Page 15 of The Biker and the Gamer
I’ve seen some amazing art in Denver, Colorado. But nothing beats the most glorious piece of art that is Kendra Tisdale.
Kendra
After one wholeweek of anxiously expecting the rug to be yanked out from under my feet at any moment, to be laughed at and told this was all one big prank, the deal is finally in motion.
The contracts have been received, reviewed and negotiated, the dotted lines have been inked, hands have been shaken, and a fat, juicy deposit is sitting comfortably in my bank account.
Yep, it’s real all right. My traveling dreams are a lot closer than they were two weeks ago.
Helmet tucked under my arm, I push through the doors of Vaughn and Drake Entertainment’s rented office building.
I’m on lunch break from The Metal House and using that open hour to report for duty at my newest side job. As per the contract. I’ll be getting a bunch of close-ups taken today, or something like that.
After giving the receptionist my name, he instructs me to have a seat in the waiting room.
Six minutes later, Alec’s assistant comes to collect me and escorts me to the elevator. I’ve dealt with her at least twice over the past week and I’m sure she’s told me her name, but for the life of me, I can’t remember it. Probably because she’s so mousy and unmemorable. Ugly clothes, ugly glasses, ugly hair, soft voice. So dull and boring she could be a brown wall.
“What’s your name again?” I ask as the elevator doors slide to a close.
“It’s Tiffany.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose and shrugs. “Don’t feel bad for not remembering, it happens a lot with me. I’m told that I’m not very ‘memorable’.”
Yikes.
“Then be memorable.”
Her head whips to me. “W-what?”
“Be memorable,” I repeat. “Don’t get drowned out in the world. Stop hiding behind those ugly cardigans and dull hair and findyou. Thememorableyou. And when you find that you, rock the shit out of her without apology.” I nudge her with my elbow. “Become a Tiff instead of a Tiffany. The world isn’t kind, and people are even worse. You want people to notice you? Stop forgetting your name? Thenmakethem.”
“Um, I don’t—how do I even…what?” she splutters.
I laugh as the elevator dings and the doors open. She’ll figure it out.
I see him before I even exit the elevator. Across the massive space of desks, chairs, and Apple computers, is an all-glass office. Inside, he’s pacing leisurely back and forth, tossing a stress-ball in the air and catching it as he speaks into a Bluetooth earpiece.
A smile tugs at my lips. He’s ridiculous. Today he’s wearing hideous mustard corduroy pants, a black turtleneck, and a hunter-green vest. I can’t even begin to… I mean,why? Just…why?
“Okay, so back in SV we have a high-powered room where you can just walk in, do a few instructed poses, and in ten minutes you’re out,” Tiffany begins as she leads me through the office, “but seeing as this a temporary setup and we don’t have that here, the team will have to work with what they’ve got.”
As we’re passing Alec’s office, he turns in time and our eyes meet. And damn him and that ‘I can see right throughyou’ stare again.
As he continues talking in his earpiece, he wiggles his fingers in a wave at me.
When I roll my eyes instead of waving back, he grins. I don’t know what it is about him, but every time I see him something weird happens to my brain. I forget who I am and what I like and picture myself straddling him and riding him to kingdom come. Like, where the hell are these thoughts coming from, andwhyare they coming to me? The guy’s as lame and wacky as they come. Annoyingly sunny and optimistic. Total opposite of me.
I’m a pessimist on all levels, distrustful and depressive. And I loathe people like him. People who believe the world is kind and giving and has oh so much to offer.
Boo.
Tiffany leads me to the far west of the office, into an all-white room with a photo shoot setup. I’m introduced to two other sunny Californians, Zack and Conroy. And in a few minutes, the process begins.
I have a bright, laser-like apparatus scan me from head-to-toe.
I’m circled from all angles with a video camera.
I’m given toy weapons and asked to pose this way and that. I have about a hundred close-ups taken.
A maddening process to say the least, but the fat deposit in my bank account is motivation enough to tamp down my irritation and play nice. They can take close-ups of my nostrils if they want to.
