Chapter 70

Saturday-Monday, June 30-July 2

I was sitting off to the side talking to Jenny Smith’s mom when my phone pinged. It was a text from Morgan letting me know her flight had landed.

Jenny, of course, had to know everything about Morgan once I used the words “my girlfriend.” She was quite pleased when I informed her that they were really a lot alike, even physically. The difference in size between Jenny and Morgan was less than that between Morgan and Kacie.

Naturally, Jenny had to see a picture. I felt lucky I was able to find the selfie Morgan had taken that night at the Dairy Queen. The only other photos she was in that I could access from my phone were from opening day at the pool. I don’t think her mother would have appreciated me showing a 9-year-old those pics.

“She’s pretty,” Jenny said, “but I’m prettier.”

I really had no response for that. She was.

The day just dragged. It became evident I was not going to get away in time to do anything with Morgan. I sent her a text to that effect with a note that I would call her once we wrapped for the day.

She was not pleased.

What made it worse was I was dressed in ski clothes waiting to be called for my next setup. It felt like I was wading in sweat. I couldn’t wait to get into something cooler. Didn’t they have air conditioning in this place?

While I was waiting, Marie came up to me with a note for Arlene. They wanted me for a four-day assignment the second week of July. It was not a photo shoot, but fell under the terms of the personal-services contract I had with Ms. Fairchild. The fee was to be determined. I promised to pass it along and went to put it in my gym bag, which held my toilet kit and a change of clothes.

It was almost 7 p.m. before they cut us loose for the day. I showered, donned slacks and a polo and was dialing Morgan before I made it to my car.

“Welcome home, Pretty Girl,” I said when she answered. “I missed you.”

“How much?”

“Enough that I almost walked off this shoot,” I said as I unlocked my car. “But if I had, Arlene would have killed me and then I wouldn’t get to see you.”

“Hurry up and meet me at the teen lounge,” she ordered. “We can leave from there.”

“Give me 45 minutes,” I said, cranking the engine.

I drove straight to the club and walked through the main entrance to be greeted by a visibly angry Morgan flanked by her parents. I hoped I wasn’t giving the game away as I shook Dr. and Mrs. Ensberry’s hands before greeting their daughter with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear my girlfriend was a little taller.

“Daddy wants to hear all about your modeling work,” Morgan seethed. “I’ve heard way too much about opportunities in cosmetic dentistry since I got home.”

“Stay cool,” I whispered to her. “One more night won’t kill you.”

Morgan’s parents joined us in the teen lounge, where I grabbed a quesadilla for my dinner and regaled Dr. Ensberry with tales of standing around in strange clothes while people took my picture.

Mrs. Ensberry wanted to know about my trip to Malibu while her daughter just sat there and steamed. They kept this up until 8:30, at which point I had to beg off so I could be on the road for work at 5 a.m. Morgan stomped off toward the ladies room, leaving me with her parents.

“I saw Carl Bennett on the range this morning,” Dr. Ensberry said. “I never realized how much he and I have in common. He said you were good at keeping your cool under pressure. Does that help you in modeling?”

Yeah, he knew. And he was letting me know he knew.

“I would think it would help you in whatever you do,” I said. “But standing around waiting to have your picture taken has to be a lot less stressful than sticking your fingers into strangers’ mouths.”

Morgan emerged from the ladies room, walked right up to me and pulled my head down for a steamy kiss. If that wasn’t a big “fuck you” to her parents, I didn’t know what was.

“Call me when you get done tomorrow,” she said, then spun and headed for the exit.

I said my good-byes to her parents and let them get out of the building before I headed to my car.

Arlene was waiting in the apartment — clothed this time — when I arrived. She’d prepared another light dinner, which I was only too glad to have. That quesadilla wasn’t going to last me until I got to the shoot in the morning.

I made sure to give her the note from Marie before I got into being cockblocked by Morgan’s parents.

“This sounds interesting,” Arlene said of the assignment. “Must be some kind of personal appearance if it’s not a shoot.”

Arlene barely contained her laughter at my “date” with the Ensberrys, which had lasted less than an hour.

“Morgan was not happy and I’m afraid she’s going to provoke a confrontation none of us need,” I said. “If she’s at the pool tomorrow, could you please talk to her?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” my goddess said. “Now let’s get you to bed.”

Sadly, she meant by myself.

I was taking a break Sunday afternoon when my phone buzzed with an incoming call from Morgan. She knew I was supposed to limit myself to texts while working. The people in charge of photo shoots took a dim view of models yakking on their phones when they were supposed to be modeling.

I slipped outside the studio to answer the call, hoping I could take care of what she wanted before I was called for my next shot. I didn’t even get to say hello before Morgan’s crying erupted from the speaker.

“Pop-pop died!” she wailed, trying to get words out between sobs.

It took a couple of minutes, but I finally got enough out of her to get a basic understanding of the situation. Pop-pop, Mrs. Ensberry’s father, had died in his sleep, apparently of a heart attack. Even as we spoke, the Ensberrys were packing their bags. They were catching the next flight to Omaha, which was leaving about 6:30. They had just enough time to get through security if they left right now.

I could hear Dr. Ensberry in the background trying to shepherd his wife and daughter to the car. I clearly heard him tell Morgan she could call me once they were on their way, but now was time to move.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” I said. “Do what your dad says. I’ll make sure someone can answer my phone if I can’t. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Everything was up in the air for the moment. Family and friends had to be contacted and funeral plans made. Morgan getting to see me after two weeks away was far down the list of priorities. She’d had one frustrating night at home and was now having to deal with this. I just wanted to give her a big hug.

I went back inside and found Mrs. Smith, Jenny’s mom, explained the situation and handed her my phone just in time to be called back to work. After sitting around so much Saturday, I was being given barely enough time to change outfits before being hustled off to the next shot today. It was after 6 p.m. before I was able to retrieve my phone.

Morgan had called to say they were about to board their flight. It would be 9 p.m. at the earliest before she could call again. The more likely scenario was sometime after 10, by which I’d better be asleep.

My day finally ended and I grabbed an enchilada plate from Rosa’s for dinner on the way back to Arlene’s. I’d managed to get her word on the Ensberrys’ situation. It sucked for me — I’d be lucky to spend any time with Morgan this week — but my heart did go out to her family. Her mother could have created a shitstorm of trouble for me at any time over the last month, and might yet, but I didn’t want the family to have to deal with this kind of misery.

My redheaded goddess was again waiting for me at the apartment. She had been in contact with Mom regarding the Ensberrys. It seemed everyone was on the same page, it was just a matter of when I would get to see Morgan again.