Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Heather lowers to the chair beside me. “Daddy’s been upsetting people again,” she quips.
My agent laughs a little, not in the least bit surprised. “Good old Daddy.”
“What do you have for us?” I ask, trying to focus on work—something I love and that will distract me from Sharp, who’s lingering somewhere behind.
Kerry takes a seat and slides a file across the table. “You don’t mind if I go over a few other bits with Camille, do you?” she asks Heather.
“Don’t mind me.” My friend waves a casual hand in the air and looks over her shoulder. “Sure I can find something to pass the time.”
I smack Heather’s knee, and she shrugs, begrudgingly returning her attention to Kerry, who is transfixed past us again. I cough to snap her out of it. “Right!” Kerry shakes herself back into the meeting. “Levi’s is launching a new line, and want your legs in their jeans.”
“Ohhh,” I muse, opening the file and browsing through, ignoring Heather, who’s turning again to ogle my bodyguard.
“And Dior is launching a new miracle cream. You’re top of their list of blondes to do it.” Kerry winks, pointing to my face. “Clearest complexion in the industry.”
Heather laughs, turning back around. “Does that matter? They’ll still airbrush the shit out of her.”
Kerry pushes her fingers through her severe crop, shrugging off my friend’s comment. “Interested?”
“Of course,” I chime. “What are the themes?” I place the file on her desk and watch as her eyes constantly flick past me, making me wonder what Jake’s doing behind me. Is Kerry blushing? My hard-ball agent who never displays a hint of emotion? I frown and crane my neck, peeking over my shoulder. He’s standing by the door, hands joined in front of him…looking fucking sinfully gorgeous. I swing back around to Kerry before I can let my greedy eyes relish the sight any longer. “Themes?” I prompt.
Kerry’s eyes whip to mine. “Oh, yes, themes!” She’s all a-fluster, grappling at papers on her desk as Heather giggles beside me. This is a first. Kerry doesn’t get flustered either. I suppose the sight should be a comfort. It isn’t just me who finds the arrogant wanker attractive. “Here.” She picks up a piece of paper and reels off the brief. “Levi’s is going back to its roots. Ranch-theme, cowboy, hats and boots, that type of thing. Dior is a minimal headshot. Minimal makeup, expressionless; you know the score.”
“Sounds good!” My mood is lifting, some new projects giving me the nudge I need.
“Great. I’ll start the negotiations. Any requests?”
“Yes,” Heather pipes up. “She wants a bowl full of orange Smarties and the room temperature at 19 degrees. Not a sniff over,” she deadpans, and I burst out laughing.
Kerry looks up as she writes something down—something I know won’t be a record of what Heather’s just demanded. “You know I’d get it for you, right?”
I smile, amused. “I know. But I don’t like Smarties and there will be robes to keep me warm.”
“God, I love how easy you are to deal with.” Kerry goes back to her scribbling. “I’ll call you with the finer details.”
“Perfect. Now tell us about the new potential investor,” I ask, not liking the cautious flick of Kerry’s eyes to mine at the mention. “What?”
“Yes, what?” Heather sits forward.
“Well.” Kerry coughs, stalling.
“Kerry, just come out with it.”
“They want to work with you, Camille. They really do. They love the idea of you fronting the campaign, and have even championed the idea of extending the range for all women of all shapes and sizes.”
“But?” Heather and I ask in unison.
“But you don’t get a say in the designs.” She bites her lip. “Or the fabrics. Or the accessories.”
I deflate in my chair. “So basically they just want my face and body to sell a new line of clothes that’ll have our names on, but we have no input on…anything?”
“Where do I feature in this arrangement?” Heather asks indignantly.
“You don’t,” Kerry answers, to the point, leaving my friend wilting in her chair, hurt invading her pretty face. “Sorry, but it’s still a great opportunity, Camille. And they’re offering great money.” She pushes a file across her desk to me.
I reach over and rub my friend’s arm as I give my agent a tired look. Does she really think I’ll go for this? “Kerry, it’ll be no different from the modeling I do day in, day out. And they want me to ditch my best friend and partner? We have hundreds of drawings, some great designs!”
Her lips straighten, a little sympathy making its way onto her face. “Take a look at their offer.” She taps the file, and I take it on a roll of my eyes. “They’re keen.”
I stand and collect my bag, stuffing the file inside carelessly before nudging my dazed friend from her injured trance. She gets up slowly. “Call me when you have the details on Levi’s and Dior.” I swivel, and my despondency deepens when I’m forced to confront Sharp. Our eyes lock for a few moments, but he’s the first to break our stare, opening the door for me. I mutter my thanks as I push Heather past him.