Tell Me Something (The "Something" Series Book 1)
Read Tell Me Something (The "Something" Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Aubrey Bondurant
Tell Me Something
By Aubrey Bondurant
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is for mature audiences only.
Cover by: Covers by Karen
Text copyright © 2015 by Aubrey Bondurant
I looked at my watch and sighed stealing a glance at my boss. Convinced he was going to have an aneurism if the model didn’t show up soon, I stood to the side out of his way. Warren Carlyle was pacing, and with the extra fifty pounds or so he was carrying on his frame, he would be sweating through his expensive suit at any moment. This had to be his worst nightmare as the senior vice president on a million-dollar advertising campaign to be waiting on Katrina Tross, a hot, upcoming model who was the It Girl of this last year.
The time and place had been confirmed with her agent yesterday, but no one was answering the phones now. I didn’t know Warren very well as I hadn’t worked for him that long, but I had witnessed his displeasure and was not looking forward to the fallout if the Cassius Rum ad campaign was put in jeopardy.
The coupled facts that we’d booked Katrina Tross eight months before her asking price had nearly quadrupled and now she was a no-show probably wasn’t coincidence, but I kept my thoughts to myself. No one wanted to hear from an administrative assistant who’d been part of the advertising world for all of four months. If I was lucky, it would only be for nine more months, then I’d have enough saved up for law school.
I glanced over at the waiting professionals: the costly hair stylist flown in from New York, the fashion designer, and one of the best photographers in the business, Bart Chesley, whose asking price was most likely a large chunk of the budget for the day. He was an older man who looked a bit eccentric with his ponytail and hipster jeans that no one with gray hair should probably be wearing. He was practically steaming over his time being wasted and seemed to have had no issue telling Warren that a few minutes earlier. Unlike most people, he was not intimidated by my boss.
Thinking it couldn’t get worse, Warren’s eyes bulged as a tall man in a well-tailored suit strode in. Warren’s entire demeanor changed instantly as he rushed to greet the stranger. It was obvious this man was in charge in some way.
After watching he and Warren walk closer, I sucked in my breath as I caught my first glimpse of him. He was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. Tall, with broad shoulders and sporting short, dark black hair, he had features that were classically chiseled.
Wondering what color his eyes were, I couldn’t see them from where I was standing. I was staring, but thankfully I wasn’t the only one as Trisha the makeup girl sidled up next me.
“Wow he’s even hotter in person. All that money and a nice package, he is something,” she acknowledged.
I nodded and then realized she spoke as though she knew him. “Who is he?”
Trisha laughed. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new. That’s Josh Singer, as in owner, and CEO of Gamble Enterprises. That includes Gamble Advertising, Gamble Properties, and Gamble Productions. He’s the only man I know that can make Warren sweat it.”
I knew the name but had never seen the man. “He seems really young to have all that,” I replied.
Shrugging, Tricia supplied, “I think the advertising and hotels came from his father. The movie production thing is newer.”
“He looks pissed,” I remarked, watching him talk to Warren in a terse tone that I couldn’t quite hear.
“Yeah, well, he’s known for his temper. His divorce to that Brazilian supermodel a few years ago was quite the tabloid fodder. I heard it was quite messy.”
We both observed him make a quick phone call and then go over to speak with Bart the photographer, who obviously felt comfortable enough with Josh that he let his own frustration show.
“We’re running low on daylight here, Josh. Where the hell is she?” Bart grumbled.
“You know he’s kind of intense-looking, but maybe that’s what makes him hotter, you know?” Trisha said sighing.
All I could do was nod. I snapped out of it with Warren’s barking.
“Haylee.”
Walking quickly over to the three men, I met the dark green eyes of Josh Singer. I tried to focus on my boss. “Yes, Mr. Carlyle?”
“You said that you confirmed with her agent yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, I did. I’ve been trying his phone as well as her assistant’s phone over the last hour, but I’ve only gotten voicemail.”
“And did you leave a message?”
His voice was so condescending, that it took all of my effort not to say something smart. Instead, I took a deep breath while trying to ignore Josh’s eyes on me. Warren was trying to appear like he was in control, especially in front of his boss.
“Yes, sir, I left several,” I explained.
We all turned at the same time towards a commotion in the doorway and watched as Katrina Tross herself came strutting through as if she owned the place.
“About damned time,” Bart muttered under his breath.
Warren was all smiles for the model, shifting completely into what I called his schmoozing role. You must have to be good at it to get to his level in advertising. “Hello, my dear, good to see you. We are running behind, so if we can get you into hair and makeup, we can get started.”
Quirking a brow, she gave Josh an assessing look with a sexy smile. “Fine, but I only have one hour.”
Warren sputtered and took her assistant to the side. “But we booked one hour prep and two hours for the shoot. We need at least that as we have three scenes.”
The warm sensation of breath in my ear took me off guard, as I had been completely enthralled in their conversation.
“Can you pull out your phone and record this exchange?” Josh whispered.
Flushing, I realized he was inches from my face. “Uh, yes, of course.” I hesitated, waiting for my fingers to catch up with my brain, and then fumbled for my cell phone.
After I pressed record, Josh walked into the frame while Katrina shrugged. “Not my problem,” she claimed.
“Ms. Tross, are you saying that you don’t care that the contract specified four hours and you are a half-hour late and now demanding that the entire shoot take one hour?” Josh asked in a low tone.
Her assistant tried to speak up and then stopped. Struggling with his words, he finally got them out. “Mr. Singer, it’s just that Ms. Tross has other obligations—”
“Last I checked, a contract was an obligation,” Josh stated dryly.
Although I may not know the man, it was clear that his anger was restrained and that Katrina didn’t catch the tone when she gave him a pouting smile.
“You can have this face for an hour of pictures and sell your rum with whatever I give you. Considering the peanuts I’m getting paid for it, I think it is only fair,” she informed him.
Josh held up a hand to Warren, who was about to interject. “So if I understand you correctly, because we signed this contract before your asking price skyrocketed, it is no longer worth honoring as you have other higher-paid jobs to attend to?” Josh clarified, looking at me as I gave him a slight nod.
“Yes, good. You understand, wonderful. Shall we proceed then and quit this nonsense talk about contracts?” Katrina gave her purse to her assistant to hold, evidently ready to get to work.
“No, Ms. Tross, we won’t. You’re in breach of your contract, and since you cannot fulfill it, you can leave.” Josh spoke the words without hesitation.
Warren appeared beside himself with the color his face was turning, but he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. He was no longer in charge of this situation, that much was obvious.
“You can’t be serious?” Katrina objected. For a woman so very beautiful, she was quickly becoming ugly.
“I assure you I’m very serious. You will be hearing from our attorneys. Good day to you.”
Josh turned his back on her as she sputtered. “But I’m the hottest thing there is. Even your assistant can’t help herself but take my picture over there. You’re making a huge mistake.”
Josh quirked a brow at me, and I flushed as he turned back to Katrina.
“She’s not taking your picture. She is putting on record your refusal to honor the contract.”
It happened quickly. One moment I was looking at Josh and the next Katrina lunged toward me. Stepping out of the way, I was just in time as she tried unsuccessfully to grab my phone. Thankfully her assistant restrained her.
“I guess we can add attempted assault to the tally,” I quipped, earning me a wry look from Josh and a glare from Warren. Pressing stop on the record feature, I viewed it quickly to ensure I had it all.
Katrina wisely kept her mouth shut and turned on heel, fleeing out the door with her assistant following.
It seemed everyone was waiting on orders from Josh, who, curiously, was still looking at me.
Uncomfortable silence wasn’t something I was good with. “I’ll, um, call Legal and have them file the paperwork immediately.” I was happy to do something to break the tension, not to mention the eye contact with Josh.
After hanging up the phone, I overheard Josh talking with the photographer.
“All right, Bart, what do you want to do now?”
The older man gave a little smile and turned towards me. “We use her.”
They were all looking at me and I couldn’t help but look behind me for some other girl they must be talking about. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked as Bart barked orders.
“Get her into hair and makeup. Have the seamstress hem the dress; she’s about four inches shorter,” Bart proclaimed as Warren appeared indecisive.
They weren’t joking around, I realized when Trisha took my hand and led me to the chair. “But—but I’m not a model,” I squeaked. The hair stylist was behind me, letting my hair down from my clip.
“No kidding, chica. Bart, what am I to do with this one? She’s shorter and about twenty pounds overweight.” Ramone, the clothing designer, was about to have a fit of his own.
Sucking in my breath, I let my temper get the best of me. “She has a name and you can talk to me directly instead of pretending I’m not in the room and I don’t appreciate having my size six called fat.”
I swore I saw a ghost of a smile from Josh as he witnessed the exchange, and thankfully Warren was now on the phone out of ear shot.
“Honey, by industry standards anything above a two is fat.” Ramone was tsking over my frame as Josh came over and met my eyes.
“What is your name?”
“Haylee. I’m Haylee Holloway,” I supplied.
Nodding, he looked towards the stylist. “We use Haylee here or the whole shoot is a wash. You’re a genius, Ramone. Make it work.”
That seemed to pacify Ramone as he went over to the clothing rack and started taking inventory.
My hair was blown out within an inch of its life as I watched Warren cross over and take both Josh and Bart to the side.
“Look gentlemen, she’s a real pretty girl. I’ll give you that, but she isn’t a model. She has no training, and she isn’t the image we were hoping to go with. I’m on the phone trying to get a model agency to send another girl. I’m sure we can get someone here in the next hour or so.”
I tried not to take offense at Warren’s words as it wasn’t like he was wrong. I could confidently say I was attractive based on some male attention in my twenty-two years, but I had never been considered exceptionally beautiful and would never have been labeled model material.
Bart shrugged. “Your call, Josh, but I think she’s more photogenic than the stick.”
I couldn’t believe he would say that as I felt Josh give me a once-over from head to toe. I blushed at the scrutiny. He had once been married to a Brazilian supermodel, and here I was a girl right out of college from Northern California who had led a sheltered life thus far, looking at him in stunned disbelief.
“All right, I trust you. You know what you’re doing, Bart. If anyone can turn nothing into something, it’s you.”
Well, that was quite the confidence builder. As if I needed a reminder as to why Josh Singer was out of my league, that sealed it.
***
I stared at my image in the mirror when Trisha turned me around. Somehow they had transformed my wavy, shoulder-length brown locks into silky straight perfection that I didn’t dare run a hand through but was sorely tempted. My ordinary blue eyes stood out like big pools, with the long lashes and coal-black liner. I never would have thought I could look like a model, not even for a day, and had to appreciate the effort as I smiled at Trisha and the hair stylist.
“You guys are amazing, I look so different.”
Cringing as Ramone loudly requested a better-padded bra, I flushed crimson when I realized Josh was standing close by and proceeded to get dressed behind a makeshift sheet.
I never imagined how much touching models endured. It was a little overwhelming, to say the least. They slid my feet into platform heels, and I looked down at the little black cocktail dress and took a deep breath. Well, no turning back now.
“Let’s go,” Bart yelled.
Stepping towards a red background, I glanced at the bar with the shiny bottles and the bottle of rum strategically placed. I was like a fish out of water as I nervously adjusted my dress.
Bart took both of my hands and then looked into my eyes, obviously realizing I was shaking like a leaf. “Relax, take a deep breath, Haylee. Have a seat on the bar stool and turn your body towards me,” he directed.
