Deeply Personal

Chapter 21

Paul

“Looking good, dude.”

Paul had flown with friends to Miami Beach for the holidays—the gorgeous murals at Wynwood Walls created by street artists had stunned him, the view of the beach from his hotel room, walking along Ocean Drive, it was all fantastic—and now it was January second, and he was back in Nashville. He had planned on flying to Tampa to see his grandparents, but Gran had come down with Covid, and so all bets were off. His calls about moving were still landing on deaf ears and time was slipping away.

He was lifting with country star Travis Trillwell during an early morning session, and it was Wednesday, the day before his kitchen demo, when he would hopefully be seeing Jessica again. He’d been thinking about her a lot while he was away. They had ended their last fake date at the lake house and nothing had changed between them. He was sure of it. She still wasn’t interested. He should just accept it. Paul couldn’t decide if her lack of interest in him was a good thing or not. Maybe it was really not worth pursuing since she seemed so reluctant. He just wasn’t sure.

Travis had just done a set of ten bench presses. Next to him was Tony, who was doing reverse butterfly exercises and bicep curls. Paul was impressed. The guy was as dedicated as anyone he’d ever met.

“Got a new song I’m working on,” Travis said as he sat on the bench, sweat beading on his neck. “You wanna hear it?”

“Sure. Of course.”

Tony wheeled over to them to hear as well.

“ Torn between the best of both girls ,” Travis sang, his voice as smooth as bourbon poured over ice, yet laced with a grainy, down-to-earth edge that reminded Paul of the grittiness of red Georgia clay and the callused hands of a hardworking farmer. “ I can’t live in two separate worlds, so . . . Which hand do you take, which heart do you break, when you know they both care? Which hand do you take, which heart do you break, in a two-against-one love affair ?”

Paul and Tony applauded.

“Very cool. True story?” Paul asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Two women going after you, and you had to choose?” Tony said.

“Yep.”

“Some guys get all the luck,” Tony said.

Travis laughed. “Not when one of them ends up suing you for divorce.”

Victoria walked up to them and touched Travis’s shoulder. “Hey, Trav.”

“Hey there, Vic.” He grinned at her.

“Can you get me some tickets to your concert?” she asked as she whisked some hair off her face.

“Victoria,” Paul said. “You can’t just walk up to him and—”

“No, it’s okay.” Travis laughed. “I can get you a couple. Call my management office and tell them Riley sent you. That’s my code word. Not a problem.”

“Thanks! You’re the best,” she said. “Got a new boyfriend.” She smirked at Paul and moved closer to Travis. “He would love to see you in concert.”

“How’s your modeling career?” Travis asked.

She stood taller and moistened her lips with her tongue. “Hoping to land a shampoo commercial. I’m waiting to hear.” She flicked her hair back again.

“Myyyysterrrry,” Travis mimicked, whispering the word like a sexy model would do.

Victoria laughed as she touched his shoulder again. “You make fun, but that one word made me a hell of a lot of money in that Chanel ad.”

She walked away, and Travis shook his head. “She’s a trip.”

“Tell me about it,” Paul said. “From here to China and back.”

***

Later, Paul was in his office paying some bills and trying not to think about Jessica and the remodel when Victoria walked in and sat in the chair across from him.

“What’s up, Vic?” He kept his eyes on his computer, scrolling through his spreadsheets. Was the electric bill that much this month? Really?

“I’m pissed.”

Paul looked away from the monitor and focused on her as she stared down at her nails, which were now dark blue. Last week they were yellow. She looked especially attractive in those new leggings and tank top that fit her body like a second skin.

“What’s up?” he asked, placing his hands on his desk.

“I just got notified. My agency delisted me.” She frowned and ran a hand through her hair, crossing one leg over the other.

“Why?”

“On my last shoot, I slapped a photographer. And now the word is out that I’m hard to work with, and—”

“Wait. You slapped a photographer?”

“He made me so mad.” She leaned forward in her chair. “He was bossing me around, telling me to pose this way and that way. He was never satisfied with what I did, and he was yelling at me by the end of the shoot. I mean, he was so rude.”

“But aren’t they supposed to tell you how to pose?”

“Not the way he was talking to me. He was treating me like I was some sort of product placement.”

“You are a product placement. You’re a model.”

“He was too rude, though, and so demanding. The other photographers have been way nicer. When it was all over, we got into a yelling match at the door, and I let him have it. Called him every name in the book, too.”

“Wow.” Paul couldn’t suppress his laughter. “Good for you.”

“You think?”

“At least you stood up for yourself.”

“But they’re canceling my contract.” Victoria’s eyes were misting. “I have one more shoot, and then I’m done. What should I do?” She looked at Paul for guidance.

“Why don’t you make amends? Tell them you’re sorry, and see if they’ll take you back. How hard could it be? I mean, everyone makes mistakes, right?”

“But I’m not sorry.” Steely defiance flashed in her eyes.

This was the other thing about Victoria that had made Paul want to break it off with her. She was all impulse and instant gratification, stubborn too.

Paul spoke softly. “Don’t you want to be a model?”

“I do. I really and truly do. It’s the perfect job for me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So, tell them you’re sorry, get down on your knees, and call that photographer too. If you humble yourself, I bet they’ll gladly take you back. You’re good at it, Vic. The camera eats you up. I bet they’ll give you a second chance.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure.”

She stood and came over to Paul’s side of the desk, laying a hand on his shoulder. “See? That’s what I like about you. You always could knock some sense into me.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “How come we didn’t make it, Paul? I thought we were good together.”

“Please, Victoria. You know why. We just don’t fit. I’m a bit too deep for you.”

And the ability to stick around long-term? Paul had to admit—it just wasn’t his style. Even Victoria had wanted him to stay, but he’d walked away, as usual. He just couldn’t do it. The whole thing frightened him, and he was always afraid he’d mess things up. Just like he’d done with Eva and Ethan.

“I like it when a personal trainer goes deep, though,” she purred, smiling at him, her too-white, perfect teeth nearly blinding.

Paul cleared his throat as an image of Jessica popped into his mind, sharing that small bed with him at the Buchanans’. “Don’t you have Mr. McMartin to train next?” he asked Victoria.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, then. Make sure he works on his glutes.”

“You’re no fun,” she said as she headed to the door.

“ Professional , Victoria,” he said. “Remember. That’s how we need to keep it, okay?”

“Okay.” She sighed and drew her arms close to her chest. “Hey, is that Marsha chick still coming on to you?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to talk to her?”

He’d considered asking Victoria to give it a shot, but he was afraid she’d say the wrong thing, causing Marsha to storm out of the studio, never to return. “No. I definitely don’t want to upset her. I can handle it.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” She turned and shook her butt at him, then headed out the door.

He was so glad they weren’t dating anymore.