Glitch, page 9
And putting their spin on current events, the tabloid claimed Howard might have pretended to be a photographer and lured the girl away on the pretense of giving her a job.
Remembering how scruffy that Howard guy was, Ike knew he couldn't lure flies from a horse's ass.
"These people are full of shit," Ike murmured since he realized the clown that slapped together this clickbait didn't care about models. Instead, they're trying to get eyeballs to look at their BS tabloid site. And what confirms this for Ike is at the bottom of the article. This shill of a journalist claimed Sandra's personal website, Lovely-Sandra.Net, was likely the cause of her kidnapping.
Ike thought that was way over the top. Indeed, he was so incensed that he was about to click off the entire tabloid page. But then he looked down at the hyperlink to Sandra's website. Curious about what kind of site the girl had, Ike clicked it.
As the computer jumped over to the website, Ike found it surprising that the girl had one. But then he figured its okay since most people in show business do, and he's using that term loosely in Sandra's case.
He also thought the idiot who wrote that article needed to get his head checked. Just because a girl wants to break into the fashion racket doesn't mean she deserves to get kidnapped.
Finally arriving at the girl's website, Ike sees an oval-shaped picture of a smiling Sandra on a pink screen. And right below her photo was a gray banner that reads 'join Lovely Sandra right now. Get it all inside the site'.
Clicking that banner, Ike entered the website. Looking around, he quickly realized that it was a paysite. And that was obvious from the offer of monthly membership for only $19.95 or $69.95 for six months.
At the top of the page, a silver banner with bold black lettering commanded Ike's attention. It shouted, 'this site is updated twice a week.'
And an equally loud proclamation followed it, 'our member's area now has 406 galleries with 49,126 images. Our members also have exclusive access to over 100 hours of video from Sandra's many photoshoots.
That banner also proclaimed in red lettering, 'Coming soon! Exclusive behind-the-scenes footage from Sandra's runway shows and other public appearances.' And below it was an equally encouraging message that read, 'join now and get full access to Lovely Sandra.'
Ike then saw what the so-called members got for their money. Right below that sales pitch were dozens and dozens of thumbnail photos of the girl, each representing an entire gallery, and below each thumbnail was the upload date. Scanning the whole page, Ike could see the time stamp on those thumbnail photos ran back nearly four years, which told him that the girl had been very busy building this site.
Ike was more than interested in seeing what the girl was selling, but he didn't want to use his credit card to thoroughly access the website because it would leave an unwanted paper trail.
He then decided to check out those sample photos instead. The first thumbnail photo he clicked swelled to full size in front of his eyes, and Ike got more than he expected.
It showed Sandra posing on a gravel road in the countryside, wearing a red-checkered tank top, cut-off jeans, and sky-high red stilettos.
"Not your typical country girl," Ike mumbled. And that wasn't an idle comment from him because these galleries had names that went along with the dates. The title of this photo gallery was Country girl Sandra.
The very next one he clicked was a studio shot of the girl. In front of a sky blue background, Sandra was clad in a gold sequin mini dress and clear high-heeled sandals. But what truly caught his eye was the neckline of that dress, which ran to her navel and exposed a significant sliver of her naked chest.
Clicking another photo, Ike saw the girl posing in a corner office, with the sight of an unknown city through the panoramic windows behind her. With her butt propped up on a slightly cluttered, glassed-topped metallic desk, the girl's long legs were resting on a black office chair. She wore a white blouse, pink vest, black pencil skirt, and matching platform stiletto heels.
With her long hair flowing everywhere, and the sight of her white panties peeking out from underneath her skirt, Sandra looked like a wet dream version of an office worker.
But the following image was like a kick in the face for Ike.
Posing on a concrete patio with a fabulous-looking swimming pool behind her, Sandra wore gold platform heels and the bottom half of a metallic blue micro bikini.
And the only thing that kept the photo from becoming a topless show was that her long hair covered her boobs.
"Damn!" Ike mumbled.
"Ooooweee! That girl is mighty fine!" Willie said as his face hovered right over Ike's shoulder.
Jerking his head around, Ike almost choked on his tongue. But he uttered, "What! Oh, uh, yeah."
"I had a feeling you're the kind of fella that has excellent taste in women, Mr. Ike," Willie added. "Now, if you wanna print up a copy of this little honey, I'll hafta charge you extra."
"No, no, that's all right. I've seen enough," Ike uttered.
He made Sandra's site disappear with two mouse clicks as he shut down the entire web browser.
Ike shot out of there, almost knocking down the manager. Steadying himself, Willie wondered what would have happened if he had come out of the bathroom two minutes later. Would he have caught Ike jerking off to that girl's picture?
Back in the parking lot, Ike was taking the shopping bag off the rider's side seat of the Lincoln. Then, shutting the car door, he headed towards the exterior staircase.
As he ascended those steps, something bothered him.
Willie is goddamn right; Sandra is mighty fine. Indeed, the girl can easily pass for a 22-year-old on her website.
And if Willie knew her actual age, would he give a fuck? Ike had no answer, but it put a real twist on his naughty thoughts about her.
So much so that he wondered if there was a difference between himself and freaks like that Howard guy?
Ike concluded that the world is full of perverts.
***
Entering the room, Ike saw no sign of the girl. But, noticing the closed bathroom door, he didn't have to guess that she was inside.
"Sandra, I got your clothes," he says.
But there was no answer.
Calling her again, she finally spoke up.
"Oh, thank you... I'll be out in a minute."
With her hands bracing the edge of the sink, Sandra can only think about Ike's perfect timing. Looking down at the three empty bottles of 1800 Tequila and the last Burnett's London Dry Gin, she knew she had to ditch this stuff fast.
Without hesitation, Sandra scooped up those little bottles from the sink basin. The tinkling sound they made in her hands underlined the urgency to hide the evidence of her boozing.
Pressing those bottles as far down in the wastepaper basket as she could, Sandra spooled off another big wad of toilet paper, shoving it down on top. Then, grabbing the tube of a generic minty toothpaste, the girl squirted a big blob in her mouth. She then followed it with a mouthwash chaser. While that awful stuff went down her throat once more, Sandra worried it might not be enough to kill her liquor breath.
She always knew tequila could mess up her mouth as severely as whiskey, so she never touched the stuff. And yet, she drank it out of desperation after finishing all the gin. Knowing it was a mistake, she only hoped Ike won't notice the smell somehow.
Exiting the bathroom, she saw Ike sitting on his bed and a shopping bag on hers. She went directly for it, but looking inside, she stirred around the contents before saying, "did you forget the underwear?"
The girl then rummaged through that bag a little more.
Looking up at Ike, Sandra spouted in a harsh tone, "You forgot the underwear!"
Ike touched his forehead with his right hand as a sign of weariness, and the reason was simple.
While it was an honest mistake to forget that one item, he is no longer digging being a gofer for this girl.
"Can't you wear the ones you had?" he uttered.
Narrowing her eyes at him, the girl barked, "Is that supposed to be a joke?"
Not giving him a chance to respond, she quickly said, "Well, it's not funny!"
Glancing at the messy heap that was once her sexy outfit, Sandra couldn't believe he was serious.
It would be beyond gross for her to put any part of that filthy outfit back on.
"Gawd!" she uttered with exasperation.
Snatching the bag, she spun around and went into the bathroom, shutting the door.
Once the girl set that shopping bag on the toilet tank, she changed her clothes. Removing those borrowed undergarments, Sandra dropped them onto the floor without care. Digging into the shopping bag, she pulled out the T-shirt first. The girl finally saw the slogan that Ike thought was amusing when he first bought it.
But the girl didn't feel the same way. She twisted her lips slightly to the right and guessed he got this shirt for her as a joke. The slogan looked similar to one she saw once on a greeting card at the supermarket, and she didn't think it was funny then either.
Putting it on, she found the shirt an excellent fit compared to her once-sexy blouse. And while both had the same banana color, at least this shirt covered her entire torso. However, the pants were something else entirely. Taking them from the bag and looking at them, the girl wondered what Ike was thinking. The pants looked worn and faded, and she suspected he got them from a second-hand store, like Goodwill.
But as she slipped them on, she quickly found other problems. First, they were short in the leg, hovering high above her ankles. Second, despite her slim figure, they were also tight in the seat.
So much so that she might end up with a camel toe. But as she looked down at her crotch, she didn't see a noticeable one appearing. Then she realized something else. These pants would be tighter if she wore panties or even a thong.
Removing the flip-flops from the shopping bag, the first thing that popped into the girl's head was that she wouldn't have picked this color if she had gotten them herself since these sandals reminded her too much of Karl's hair. But, slipping them on her feet, she was at least satisfied that they fit.
Looking over in the mirror, Sandra was about to review her new clothes, but she focused on her hair. It was the first time she had inspected it since she air-dried it, and she didn't like how swirling waves replaced her hair's natural straight sheen.
While many girls probably wouldn't complain about having such a hairstyle, Sandra knew that the waviness in her hair was one step from a tangled mess, and she had no way of fixing it.
Turning her focus on her new outfit, Sandra didn't think much of it either. But at least it was better than what she had on before, and she wasn't just thinking about those borrowed undergarments. Despite her life in the modeling world, Sandra doesn't consider herself a cliché.
She always wears chic outfits, but she only does so when working the runways or on her website. Wearing such stuff out on the street is a no-go area for her, and it has little to do with the conservatism of her home state.
Unlike her mom, who has many designer things, like Prada, Versace, and Dolce & Gabbana, she likes to wear comfortable ordinary things.
Sandra then recalled the only time she ever honestly wore anything stylish in public, and it was during the New York incident. And she only did so because Karl and her mom made her do it. And since it was New York, she convinced herself that nobody would notice a 15-year-old girl strutting around in a tiny, Valentino red lace dress and 5-inch Jimmy Choo suede platform pumps.
Putting her left hand against her cheek, the girl let out a gentle sigh. She doesn't enjoy remembering what happened, how that trip turned into such a mess.
Leaving the bathroom, Sandra tossed the shopping bag and the things she had been wearing on the bed.
Still sitting on the opposite bed, Ike immediately says, "well, how are the clothes?"
Glancing down at her crotch, the girl was still concerned that she might have a camel toe she couldn't detect. However, she tried not to show any anxiety about something that most would see as trivial.
"I guess I could've given you my measurements before you left," she answered.
But the girl didn't know that Ike also noticed the pants were tight around her crotch and thighs.
And though he wasn't looking for one, he didn't see a prominent camel toe. But he noticed he needed to judge women's clothing sizes better.
And that prompted him to say, "yeah! I guess you should've given me your measurements."
Ike couldn't help but think the girl looked cute in a trailer trash way. But nowhere near as good as she does on her website.
"What's wrong?"
"Huh?"
"Do I got something on my shirt or something?"
"What? Oh, no! You're fine."
Ike realizes that the girl has noticed that his eyes were on her too long.
Getting his butt up off the bed, he announces, "Well, it's my turn to clean up and get ready."
"Get ready? For what?"
"To leave, of course," he said, pulling off his jacket.
As he unbuttoned his shirt, Sandra felt a little nervous watching him undress. But even more so when he undid his belt and dropped his pants. She didn't turn away or avert her eyes, especially after he took off his undershirt and revealed his nicely built torso.
But when he turned to fold up his things, she saw the scar on his lower back. It was larger and darker than the surrounding skin and stretched from his spine to his right side. And running right through the middle of this old injury is a visible surgical scar.
The girl realized she shouldn't be staring so hard, even though this was the first time she had been alone with an almost naked man.
Ike went around to the opposite side of the bed where the tote bag was sitting. And as he did, he noticed the girl giving him some eyeball time. Opening the bag, Ike was about to take out a few items but decided against it. Figuring this change of clothes might get damp if they sit in the bathroom while he's showering.
But as he raised his head, he noticed the girl still had her eyes on him. So, with reverse sarcasm, Ike says, "see something over here you like, Sandra?"
"What?" The girl uttered as her hazel eyes widened for a second.
Realizing he had caught her staring at him, the girl quickly lied, adding, "Oh no! I was... looking out the window."
Ignoring that lie, Ike presumed that the girl was checking him out. If she had done that the night before, he would say she wanted to get hot and sweaty beneath the sheets with him. But now, that just made him feel awkward.
As he headed to the bathroom, Ike continued what he said about leaving.
"Anyway, I have to... Get back on the road. And you, " Ike gestured with his right hand. "Have to let your family know you're OK." as Ike went past her, Sandra plopped down on the bed, and it wasn't just to get out of his way.
She felt like a giant helium balloon that someone shot a hole through, causing her to crash to earth. "Ugh, Can we get something to eat?" She says out of the blue.
"Yeah, sure," Ike responded over his right shoulder. He then disappeared into the bathroom.
Hearing the muffled sound of running water, Sandra had ideas about what she wanted to do. And going back to the reality she's always known wasn't on the list.
Immediately going over to the other bed, she went through his pants pockets. Then, getting his wallet, she saw his Nevada driver's license and assorted shopping, banking, movie rental, and other business cards. But it was the eleven hundred dollars cash she wanted.
Sandra was about to go out the door with his money in her pocket. Then, abruptly, a terrible thought hit her: what if she ran into another perv? Sandra had never traveled alone before, and even if she made it safely to the east or west coast, she needed to protect herself. So, taking the car keys from his pants, she left.
With the slapping sound of her sandals on the stairs, Sandra headed down. And as she did, taking off in Ike's car popped into her head, but for only a nanosecond. It wasn't because Sandra had no stomach for carjacking; she just didn't know how to drive.
Though she planned on taking Driver's Ed. when she hits 16, her mom got ahead of things months ago when she offered to buy her a brand-new Porsche. But after the New York incident, her mom became so pissed that giving her a car equals buying her a Gulfstream.
Besides, Sandra would rather have an Audi if it were her choice since Porsches are too fast for her taste.
Suddenly, Sandra stumbles, crashing against the railing of the stair landing. Shaking her head slightly, she wasn't sure what had just happened. It was as if some invisible hand pushed her. Looking down, the girl frowned. She then uttered, "oh, great!"
Her left sandal came off her foot, and she thought she had torn up her brand-new footwear. She picked it up with her left hand and saw it was fine.
But a weird feeling came over her when she slipped it back on her foot. Sandra felt weak in her legs and light-headed. Then, leaning upon the railing, the girl shook her head again, and that odd feeling faded.
Touching her right temple, the girl didn't know why it happened. Then she thought maybe, just maybe, she didn't get enough sleep.
Continuing down the stairs, she hoped that wouldn't happen again.
At the bottom of the stairs, the girl went straight to the back of the Lincoln. She then removed the keys from her snug pants pocket. Instead of opening the trunk, she quickly looked around to see if anyone had their eyes on her. But the lot was devoid of people. She then saw the manager through the glass door of his office, but his eyes were elsewhere.
Popping the trunk, the girl immediately looked around for the gun, but she didn't see it. But Sandra didn't know that Ike had put it in his tote bag long ago. Wondering where the weapon could be, Sandra saw little in that gray carpeted compartment beside the spare tire and jack. Instead, she noticed a large, black vinyl drawstring bag on the right side.
Grabbing the bag by its strings, the girl quickly realizes it is heavy. But that didn't deter Sandra as she dragged the bag over. Opening it up, she saw no gun but found out why it was so weighty.
