That went great until Warren decided to showboat by spiking a thundering shot right into Alexis’s face. I ran up and she was sitting on her butt, crying, with blood gushing out of her nose. The makeup gal ran up with a towel. Tara came running over. She had a tampon that she opened, tore in half, and offered to Alexis.
“Here, put this in, it’ll stop the bleeding. I’ve had that happen several times. You’ll be okay,” she reassured her.
Warren looked smug.
“You’re a frickin’ idiot! What part of ‘don’t spike’ did you not understand?!” I yelled at him as I stood up.
“Screw you,” he said as he took a big swing at me.
I remembered what Cassidy had taught me: if you were going to get hit in the face, tuck your chin and let them hit your forehead. If I hadn’t ducked, he would have hit me in the nose. I heard the bone in his hand break when he hit my forehead. It’s the hardest part of your head, and it’s like punching a brick wall. I felt it, to be sure, but getting hit on the nose hurts a lot more.
“Shit!” Warren yelled as he shook his hand.
Cassidy taught self-defense from a girl’s perspective: the simplest move, with the most impact. So my follow-up move was to punt him into next week. That actually hurt the top of my foot, so I knew it had to have just about killed him. I’d gotten full leg extension and follow-through, and lifted him six inches off the sand. You could hear the breath leave Warren’s lungs as he collapsed, as he forgot about his broken hand.
He was curled up in a ball and made gasping sounds like he was a fish out of water. I was worried when Sandy came up to me. She looked determined. Devin had told me not to hurt anyone else on a shoot. Instead of firing me, she gave me a high five.
“Thanks. He deserved everything he got. Let’s go ice your forehead, and get you ready.”
Clare came over to Trish.
“I just called the office. They can have replacements here for Warren and Alexis in about two hours.”
“Dang it, that’s going to mess up our schedule. We might have to extend the shoot an extra day,” Trish said.
“Why not do what we did in England: have some amateur help step in?” Kendal suggested. “David’s friend Tara is a real-life volleyball player, and I’ve been checking out some of the guys. There might not be a great-looking guy, but some have nice bodies.”
Sandy smirked.
“Yeah, I’m not thinking I want to get into a bikini that small. I don’t have the butt for that.”
I waggled my eyebrows at her and she hit me.
“Hey, I think your butt is plenty cute,” I offered.
“Okay, you get a raise,” she teased me back.
Clare asked for volunteers. Tara and three other girls said they would do it, and two guys wanted a shot. Clare sent them all to wardrobe. When they came back, she accepted one of the guys, plus Tara and another girl. She had them sign one-day contracts, and we were back playing volleyball.
Before I knew it, we had a real game going. The other girl replaced Adriana. The three subs all played the game. I kept up, with my athletic ability, but I was the weak link. I had no idea where the time went, but Trish called a stop. We were all covered in sand and sweating up a storm. Sandy brought us all bottles of Gatorade. I needed that.
They canceled the kayaking because we ran over. Sandy and Trish felt it was worth it. The shots looked realistic, and we came across as having a great time.
THEY RUSHED ME TO CHANGE and I was taken to the studio. I took a shower there while Trish double-checked the lighting. Kendal had gone to get me lunch because the caterer had brought only rabbit food to the studio. She came back with half a baked chicken and iced tea for me. I grabbed a salad and ate. Everyone joined me.
“That was fast thinking, Kendal. That saved us a lot of money,” Sandy praised her.
“We got some great shots. We’ll probably think about what we’re doing next time and get talent that fits,” Clare offered, trying to cover her butt.
I’m sure Clare was worried about a next time. In England, she had brought in the ‘princesses’ without ever meeting them. At least she was learning. After the time Rose was late, she began to pick up the talent and hand-deliver them. Devin had a contract with me for New Orleans and Park City later this year. I wasn’t sure if he had signed something with Ford for his other talent. I’d have Tyler call him and find out. I was certain Adrienne would make sure the talent was what we needed.
As fast as the morning went, the afternoon seemed to drag. Range Sports had selected five different poses they wanted for each outfit. No variations were allowed. They had me changing on set to save time. I was all for that. By the end, I was exhausted. I dreaded the next two days.
I FOUND THE GIRLS IN my apartment. I told them I needed to work out. I did my level best to kill myself, just as Cassidy would have. I needed to get ready for football. I knew Brad was going to start at quarterback, but I could contribute in other ways. My goal was to play both ways. During our seven-on-seven games, I’d gotten to play defense. I found I really enjoyed it.
When I got back, the girls wanted to dress up and go out. Chuck went back to his hotel to change. Sandy agreed to join us. Kendal and Clare had other plans. Tami had my outfit picked out, so I went and showered and changed. When everyone was ready, we went around the corner to Gary Danko’s restaurant. He apparently was a well-known chef according to Harper.
It was an excellent choice. For an appetizer, I tried their Seared Ahi Tuna with Avocado, Mushrooms and Lemon Soy Dressing. For my main course, I went with Juniper Crusted Bison with King Trumpet Mushrooms, Cipollini Onions and Wild Nettle Spätzle. I couldn’t resist dessert: I split a Lemon Soufflé Cake with Crème Fraiche Panna Cotta and Raspberry Sorbet with Tami. Everyone agreed it was the best meal they’d had in a long time. Harper was right. I would recommend Gary Danko’s restaurant to anyone.
Over dinner, they told me about Cal Berkeley.
“We all really liked it. It’s been referred to as a ‘public ivy’ school because of its reputation and look and feel. It has about 35,000 students and a solid business program,” Missy said, filling me in.
“Their coaching staff is begging for you to make a visit your junior year. Based on what I saw, this is my top choice, with Stanford a close second. I also wouldn’t object to USC,” Tami told me.
“I would be happy at any of the three,” Harper told us.
It sounded like the girls were thinking about going to college together.
WHEN WE GOT BACK, THE girls went to change. I went into my bedroom and Harper soon followed.
“Just take your clothes off. I have plans for you tonight,” she ordered.
Her plan was another marathon session. I have no idea if Tami and Missy came upstairs. After our third round, I slowed her down.
“I have to ask, but you don’t have to answer. Was Ray brain-damaged? Why would he ever give you up?”
She giggled.
“To tell you the truth, he and I never went at it like we do. He didn’t have the stamina, so I just took it slow and gentle with him. With you, it’s much more physical. You make me want to do stuff I used to fantasize about, and I can’t seem to get enough. I’m afraid if you were around too much, I’d waste away because I’d never get out of bed.”
Tell me that wouldn’t make your ego feel good. I now wanted to see if we could reach our limits. We did, around 2:30 in the morning. Mr. Happy died and there was nothing Harper could do to revive him. I hated to admit it, but she won that round. She proudly told the other girls the next morning.
Thursday May 22