Model Perfect Passion

Billie raised an eyebrow and hesitated a second before extending her hand for a shake.

“All you have to do is say hello. I’m Billie Phillips.” There was a gleam in his eye that she couldn’t quite interpret and she waited to see what he would say next.

Jason brought her hand to his lips for a brief kiss and missed the look on Billie’s face when he said in a low, silky voice, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wilhelmina. I’m surprised to see one of the most sought-after models in the world at my event.”

“My name is Billie,” she said firmly. “Wilhelmina is the woman they pay to pose. Billie is the real person.”

She waited for Jason’s reaction. Some people got it right away that she wasn’t trying to trade on her reputation. Other people took longer to catch on. And some people never got it. Billie hoped Jason Wainwright wasn’t one of the clueless ones!

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MELANIE SCHUSTER

started reading when she was four and believes that’s why she’s a writer today. She was always fascinated with books and loved telling stories. From the time she was very small she wanted to be a writer. She fell in love with romances when she began reading the ones her mother would bring home. She would go to any store that sold paperbacks and load up! When she had a spare moment she was reading. Schuster loves romance because it’s always so hopeful. Despite the harsh realities of life, romance always brings to mind the wonderful, exciting adventure of falling in love and meeting your soul mate. She believes in love and romance with all her heart. She finds fulfillment in writing stories about compelling couples who find true, lasting love in the face of all the obstacles out there. She hopes all of her readers find their true love. If they’ve already been lucky enough to find love, she hopes that they never forget what it felt like to fall in love.

Model Perfect Passion

Melanie Schuster

Dear Reader,

Sometimes when you’re not looking for it, love will find you. That’s what happens to Billie Phillips and Jason Wainwright. Neither one of them was looking for a serious relationship, but they got one.

Jason didn’t make a good impression on Billie when they first met because he viewed her in terms of her physical appearance only. Billie realized that and resented it highly. It took a minute for each of them to set aside their initial assessment of the other and begin to get to know the real person behind the facade. Once they were able to do that, they began to realize that theirs could be a real love, a love to last for all time.

How many of us have judged someone unfairly in the beginning and never gave them a chance to reveal their real personality? And how many times have you been totally caught off guard when a person you thought you couldn’t stand turned out to be a fascinating individual? It’s happened to me, and that’s what gave me the inspiration for this story. Two people who think they know all there is to know about the other person end up getting surprised by love when they open their minds and their hearts.

Stay Blessed,

Melanie

I Chronicles 4:10

MelanieAuthor@aol.com

P.O. Box 5176

Saginaw, Michigan 48638

Dedicated to all my loyal readers.

Thanks for going on another journey with me.

Contents

Acknowledgment

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Acknowledgment

A very special thank-you to Rhodora, Phil, Liz (aka Vlad the Impaler) and Carrie. A special thank-you to Betty Dowdell, even though thank you is never enough. Thanks to all the ladies in my group for keeping me lifted up.

And as always, to Jamil. You’re my rock.

Chapter 1

“Is that a dead rat?”

“Yeah, that’s a big ol’ dead rat. Or a small dead cat. It’s kinda hard to say at this point.”

The first voice, which belonged to Billie Phillips, was undeniably female, although she sounded like an excited preadolescent boy at the moment. “That’s really gross! That was one big-A rat,” she said with a whistle. “What else are we going to find?”

The second voice was the deep, amused one of her brother-in-law, Nick Hunter. “This house has been empty for a long time, so we’re liable to find rats, cats, possums, bats and a bunch of drug paraphernalia. Just watch where you step,” he cautioned.

They were looking over a house that she desperately wanted to buy. It was a three-bedroom brick bungalow in a part of Chicago that had seen better days. The house had fared much worse than the neighborhood, however. It had passed through many owners and tenants and it was currently a mess. It was by far the worst house on the block and there was a lot of work to be done to it to make it livable, which was why Billie wanted to get her hands on it. She’d been working with Nick at his construction business for over three months and she was eager to take on more responsibilities. Nick was mostly into commercial construction, but he did do some residential work. That was where Billie’s main interest lay and she was dying to get hold of a house like this. Her passion was home renovation, and as she’d been telling Nick, there was no better way to learn the business of flipping houses than by actually flipping one. And this semidilapidated house was just the place to begin, she thought.

Billie’s eyes were shining with anticipation and her face was flushed with pleasure as she carefully followed Nick’s lead in exploring the deplorable house. Despite wearing jeans, construction boots, a thermal undershirt and a plaid flannel shirt with a parka on top, she looked adorable. Nick glanced at her and laughed.

She looked at him quizzically. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he told her. “You’ve got soot on your nose, dirt on your jeans and cobwebs in your hair. You sure don’t look like a big-time international model now,” he teased her.

Billie wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s because I’m not. I have a few shoots left to fulfill a couple of contracts, but after that I’m done with prowling the runway and tooting my booty up in the air to show off some ridiculously priced shoes or whatever,” she said, and then grunted as she used a crowbar to pull up the floor tile in the bathroom. Nick had shown her how to look for mold and water damage and she was going after it like rat terrier.

“I liked modeling—it was fun. But I was doing it for the money and for no other reason. This is what I want to do, Nick. I want to take old houses and make them wonderful again. Oh, dang, is that mold I smell?” She straightened up from her semicrouched position and took a good long sniff.

“Cat pee, more like,” was his laconic answer. “You might have a diamond in the rough here, kid. With the right plan you can turn this old place into a showpiece. We need to check out the basement first, though.”

“Nick, I really appreciate you taking so much time with me. I’ve learned so much over the past few months I even amaze myself. I couldn’t do this without you,” she said.

Nick took the end of her long braid and shook it, dislodging a large fuzzy spider from its length, which he prudently didn’t mention. He didn’t think she’d get hysterical, but he wasn’t going to chance it. “Quit thanking me! You’re my family now. How could I not help my little sister? Besides, I stand to gain from this partnership, too. These are the kind of projects I’ve thought about but never really had the time to do. We both stand to do very well on this, Billie.”

They had reached the kitchen and the door that led down to the basement. She was about to fling open the door when Nick held out a cautioning hand. “Hold on. Cover up your head before we go down the stairs. Let me go first, because there’s no telling what’s down there.”

Billie was heeding his words but she was sniffing the stale air with a frown. “Man, it really reeks in here! Is that what serious mold and water damage smells like?”

“It can. Look, you stay right here. I’m going down first,” he said in the authoritative voice she knew meant business.

It was fruitless to argue with him, so she stood back with her arms crossed for more warmth. Chicago winters were brutal and even now, in the middle of April, it was still cold. When Nick opened the basement door Billie fell back and covered her nose and mouth. The funk that raced out of the cellar was indescribable. Nick frowned and shook his head, covering his own mouth and nose before going down the stairs. He was back upstairs in less than a minute with a tense, angry look on his face. Without saying a word he guided Billie out of the house to his truck. Once she was seated he went around to the driver’s side and pulled out his cell phone. He made a terse call to 911 and looked at Billie with a grim smile that held no amusement.

“We’re gonna keep looking for a house to buy. There’s a body in the basement.”

“Ewww,” Billie said. “That’s horrible!” She whipped out her cell phone and punched the button to autodial a familiar number.

“Who are you calling?” Nick demanded.

“Dakota, of course. If I don’t call her we’ll both be in trouble and you know it. An investigative reporter needs to know this stuff before anybody else,” she reminded him.

Nick was making a grotesque face. “You Phillips women are something else. How you can be so beautiful and look so ladylike and be so tough is beyond me. My gorgeous wife is going to come over here and start poking around in that filthy basement like it was a jewelry store, isn’t she?”

Billie flashed him the smile that had earned her millions of dollars. Even with the smudge on her face and a long fuzzy spiderweb still attached to her hair, she was glorious. “Welcome to the family, Nick,” she said with a grin. “Life is never, ever dull with us.”

He leaned back in the driver’s seat to wait for the police to arrive. “I can see that,” he mumbled, and pulled his cap down over his green eyes.

By that evening there was no trace of the tomboyish person who’d accompanied Nick that morning. Billie was at her sister’s house dressed to the nines to attend a formal open house with Nick and Dakota. Nick had to express his admiration and astonishment at her transformation.

“I don’t know how you pulled it off, but you sure do clean up good,” he said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “If somebody saw you this morning they’d think you were a totally different person tonight.”

The events of the morning didn’t show at all in her current appearance. After the police arrived and took their statements, they had lingered at the scene to see if Dakota would show up, and sure enough, she’d arrived and charmed her way into the house. Nick had been both amazed and appalled that even after making a minute inspection of the grisly remains, his intrepid wife had been able to join them at one of the diners she loved and eat a full breakfast. Nick had sipped a cola while watching the two Phillips women chowing down like they didn’t have a care in the world and remarked once again that they were in a class by themselves. They didn’t seem to hear him because Billie was busy telling Dakota how there were towels and old rags crammed under the basement door in the house.

“Nick says it would have smelled a whole lot worse if they hadn’t done that,” she reported. “Can I have some of your grits?”

“Help yourself, but I want a piece of your turkey bacon. And he’s right, it would have stunk all to be-damned if the killer hadn’t tried to stop the airflow a little. Real nasty piece of work, that was.” She noticed that Nick wasn’t eating. “Aren’t you hungry, honey?”

He shook his head. “Most people really don’t like to eat after they find a dead body, baby.”

Dakota didn’t look embarrassed in the least. “You get used to it,” she said with a shrug.

“Like I said, you two are something else,” he said dryly.

And Billie was indeed looking like one in a million for the event they were attending. She had gone to her temporary home, which was the brownstone that Dakota owned and had sublet to Billie when she’d married Nick. After a quick shower and shampoo, she’d deep-conditioned her hair and let it air dry before finishing it with a blow-dryer and hot curlers to set a head full of curls that she finger-combed into a tumbling mass. Her makeup was artfully applied and subtle, but it made her features unforgettable. Instead of wearing a simple black dress, the go-to frock of most fashionistas, Billie was wearing a cerulean-blue dress in silk jersey that was deceptively plain. It was an unassuming little frock with a modestly scooped neck, long sleeves and pleats across the bodice. From the front it looked almost girlish, but the back of the dress was bare to the waist. The blouson skirt ended above her knees and it had a band that drew the eye directly to her fabulous legs. She was wearing black Chanel peep-toe pumps and sheer silk hose. Her only jewelry was big, gold, hoop earrings and a wide, gold, bangle bracelet. Nick grinned at his new sister-in-law.

“You’re gonna have the men eating out of your hand, little sister. I’m’a have to keep my eye on you or there’s liable to be a riot,” he told her with a fond note of teasing in his voice.

“I never really wanted anyone eating out of my hand,” she returned with a grin. “It sounds kind of unsanitary to me. Besides, the main reason I’m going to this soiree is because I want to meet Jason Wainwright. Anyone who’s done as much in real estate as he has is someone I want to get to know,” she said. “He’s been in every business publication I can think of and every article about the future of residential real estate, blah-de-blah-blah-blah. He’s supposed to be the end-all and be-all of real-estate sales in Chicago and I want to know his secrets.” She sat on the sofa to stroke her sister’s cat, Cha-Cha. She was a big Somali cat who preferred men, but showed affection to the few women she liked. Luckily Billie was one of those women.

“Whose secrets? Jason Wainwright’s?” Dakota had joined them in the living room at last and her entrance was worth the wait, to judge by the smitten look on her husband’s face. She and Billie looked a lot alike. They both had beautiful caramel skin, thick black hair and strong, sculpted features. Dakota was tall, but at six feet, Billie was taller. And Dakota had a figure that Billie envied. She always said that Dakota was built like a real woman. She had an awe-inspiring bustline, a small waist and womanly hips with big curvy legs. Billie always felt kind of bony and boyish around her big sister, but she knew better than to complain because Dakota would fuss at her about her self-esteem if she did. Besides, her long slender frame had earned her big bucks as a top model, so she would have been a real hypocrite to whine about it. Still, with Dakota looking so fabulous in a violet crepe dress with a halter neck and a plunging neckline, it was hard not to glance at her own small breasts with sheer dismay.

Dakota’s dress was artfully draped in the front and the skirt swirled away from the empire waist and showed off her legs in her Manolo Blahnik pumps, a gift from Billie, who’d gotten them free after a runway show. Billie had to laugh at the way Nick was looking at his wife. They needed to be leaving the house right now or Nick would talk Dakota right back up the stairs to the bedroom and no one would see the couple for the rest of the weekend. She decided she had to break the spell or miss the chance to meet her real-estate idol.

“You two are just gorgeous. I love that dress, Dakota, and Nick, your tux is slammin’. Let’s go so we can pay our respects and leave early,” she said hurriedly.

Dakota knew better than that, however. “You want to meet Jason Wainwright, don’t you? Just watch yourself around him—he’s supposed to be a big player. Real big,” she added as she inspected Billie’s outfit. “You can ask Toni about him. She’s going to be there tonight, so you can get the scoop from her.” Toni was Dakota’s close friend and just happened to be the lifestyle editor of the paper for which Dakota worked. She knew just about everyone in Chicago, but Billie didn’t care.

“I’m a big girl,” Billie said mildly. “I know how to handle myself with some ol’ wannabe Casanova. Besides, I’m interested in him for strictly business reasons. He’s not even my type,” she said with a sniff.

Dakota made a comical face to keep from laughing. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right, you are good and grown. But from what I’ve heard, Mr. Wainwright is any woman’s type. Very potent, from what I understand.” She paused as her husband held out the arms of her evening coat.

Billie slipped into her own faux-fur coat that Nick held for her while Dakota continued talking.

“All I’m saying is that you’re so gorgeous you’re going to knock his eyes out of his head. You’re the type he goes for, hot and sexy. Just don’t be surprised when he puts the moves on you,” Dakota said.

Billie made a sound of disagreement. “Stop being so overprotective! I’ll bet you that Louis Vuitton bag you’ve been eyeballing that you are one hundred percent wrong about this,” she told her sister. “Nick, you’re my witness, okay? I say he’s going to be strictly business, and if I’m wrong Dakota gets my bag, which I haven’t even used yet.”

Nick chuckled and shook his head. “You’re on your own, little sister. My name is Bennett and I ain’t in it,” he said in his Georgia drawl. He went out the front door first so he could help them both across the threshold. Giving them each an arm to hold onto, he looked down at them with a smile. “But I’m on Dakota’s side on this one. Watch yourself around this guy because he eats up pretty girls like candy. Or he tries to. Be careful. That’s all we’re saying.”

Billie just shook her head. As much as she appreciated their caring advice, she was positive it was totally unnecessary.

Jason Wainwright was standing at the top of the suspended staircase, which was the centerpiece of the atrium in the lobby area. He had greeted so many guests and accepted so many kudos and good wishes that his throat was getting dry. He took a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and sipped it while he watched the throng of fashionably clad partygoers on the main floor. He hated to admit it, but he was getting a little bored with his own party. He was hosting this gala event to show off his new office building on Lakeshore Drive and it was a smashing success. His new building, all black marble and glass, was beautiful and the perfect place from which to conduct the real-estate business that had made him a millionaire several times over.

All the right people were there, the food was perfect, the music was perfect and the Moët was flowing. Even his date was perfect. Her name was Patrice and she was very pretty. She was an actress/model/singer or dancer; he couldn’t keep up with all her aspirations. She had everything he required in a companion; she was gorgeous with a nice personality and no inhibitions. Since he never spent more than a month with any woman, he had no interest in the more intricate aspects of their personas. As long as she looked good on his arm, she could be flavor of the month and get his signature kiss-off gift, a Tiffany necklace. It was what it was and there was no use in trippin’ over it.

He was deep in thought when his younger brother Todd joined him. The resemblance was there, but they were far from identical in appearance. Both were tall, although Jason, at six-four, was the taller of the two. They were both muscular, but Jason was slimmer than Todd. His cheekbones stood out in sharp relief and he had a more sculpted appearance. They shared a deep-brown skin color, but Jason’s eyes were the tawny color of sherry while Todd’s were dark brown. Todd was clean-shaven and Jason wore a mustache and goatee with his close-cropped hair, a marked contrast to Todd’s long locks. What they shared more than anything was the ability to read each other’s thoughts. It bordered on clairvoyance and it excluded everyone else in their family. It was like a connection between the two brothers. At the moment Jason wouldn’t have minded severing that connection.

“You look like you’re at a funeral, Slappy,” Todd said, using the childhood nickname that they often called each other. “You got all of Chicago to turn out on the coldest night of the year and you look like you just lost your last million,” he said with a wicked grin. He scanned the crowd to see what was causing his brother to look so disenchanted with his own party. When his eyes fell on Patrice, he understood everything.

“I gotcha. You’re getting ready to bounce Patrice and it’s bothering you,” he said.

Jason drained the last of the champagne and looked around for a waiter to get rid of the flute. “You’re half right, half-wit. It is about time for Patrice and I to go our separate ways, but it’s not bothering me, as you so eloquently put it. It’s not bothering me at all,” he said.

Todd raised an eyebrow. “That’s what’s got you so upset, Slappy. You’re getting tired of tossing away perfectly nice women, but you don’t know how to stop,” he said wisely. “You have no reason to dump her, but you’re gonna do it, anyway. You need help, bro.”

Jason didn’t even bother to roll his eyes at his brother. “Drop the psychobabble, would you? If I wanted to hear that crap I’d start watching talk shows. Talk about something you know for a change.”

Todd didn’t hear the edge in his voice because he was looking at some people who’d just arrived. “Isn’t that Nick Hunter? Didn’t you say he just got married? Dang, his wife is fine,” he said reverently.

Jason glanced in Nick’s direction and he had to agree. Nick was hard to miss, even in a crowd, because of his towering height. Tonight he was impossible to ignore because of the woman next to him. Todd was right, she was a beauty. He’d heard a lot about the prizewinning journalist Dakota Phillips and he was looking forward to meeting her. But his eyes were drawn to the woman on Nick’s other side. Her head was turned away from Jason, but even from a side view she was a treat for the eye. He was wondering if Nick had a sister he’d never mentioned when she turned so that she was full-face to the two men. A flash of recognition raced through Jason, and Todd took a deep breath.

“Man, that’s Wilhelmina! You didn’t tell me she was coming tonight! Damn, she looks even better in person than she does in pictures.”

Jason tried to act nonchalant, but he had to agree with Todd. The woman was beyond fine and he’d seen her in magazines, on magazine covers, in commercials and in a couple of movies. Suddenly there was no place he wanted to be more than where he was right now. He gave Todd his usual cocky smile and said, “I’ll see you later. There’re some people I want to say hello to.” And with no hesitation he went down the stairs to meet the fascinating new arrival.