Chapter 12: Part 2

The elevator doors opened and in stepped the most powerful man in America. He could make her career or break it depending on how this elevator ride went. It was a plus that he was good looking too. If he'd been one of those fat cat record producers then this part of her plan would have sucked.



Pimping herself for money sucked, but what the hell. Actresses did it all the time.



Amanda stepped into the lift and held back her smile of triumphed as the doors slid closed. They were alone, the only way this would work.



She did her best to sound breathless and needy. "Hello Mr. Taylor."



His gaze slid down her body. She'd worn a skimpy outfit, something that would turn his head and keep his interest.



After she knew he had taken a long look and liked what he saw she turned towards him. Now or never. If she failed she'd be stuck signing in bars. "I've got a proposition."



"Everyone does, how different is yours?"



"I can make you money."



His eyes lit up as he licked his lips. "How much?"



"Just depends on what you're willing to give." A sickening feeling rolled through her. She was going to throw-up. Even with his good looks she hated pimping herself, but going from the bar scene to top record label took work. She reached up and let her fingers slide down his face.



He changed in front of her eyes. No longer was the face the same. The eyes were menacing, the eyebrows pinched together in anger. The mouth cruel and his cheeks not as smooth. He opened his mouth and clamped down on her cheek. She screamed.



Amanda bolted upright, her breath coming in gasps. She heard the electronic beep surrounding her. The scent of antiseptic and floor cleaner hit her. The white walls were devoid of any pictures.



She sank back onto the bed and let the tears come. Her life had changed so much from that naive little girl who sang in the bars to the songbird princess she became. And now this. She held her arms up, disgusted by the damage the sun had inflicted.



No longer was her skin a light golden brown, now it was splotchy and leathery. Like she'd aged fifteen to twenty years over night. The doctors had tried to talk to her about the possibilities of melanoma but she'd blew them off. Eventually she'd have to hear about how bad it could get, but not now.



Her speaking voice had returned but she'd yet tried to sing. The fear was the worst. What if she could never sing again? The stage had been her life since the age of eleven. She worked hard to go from church choir to center stage. The circus of the song business had taken its toll, but nothing like the last three weeks.



As far as she knew word wasn't out about her being found. The hospital staff had been able to function without hiring a police presence. When word broke she knew it would get crazy. The doctors said she'd probably able to leave the hospital in a few days. Maybe moving to a hotel would match time with the news that she'd survived.



It had been a few days since she'd really looked into a mirror. She'd caught her reflection once or twice by accident but looked away as soon as possible. The thought of actually going in front of cameras terrified her. The Sun, the Globe and the Enquirer would rip her to shreds.



With shaky steps she made her way to the bathroom. The overly bright lighting in the small space wouldn't do her any favors, but she had to know how bad off she was.



She pulled the door open and stood in the door jam for two whole minutes before she stepped into the bathroom. The light switch was next. She held onto the little white nub for a long time before actually flipping the thing, letting light flood into every nook.



Four deep breaths gave her the strength to step into the room, but she still couldn't look into the mirror. She heard someone in her room and she flipped off the light, not wanting the harshness of the florescence to highlight her flaws.



Her heart jumped when she saw Bill. She gasped and he looked directly at her, his eyebrows raised.



"Let me guess, you were looking at yourself in the mirror."



"What are you, psychic?"



"No, just observant." He came over to the bathroom and flipped the light switch back on.



"No, please no. I can't."



"You are beautiful, Amanda. No one can take that away from you."



"But the sun damage, the cuts. I'm ruined."



"No, you are not." He turned her towards the mirror and stood behind her, supporting her with his solid frame. Her head fit under his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around her.



"I can't."



"With my help you can."



"But what if I'm ugly."



He spun her around, his finger on her chin. She couldn't hold his gaze for long, but she didn't want to look away either.



He stepped closer to her, his feet apart, his hips plastered against her. She felt every inch of his body cocooning her. "You are beautiful. I'm enthralled with you." He bent his head, his gaze locked onto hers. "I'm going to kiss you, not because of who you were but because you are."



Her entire body quaked as his lips came down on hers. The first few seconds he was soft and gentle, sliding his soft lips against hers. Then he crushed her to him, his tongue teasing her lips open. The blood rushed from her head and she wondered if she could stand on her own.



She couldn't tell how long the kiss lasted or when it ended, all she knew was Bill held her tight, his lips kissing the top of his head.



"I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to kiss you, had to kiss you."



"It was wonderful."



"I don't want to take advantage of you. I'm an FBI agent and if I become more right now it will mess up the case. I don't want an arrest to be invalidated because I couldn't keep my hands to myself."



"You aren't taking advantage of me. If anything I'm taking advantage of you."



"I'm married."



She pushed back, horrified to be the other woman. "You would cheat on your wife."



"It's wrong. I know it's wrong. She followed me here and demanded I drop your case."



"What do you mean? You didn't have a thing for me before did you?"



"No, although I do love your music. She has issues and hates the FBI. When I said no she went off and shacked up with another guy. I won't be the type of guy that does the tit for tat thing."



"So where does that leave you with that kiss you just gave me?"



"I'm weak. I know I'm weak and I just wanted to kiss you. It was selfish of me to want you when I can't give you what you deserve right now."



She scoffed and pushed past him, tired of the whole thing. "What do you know of what I need?"



"I'm sorry, Amanda. I'm attracted to you, I won't lie about that. I also won't act on that attraction until this case is over."



"What if I don't want you?"



"If you can look me in the eye after all of this is over and tell me you don't want to see me then I'll leave and never bug you again."



"You're confident."



"I don't mean to be cocky, I just want a chance."



"This is wrong. What if I can't give you what you want?"



"I'm a very patient man. I need to go take care of some stuff. I'll be back later."



He backed out of the room, letting the door shut behind him. Damn, she'd forgotten the dream and the faces. What had it all meant? She plopped down on the chair trying to remember each detail. Her stomach twisted as she thought about the two faces she saw. Oh God, she'd told the sketch artist to draw the wrong man. She had to call Bill.



Copyright Sara Thacker 2011