I hated it.
I wasn’t here to fix anything. I was here to be a “gentleman” and shake hands. But I couldn’t help it; it was my nature to suss out weakness.
More than that. It was my job.
“The modeling industry has come under fire in recent years for unethical treatment of models. What would you say to that?” I asked her.
“Our work environment is a fair and ethical place.”
“High work expenses. Inflated commissions. Exorbitant fees deducted from paychecks without explanation…”
“We don’t take advantage of our models.”
“Can you prove that?”
“We get themwork,” she said, like she was stunned and mildly offended by the question.
“Yes,” I said, unimpressed. “That is, fundamentally, what a modeling agency does.”
“I have a pristine reputation in the industry,” she insisted, downing the rest of her drink. “I assume that’s why Superior bought us.”
And now, swear to Christ, she was getting slurry. It was mid afternoon on a Tuesday. She was sitting across from a man who had the power to remove her from her position. And disappointing the shit out of him.
“Superior bought you,” I said, “because you could be bought.”
“Ah,” she said with a short laugh. “Direct. I can see whyyouare such a success in business, Mr. Davenport.”
“What would you say is your greatest weakness as a manager?”
“Oh, my. You do get to the point.” She waved down a waiter and pointed at her drink, like,Refill, stat.“If you ask my ex-wife, she’d say I work too much.”
I doubted that.
“What wouldyourbiggest weakness in business be, Mr. Davenport?”
“Dane,” I said. “My weakness is that I get mildly obsessed when I discover a weakness. I can’t even sleep until I’ve torn every trace of it out at the root.”
“Well. Some might call that a strength.”
“Some might.” I checked my watch, wondering how long I had to make nice here before I could escape.
And whether or not I’d be firing this woman before the day was through. Her future with any company I was involved with was looking pretty shaky at the moment.
“Oh—hello.” Janelle looked up as someone approached our table.
“Hi,” said a woman’s voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”
I glanced up. I saw a vivid, turquoise-and-yellow dress wrapped around impressive curves, dark hair with glimmering highlights…
Total truth: I saw tits. Beautiful tits, swathed in turquoise and yellow.
Then I saw hips. Then I saw lips. Then I absorbed the rest.
Then it hit me who she was.
“Uh, Dane… this is Devi,” Janelle said, clearly surprised by the interruption. “She works with me at the agency.”
Devi’s dark eyes met mine. And I knew, in that look, it wasn’tfancymeeting us here at all. This little run-in was no surprise. She knew we were here.
