A Silken Thread - Brenda Jackson [20]
“You’re the face of Maybelline now and that’s a lot of exposure, April.”
She knew that was true. The cosmetic giant took out ads in most major magazines and it seemed her face was plastered in all of them.
“James Cameron called me just last week asking about you.”
She could tell by the excitement in Neil’s voice that he was hoping the inquiry was going someplace. Deep down she was hoping that it didn’t. “I don’t mind doing films on occasion, Neil, but my primary focus is elsewhere. I want to open a modeling school here in New York. I need to find a vacant building or warehouse and transform the space.”
“If you want to open a school, then do it later when you’re my age. But you’re still young, April. Too young not to continue to take advantage of your beauty.”
She took a sip of her wine. “I don’t see things that way, Neil and—”
“Excuse me. Hello, April.”
The deep sexy voice compelled April to look up. At that moment her eyes connected with Griffin’s. The moment they did, sensations she could only feel when she was around him flooded her insides.
“Griffin,” she said with the surprise in her voice that she couldn’t hide. She hadn’t seen the man for years and now she’d seen him twice in a four-week period. How uncanny was that? “What are you doing in New York?”
“I thought this would be the perfect weekend to get away and I picked New York because I have friends here.”
That was when April finally noticed the woman plastered to his side, who was giving her a cool look. April ignored the woman, since Griffin hadn’t bothered to introduce her, but then she realized she hadn’t bothered to introduce Neil, either. “This is Neil. A friend,” she said simply, deciding not to reveal that Neil was her agent, as well.
Neil stood and the two men shook hands.
“And this is Paulina. Paulina, April is a friend from Hattersville.”
A friend? For some reason April had merely considered Griffin and herself as acquaintances rather than friends, April thought, extending her hand out to the woman. The woman barely touched it before leaning even closer to Griffin and whispering loud enough for all to hear, “I think we should find our table. I’m famished, sweetheart, and it’s all your fault.”
Something flickered inside of April. In an underhanded, strictly bitchy sort of way, Paulina had deliberately given April the impression the reason for her hunger was because she had spent long hours in bed with Griffin and was now in desperate need of something to eat. April was tempted to tell the woman to pull in her claws, since she was out of Griffin’s league. Always had been and always would be.
“I’m surprised you’re not in Hattersville this weekend,” Griffin said, reclaiming her attention.
April figured since Erica was her best friend he’d assumed she would be at Erica and Brian’s engagement party. “I figured that I would play the good girl and not give Mrs. Sanders another gray hair,” she said honestly, knowing he would get her drift.
The twinkle in his eyes indicated that he did. “And I figured I wouldn’t attend just to make sure my presence didn’t give her the wrong impression.”
Paulina eyed her, evidently annoyed at the fact she had no idea what they were discussing.
“They won’t hold our table much longer, Griff,” the woman said in an annoyed voice.
Griff? April lifted a brow. She recalled Griffin never liked that nickname back in the day and from the look in his eyes she could tell he still didn’t. This woman might be his flavor for the hour—or the past hours—but little did she know she was skating on thin ice by using that nickname.
“I’ll let you two get back to your meal and we can grab our table,” Griffin said