Chapter 29
"Femme Fatale,” Tiffany said. “We’re starting a line of perfume.
It's amazing how many companies want to partner with you when you’ve got media attention, good or bad.
The perfume is going to be in every major department store across the country.
If it's a hit, I stand to gain a considerable sum.
From there, we can expand into cosmetics, clothing, and shoes.
Who knows? The sky's the limit." She paused.
"Strange times indeed, but a tragedy like this can launch a career.
It seems everyone's got a morbid fascination. "
“It seems.”
"Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads up so you didn't get the wrong impression. I know it's a little odd and daring, given the current situation. But I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
"Well, I appreciate the heads up. You’ll be happy to know you're pretty low on the totem pole as far as suspects go.”
"That does make me happy. You see, deputy, I'm really not such a bad person after all.”
Tiffany said she'd be in touch before ending the call, then sent the details of the photo shoot a moment later. I figured we’d check it out. What the hell? All part of the investigation, of course.
After I ate, I went back to the Avventura to see what kind of trouble JD and Flynn had gotten themselves into while I was gone. Those two unsupervised could lead to trouble.
To my surprise, the boat was still afloat. The duo lounged on the sky deck, soaking up the sun, kicking around ideas for the movie, sipping strawberry daiquiris.
“How’d it go?” JD asked.
“I take it you haven’t been watching the news,” I said.
He and Flynn exchanged dumb looks.
I filled them in on the attempted robbery.
“No shit?” Flynn said. “Glad you’re okay.”
I left out the details about Kendra being Mickey’s daughter.
“So did you get a rain check with Reckless?” JD asked.
“Not really.”
“Losing your touch,” he teased.
"It’s complicated,” I said, then changed the subject. “I talked to Tiffany." I proceeded to tell him about the photo shoot and her perfume line.
"That girl doesn't waste any time, does she?" Jack said. "I can't say I blame her for taking the opportunity. Everybody's gotta put food on the table.”
"I think she's got enough to cover basic living expenses. She's just not going to inherit a billion dollars.”
"I say we go check it out," Flynn said. "I wouldn't mind seeing more of her."
"Trust me, you don't want to go there, Flynn. You might end up stabbed to death in your bed."
The movie star grinned and dismissed the notion. "What a way to go.”
Flynn and JD pulled themselves together, then we headed across the island to the photo studio in the afternoon. JD and I were both photography buffs and had done our fair share of photo shoots and music videos. It was always nice to get to a real studio and see how somebody else worked.
I texted Tiffany to let her know we were coming.
We pulled up to the nondescript building in the warehouse district. It was just around the corner from the practice studio. The sound of a snare drum bounced off brick walls, echoing through the streets.
The studio didn't look like much from the outside. We had taken the Revenant. It was big enough to fit the three of us. The massive EV looked like something Batman would drive, with its gunmetal-gray exterior and fat knobby tires. It could handle just about every type of terrain, or no terrain at all. Fully sealed, the vehicle was waterproof. With jet propulsion, you could cruise around the ocean with this thing. I’m not quite sure how far you could get, but it would get you around the island, at least.
I never asked how much Jack paid for it, and I didn't want to know. From the factory, it had bullet-resistant glass and armored door panels. It was the perfect apocalyptic vehicle. The way things were going, it became more and more relevant. The island grew more and more apocalyptic every day.
We hopped out of the vehicle, climbed up to the loading dock, then shuffled to the main entrance. Camera flashes spilled through the warehouse windows that had been completely refurbished. I pulled the door open, and we slipped inside, making our way across the cavernous space.
The photographer snapped photos of Tiffany against a dove gray background.
An assistant stood ready to change out camera lenses.
The makeup artist waited in the wings to touch up Tiffany's hair and makeup.
Another assistant held a fan that blew her luxurious locks.
An art director from the magazine stood behind the photographer with his hand on his chin, surveying every minute detail.
Tiffany wore nothing at all and covered her lady bits with strategic placement of her hands. It was all fashionable and tasteful. Not lewd or pornographic. This could be considered art.
Tiffany had a body that was sculpted to perfection. Smooth, toned legs, a flat midriff, buoyant all-natural endowments, and more curves than the Monaco Grand Prix. She was easy to look at.
The camera loved her, and Tiffany changed poses with each click. Studio strobes flashed.
"Magnificent!" the photographer shouted in a slight French accent.
Click.
"Fabulous."
Flash.
"Love it!"
Click.
I think Tiffany just wanted us here so we could see her naked.
After the photographer snapped about 30 shots, he said. "That's a wrap."
He handed the camera to his assistant, and another assistant rushed to give Tiffany a robe.
The art director looked a little surprised. "That's it?”
"I have captured the shot,” he said in a lofty tone. “I cannot improve upon perfection."
He strutted away and didn't give the art director any chance for a rebuttal. To say the guy had a little bit of an ego would be an understatement. Then again, maybe he was just that good. We’d know when the magazine came out.
Tiffany rushed to greet us with a beaming smile. “I’m so glad you could come. I had no idea it would be over this quickly.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re hard to photograph,” Flynn said with that trademark grin of his.
Tiffany pretended to blush and bat her eyelashes at him. “You know all the right things to say.”
“It’s just the truth.”
Tiffany blushed again. She was good at this kind of thing. “They tell me this is going to be the cover. Isn’t that exciting?”
“It is,“ I replied.
“Most of the time when I’m in a magazine, it’s about some scandal. This will be a refreshing change of pace.”
She was lying to herself if she thought the exposé wouldn’t be scandalous. She was purposely courting controversy.
“I’d love to hear more about this line of perfume,” I said.
“Honestly, it happened so fast. I got a phone call yesterday. The offer sounded good. I had my attorney look it over, and we did the deal. I’m going to work with the fragrance department next week to start developing it.”
"Marketing a product that doesn't even exist yet," Jack said.
Tiffany shrugged. "That's how these things work sometimes.”
It was a quick cash grab based on her sudden popularity.
Tiffany had become the subject of multiple memes swirling around the Internet.
That kind of attention can be priceless.
It doesn't last forever, but more than a few have been able to spin that into a long-term career.
Sometimes, all it takes is getting attention once. The real trick is maintaining it.
The assistant downloaded the images from the flash card. Once they were on the computer, the art director and the photographer huddled around the screen, evaluating the work. We joined them as they flipped through the images.
Tiffany looked stunning. There was no questioning it. Every frame was indeed perfection.
The art director’s concern faded. He patted the photographer on the shoulder.
"There's a reason you hired me.”
With agreement, the art director said, "Indeed."
I got that sneaking suspicion that Tiffany's perfume might actually do well—even though nobody had smelled it yet.
Flynn’s phone buzzed his pocket. He pulled out the device, swiped the screen, and took the call. “Mickey! How the hell are you?”
Mickey’s voice filtered through the phone.
Flynn listened intently. “Wait. Slow down? What’s wrong?”