“So far so good, but I need to check on the model flying in from San Francisco for the “Mahogany” promo photos. She was supposed to have landed just now, but I haven’t heard anything. You okay if I leave you for a moment?”
This stirred my memory. The guys had pushed back on a bunch of Theo’s ideas, but one he’d managed to slip through was adding a female model to promote the upcoming single and amp up the sex appeal. Seemed a bit old school to me, but I think everyone was tired of arguing over each little detail, so they’d let that one pass.
“Definitely. I’m going to hunt down some coffee,” I said, scanning the area for catering.
Nora pointed it out and rushed away.
I walked over to the table laden with coffee pots, granola bars, yogurts, and an assortment of fruit and picked out a few things before pouring myself a big cup.
“Oh, it’s you,” someone said in a disgruntled voice behind me.
Careful not to spill any of my coffee on myself, I turned to face Theo. He gave me an assessing once-over and pursed his thin lips. “What was your name again?”
Despite being sure he was trying to be nasty, I gave him my brightest smile and said, “Molly. Great to see you again.”
“Is your boss coming to this thing?”
“She’ll drop by for a bit in the early afternoon once she’s done with her other meetings.”
“And what are you here for?”
I co-opted Nora’s earlier words to me. “To make sure everything goes smoothly. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way. Just want to make myself available to Mason and Kaz in case they need anything, and maybe snap a few BTS shots.”
To my relief, he didn’t seem overly upset about the last part. “Yes, Trinity mentioned something about that and how Last Rites didn’t have the budget to hire a professional.”
The smile stayed frozen on my face, even if it no longer reached my eyes. Why did guys like him get off on minimizing other people? He had to be painfully insecure about something to act this way.
“They have to be scrappy until they get their record deal,” I offered. “Something this shoot will hopefully help with.”
The glint in Theo’s eyes told me he took that as a compliment. “I should hope so. If only you knew how many musicians have told me it was my work that put them on the radar. I should really be getting a cut of their royalties.”
The arrogance was so over the top I thought he was screwing with me. But, no, he appeared to mean it and was now expecting a response, when all I wanted to do was send this very hot coffee flying in his face.
Instead, I took a small sip and pointedly looked at a clock hanging on the wall beside us. “Oh, shoot, I’m sorry. I told the guys I’d bring them breakfast. Let me do that quickly.”
He gave me an irritated shrug. “Hurry, we’re starting in thirty minutes.”
I waited until he walked far enough in the direction of the set before making my way to the dressing rooms, praying Theo wouldn’t catch me in my lie. When I walked in, the guys were getting some makeup done while trying to sneak in bites of the breakfast that had already been provided.
“Hey,” I called out, hesitant to move any closer to the flurry of people around them. “Do you need anything?”
Mason’s gaze found mine in the back-lit mirror. “All good.”
“How do we look?” Kaz asked, looking markedly more awake than on the drive here. Something told me he was getting excited for this thing, and I couldn’t blame him. Their future stardom was becoming more and more real with every single day. Today in particular was a big step forward.
“Like you’re halfway through getting your make up done,” I said with a teasing grin.
One corner of his lips quirked up. “Just you wait.”
Ten minutes later, when they rose from their makeup chairs and changed into the clothes selected by the stylist, I had to bite my tongue.
They looked good enough todevour.Mason was rocking a black Last Rites T-shirt, dark jeans that hugged him in all the right places, and a pair of leather combat boots. Beside him, Kaz stood in a button-up shirt with the top three buttons undone, sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, and his fingers adorned with thick rings.
I wanted those hands on me. The cool metal against my scorching, needy skin. They were trying not to make eye contact with me, probably conscious of my admonishments about not giving anyone the wrong idea about us, but even their brief glances felt like licks of fire across my cheeks.
There was a thick, sexually potent silence as all the other women in the room took a moment to admire their excellent work.
“You look good, boys,” said a short-haired woman who looked to be the oldest and most experienced. “Now get the hell out there and make love to the camera.”
