Chapter 54
1491words
It was well-suited to me. The entire floor of an office-building in Manhattan within walking distance of either coffee or alcohol—depending on the day. Designed to fit my tastes.
Elegant. Professional. With just a touch of flair to add that extra pop.
In my case, the ‘flair' was a gourmet espresso machine that I'd written off for tax purposes, claiming it was a necessary tool for my job.
A little excessive? Perhaps. But that was my life now. It had been my life ever since I'd signed my new contract and come to work that very first day.
Working with the Huntington Corporation, meant a professional upgrade. And in the land of public relations, a professional upgrade meant you got yourself a team. With the Huntington family behind me, it wasn't hard to do. For people in my line of work—the Huntingtons were the dream, and not two weeks after I started working with Nicholas, I had an office with a full-time staff of twelve people at my beck and call.
Of course, Nicholas had refused to work with any of them himself. But when it came to crafting a public image, much less an image as convoluted and high-profile as his, there was a lot of behind-the-scenes work that needed to be taken care of.
For that—I had the team. For everything else—I was your girl.
'Morning, Avery!" Jake Harmon, the first person I'd hired after I'd been granted a discretionary budget to do so, interrupted my quiet contemplation. 'Didn't expect you in today."
I glanced up at the clock.
'Thought I'd get an early start. Plenty to do, after all."
I'd texted my team late last night. It might have been about two in the morning when I'd made my final selection—but there wasn't a shadow of doubt in my mind that all twelve of them were still awake and working. If they weren't—they'd better get awake and working.
'Yeah," he chuckled, making a beeline for the coffee maker, 'I got your text."
I handed him down a mug and took a sip myself.
Not the best. Certainly nothing like Nicholas's. We could do with another upgrade.
'But that's exactly why I'm surprised to see you here," he continued. 'I'm working up a full press packet for the girl, but don't you have to go meet her?"
I shook my head, shrugged an innocent shoulder, and waltzed into my office with a secret little smile. The same smile that had been dancing around my face since two in the morning.
The girl's name was Elisia Campbell. She was from Oklahoma. And I would be meeting her here. In this office.
The location might have been seen as a slap in the face by those sensitive enough to take it that way. To an up-and-coming model like Elisia, a person with a giant egotistical chip on her shoulder, it would most certainly be taken that way. But considering that of the two people in the equation, I represented Nicholas Huntington—I felt I had the leverage to call the shots.
And to be frank, a little slap in the face might be exactly what the doctor ordered if I was introducing her to Nicholas later that day. I wanted her bitchy. I wanted her fuming.
I circled around my desk and leaned back in my chair with that same little smile. Already, I could hear an argument at the security gate, as I'd failed to put Campbell's name on the list.
Time to make a little mischief...
* * *
Ten minutes and a lot of shouting later, there was a tentative knock on my office door. I closed the book I was reading, set down my mug of coffee, and folded my hands upon my desk.
There was an art to it. This throne-like posture. I had picked it up from Mitchell.
'Who is it?"
Alison, my secretary, popped her head inside. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out over her forehead, and her dilated eyes locked nervously onto mine.
'Ms. Winchester, there's an Elisia Campbell here to see you." She paused a second, then lowered her voice to a hush only I could hear. 'She looks about ready to explode."
Perfect.
I nodded with a little stab of satisfaction.
'Send her in."
Allison disappeared, shaking her head like I'd been spending too much time with crazy-Nicholas. A moment later, the door burst open and two people swept inside.
One was a tiny little man. Glasses. Tight suit. All the classic indicators of an over-worked manager to an up-and-coming star, the kind who couldn't yet afford to pay him.
The second...? Well, the second was different thing entirely.
The first thing I noticed were the breasts. In fact, they were all I could notice.
For a split second, my heart froze in my chest. Nicholas was a breast man. Like all adolescents cast off at an early-age to boarding school, he had developed an almost unparalleled affinity for the wonders of the female chest.
But then my eyes traveled up to her face.
My heart continued beating.
The second I'd seen the picture in her file, I knew I'd found ‘the one.' There were simply no other candidates—I'd closed my computer soundly behind me.
She was a dead ringer for Nicholas's least favorite ex-stepmother.
'Emma?" I rose tentatively from my chair, extending out a hand.
She froze in her tracks, a rather frightening look contorting her painted face.
'It's Elisia, actually."
Already, it was easy to hear that bitchy tone just beneath the surface. The tone of a girl who thought she was better than everyone around her. Better than she really was.
I warmed in anticipation just at the thought of it.
'But that's alright," she hastened to continue (after receiving a sharp look from her manager), 'the two of us just met."
I smiled sweetly, and gestured for her to sit down. Damn right she would behave. This meeting was her ticket out. She knew it. I knew it. We all knew it. Even little Allison, eavesdropping outside the door, knew the significance of what was about to happen.
I was the key to making all that possible. All her dreams. All that insatiable ambition.
She would play nice. She'd smile until that plastic face of hers cracked.
'We may have just met, but I already feel as though I know you," I said in a disarmingly friendly tone. I flipped open the file in front of me, and began scrolling through. 'So you signed last week with Ford Models, right?"
Just like a million other girls.
She perched on the edge of her chair, nodding with the speed of someone who had spent many such hours on the edge of that chair, just trying to get noticed. 'Yes, a one-year contract."
I paused and looked up.
One year in the modeling world was not a good thing. Not when someone was just starting out. They offered longer years to younger girls—trying to get the most out of their age.
Now this girl wasn't as young as they got—not by a long shot. She was twenty-four years old. Same age as Nicholas. Two years older than me. But still—just one year?
I looked at her manager. Her manager sank an inch or two lower in his chair.
Yes, everything was riding on this meeting alright. This meeting was making them sweat.
In a way, I almost felt sorry for her. Then I looked at her fake smile...and I didn't.
Nicholas didn't want to do it. I had effectively guilt-tripped him into it. Jobs were depending on it. His father had forced his hand.
This girl?
She'd step on anyone and everyone she could just to claw her way to the top.
'Congratulations," I said politely.
There was no reason to be openly mean. In fact, in the long run, I was actually doing dear Elisia the biggest favor of her entire career. Bestowing her a gift that was entirely undeserved.
'So...Ford Models, what then?"
It was a standard question. She gave me a standard answer back.
'Well, modeling is how I'm hoping to get my start, but acting is my one true love. I'd love to branch out into feature films as soon as possible. From there, the sky is the limit. Maybe I'll transition into music? Start my own clothing line?"
Yeah, because I'm sure you have the talent for all that.
My eyes narrowed slightly, but I kept that fixed smile plastered on my face.
Don't judge it now, Avy. She's absolutely perfect!
I shut the folder with a smile, and slid it across the desk.
'Let me tell you a little about Nicholas..."
