Before the jeans ad, he’d landed a few squeaky-clean catalog shoots. He’d stood under hot lights in a striped polo and khakis, holding a brand-new football and smiling until his face hurt.
The jeans ad had been a bigger deal, part of a national campaign. They’d auditioned a slew of guys and eventually chosen a Swedish exchange student who’d been splashed all over Times Square billboards looking like he had a giant herring behind his denim fly.
HotnSaucey.com had nerve offering a full-length version of the brief audition as additional content. Didn’t exist. The featured clip was all there was, just over a minute, probably. But when Branden had purchased the entire video for sale, he’d discovered an erotic sex scene with two figures in a darkened room, their features blurry. The fact that the man bore a faint resemblance to him and the blonde bore a faint resemblance to Cara wouldn’t stand up to detailed scrutiny, but it could be enough to prolong any speculation that it was the two of them having sex.
Whether the dredged-up post was linked in any way to the Deets headline was impossible to say. Neither seemed worth an all-out investigative effort…but for Cara. He got the feeling she was a deeply private person who had been through some tough times. There was nothing in her personnel file, which was all he had to go on for the moment, to give him a clue as to her past.
Branden got up and moved around the coffee table to the high windows that comprised an entire wall, taking in the panoramic view of lower Manhattan, enjoying the display, which changed by the hour. Night had fallen, brightened by patterns of man-made light on the newer skyscrapers and a few of the older buildings. Some were not illuminated at all, black shapes in the overall darkness outside. He went outside, resting his hands on the railing of the wraparound terrace.
Cara’s place was only two buildings down, but even from this lofty height, he couldn’t see more than a sliver of it. Just knowing she was nearby made him want her all over again. Here, with him. High above the city and the never-ending hustle of the Street, lost in each other’s arms and the enfolding night. He wanted her in his bed most of all.
He normally didn’t worry or care about the press. They were hungry little vultures that would be picking bones long after he was gone. But he’d seen how upset Cara was over the photo, and now there was a video to contend with. It was one they both knew never happened, but he had a feeling if she’d seen it, she would be beside herself.
Branden looked at the time—it was almost nine p.m. He was worried about Cara, and he wondered if he should risk going by her place and checking on her. Since he didn’t know who was lurking around taking photos and splicing together videos, it was probably a bad idea.
He really didn’t want to alert her to the video if she didn’t know about it. But if she did know, he didn’t want her to spend a sleepless night worrying about it, either.
He decided to call, and if she didn’t seem to know about the video, he would ask her something about one of the reports she’d given him. He looked at the copy of the video he had saved one more time, then went to his bookshelf, took out an album one of his stepsisters—probably Rachel, she was always playing Suzy Homemaker—had put together for him years ago, and sat down on the couch, placing the album next to his laptop on the little table in front of him. He linked to the network that took him directly into the computer systems of all of the companies he owned and then into HR at Dubois & Mellan. Pulling up Cara’s mobile number, he entered it into his phone and hit send.
Three rings and then a tentative, “Hello?”
“Cara, it’s Branden.”
Silence.
Of course. She was surprised he’d call her at home. But had she—
“So you’ve seen it?” she asked, her voice shaky.
That answered the question. “I was hoping you hadn’t.”
“I have. Part of it anyway. The part that was a free download. My friend Iris found it and she… and I…”
“You’re concerned that people will think it’s you.”
“Yes. Is that crazy?”
“No. I’m going to send you a snapshot. Tell me what you notice about it.” He snapped a picture of a photo from the