“Now stop talking. Lip gloss touch-up and you’re good to go.”
I sat in the make-up chair clad in a long white robe. My hair was a dark silky fall straight down my back to my bra strap. My eyes were smoky and my lips were red. A nice sexy look.
Abigael finished and stepped back with a happy smile. “You’re my masterpiece.”
“You say that to everyone you work on.”
“Yeah, but I mean it this time. Damn, I’m good.”
I laughed.
Abigael was great to work with. She always had a funny story about a bridezilla or similar to spill during the hour or more I spent in the chair. She touched up the lip gloss then fixed a few spots where my skin had either reddened or darkened.
“Stop frowning,” she mumbled. “Not that I don’t blame you with the stuff going on right now.”
“You’ve been on the gossip sites, huh?”
“Didn’t need to. It’s the talk of the town.”
I groaned. “Slow news week. This too shall pass.”
“Sorry,” she said. “You pr
obably don’t want to talk about it. My bad.”
“No, it’s fine.” I stretched my neck when she stopped touching up my face with concealer for a moment. “There’s a lot going on right now. Kind of hard not to think about it. I tried to keep it quiet, but that clearly didn’t work. All of last night I just lay awake trying to figure out who it could be.”
“So what do you know about him?”
I took a deep breath, thinking it through. “He knows my proper address. Not too difficult to find out, but means he’s not an amateur sending stuff care of my agent. Mind you, is there even such a thing as an amateur stalker?”
“Good question.”
“And he knows stuff about me. The lingerie was my label and the right size. He also has access to cow hearts, though probably he could just have got them from the butcher.”
“Blech.”
“Right?” I shivered. “He’s clever and opportunistic, handing stuff off to the delivery guy and paying him to bring it in. But at the same time, him coming to the building again shows he’s willing to take some risks. There were a few ways that little stunt might not have worked out.”
Abigael just frowned. It was a frowning kind of topic of discussion.
“He’s bloodthirsty, obviously. Likes using a knife.”
“You’re freaking me out,” said Abi. “This is why I don’t watch murder documentaries.”
“Imagine being in my shoes. It’s always at the back of my mind, making me jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof as Elizabeth Taylor would say.”
Abi gave me a small smile. It was a shitty situation. No hiding that. She finished up my face while Lena stood in front of the shooting area with its all-white surrounds. This room had no windows to let in outside light. She had another room upstairs with large industrial style windows that was cool to work with. Air-conditioners were doing their best, but I still felt the heat from the lights. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the fake eyelashes and the brightness.
“I like this look.” Zane, my co-designer for the lingerie line, took my robe. “The demi-cup bra was a nice idea. Goes well with the boy shorts.”
“We work magic together, dude.”
Zane sniffed. “Don’t call me dude. Dude.”
I held back a smile. “You were right, the trompe l’oeil embroidery is beautiful in light blue. And I like the opaque back on the panties.”
“Such a sweet set. You look almost virginal,” sighed Lena, lifting her camera to her face.