Julie Leto – Insatiable (страница 2)

Ruby’s smile curled with ageless wisdom. “Life ain’t like the movies, Deveaux. Mostly, this job is standing around, looking tough and politely asking people to follow the rules. Not to mention giving directions to the bathroom.”

Samantha stepped down from the box dais that provided a clear vantage of her area and wished she hadn’t made such a disparaging remark. She already strongly suspected that once again, this job wasn’t going to work out. She’d tried approximately four other professions in the past six months and nothing kept her interest. Except for becoming a personal bodyguard. That one really had her blood pumping. If only her brother-in-law, bodyguard Brandon Chance, would come home from his honeymoon with her sister so they could get to work. He’d already put her on the payroll, but with Brandon out of the country and no clients to serve, Sam had done little but earn some of her certifications and licenses and spend the petty cash on neat gadgets. She’d taken the security job at the Dome for two reasons—to pay back the money Brandon had originally budgeted for office rent and electricity and, at Brandon’s suggestion, to garner some experience.

So far, all she’d learned was that her attention span was shorter than even her second-grade tutor would have imagined. Oh, and that she could now be aroused by a pencil-drawn hottie on a pasta-jar label.

“I don’t mean to insult the job, Ruby. I know you love it. It’s just…”

Ruby pushed the sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “Not what you expected. Never is, ’specially with your background. Pretty girl like you. Working in the movies, living the good life…”

“Define good,” Samantha interrupted, well aware that Ruby was teasing. They’d had this conversation over coffee at Café du Monde after last week’s Julio Iglesias concert. During her Hollywood childhood, Sam had always had food in her belly and a roof over her head—if take-out Chinese and trailers on movie lots counted. Her father had loved her in the way only a self-absorbed genius could, meaning that he showered her with affection whenever he didn’t have something more important to do.

A child thrust into an adult world from the age of five, Samantha was lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed—at least on the surface. She was only now starting to repair the damage to her heart. Her life in Hollywood could not be described as good unless the standards were incredibly shallow.

Ruby’s chuckle lacked humor. “Good always is a relative term. For today, this is a good job. No worries. Easy money. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

Samantha frowned, knowing full well what she’d encounter tomorrow—another day of watching conventioneers stuff food samples into their mouths while planning to cut out early and hit the bars on Bourbon Street. Samantha had wished this temporary job would work out, but she had her heart set on a career whose main benefit would be excitement. A little danger. Maybe she’d be lucky and there’d be a scuffle over the free tortilla chips or a grab for the Godiva. Anything to keep her from hijacking the next flight to Brazil so she could drag her brother-in-law back to the States.

“You sound like my mother,” Samantha said. “Sometimes I think she forgets that she stole ‘Tomorrow is another day’ from Scarlett. Unfortunately, I’ve always been a now and today kind of person. You’re less disappointed by life that way.”

“Are you? Less disappointed?” Ruby shook her head and grinned, her bob of raven hair not daring to move from where she’d gelled the strands in place. “Just wait until Signore Gorgeous makes his appearance. That ought to liven things up.”

Samantha swallowed her shock.

“The LaRocca model is coming here?”

“That’s the scoop. They’d be stupid to keep him under wraps. He’s the hottest draw I’ve seen in the Superdome since Mike Ditka coached the Saints.” Ruby lowered her shades. “Whoever he is, the man’s a god.”

Samantha felt inordinately annoyed she couldn’t argue that point without sounding like a big fat liar. Gorgeous men, real or in pictures, simply weren’t on her agenda anymore. She was done equating lust with love—with allowing her passions to triumph over cool thinking and common sense. She’d banked on coming home to Louisiana to find her focus. But since her job experience consisted of baby-sitting her father—a creative prodigy who could barely balance his checkbook—and stunt work that kept Devlin’s high-priced actors out of harm’s way, Sam wasn’t exactly a good candidate for the secretarial pool.

Her life had always been about adventure. Thrills. Discovery. When Devlin left her mother and sister in New Orleans after the divorce, Sam had followed, anxious even at five to see the world with her father, to live on location and mingle with the stars. She’d even appeared in a few films until she hit those awkward teenage years. By then, Sam had already begun to despise the celebrity spotlight. Becoming a stunt double had been the perfect profession—anonymous but exciting.

Then she’d been injured. She’d moved in with Anthony, followed a few months later by their heart-wrenching breakup. Returning to New Orleans after twenty-three years hadn’t been easy, but she’d come determined to heal all her wounds—physical and emotional—start over and reconnect with her family.

She’d made some headway. Her agility and strength were at one hundred percent. She no longer thought about Anthony every day or about the choices she should have made. The future beckoned.

Unfortunately, even romantic, outrageous New Orleans had held little promise by way of truly exciting career choices, until her sister married Brandon. Too bad the eldest Chance brother, in addition to his military background, had an insatiable sexual appetite that kept the couple on their honeymoon four weeks past their scheduled return date. Or maybe Sam should blame her sister. Surrendering to passion seemed to be a genetic trait.

Aw, hell. She couldn’t blame either of them. She’d never been one to deny her own desires—and she’d never even really been in love. Sam couldn’t begrudge her sister or Brandon their wedded bliss, but she still wished they’d be blissful at home.

In the meantime, Brandon had suggested that Sam pull some security gigs for hands-on learning. Nothing too risky, he’d insisted. Her stunt-work training gave her physical agility and mental preparedness, but the movie sets, speeding cars and fireball explosions had been controlled. Carefully planned and painfully executed. She needed to experience the unexpected—learn to trust her gut.

Somehow, she doubted the Supermarketing Expo fit the bill.

“Samantha, this is Mitchell. Respond please.”

Samantha unhooked the walkie-talkie from her belt and turned from the chatter and music echoing through the professionally designed booths and displays. “Deveaux, here.”

“The CEO of LaRocca Foods is on his way to his booth. He’s a major player. Tim’s with him. Stand tall.”

Samantha smirked. Another executive type headed toward his company’s booth and another opportunity for the security staff to play Secret Service to people whose importance hardly warranted professional protection. Except for the guys at the front assigned to allow entrance to paid conventioneers, the Expo was hardly high-risk. Now, if Mr. Model-licious did indeed plan an appearance as rumored, Sam might get her wish. Mass hysteria and raging female hormones could cause a very dangerous mix.

She knew that firsthand.

“Gotcha, boss.”

“And tell Gumbert to return to her position.”

Ruby slipped her glasses back onto her regal nose. “I guess the ogle-fest is over. Back to ice-cream land. How the heck do they expect me to stay on this diet when they keep handing me samples of mint chocolate chip? Still want to trade?”

Samantha shook her head. She had few weaknesses in the world, but one was definitely butter pecan ice cream, which she knew they were also serving at the booth near Ruby’s station.

“Fat chance.”

Ruby patted her flat tummy. “Fat is right. Have fun with the big shot.”

Samantha saluted then snapped the walkie-talkie back onto her belt, slipped her hands behind her back and waited for the corporate executive to rush by and ignore her diligence. She hated this job. She hated hating this job. So far, the only good thing to come of her move was being closer to her sister and mother—and again, the definition of good came into question.

Her sister, when not honeymooning in some South American country, was a trip in herself—and gave new meaning to the term unconventional. Her mother, a world-renowned medium and self-proclaimed New Orleans spirit guide, defied any and all definitions. But so far, Endora had been supportive of Samantha’s return, even when she’d taken this “rent-a-cop” deal to supplement her income instead of accepting Mommy’s proffered handout.

Which she wouldn’t need if her father hadn’t reinvested the money he owed her from her last job into his upcoming film. He’d named her as a producer and assumed she’d be thrilled. She could end up obscenely rich if the movie proved a hit. Too bad Sam didn’t care about vulgar wealth. She just wanted to be comfortable, stable and self-sufficient. A couple of months under her brother-in-law’s tutelage and she’d be a fully licensed, salary-earning bodyguard. She’d already obtained her concealed-weapon permit and had begun her coursework over the Internet. Now she needed some on-the-job training.