Headshots

Part 1

"Archer, honey, meet me outside the apartment in five. And wear something expensive, I'm having brunch with Jameson Iles on his yacht this morning and I want him to know exactly what he's missing."

Zeta Winters padded barefoot through the white modern kitchen of her downtown Miami apartment, an iPhone in one hand, a pair of nude Christian Louboutin's pumps in the other. Her voluminous ink black hair was blown out just the way she liked it, and her Versace shift dress fell gently over her thighs.

"Ah, I get to play your lover this time? I'm honored Candy." Her chauffeur's husky voice tickled her ear as she collapsed on the sectional. On the other line was the only man she ever trusted. Archer Northman was the only constant in her scrambled yet successful life, his occurrence a mere coincidence when they crossed paths five years ago.


 "I've gotta throw you a bone every once in a while. How else am I supposed to keep you wrapped around my finger?"

"Well Candy, you know it doesn't take much. For one, you pay me a hell of a lot to drive you around, keep you company, and run errands. Its like landing a job at Willy Wonka's. Not to mention I get to live right across the hall from a bombshell like you. I'm tellin' you darling, life's good around your finger."

She giggled, "Alright enough bantering, you'll get your chance. Now hurry downstairs, I better not be waiting on you."

"Never Darling..." Archer let her hang up first, and she slipped the phone into her gucci clutch. Red Bottoms on, she sauntered into the foyer and grabbed her favorite Prada sunglasses and walked through the double doors of apartment 529.

With every tiled opportunity, her LV's clipped down the hallway and into the elevator where she pushed the button marked LOBBY.

Heading down, she fixed her hair and checked her makeup in the reflection of the steel panel. She fiddled with the silver streak at her temple until it's position satisfied her. She'd grown fond of her mallen streak, loved the exotic and unique look it gave her.

She felt a buzz at her hip and instinctively pulled her phone out once again.

"I'm busy Garret. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

She heard some shuffling, like her accountant just dropped his phone.

"Well Zeta I don't know how long you expect to prolong this audit. The IRS is giving me a hell of a lot of trouble."

She groaned. She forgot about that damn audit. "If you were doing your damn job we wouldn't be worrying about this. Get with my Lawyer, Donovan, and arrange a meeting tomorrow. We'll hand over whatever the hell they need. We follow the rules. There's no reason for them to be suspicious."

"And you're right, but our particular business tends to walk the thin line between legal and illegal. Of course the IRS is going to be suspicious of the largest, most successful operating escort service in the country. In fact I think you should be proud of yourself."

Zeta batted her long, dark lashes. "Don't worry, I am."

She ended the call, and watched as the countdown reached her destination, and the metal doors parted to reveal the elaborate lobby of the Regal Carter building.

The massive wooden centerpiece demanded attention as she stepped out onto the the glossy marble flooring. The ceiling towered above her head, a gorgeous modern chandelier hanging from it.

Only the well-off could afford to stay at the Regal Carter. The very well-off. And Zeta earned her right to be one of them. She rented one of the twelve penthouse apartments on the upper floors, and thanks to her, so did her driver, Archer.

Speak of the devil.

"Stunning as always Candy." Archer's warm voice carried through the lobby, directing her attention to the entrance of the building.

She sent him a half smile, "You don't look too bad yourself there Mr. Northman."

"You know I hate it when you call me that," he groaned as she brushed past him towards the oversized double doors. He followed on her heels, beating her to the door and holding it open.

"Oh I know." she teased. "In fact, call Jameson. Tell him I have to cancel. I've got errands to run that I've shamefully been neglecting."

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Authors Note:

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