The Preacher's Daughter (8 page)

"Yeah," he said, and looked at her thoughtfully, as if something were dawning on him.

"What?" she asked, after several minutes of his prolonged scrutiny.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "You'd probably say no anyway."

"Try me," she said. "You saved me from that Chinese bike guy. I kind of owe you."

He laughed. "Well, I know you said you didn't take acting in high school or college, but I was kind of wondering if you'd ever consider stage work. I mean, you are so darn pretty. So fresh-faced pretty. If I referred you it could be good for both of us financially."

"You mean I could make money?" Naomi's eyes had widened in disbelief. She'd all but given up any notion of making it, and this handsome stranger now thought she had a shot at a job.

"Good money," he said.

Naomi remembered feeling a sudden uneasiness. Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. People just didn't give job offers to down-and-out strangers they met on the street.

But Jasper seemed so nice. He wasn't some leering old man in a trench coat. He was a young person, a contemporary.

"What do you say?" he asked. "Will you at least talk to my boss if I set it up?"

"Sure, OK," she said.

"Where are you staying?"

Naomi had looked down. "The underpass," she said. "The shelter's been full the last two nights."

"Well that won't do," he said and reached into his pocket and took out a card. "Here's the address for a motel over on Vine Street. It's not fancy, but it's clean and has a shower and free cable. I'll call the owner and tell him I'm sending you over."

Naomi took the card, not knowing what to say.

"You can pay me back after I get you work," he said standing.

Naomi looked up at him. "Thank you so much," she said. "When do you want me to meet with your boss?"

"Let me show him your picture and make sure you're what he has in mind. If you are then I'll come over in the morning and let you know what time you're meeting." He pulled out his camera phone. "Smile."

Naomi had put her hands in front of her face. "No!" she said. "I look horrible!"

He rolled his eyes. "I could roll you in mud and you'd still look beautiful," he said. "Smile."

Naomi managed a smile and then blinked against the bright flash of the phone.

After Jasper left she sat there nervously chewing her nails as she thought about what all this meant. She wanted to believe he was on the up and up. She had to believe it. But what if the guy he wanted her to meet wasn't in theatre. What if he was a pimp who drugged and raped her as soon as she stepped in his office.

"Honey, you want anything else?" The waitress interrupted her thoughts.

"No. No thanks." Naomi stood, clutching the business card and rising from her chair. It was getting late, and she kept her head down as she walked quickly to the hotel on Vine Street. Her doubt grew with each step. Something had to be wrong. When she got there the desk clerk would probably look at her like she was crazy. That's when she'd find out this had all been some kind of sick practical joke.

But the Indian clerk just nodded when she told him who she was and handed her a key to Room 17. Just as Jasper had promised, it was clean with a working shower and cable TV. After her shower Naomi used the remaining shampoo sample to wash her clothes in the bathtub. She hung them up to dry on the shower curtain rod and then - clad in a faded Misfits t-shirt and her last clean pair of underwear she collapsed on the bed and flipped through the channels until she came to a marathon of Spongebob reruns.

It was the perfect viewing choice for someone who didn't want to concentrate on a plot, and Naomi's mind was racing so fast that it was hard to even keep up with the antics of the animated sea sponge and his starfish sidekick. Would Jasper really call in the morning? Would his boss really want to see her based on grainy cell phone snap? If he did, what would he want her to do?

She fell asleep with those questions swirling in her mind; it had been days since she'd slept on a real mattress and was in such a deep slumber that she nearly didn't hear the phone ring at 9 a.m. It was the desk clerk - a woman this time - reminding her that breakfast was included in her room price and the dining room was only open for early diners until ten.

Naomi's stomach was growling in spite of her big dinner so she hastily dressed and went downstairs to enjoy a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. She was surprised to see Jasper come in just as she finished.

"Good morning," he said. "Sleep well?"

"Never better," she said.

"Good," he replied, flopping down in the chair across from her. He was dressed in the same casual style and wore the same casual grin. "Because you've got a busy day ahead of you. My boss wants to meet you."

"He does?"

"Yes," Jasper said. "But we have one little problem."

Her face fell. "What?"

"Your clothes. He expects a certain level of professionalism. Do you have a really nice dress?"

Naomi's face flushed red. "No. I had a skirt and a top in my bag but someone in the shelter stole it."

"Hmm. Let me think." Jasper said. "Look, I don't have much dough on me but I've got enough to take you to the dress shop up the street and get you something for the interview. You can just pay me back later when you pay for the room."

"No," she said. "I can't...."

"Hey," he said. "Don't be stupid. This is a good chance for both of us. One of the first things you need to learn is how to accept help when you need it."

She considered this. "I'm just afraid I won't be able to repay you if I don't get the job."

"You can't think like this," he said. "In my mind you're a sure bet and I don't mind investing in something I believe in." He smiled. "And I believe in you, Naomi."

She smiled. It was nice to hear. No one had told her that before. She'd been told that Jesus believed in her. But she'd never had any human tell her they did.

An hour later she was leaving the corner shop dressed in a pretty yellow sundress with matching pumps. She felt pretty and stylish as she and Jasper took a taxi to a strip mall flanked by two towering palms.

They approached a doorway printed with the words Exelon Enterprises. Jasper held it open as she walked through. The carpet in the foyer was blue, the room ringed by uncomfortable looking straight-backed chairs. The walls were lined with autographed pictures of stars. Some Naomi recognized, some she didn't. Behind a desk by a door leading to the back an over-made brunette looked up from where she sat reading a tabloid.

"Well, hello there, handsome!"

"Hi, Star," he answered. "Is Mr. Edge in?"

"He sure is," she said chirpily. "And he's expecting you." She picked up the phone and spoke into it "Mr. Edge, Jasper's here with your 11 o'clock."

She ushered them back down a hallway lined with more photos of stars. Naomi felt herself growing more nervous by the moment. This man must be important.

At the end of the hall was a door that opened to what must have once been a conference room. Now it as empty save for a few chairs. In one sat a short, squat man with gray hair. He stared intently at Naomi as she entered, his dark eyes sweeping over her like lasers.

"Randy, good to see you." Jasper extended his hand and the gray haired man took it in a strong shake.

"Nice to see you, too." He had an accent. Naomi wasn't sure, but it sounded Russian or Ukrainian, like the accent of the exchange students who visited her father's church in the summer before she entered her sophomore year in high school.

He turned then to shake Naomi's hand as Jasper introduced them. "You're very pretty," he said. "Very delicate features. You act?"

She shook her head. "No," she said.

"No matter." He settled into his chair. "Most actresses who tell me they can really can't. Would you do me a favor. Would you walk to the door and back? I'd like to, uh, see how poised you are."

It didn't seem like an unreasonable request to Naomi, who walked to the door and back.

"You have a good look to you," Randy Edge said. "Very genuine, very fresh. I think you would be wonderful for a number of parts."

"Parts?" she asked, looking at Jasper with a smile. Behind Randy, he gave a thumbs up and smiled back.

"Nothing big to start - commercials, extra work. But with time I could see a face like yours becoming a stand-out. So many girls in this town are flashy, over-made. They want to be the next sexy thing. But you are just sweet and sweet his hard to find."

He smiled a fatherly smile.

"Thank you," she said.

"So if you bring your photo portfolio to me later this week we'll get you set up."

"Photo portfolio?" Naomi had felt her bubble of happiness burst. "I don't have a photo portfolio."

Randy Edge turned to Jasper. "You brought her here without portfolio?" He shook his head.

"She's getting one done this afternoon!" Jasper said.

"I am?" Naomi looked at Jasper like he was crazy.

"Yes, silly. Don't you remember?" He shot her a look that suggested she needed to go along with him.

"Oh, right." She nodded.

"Good," Randy Edge said. "I'd like to see it. I'm busy the rest of this week but Monday would be a good time to meet again."

"We'll be here. Same time?" Jasper asked.

"Just set it up with my girl at the desk," he said.

Jasper had hastened her out. "Are you crazy?" she asked after they were back outside. "I can't afford a photographer."

"It's OK. I'll pay for it. He likes you."

She gasped. "No. You can't," she protested. "What if I don't get the job? I won't be able to.."

He stopped and grabbed her by the arms then and his mouth was on hers before she could say another word.

"You're so pretty," he said. "And so sweet. Mr. Edge said so himself. And there's something about you. Something that makes me think that together..."

She looked at him, at his handsome, deceptively innocent face and fell head over heels in that moment. She wasn't alone. She'd found someone who believed, someone who believed enough to take care of her.

Only later would she find out it had all been a sham. When she went back to Mr. Edge, he announced she wasn't what he wanted after all. Naomi fell apart; the man she loved had spent his last dime on her portfolio and hotel bills and clothing for her. She had to get work and he suggested she start dancing.

She'd been unbelievably nervous. He'd given her a pill to help. And the pill became nightly pills. The tattoos came later as she sought to deal with the pain and guilt of her new life.

The money was good, until it began to disappear in "fees." Jasper moved on to another girl, not that she cared any more. Naomi went from loving to hating him when she learned that the nightclub where she danced, Pinnacle, was owned by Excelon Enterprises.

The entire thing had been a set up from the start.

Jasper had targeted her and pursued her like prey. Now he wanted her back. Hanging up on him wouldn't get him out of her life, no matter how much she wanted to think it would.

Naomi began to cry. Jasper had pretended to care and she'd fallen for it because she'd never been around a man who really did. Now she had that man in her life, but if she was honest with him he'd end the relationship. After all, what good Christian man would want to be with a former stripper?

Naomi got off the bed and sunk down beside it. How many years had she been since she'd gotten on her knees in prayer? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? She'd told herself she'd never pray again. Now she couldn't think of anything else to do.

Chapter Six

"Are you all right, Naomi?" Eric looked up into the driver's mirror of the bus, a concerned look on his face. They were heading with the youth group to a local farm to pick strawberries and Naomi was having a hard time staying awake.

"I'm OK," she said. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Something on your mind keeping you awake?"

"No." Naomi looked out the window. "Just couldn't sleep."

It was a lie, of course, and Naomi knew it would lead to more and more. But the truth of her past would extract too high a price. People who said honesty was the best policy didn't "stripper" on their resumes.

"Well you'd better summon some energy somehow," he said. "Carson's Farm is a big place and picking berries in the heat isn't for the faint of heart."

Naomi tried to muster a laugh but all she could manage was a weak smile. She felt frustrated with herself for losing sleep over Jasper. It was only her second day as Eric's assistant; she wanted to do a good job.

Beth slid from the seat behind Naomi to sit beside her.

"You know you're not supposed to change seats when the bus is moving." Eric glared at the girl.

"Sorry," Beth said. "I won't move again."

Eric glared at her a moment more before turning his attention back to the road. When he did the girl turned to Naomi.

"So I heard Chelsea's dad was over at your place," she said.

Naomi wasn't sure whether she should respond. She was supposed to be an authority figure and instinct told her talking about her personal problems was the wrong move. But at the same time she wanted the kids to like her.

"He kept her out today, Chelsea's dad did," Beth continued. "He said he's not going to let her take part in any youth activities until you repent."

Naomi became angry enough to ignore her instincts. "Hell will freeze over before I stand up before all the hypocrites in that church and apologize," she said quietly. As she spoke she cast a wary eye on Eric, who was now pre-occupied with navigating the dirt road the bus had turned onto.

Beth's eyes widened. "You're not going to do it?"

"No." Naomi's voice was adamant. "It's nothing but a show, Beth. It's all a show."

Beth grew quiet. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Naomi said. "Religion is about control."

"Wow," Beth said. "I've never heard a grownup say that before." She sounded impressed.

"Well, adults should be more honest," said Naomi, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She looked up at Eric, thinking how much easier things would be for her if he were in some other line of work. If he were a mechanic or an accountant or anything else it would be easier for him to overlook her past. But the only reason he was with her was because he thought she'd done nothing more than pan-handle.