“Dammit.” I put my face in my hands and silently scream into them. Once again, it’s just not going to go my way. “Do you think they’re looking at her for the Maxilene campaign?”
“I’m compelled to think so, considering that every other Maxilene model just so happens to have been an Elite girl.”
“Yeah. Everyone knows that.” I let out a big sigh.
Monica Shore is kind of a big deal. At one time, she had the new-age face that everyone talked about—huge, wide, otherworldly eyes, a delicate heart-shaped face, lips that would give Steven Tyler a run for his money. All she has to do is bat her baby blues and she gets signed every time. Rumor has it that she’ll stop at nothing to book the jobs that she wants, and from her impressive resume, I have to believe there’s some truth to that. She walked into Elite after a recent, messy split from her longtime former agent and I’m sure she walked out with a brand-new contract and the Maxilene gig to boot. No wonder I haven’t gotten a call back yet.
I shift my weight and look at the floor. The truth is, Elite Imageisinterested in me, more than I’ve let on to Mateo. He doesn’t know about the recent conversation I had with them…and what the results of that conversation were.
A pang of guilt goes through me. Sometimes I feel like I’m turning into the person I said I would never be. The one who does anything to get a contract.
The thought makes me feel a little sick.
It’s not like me to cry over my career. I learned early on that it left you with undereye bags for days and no resolutions. So I’m surprised when tears threaten. Holding them back is easy, but it bothers me that I’m now stressed to the point where tears are my only option.
Well, not my only option.
Maybe Ishouldconsider Luka’s arrangement. It’s just…I’ve never cheated my way into a job, and I’ve always been firmly against it. Sleeping your way to the top is commonplace in this profession, but it’s something I’ve avoided at all costs. Until now.
Brooklyn Zoric, supermodel.
It has a nice ring to it. A very nice ring.
I catch Mateo’s eyes. He looks smug, as if he’s reading my mind. “Just make sure the prenup includes a clause that says getting laid all the time is a requirement. Oh, and a guest room clause for your bestie.”
I huff a laugh. Yeah, right…like I’d actually go through with this. Although I can’t deny how hard my nipples get when I think about sliding into bed with Luka every night.
Reality slinks back in and I shake off these ridiculous notions.
I can’t marry Luka Zoric.
So why the hell are my panties wet just thinking about it?
Luka
Chapter 7
After my epic failure with Brooklyn, I decide I need to blow off some steam. I text my workout buddy Diego and then meet him at the gym to do a few hardcore weight circuits. But even benching three hundred pounds of iron with the latest Nas album blasting in my AirPods can’t distract me from replaying the dinner date over and over in my mind, trying to figure out where I made that fatal wrong turn.
If I had the conscience to feel guilty about things, I’d feel guilty about fucking her three years ago and then ghosting her. But of all the women in the world who could’ve shown up to my wife auditions, I never in a million years expected Brooklyn Moss to walk through that door.
It took all of my willpower not to react when I saw her. My cock remembered her before my brain did, a flash of heat and lust coursing through me—and then I remembered why. Those sultry, smoky eyes, those legs that go on for miles. That mouth wrapped around my dick. The dirty talk. How hard she came, as if I was some kind of sex god. I’ve never been the type to need an ego boost, but hearing her scream my name like that sure hadn’t hurt.
Diego and I trade off machines for an hour or so, and then I head back home, my muscles burning pleasantly as I drive through the nighttime lights of the city.
I’ve been with a lot of beautiful women, but Brooklyn is the kind that a man doesn’t forget. And I didn’t; I just pushed her out of my mind like I do all the others. No sense in hanging on to the old when I need to make room for the new.
That’s a lesson I learned the hard way, from a very young age. Every woman I got attached to left me, and it doesn’t take a shrink to figure out why I turned out how I did, jumping from each one-night stand to the next without a second thought. But I’ve enjoyed it every step of the way. Never looked back.
Until Brooklyn.
She was always hanging around in my memory, just lingering there as the first completely unforgettable piece of ass I’ve had in, well, ever.
I didn’t do right by her. I’ll admit that. I’d promised her a modeling gig three years ago, when honestly, seducing her was all I’d ever had on my mind.
I probablycouldhave gotten her signed, but that would have required me to beg my brother Stefan for a favor. And to explain that that favor was for one of my conquests. I groan even thinking about the lecture on responsibility and self-respect that would have followed. After I’d come home from my MBA program and started making up for all the years of partying I’d missed while I was studying my ass off at college, my father and brother had perfected the same boring speech about “upholding the Zoric name” and loved to dictate it to me at every opportunity. I’m disgusted to think that my father was such a hypocrite all along.
So no, I wasn’t really involved in the business back then, and asking a favor for Brooklyn would have opened a can of worms with my family that I didn’t want to deal with. Besides, she was a one-nighter that I never intended to see again…signing her to KZM would have meant I’d have to see her often at the agency. That just wouldn’t have worked for me.
