Page 5 of Triggered By Love
Not that he had anything actionable. When he’d heard the congressman was to attend the fashion show, Jason had dressed the part, let his date make him presentable, and prepared for a boring evening of watching the attendees rather than the models on the runway.
Which was why he’d noticed a man wearing a cheap tan suit who’d sat alone, staring at the program for most of the show. As a cop, Jason was good at picking out what didn’t belong. When the man made a sudden movement, Jason’s date, Alida Adams, a public relations consultant, had interrupted his response by pointing out the fireman walking onto the runway with Avery.
“See that firefighter? He rescued her from a burning building. What a romantic story.” She sighed and clasped her hand on his arm. “That’s the hottest young designer in the city, Avery Cockburn. Did you like her wickedly colorful designs? So much verve and boldness—like living fire.”
Jason had no comment on the implausible items passing as clothing, but he had noticed the designer earlier on the red carpet.
She was strikingly gorgeous, with long, flowing honey-blond hair, a classically beautiful face, and the sensuous eyes of a Botticelli Madonna—wide-eyed but knowing. Her figure was slender, and she was model tall, but curved in the places that mattered.
He'd caught the last bit from Alida. “She used to be a model, confident, supreme, and completely anonymous. Her aloofness was her appeal. She was a magical creature, dressed and made up as an ethereal being, half here and half there. I suppose it made her feel anonymous, like she was playing a part. Now that she’s a designer, she represents herself, and she’s frightened to come out on stage.”
“Why would that be?” he’d asked as Avery had nervously straightened the tie of her firefighter fiancé. She’d given the man a look so adoring that it had made Jason’s teeth ache.
What would it be like, he’d thought, to be on the receiving end of such love?
The power couple walked down the runway toward the spotlight turnaround. Avery waved shyly at the applause, and the fireman was poised and rock-sturdy at her side, an arm to lean on and, as it turned out, an impenetrable shield.
Alida said something, but Jason was already jumping over the front row of spectators. He’d caught the glint of a raised handgun. It was the sweaty man in the tan suit.
“Get down,” he shouted, drawing his gun to return fire.
The rest was indelibly stamped in his mind. And as he stared at Avery ordering her cappuccino, she turned and her gaze locked on to his with that wide-open Madonna look.
“Get down?” She shrank back against the counter. “Jason? Did you think of something?”
“No, it’s something Alida said.” He blinked to recover his sense of time and place.
“Alida Adams? You know her?” Avery handed the barista her credit card.
“Yeah, she was my date,” Jason admitted. “It’s nothing.”
“What did she say about me?” Avery demanded, not giving him an out. “She’s my publicist, and I’d like to know.”
“She said you were anonymous as a model. Why was that?”
Avery’s face lost all its color. Her already large eyes popped wider, and a look of sheer terror froze over her face like a scream in a silent movie.
* * *
Avery tooka moment to compose herself when Saul, the barista, handed her the cup of cappuccino poised on a tiny saucer. He’d poured the milk into a heart design, as he always did, and she thanked him. His was a friendly, open face, and he’d once helped her out when her purse was snatched outside of the shop.
“Let’s see that smile,” Saul said, holding his hands as if he had a camera ready to snap. “Hold it, that’s good. Smile. Great. Looking good. Beautiful.”
He always played photoshoot with her, as if she were modeling bikinis, which she used to do. He’d once confessed to her that he wanted to be a fashion photographer but hadn’t taken any of the coursework. She made a mental note to introduce him to the guy who did her photoshoots back in her modeling days.
Saul had that quality that put people at ease, and his distraction enabled her to recover from Detective Burnett’s none-of-his-business inquiry.
Smiling wide, Avery twirled toward an empty table in the corner away from the window.
She didn’t look back at Jason, but she could feel his gaze piercing straight through her. How come she didn’t know he’d been Alida’s date that night? And why was her publicist gossiping about her when it was her big night?
She was going to have a word with this woman. Sure, she’d had her best interests in mind, and she’d been the one who’d suggested Brando escort her for the final ramp walk. But if Avery hadn’t let her stage fright get the best of her, Brando would still be alive.
“Avery, wait up,” Jason called after her. “Is everything okay?”
She needed to stop falling apart like this. She had to shape up.
It’s been almost a year already. But how do I get over what could have been?
