“Why the hell not? I mean, how can you not even consider it?” He sips and grins and sips some more. “Normally, I’d frown on this sort of thing, butthink about it, Brookie. You’ll be Luka Zoric’swife. You get tobanghim. Repeatedly. As often as you want. Hell, I’d even go monogamous for that man.”
I chuckle. Mateo monogamous? That will be a cold day in hell. When he’s not dating two or three at a time, which is never, he’s on the prowl for replacements.
In the very scarce in-between of those moments, he’s tried to convince me we should be friends with benefits. I’ve always shut that kind of talk down, not really knowing if he was serious—and honestly, I don’t want to know. He’s my absolute favorite person in the world and I never want our relationship to change. Plus, I’m too jealous to get involved with someone who only has open relationships, and as his platonic friend I’m free to cheer on his flavor of the week.
He rolls onto his back, balancing his wine glass on his abs, and looks to the ceiling.
“Tell me everything, one more time.”
“Ugh. Mateo.” I pretend to be annoyed. I’ve already gone through the entire story with him twice. Honestly, I think he’s using my narrative to role-play himself into my place, with a different ending that results in him and Luka fucking behind the restaurant in some bushes.
He knows I slept with Luka three years ago, and I’ve lost count of how many times he begged me to retell the story of that doomed escapade. He was ridiculously disappointed tonight when I got home and told him there’d been no sex.
“No sex” is Mateo’s most hated phrase.
“We went to dinner. We ordered pasta and sparkling water.”
“Eww. The water. Seriously.” His face scrunches up.
“I know. Anyway, he said he needs to clean up his reputation and get married to jack up his image. In return, he’d give me a contract to model for DRM.”
Mateo starts to speak, but I cut him off. “Do you think I should try to get another appointment, maybe with Stefan or something? I mean, this wasn’t even a real audition.”
He sits up and shrugs. “They hold two open calls a year, and this was number two.”
“It wasn’t an open call, though! It was a…spouse screening.” My heart sinks at the thought that I’ve missed my chance, again, to get a legit contract with the agency.
“Sorry, hon. Look on the bright side, though. You can totally wait around until next year to go crawling back and hope to God they like you enough to offer you a contract that won’t hold a candle to theinsane dealLuka just tried to make you…oryou can say yesright now, become Zoric royalty, and get famous by association so the next time the lease is up on this place, you can pay to keep it.” He looks at me pointedly and then says, “Your call.”
Then he looks away, pretending to inspect his nails nonchalantly, but it’s obvious which course of action he thinks I should choose.
“Funny. But it’s not like I don’t have other options. I had that audition for Maxilene cosmetics before I left LA, remember? I should be hearing from them soon.”
When the second largest cosmetics company in the world hosts an open call for models, you don’t run, you go super-sonic and get your ass there. I was the third in line and breezed through the audition, batting my lashes and smiling like a maniac while flourishing the tube of mascara they’d given me as a prop. Now if only they’d call me back.
Mateo’s got a curious look on his face, but maybe it’s the wine. He’s on his third glass.
“I’m telling you,” he insists, “there is nothing negative in the offer Luka made you. It’s all positive. All of it.”
“No, it’s not. He lied to me. He ghosted me. How can I trust him now? And why should I even want to help him after what he did to me?”
“He gave you the best fuck of your tender little life, you ungrateful wench. You could have that every day. Every. Day.”
I lie back dramatically and toss an arm over my eyes. “You don’t understand, Mat. I’m aging out. I don’t have much longer to make something of myself. You had your break and look at you now. I’m nearly out of chances.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re barely twenty-two. You have a bright, successful future ahead of you. And plenty of time to get there.”
“You don’t know that,” I say, my voice hitching with emotion.
There’s rustling beside me, and then the cushion sinks near my hip. I peek and see a wine glass thrust at me. Mateo holds it out impatiently. I sit and have a sip, and he looks pleased.
“It’s true that I have smoother, younger looking skin than you, Brookie. And I don’t have as much trouble staying in shape.” I roll my eyes as we bump shoulders good-naturedly. “But you have an amazing face and an incredible personality and a feisty attitude that has gotten you plastered all over this beautiful city. You’re a fighter, and believe me, you ain’t done fighting yet. Luka Zoric would be damn-ass lucky to have you.”
Slipping an arm around him, we side-hug, and I hand him back his wine. He settles onto the floor again, swirling his merlot and looking thoughtful. “Let’s just say—for the sake of argument—that getting marriedisyour best option for breaking out right now.”
He side-eyes me and I groan. That’s his guilty face, which I don’t see often because Mateo rarely feels guilty about anything. “Why are you saying this?”
Mateo hangs his head in shame. “Okay, look. I wanted to hold off on saying anything until I knew more, but…I have good intel that Monica Shore had a private meeting with the head of Elite Image. Like, really good intel.”
