Camera flashes burst around the photography studio at the ESPN office in Los Angeles, blinding Effie momentarily. Feeling like a total idiot, she twirled in front of the camera as instructed, dressed in an oversize ruffle mini-dress, with an all-over butterfly print on double satin silk. The dress had been created by Zander’s favorite designer, K.
A couple of months ago, Zander had flown the designer from Italy to Seattle to create a newsworthy wardrobe for Effie for today’s interview.
The dress, paired with climbing shoes, added a quirky appearance to her photoshoot.
“Turn to the side, love, and stand on your tip-toes so I can capture your strong legs,” Ricardo, the photographer, said. A fifty-something man, he sported a barrel chest from too many cigarettes and reeked of tobacco. But with his ease behind the camera and his reputation as one of photography’s finest, how could Effie fault him for his bad habits?
She turned and lifted to her toes, her feet screaming in the tight shoes. She glanced at Zander.
He wore a K-designed tuxedo with olive and gold accents that matched the butterfly print in her dress. Climbing shoes were on his feet, too, which made her laugh.
“Oh, that’s a golden shot. Yes. Love it!” Ricardo gushed, his dark eyes sparkling, as he snapped away. “Okay, Zander, your turn. Show this beauty some love.”
“My pleasure,” Zander said, stepping over to Effie. Effortlessly, he bent over, placed one arm beneath her knees and one around her shoulders, and scooped her up.
She squealed with pleasure, wrapping her arms around his strong neck. Electric sparks sizzled between them.
The camera flashed several times.
Then, Zander lowered his head and kissed her mouth.
The intense passion he poured into the kiss made her head swim.
More flashes went off. “And there’s our cover shot. Okay, kids, we’re good. I’ve got everything I need.”
Zander released her. “I love you, Effie D’Archangel.”
Her heart soared. “I love you, too, Zander King.”
“I’m taking these flipping shoes off for the interview.” She placed a hand on Zander’s arm for balance and peeled off one shoe, then another. She dropped them on the floor.
“Same here,” he said, steadying himself against her shoulder to remove his climbing shoes.
Lightness filled her whole body. After the climbing competition—which Zander easily won—she’d moved out of Haley and Arnold’s place and moved into Zander’s penthouse. They’d spent the last few weeks enjoying one another, in more ways than sexually. Not that the sex isn’t off the charts fantastic. They spent a lot of time in his penthouse, talking, planning for the future, and exploring one another, heart and soul.
As they stepped into the interview room where the reporter, Julie Locklear, waited, Effie took his hand.
Julie, her blonde hair glistening and her makeup camera-ready perfection, brightened when they entered. Even her smart coral pencil skirt and matching blazer, over an eggshell-colored shirt, appeared perfectly tailored and creased. She flashed them a newsworthy smile and beckoned them to two chairs across the cream-colored table from where she sat.
Effie and Zander crossed the room, ducking past the cameras and camera operators, and stepped across cords snaking along the floor.
Effie sat in one of the barely comfortable black leather chairs.
Zander did the same. He crossed his legs, propping the ankle of one foot over the leg of the other.
Effie reached for his hand.
He stroked her hand with his thumb.
“Thank you for choosing ESPN as your media voice,” Julie said. She leaned forward, almost conspiratorially. “Now, don’t worry about being ambushed by an unexpected question. Nothing other than what we already discussed will be touched upon. I’m on your side.”
Effie nodded. Even though the ESPN staff had assured her of their intentions, she still held fear in the back of her mind about being asked about the scandal.
“And just relax. I’m a great interviewer, if I do say so myself. My job is to give the people the truth. That’s our goal today.” Julie smiled her perfect smile.
Effie had never seen someone so poised up close. It was like every move was scripted.
A cameraman gave Julie a signal with his hand.
She nodded and said, “Ready?”
“I suppose,” Effie said. She glanced through the glass wall and doors into the newsroom.
People bustled about, typed on their computers, chatted, or held phones to their ears.
“We’re going to set things right,” Zander said, bringing her attention back. He flashed her a searing hot gaze.
Her insides melted. She smiled at him.
He squeezed her hand, then released it, and placed his hands on top of the table.
He’d become much more comfortable around her with his high-tech arm. They showered together with the prosthetic off. He slept without it. It wasn’t a big deal. In fact, she seldom thought about it as anything different. His arm was just…Zander.
The make-up artist stepped over and dabbed her make-up brush over Zander’s face, then Effie’s.
She took a deep breath and readied herself to be interviewed on live television.
Julie sat up even taller if that was possible. She stared into the camera.
The cameraman gave her a three, two, one signal. The red lights of the camera flashed on.
“We’re here today with Zander King and Effie D’Archangel to clear things up following the scandal that ensued earlier this year about their sugar baby, sugar daddy alliance. Zander King has a reputation in rock climbing as the God of the Wall. He’s recently reclaimed his status as world-class climber following his tragic accident from two years ago. And Effie is showing promise as a top-notch climber in the women’s division.” She turned her dazzling smile to Effie and Zander. “Effie, Zander, so nice to have you in our studio today.”
“Thank you,” Zander said, smoothly. “We’re eager to set the record straight.”
Effie nodded, hoping she didn’t look as scared as she felt.
“So, tell us about the sugar baby alliance. Is it as scandalous as it was made out to be? You two certainly received a lot of press for something I’m sure countless others have done.” Julie flashed a reassuring smile.
“Billionaires have made similar arrangements since money was conceived,” Zander said. “It’s all on the up and up. There are contracts and rules to the game.”
“But you broke the rules, didn’t you?” Julie said.
“The lines were blurred, yes.” Zander sighed. “I knew from the second I met her she had my heart.” He shot a panty-melting smile at Effie.
She placed her palm over his hand and squeezed it.
“And, I want to be very clear.” Zander faced the camera. The muscles in his jaw and neck tensed. “I was not paying Effie to have sex with me. She wasn’t my prostitute. What we did was consensual. I would have helped her out, contract or no contract. Intelligent people with valuable things to contribute to the global economy, to scientific endeavors, to technology and so on, shouldn’t be held back because of lack of funds. Effie’s smart. She’s one of those women who will do good things on the planet, I’m sure of it. So, we had an unconventional start…” He shrugged. “I guess that was God’s way of saying, you two need to be together.” He laced his fingers with Effie’s.
Effie beamed at him. They’d rehearsed the God part. Neither one of them was particularly religious, but their lawyer had advised mentioning God as part of the interview.
He said it would “boost the validity” of their assertions, not that it needed any boosting. Everyone they knew said it was obvious how much in love they were.
“And, for the record, Effie is not my sugar baby. The contract ended. But, to be honest, I never thought of her that way. It was confusing to be with this amazing woman and have a ridiculous contract between us.” He shook his head.
Julie made a noise of commiseration and turned to Effie. “What about you, Ms. D’Archangel? You got kicked out of school. Is there education in your future?” Her white teeth seemed to sparkle in the studio lights.
“Oh, that was a dark time,” Effie said, remembering the shock and sting of being expelled. “But we managed to convince PIM…” Along with a generous donation. She swallowed. “We managed to convince Pacific Institute of Medicine to let me finish the few courses I needed to graduate with a degree in Bio-Physiology. I’ll be finishing up in the spring.”
“And, Zander’s business has a foundation for the development of technologically-smart limbs for soldiers. I’ve asked to be in charge of that program. I’ll work with scientists and technical engineers to get the best product at a price that’s affordable. We’ll also solicit grants to offset the costs. That will take up a lot of my free time. But, yes, I’ll be pursuing post-graduate work. I haven’t decided on the college yet.”
Julie nodded, a polished, practiced smile on her face. She leaned in conspiratorially. “And what about your rock climbing? I hear you’re a force to be reckoned with. The God of the Wall now has a Goddess by his side.”
Effie looked to Zander, the way they’d rehearsed, mentally handing the reins to him.
“We’re going to train to climb Nanga Parbat, the world’s ninth highest peak, and the third most difficult climb. It ranks right up there with K2. It’s called the Man Eater. But we’ll train, study with experts, and do it right. After that…” He looked at Effie, his eyes glittering with desire. “We’ll see which way the wind blows us.”
Pleasure filled every cell in her body. Sometime in the future, a certain question would be asked and answered. She’d come across a jeweler’s catalog in his office when she’d stopped by, and he had stepped away from his desk. An elegant diamond engagement ring had been circled several times. She’d scurried back out to the lobby so he wouldn’t know that she saw it. But, she hoped he’d pop the question at the top of Nanga Parbat or somewhere epic.
“Yes,” she said. “We plan on traveling through Europe, spending some time in Zander’s New York apartment, and then, returning to Seattle to make the Smart-Limb program a success.”
“My, you two have quite ambitious plans.” Julie beamed at them both. She went on to ask them a few more questions, though they were casual and optimistic.
As their time came to an end, she said, “Is there anything you’d like to add? Anything we haven’t discussed?”
“Yes, I have a couple of things to add.” Effie sat up taller.
Zander’s eyebrows rose in a question. This hadn’t been rehearsed.
“Go ahead,” Julie said.
“It’s ridiculous the fuss people make over sex. Although we found each other through unconventional means, we connected, deeply, madly, truly. When the tabloids picked up the story, I was turned into a demon, a whore, a slut, a prostitute…when I’m nothing of the sort. And Zander, who’d been victimized by an obsessive women, was cast in lies as a philanderer.” Her heart still blazed with injustice when she thought of all the attacks on her and Zander’s reputations, not to mention their lives. “But, come on…none of us would be here were sex not part of the equation.” She aimed a fierce glare at the camera.
“Yes, there are many inequalities on this planet, and sex, sadly, and the parts each gender plays, is one of them,” Julie said, smoothly. Then, she perked up, saying, “That’s all we have time for. Thank you so much for taking the time to be here today.”
The producer said, “That’s a wrap.”
The lights went off, and Julie let go of her perfect face.
“Good job, you two. Great interview. I hope gets the results you hoped for. And, for those who insist on clinging to any scandal, well…” Her elegant shoulder rose and fell in a shrug.
“They can say whatever they like,” Zander said, putting his arm around Effie. “My only regret was not telling her how I felt about her sooner.”
“You two are sweet together. I wish you the best,” Julie said, her face losing some its perfection.
“Thank you,” Effie said, and she meant it.
They said their goodbyes and headed out to the street, where Antonio waited.
On the way home, sitting inside the limo, Effie’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “Oh, dear. It’s my mother.”
She’d ignored her mom’s frequent calls for weeks now. The one time she answered they’d argued about Effie’s life choices, including “that billionaire.” Effie had hung up.
“Maybe you should get it over with. You were right about your mother’s persistence. I’m sick of her calls and your face when you check the caller ID. Resistance is futile, as you Trekkie’s say.” He smirked at her.
As much as she would have liked to procrastinate forever, he was right.
“Okay. Here goes.” She slid the connect icon and prepared for what had to be an unpleasant conversation.