been all that bad. He’d been suave, charming even. He’d asked about my dreams, and for reasons I don’t know, I told him about my design work. We’d laughed about food, television, and politics, and he’d seemed so very human. He’d told me about his restaurants, the conversation so comfortable that I’d started to think he wasn’t the kingpin I thought he was.