Callie Endicott

A Father For The Twins


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the large screen, Adam smelled the faint aroma of roses. It reminded him of the time he’d done a commercial for an international florist company in Paris, having to hold an extra large bouquet under the Eiffel Tower for hours, waiting for his “girlfriend.”

      He made an effort to clear his head, annoyed that he would associate a romantic image with the guardian of his newest clients.

      * * *

      CASSIE TRIED NOT to be aware of Adam as he clicked through pictures of her niece and nephew. They were the ones taken the first day they’d come to the agency, but cropped to look like the kind of photos she’d seen in magazines. As far as she could tell, nothing had been airbrushed or photoshopped and both Glen and Tiffany were portrayed as wholesome, healthy young teens.

      “Satisfied?” he asked finally.

      “Yes. It’s reassuring to see how they’ll be presented.”

      “We don’t want to promote anyone in a way that makes them uncomfortable and that goes double for kids.”

      “Did you start modeling as a youngster?”

      “Nope. I was a junior at UCLA and saw an ad for models, so I gave it a shot. I needed the money. My mom had just gone through major surgery and I wanted to do something to help out.”

      It was hard for Cassie to picture the sophisticated Adam Wilding as an anxious college student who’d fallen into modeling by accident. Still, it was an engaging image.

      “Is your mother all right now?”

      His expression seemed guarded. “She’s fine. In fact, my parents just arrived from New Mexico for a surprise visit.”

      At a guess, there was some tension in the relationship with his folks.

      “That’s nice. They must be proud of your success.”

      “Actually, they wanted me to be a lawyer, so it’s complicated.”

      Cassie cast another quick, sideways glance at Adam. “I can’t picture you in a three-piece suit, arguing a case in front of a judge.”

      “Me, either,” he admitted. “It’s hard on kids when grown-ups try to plan their lives for them.”

      His tone had grown even more intense and Cassie suspected that heavy pressure had been put on him to take a particular route. She couldn’t recall whether her own parents had encouraged specific career aspirations in their children beyond wanting them to attend college.

      “Instead you happened into modeling and the rest is history,” she said to lighten the mood.

      Adam’s expression changed from intense to cool detachment. “I got lucky. The photographer on that first job sent my picture around to various advertisers he worked with. Before I knew it, I was in demand. But it usually doesn’t happen that way. Albeit part of this business is luck and timing.”

      “I understand. I’ve told the kids not to think they’ll suddenly become rich and famous. Glen doesn’t care, but Tiffany has stars in her eyes.”

      “It’s good that you want to keep her grounded. The people who hire models seem to prefer them that way. Just don’t try coaching the kids. Let them be natural.”

      “Of course. I don’t want this changing Tiff and Glen.”

      “You mentioned taking responsibility once your sister was unable to care for them?”

      That was a charitable way of describing Marie’s condition. She hadn’t even been sober for her meeting with the judge, and had refused an alcohol abuse treatment program as a chance of retaining custody.

      Cassie cleared her throat. Sometimes she was so furious with her sister, she could hardly stand it. Raising Tiff and Glen was a privilege, but Marie had thrown it away. They had their share of problems, but they were great kids, even after everything their mother had put them through. “Yes. I didn’t want them in foster care.”

      “Your parents couldn’t take them? I’m only asking because I’d like to know if a change in custody arrangements might occur.”

      “It won’t. My dad has health issues and my brother’s work doesn’t lend itself to parenting. Please don’t bring this up with Tiff and Glen. They’ve dealt with enough,” Cassie added quickly. “I’d hate for them to get the idea they’re unwanted.”

      “Of course.” Adam’s expression was hard to read. “Getting back to practicalities, I’ll try to drop in on the first booking to see how things are going.”

      “Is that usual?”

      “Every agent is different, but at Moonlight Ventures we want to pass on what we’ve learned and help our clients to be professional. That way they’re more in demand and we all do better. Of course, we’re still working out the best way to accomplish that.”

      Cassie cocked her head. “So you’re practicing on your clients?”

      “True. Does that bother you?”

      “No. I told you that I’ve done some checking and Moonlight Ventures is earning a good reputation.”

      “That’s good to know.” Adam opened the envelopes and glanced through the contents. “What led you here? There are other excellent talent agencies in Seattle and we’d like to know what makes people choose us. By the way, it’s all right to say that we were simply the first one that responded.”

      “Tiffany was researching talent representatives on the internet and was excited when she saw you and Nicole George were involved with Moonlight Ventures. Basically, this is the first place we tried. Now she follows you both on Facebook and Twitter.”

      He nodded. “Social media is one of our tools. We’ll need to discuss the best, safest way for her and Glen to utilize it themselves.”

      There was a knock at the door and Nicole George came into the office. She smiled at Cassie. “Hi. You must be the aunt of our two newest clients. Adam thought that since I did teen modeling, it might be helpful if I came by to answer any questions.”

      “Thank you,” Cassie said, feeling out of place to be sandwiched between two such glamorous individuals.

      * * *

      ELIZABETH WILDING FELT almost desperate as she looked at her husband. They’d had a pleasant drive north, but the closer they had gotten to Seattle, the more uncommunicative Dermott had become. Her hope of repairing the bond with Adam couldn’t happen if either of them refused to really talk.

      Good heavens, Dermott was stubborn. Adam took after his father that way, though he was like her in others. Or at least he used to be. Because of everything that had happened through the years, she couldn’t honestly say she knew her son any longer. Surely the world of fashion and appearance wouldn’t have changed him too much?

      “This is such a pleasant building, don’t you think?” she asked her husband.

      “A whole lot of flash and dash if you ask me. It’s good they didn’t tear it down, but the place is nothing but an old factory dressed up to look fancy.”

      Small steps, she reminded herself. It wasn’t going to happen quickly. Standing, she went to get a bottle of water from the small refrigerator with a glass door.

      The teenager who’d come into the room seemed polite. He’d explained he was waiting for his aunt and hoped they didn’t mind him being there. He was a handsome youngster and Elizabeth had wondered if he was a model.

      Since Dermott had determinedly buried himself in another newspaper, she decided to get acquainted with the boy.

      “I’m Elizabeth Wilding,” she said, moving to the table where he was sitting.

      “I’m Glen Bryant. Uh, Aunt Cassie is meeting with a guy named Wilding.”

      “Adam is my son. Are you a model?”

      Glen