She rushed to open the door. Girl, you're hopeless.
Sage stepped inside the room and closed the door. Leaning against it, he shut his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm really sorry, Sarah. I had no idea Chrissie Cabot was one of the models. If I'd known, I would have refused to work with her. She's spoiled and impossible."
"You don't owe me any explanations. It's none of my business."
He gave her a strange look. "Maybe I want it to be your business."
She turned and walked to her window. "So, what's your schedule like the rest of the week?"
"For the next four days, we'll be doing the shoots early morning until mid afternoon and again at sunset. Tomorrow the takes will be at the river." He stopped talking. "Sarah, look at me."
She turned and acted indifferent, although her heart pounded
He said, "Nothing's changed." There was a loud knock on her door. "Do you want me to open it?"
"Might as well."
He opened the door to a skinny jovial guy who looked past Sage to Sarah. "Oh, sorry, I got turned around and thought this was Harvey's room."
Sage pointed down the hall. "There's his room."
"Thanks."
He started to close the door when another crew member called his name. "Hey Sage, you got time to go over the logistics of tomorrow's shoot?"
Sarah wasn't ready to continue their conversation so she said, "You take care of business. I'm kind of tired anyway."
He looked like he didn't believe her, but he must have seen something in her expression that kept him from saying so. "Okay. We'll talk later." He stepped into the hall and closed the door.
* * *
It was just before midnight when Sage finally got off the walkie-talkie with Newt. Plopping onto his recliner, he squeezed his eyes shut. Hopefully, everyone was lined out for tomorrow. Ned was overseeing work in the north pasture, Newt was overseeing the dudes, the photo crew had been shown the location of the next day's shoot, and Curley had worked out the menu for onsite lunches. He rubbed his eyes. He needed to sleep because he'd be up at the crack of dawn, but he didn't want to go to bed without Sarah.
Exhausted, he walked to his bedroom and sat on the side of his bed. Unbuttoning and removing his shirt and sliding off his belt, he fell backwards across the quilt his mother had sewn when he was a boy. He wished he'd never agreed to this modeling job. He wanted to go back in time and tell Pinky to shove it up his ass. The time he'd spent with Sarah had made him happier than he'd been in a long time. Their outings, with Julie in tow, had made him want so much more than just a physical relationship. He longed for a complete family, but he may have just screwed things up.
Since the Chrissie debacle that afternoon, Sarah had become reserved and standoffish. Chrissie was a wart that wouldn't go away. They'd had a short affair that he intensely regretted. Hell, he'd only slept with her a couple of times; the first because he was stupid and the second because he was stupider. He tried to console himself by remembering how bad he'd been feeling at the time. It was around the anniversary of Marylou's and Michael's deaths and he'd just wanted a warm body to comfort him.
He rolled onto his side and placed a hand on Sarah's pillow. She hadn't shown for supper and when he'd knocked on her door, she'd called out that she wasn't feeling well and was going to bed early. After supper he'd been presented with one crisis after another. If tomorrow followed the same pattern, he'd probably go ballistic on someone. He closed his eyes and fell asleep still in his jeans.
* * *
Hunger pains gnawed at Sarah when she woke. She'd skipped supper the night before because the thought of trying to make small talk with the models and crew wasn't something she could pull off. She also didn't want to watch Chrissie and the other women put the moves on Sage.
The sun was barely up when she slinked to the kitchen, hoping to find some leftovers and sneak them back to her room. She'd just walked into the pantry in search of Curley's homemade bread when the kitchen door opened and she heard two women talking. Oh, fudge, just my luck. She started to step out of the pantry to make her presence known when one of the women said, "You know Sage and Chrissie had a thing going, don't you?"
"Yeah, but from the way he's ignoring her, I think its dead and buried."
"I hope so—gives us a chance."
"Hey, you don't think he's hot for chubby girl, do you? I saw him coming out of her room. He didn't look happy."
"Are you serious, Rosie? Do you think he'd go for her?"
There was a pause, and then, "Naw."
Sarah heard the refrigerator open and the girl named Rosie ask, "You want some orange juice?"
"No, I'm good. We better hurry. That old guy, Newt, said the van leaves at seven."
The other girl groaned. "Yeah, and with my luck, I'll have to sit next to Chrissie and listen to her bullshit about how famous she is."
Sarah heard the door close and released her breath. She didn't feel hungry anymore.
Chapter 21: Clean up Girl
By noon, after skipping supper the night before and losing her appetite that morning, Sarah was ravenous. She decided to see if Curley would let her make a sandwich that she could take back to her room. She only had a few revisions to make to the ending of Dream Kisses, and then the manuscript was off to Sissy.
The great room was empty. She figured the dudes were probably horseback riding. When she entered the kitchen, Curley and Newt were rushing around like crazy people. Newt was complaining, "Hell, since when did I become an errand boy. I gots ta take all them hoity-toity greenhorns lunch. What was the boss thinkin' ta ask 'em here?" Newt answered his own question. "He was thinkin' with his pocketbook, that's what."
Curley mumbled something in response and fastened lids on plastic containers of potato salad. The door squeaked and the men looked up. Sarah's stomach growled. Curley said, "Hey, Sarah, you feelin' better? I was gonna knock on your door and ask if you wanted some soup or somethin' after I got this modelin' bunch taken care of."
"That's sweet, Curley. Would it be okay if I just snagged one of those sandwiches? I'm feeling better now."
"Sure, little lady. Help yerself. Whatever you want. There's tuna salad or turkey club."
Sarah picked up a tuna sandwich and Curley handed her a plate. "You want some potato salad or chips to go with it?"
"No, this is plenty. Thank you." She turned to leave, before she could rationalize what she was about to ask, she turned back around. "Newt, can I help you deliver lunch?"
Newt glanced up from slopping tuna on a piece of bread. "Sure. Need all the help I can get. I'm leavin' in fifteen minutes."
"Okay, I'll change and be right back." Chastising herself for her hair-brained request, she rushed to her room and put on Levis and a cowboy shirt Julie had found during one of their second-hand store excursions. She pulled on the boots she'd bought in L.A. and worn to Boot Bustin' Barn. When she returned, Newt's rusty pickup was already loaded. She climbed in and he put the truck in gear, mumbling, "Thanks fer yer help, Missy."
"No problem."
They drove several minutes until they reached a gate. Newt jumped out of the truck to open it, jumped back in to drive through, and back out again to close it. They followed a dirt road across a pasture. When they crested a hill, she asked, "So, exactly where is the shoot taking place? I heard something about the river."
"Yep, they're up near the fork where it splits and makes a run toward the Triple T. It's a right pretty place. Just wish them greenhorns would get their business done and move on. Them bein' here puts a wrench in the gears. Now we got everbody tryin' ta be in two places at once. Soon's I'm done here, I gots ta hurry back and meet up with Beaner so's we can give the dudes lasso lessons."
Sarah didn't know how to respond, so she just nodded in sympathy. Twenty minutes later they reached the river and turned west. Newt was right about it being pretty. Tall pines sloped down an incline to the banks of the river. He pulled into a clearing with an SUV, Sage's pickup, and a couple of vans. He jer
ked his head sideways. "Past those trees and rocks is where we're goin'." When they got out of the cab, Sarah could hear voices coming from below. Newt reached into the pickup bed to hoist an ice chest onto his shoulder. Sarah reached for the big box of paper goods, but he said, "No, Missy, you jes leave that be. Some of them high-falutin' city folk can carry this stuff."
"I really don't mind."
"Nope, you jes follow me." He headed across the clearing to a trail that sloped to the river, but before starting down they paused to watch the scene along its banks. Three tent canvases had been erected near the tree line. The two smaller ones had their flaps down on three sides. Inside, folding tables were loaded with jars, small boxes, and mirrors. Tall chairs were placed next to the tables. In one of them a man was kicked back reading a magazine.
The larger tent was open to the outdoors with all its flaps up. Equipment and cords crammed the entire space and the guy who'd knocked on Sarah's door the day before was pulling out a heavy cord. Everyone else was gathered near the river where Sage and Chrissie posed on a ledge jutting above the water. The other two models stood off to the side watching. A camera man moved like a dancer around Sage and Chrissie. Nearby, a big man with thick white hair sat in a director's chair. Even though he was in profile, Sarah could see he was smiling.
Newt started down the trail and Sarah followed. When they got within hearing range she listened to the photographer calling instructions. "Hot and sexy! Move in, Chrissie. Touch his chest. Great!" The camera repeatedly clicked. "Put a hand on his abs, but let the buttons peek through your fingers." Click. Click. "Rosie, Diane, join them." The Photographer clicked a few more shots and then yelled, "Makeup!" A female crew member rushed to blot the models faces. More instructions were given. "Let's flank him girls. Chrissie, you kneel in front of him and look up possessively. Sage, pull Rosie and Diane against your body and give Rosie a bedroom look." Sarah knew that look, and to her chagrin, the green-eyed monster reared its head again.
When she and Newt had almost reached the bottom of the trail, Sage glanced up and saw her. His countenance changed to one of delight and the photographer called, "Perfect, Sage. Turn that look on Chrissie."
Sage frowned. "I need a break." He dropped his arms from around the models and walked away. The photographer looked disappointed, but yelled, "Break everyone!" After he turned and saw Newt and Sarah he yelled again, "Looks like lunch has arrived!"
Sage stalked toward them, and Newt said under his breath, "Don't look like the boss is too happy."
Sarah silently agreed.
Sage reached them and took the ice chest from Newt. Newt said. "Yo, boss. Wanna send some greenhorns up to help unload?"
"Sure." He stared at Sarah. "What are you doing here?"
Newt piped up. "She was real nice and offered to help."
Sage turned and called to no one in particular, "Could a couple of you unload Newt's pickup?"
"Sure," returned one of the crew. He tagged another man and they started up the trail.
"Sarah, come with me. Newt, show the guys what you want done."
Sarah followed Sage to a long folding table under a tree close to the river and he set the ice chest on it. He said, "I'll be right back," and walked to the trail.
The heavy set white-haired man who had been sitting in the director's chair approached her. "Hello. My name is Harvey Livingston. We haven't met."
"I'm Sarah Carter."
The big man asked, "So, are you one of the ranch employees?"
"Um, no. I actually came for the dude ranch."
"Sounds like fun. I'm considering signing up myself."
Sarah said, "You'll enjoy it," and smiled.
Harvey said, "What do you think of the clothing?" Without waiting for her response, he forged on, "I think my new line is stupendous; already got great responses from major buyers. I'm thinking of expanding into a children's line. You know, I started in this business thirty years ago and have made quite a name for myself. I…"
Sarah spotted Sage returning with the other men. The clothing designer kept talking about his accomplishments and she tried to look interested. Even when the men arrived and set their bundles on the table, the man kept yammering. "Then, in the early nineties, I set the standard by…" She reached into the supply box and pulled out a plastic tablecloth, still trying to look interested. As she set out plates, utensils, and other supplies, Harvey kept up his one-sided conversation. "Now, the year 2001 was major in my career and that's also the year I started working with Sage. He did some Vogue work for me. Great year! Great year!"
When Harvey paused for breath, Sage called, "Lunch is served." The crew members dropped what they were doing and headed for the table. The models stayed in the tall chairs in one of the small tents and continued a private conversation.
Sage bent to Sarah's ear. "Grab your lunch and follow me."
Sarah didn't like the tone of his voice. He sounded short-tempered and frustrated. She frowned, but placed a tuna sandwich on her plate and walked downstream with him. He sat on a boulder and she sat on another one a few feet away. He took a bite of his sandwich. Finally, he asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Better."
He took another bite. "Why did you really come out here with Newt?"
"I wanted to help. He seemed a little overwhelmed."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Yes. Why else would I come?"
"So, you weren't a little jealous of me being surrounded by all these women?" He only sort of sounded like he was teasing.
"Of course not; it's your job."
"You're lying."
Sarah paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth and felt her face burn. She lied and said, "I'm not lying."
Sage studied her face. "There's nothing between Chrissie and me, but at one time we had a brief…very brief…affair. Thank God it's over."
Sarah couldn’t help her response. "She doesn't seem to think its over."
"I don't give a rat's ass what she thinks."
Sarah shifted her eyes from the intensity of his gaze and stared across the river.
Sage asked low, "Will you come to the house tonight?"
She bit her lip. "I…I don't know."
"Okay. I won't press you."
"Can I stay and watch the rest of the shoot?"
"Why do you want to?"
She looked at him. "I don't exactly know."
He glanced across the river. "If that's what you want. Sure." They finished eating in silence and then he stood. "We better get back."
They returned to camp and he excused himself when the photographer called his name. Sarah started cleaning up the table. While she was packing supplies back in the box, Chrissie and the other two models walked over. Rosie and Diane each selected a sandwich to nibble on. Chrissie said, "That Curley guy should have sent a green salad. I told him that's what I wanted for lunch."
"The turkey is really good, you should try it," said Rosie.
Chrissie gave her a disdainful look and directed her attention to Sarah who was tossing discarded plates in a trash bag. "So, Sarah, how much of the shoot did you see?"
"Just a couple of minutes."
"Sage and I look good together, don't we?"
"Yes, you pose well together." Sarah looked at the other models. "All of you."
Chrissie said slyly, "We do other things well together, too…better than well."
Rosie and Diane snickered.
"Yes, he told me about that." Sarah tried to sound catty but it came off as sounding lame.
Chrissie had cornered the market on catty and shot back with, "We just do it for each other."
Sarah and the other models looked at her dumbfounded.
The photographer called to Chrissie. Before she left, she turned to Sarah and winked. "I guess we've had a common experience." Then she twirled and pranced away like she was on a Paris runway.
"What a bitch," Rosie said.
"You got that right," Diane agreed.
"Wh
at do you say we give her a run for her money—cozy up to Sage the rest of the day? Who knows, maybe one of us might get lucky."
The girls started walking away, ignoring Sarah who was once again tossing trash in a bag. Rosie stopped and turned around, "Hey Sarah, thanks for cleaning up."
Before Sarah could think of a witty retort, the leggy beauties were out of earshot. Slinging uneaten sandwiches back in the ice chest, she didn’t hear Newt until he was behind her.
"Hey Sarah, you mad at them sandwiches?"
"Oh, sorry, Newt. Guess my mind is elsewhere."
Newt looked from her to the retreating figures of the models. "Don't let 'em get ta ya. Sage can't stand the lot of 'em."
Sarah shrugged as if she didn't care.
Newt helped her finish cleaning and packing. He waved to a nearby crewmember. "Can I get some help hauling this stuff back to my truck?"
"Sure thing, Newt."
Sarah grabbed the box of supplies and started toward the trail. When Newt started to object, she gave him a steely look. He closed his mouth to whatever he'd been about to say. After the truck was loaded, he opened the passenger door for her.
"I've decided to stay and watch. Sage said it's okay."
"You actu'ly want ta stick around?" Newt sounded incredulous.
Sarah grinned, "Guess I'm a glutton for punishment."
The old cowboy shook his head and climbed into his truck. Sarah waved when he backed out. She returned to the top of the crest and, instead of following the trail to the bank of the river, sat on a boulder near the trailhead and watched the scene below. Newt was right to think her crazy, and she was right when she'd said she was a glutton for punishment. Sage and the models were back in rare form. The poses were sexy, provocative, sensual, and heartbreaking for Sarah to watch. Surrounded by beautiful women, a successful designer, and an attentive crew, Sage was in his element. She felt like the ugly stepsister. Even though he complained about modeling, it was an exciting world he fit into. Her world consisted of lonely days tapping on a computer while attempting to create, in words, scenes like the one unfolding in real life below. If, by some miracle, Sage had lasting feelings for her and wanted to stay in contact, could she handle his world? And if they continued their relationship, how long until he realized just how boring Sarah Carter was? Her heart was already suffering; did she want to prolong the inevitable?