“It’s something I have always been interested in. I grew up with some of the most talented photographers being a constant in my life. I would sit and watch while they worked their magic behind the lenses, taking the pictures of some really beautiful girls and making them exquisite. I knew that I was never going to be one of those girls in front of the camera, so I thought being the one behind it would be better for me.”
She spoke with such enthusiasm that I almost missed it, that soft note of hurt and the pain that darkened her purple eyes. I sat my fork and knife down and just sat there staring at the hauntingly beautiful woman in her faded cutoff shorts, plain tank, and messy bun. How in the fuck did she not know that she was beautiful enough to be in front of the camera? Why would she think something that ridiculous?
It was something I really wanted to find out, but something told me that if I asked she wouldn’t tell me. So I stored it for a later time. “You grew up with photographers? Why was that?”
“My stepsister is Ariana Calloway.”
I raised a brow because the name sounded vaguely familiar to me. “Should I be impressed?” I asked, not sure if that was the reaction she had been expecting from me.
Harper grinned. “I guess it depends on who you ask. Ariana is still a pretty big deal in Paris and Italy, but not so much here in the states anymore. She’s burned too many bridges for anyone to want to work with her. But she is…was…is a supermodel. She was the face for some top names five years ago.”
“Ah… Sorry, I still don’t know who you are talking about.” I opened the internet on my phone and typed in Ariana Calloway . There were a handful of pictures that popped up in the image search, and I clicked on the first one to enlarge it for a better look.
Shoulder length dark blonde hair. Cool, almost emotionless blue eyes. Her face was beautiful, but it was a fake kind of beautiful. I wasn’t sure if she was still that good to look at under all that makeup. She didn’t hold a candle to the beauty sitting across from me destroying my sanity by biting into a cream covered strawberry.
Harper had no makeup on, but she didn’t need it. With her purple eyes and crazy long caramel lashes, the Cupid’s bow shaped mouth, and striking cheekbones, she had me mesmerized without trying. She had captured my attention the instant I had seen her a few days ago, and she continued to hold it in a way thousands of girls hadn’t been able to.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
I shrugged. “She’s pretty.”
Harper frowned. “That’s it? Just pretty?”
“Okay, she’s beautiful. But any decent makeup artist can make anyone beautiful. She isn’t all that great to look at.” I grimaced. “Sorry if that offends you.” I didn’t want to push her away by insulting her sister.
“No, that doesn’t offend me,” she murmured. “I’m just not sure if you are for real. Most guys trip over their tongues when they see Ariana.”
“I’m not most guys. I would trip over my tongue to get a taste of you, but I really couldn’t care less about your sister.”
“Stepsister,” she corrected, her tone cool. “And now I know you are not for real.” She pushed her nearly empty plate away and reached for her water. “You must have a vision problem.”
“No, but now I know why you have to wear glasses.” Her brows rose. “Because you’re legally blind if you can’t see what I see.”
She snorted. “Wow, do lines like that really get you laid?”
I couldn’t help it. I threw my head back and laughed out loud. “No, sweetness. I don’t have to use lines to get laid.” They lined up for a chance to warm my bed for an hour or two, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “But with you it’s different.”
Violet eyes rolled at me, and I swear my dick actually twitched. Fuck. Me.
This was going to be so much fun!
Harper
I had to give it to him. Shane Stevenson was a smooth talker. If I were more naïve I would fall for his sweet talk, but I wasn’t naïve. I knew he was playing me.
“So you met Lana at NYU.” Shane changed the subject. “What’s your major?”
“It was journalism, but I graduated last semester.” I was hoping to get a job with a magazine or newspaper, something that was more dependable than the freelance work I was currently doing. At the moment no one was hiring. If anything they were letting people go, so I was lucky to have at least the part-time work.
Shane nodded when I told him this. “I know a few people. Maybe I could help you out.”
“No!” I shook my head. “I don’t want you to do that. If I wanted an easy in, I could be at Vogue right now. That isn’t how I want to start my career off. I want to do this on my own.” It was important to me that I do this myself. I needed to know I could do it on my own or all my hard work would be pointless.
And I needed to prove to myself that I didn’t need my stepfather’s name—or anyone’s name but my own—to succeed.
His phone chimed and his lips lifted in a grin as he glanced down at the screen. My eyes were drawn to it and I saw was the name Lulu before he started typing a reply to the text. Another pinprick of pain stabbed my heart and I glanced away.
“One of your adoring fans?” I nearly slapped my hands over my mouth as soon as the words left it. I sounded almost jealous!
Shane continued to grin as he continued to text. “I wouldn’t say she is a fan. I doubt her parents let her listen to Demon’s Wings music just yet.”
My eyes widened. “You have an underage girlfriend?”
“What?” He looked shocked by my question. “No! Of course not. Lucy is only seven! She’s Lana’s little sister.”
I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at his comically stunned expression. “Sorry. I assumed it was one of the many groupies that salivate at your feet.”
The way he threw his head back and laughed sent delicious chills down my spine, and I had to avert my eyes from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed because it was so damn sexy. As I looked to my left, I found our waitress staring at Shane too. She was eating him alive with her eyes. I realized few women would be immune to this man, and I was starting to think I wouldn’t be among those few.
His phone chimed again but I didn’t dare look until he grumbled a curse under his breath. I glanced back at him, seeing him pulling his wallet out of the basketball shorts that he had borrowed from Linc. “What’s wrong?”