I pull back and look him dead in the eye. “Don’t ever confuse a natural response to kissing with my being seduced. The last client that did that found himself without a regular f**k for six months.”
“You’re so difficult,” he murmurs. “I don’t remember you ever being this headstrong.”
“I wasn’t.” I step from his hold. “But a lot of things can change in seven years. You ought to remember that.”
***
It’s nine a.m. on a Monday f**king morning, and I’m not in bed. There are so many things wrong with this, least of all the fact I’m in the building that houses Stone Advertising’s offices, ready to sit by idly as my ‘boyfriend’ picks two new models.
Yep. Casting call number one and I have no coffee. Even if I did have coffee, I’d need something stronger in it because acting like a coolly jealous girlfriend is going to drive me insane by lunchtime.
A young intern hands me a mug of the much-wanted coffee with a mumble. I watch her as she turns to Aaron and hands him one too, this time with a bright smile and wide eyes. What the f**k is it with females going all doe-eyed and charmed around him?
He smiles as he thanks her, and she practically pants and runs away. That’ll be it. The panty-dropping smile that hasn’t yet worked on me. Clearly I’m immune to that one, huh? I roll my eyes.
“Jealous already?” he murmurs into my ear.
“Green as can be.” I bring the mug to my lips, inhaling the strong scent of coffee. “Don’t you know how threatening teenage girls are?”
He laughs lowly and places a hand on my back. “Then it’s a good thing I prefer a real woman, isn’t it?”
The door opens and the first model strolls in. She’s all…well, bones, to put it bluntly. There’s nothing to her apart from skin. No curves. Nothing.
“This is the kind of girls you work with?” I turn my face and raise an eyebrow.
Aaron taps my nose. “Try to behave yourself.”
“Always do,” I mutter into my mug as he takes a seat.
Four other models join her, all of varying body types. One is curvier, another clearly packs a bit of muscle, one is slim but less curvy, and the last is basically the second girl with curves. They’re all completely different.
And each of them knows how to work it, how to manipulate the small panel in front of them. Despite this, it’s plain to see where all their eyes are—on the man in the middle. The one relaxed back in his chair with his foot resting on the opposite thigh, his fingers adjusting his tie, and his eyes on no one in particular. As they each introduce themselves, Aaron nods, but his expression never changes.
The curvy girl seems put out by it the most, and she flicks her light hair over her shoulder with a sense of entitlement. Oh, god. I hate these snobby bitches. Someone should tell them that you’re not entitled to anything just because you were blessed with good looks and a great rack. Get off your high horse and work hard just like the rest of us.
She places her portfolio on the table with a beaming smile and an unnecessary wiggle of her body. I cough from my perch on a desk in the corner, and both she and Aaron look at me. She with annoyance, he with amusement.
I hold up my empty mug. “Sorry. Went down wrong.” My lips curve in a polite smile, and I cross one of my legs over the other. My dress rides up slightly, exposing my thigh, and the darkening in Aaron’s eyes tells me he saw more than just my thigh.
The door closes behind her as she leaves the room, and I lean back on my hands as the other girls all come forward and leave their portfolios on the table. Aaron’s gaze flicks to me every other minute, and I feign complete ignorance, even though I can feel it burning into me.
“What do you think?” Eric Duvall, the British guy, asks Aaron when the room is empty.
“What did they want?”
Eric holds up a sheet of paper. “Blond, curvy but not heavy, slim but not skinny.”
“And the only blonde there was on the skinnier side of slim.”
“The curvy girl, uh…” Another guy shuffles paper. “Connie. She’s so light she’d pass for blond.”
I bet that’s not all she passes for in your mind, buddy.
“No.” Aaron shakes his head. “She’s too dark for blond. Dayton? What do you think?”
“Hmm?”
His lips quirk up. “Connie—the first girl that left. Could she pass for blond?”
“Sorry, but no. Light brown and blond are different. She’d have to get highlights, and since this is only one shoot, it’s a big ask.”
“One shoot with the potential to front the campaign,” the guy who wants her puts in.
“But why ask her to take the risk? There are probably a hundred blond girls out there who would be suitable. Of course, this is only my opinion—and I know nothing about modeling.” I shrug a shoulder.
Eric Duvall smiles gratefully at me and turns to Aaron. “Shall we put out another call?”
“Yes—and be specific. Don’t miss a detail—hair, eyes, weight. Everything. This is a large contract we can’t afford to lose.”
“Will you be here next time?” the other guy asks.
“No, we leave for Sydney on Thursday.” Aaron stands, and the other guys follow suit. “Obviously I expect a full report including portfolios via email before the end of the day, and it goes without saying that no one will be chosen without my approval.”
“Of course.” They shake hands.
“Thank you for coming today, Adam. I know you’re busy with the L’amour contract.”
“It was a pleasure.” He nods and leaves the room.
“Eric, how’s your wife?”
“She’s well, thank you. Bloody awful sickness is taking its toll on her now, poor love.” He shakes his head.
“My ag—” I catch myself. “My friend swore by popsicles when she was expecting her son. She said they kept her hydrated as well as settled her stomach.”
“Really? I’ll get some on the way back home tonight. Thank you, Dayton.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile.
He checks his watch. “Excuse me. I have a meeting for another contract in ten minutes, so I really must be going now. Dayton, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He takes my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “And, Aaron, I’ll be sure to touch base with you and your father tonight to let you know the outcome.”
“Thank you, Eric. Good luck with the meeting.” Aaron shakes his hand and closes the door behind him. He pauses in front of it, raising his eyes to mine. “Subtlety isn’t a strong point of yours, is it, Dayton?”