Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
What the fuck was going on there?
I’d always known they were odd, but over the years, they’d just kept getting weirder.
Finally, Preston said a few choice four-letter words before the phone seemed to move again and a new voice came through the speaker. “Luca?”
Roman’s frustrated tone had me settling back on my stool. It was good knowing I wasn’t the only one who wanted to kill Preston. “Yes.”
I was so professional, I didn’t even ask him what the hell they were doing.
“Preston’s a moron.” That was so obvious I just waited to see what he’d say next.
Preston was in the background protesting that he wasn’t a moron, but Roman and I both ignored him. “The boy wants to meet you. This won’t get any better if we wait. What are you doing this afternoon?”
Working was probably the wrong answer. But as I looked over the scraps of fabric and notes that were littered across my worktable, I knew I couldn’t put off meeting the model. If he didn’t work out, I’d have to start from scratch finding someone else and that would take time I didn’t have.
Fuck.
This had to work.
It’d already gotten fucked up several times and I was out of patience.
“I can make it work.” Looking over at the clock, I wondered what time he meant when he said afternoon. Their schedule always seemed to be worse than mine. “When?”
“He’s working on some blog posts and random shit right now. Just before lunch he has a quick shoot, and then the rest of the day he’s flexible.” Roman rattled off the information like he had a list or the boy right in front of him.
As I looked back at the screen to see Emerson’s wide eyes looking back at me, I had to remind myself again.
Model.
He had the model right in front of him.
“Is he there?” I knew Preston would’ve already acted like an idiot in front of the model, so his behavior didn’t give me anything to work with.
“No.” Roman’s short reply had me shaking my head, but he didn’t make me threaten him to get more. Smart Dom. “He was curious, but his innocent look is fucking with Preston and turning him into a moron.”
That was not a surprise.
“What did he think besides being curious?” That had to be a good start at least. He’d shown himself to be open-minded during his other shoots, so I had to hope that he would look at mine with the same interest. “I just need to know what I’m walking into.”
Roman was quiet for a few seconds, and knowing the cranky man, he was probably debating the model’s privacy. Eventually, he relaxed and gave me something to work with. “He’s open to it, but he’s smart enough to understand the chemistry has to be right. He’s worried.”
I was too…but probably for the wrong reasons.
“About?” Randomly guessing what had made him nervous would be ridiculous. The possible list was just too long and Roman’s snort said he knew that already.
“I’m just guessing here, and if you tell him I said it, I’ll castrate you.” He paused, letting the weight of his threat fill the silence.
“Understood.”
He must’ve believed me because the rest came out with less hesitation. “He’s easily turned on once he’s comfortable and not everyone has responded well to that. Some people are idiots.”
That seemed to be all Roman had to say on the subject of whatever had happened to the boy in the past, but I was glad when he gave me a bit more to think about. “He’s not worried about the actual job. He’s going to like the corsets. He just has to know how you’re going to respond.”
I knew what he meant. We’d gone over how badly the photos would look with the wrong model a dozen times. I’d seen firsthand how awkwardly the photos would turn out if the model wasn’t into it and wasn’t comfortable.
It’d been painful…and creepy.
Roman barked out a laugh which made me curious. “And he’s a total sub. A brat and an idiot when he’s drunk, but a total sub.”
That was not unexpected…although I had no idea how he knew what the model was like when he was drunk.
“Fine.” I wasn’t sure how any of this was supposed to help me not scare the fuck out of him, but it was at least a step in the right direction. “Let’s say two? It’ll give me a chance to wrap up a few things.”
“Fine.” Just as I thought he was done, he sighed. “Just don’t fall for the innocent act. It’s just who he is and way too many people can’t see past it.”
I snorted and hung up the phone.
He was an idiot.
The dirty innocence the boy radiated was the reason I wanted him.
Fuck.
No, the model's unique look was the reason I wanted to work with him so he could showcase my designs.