He’s jealous. And I kind of like it.
A small grin pulls at my lips. Maybe Luka does care about me.
“You know things between Mateo and me are strictly platonic,” I remind him. “It’s never been otherwise, and it never will be.”
“Regardless,” Luka says gruffly, “don’t you know how shitty it looks for my image if the paparazzi get more pics of you partying it up with another man, weeks before our wedding? Did you forget what happened the last time you two went out to a club? We nearly had a fallout thanks to the pictures that got circulated.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water over me. Of course. Hisimage. His reaction had nothing to do with us. It was about all the ways I could potentially screw up his PR.
“Don’t worry,” I say quietly. “We’re just going to dinner and our friends will be there.”
“When can I expect you back home?” he asks.
“I’m just here for the weekend,” I tell him. “I’ll be back Monday.”
“Fine. See you then.”
He hangs up, and I stare down at my phone feeling like my chest is caving in.
I can’t believe I thought there was something more blooming between us. I’ve really let my own emotions override common sense lately. Of course Luka doesn’t actually care for me. This is still, and always has been, just a business deal.One we made to elevate Danica Rose’s image, which by proxy means Luka’s, too. That’s all I am to him—a means to an end.
* * *
The next morning,I slide into a black leather chair across from the head of Elite Image, Austin Spears, who greets me with a smile. I’m feeling zero anxiety about being here at their swanky Hollywood office. There’s a pit in my stomach over this meeting and what I’ve agreed to do for Elite, but for once, it’s not filled to the brim with guilt.
If anything, I’m even more motivated to see this through.
“Glad you could make it.” Austin slides a piece of paper across the mahogany desk. “Here’s our official offer. I’m sure you’ll be more than pleased with the terms.”
My heart begins to pound, my palms growing damp as I read the contract. They’re offering to make me the premier face of Maxilene cosmetics. International contracts. More dollar signs than I’ve seen in my life. I’m trembling by the time I’m done reading all of the perks Elite is offering in exchange for the terms we privately discussed before.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and read it again. At least, I try to, but the words begin to jumble. This offer is a much bigger deal than what Danica Rose is currently giving me. So much more. And yet, I’m not sure how easily I can walk away from what I’m already locked into. On an emotional level, the guilt wants to come back and remind me that I already have a deal, even if it’s not the absolute dream that’s outlined before me on paper.
Austin steeples his fingers, a knowing grin on his lips. “Anything DRM is currently giving you will be null and void once you sign with us. This contract overrides anything you currently have in place. You can walk away from them, free and clear.”
“I know,” I tell him.
He pulls a pen from the inside breast pocket of his suit coat and hands it to me. His smile is meant to be reassuring, but it does nothing to make me feel that way. I slowly take the pen as he watches me intently, probably gauging what my next move will be. Joke’s on him, though, because even I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Positioning the contract in front of me, I lower the pen until the tip rests on the signature line. But the pen begins to feel heavy in my grip, and I set it down.
“Are you worried you won’t be able to deliver?” he asks, concern knitting his brow.
“I can deliver. It’s not that.”
It’s true; I can give Elite exactly what they’ve asked for. Luka’s already unknowingly given me everything that I need to make Austin and his bosses very, very happy. A flash of my fiancé’s face plays in my mind and guilt begins to trickle into that pit in my middle. I’m so tired of feeling this way.Whyshould I feel guilty? Luka has no trouble making everything we do about business. His end game is all about looking out for himself and the agency.
So why shouldn’t I look out for myself, too? It’s business.
I slide the contract back toward Austin. The flicker of disappointment in his expression is visible. “I need to think it over a bit longer,” I say, lifting my chin.“I’ll get back to you soon.”
He drums his fingers on the desk, eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to think of some way to persuade me to sign right now. But then he sits up straighter, pulls the contract over, and scribbles his signature on one of the bottom lines.
“Take it with you and mail it back when you’re ready.” He slides it my way again and gives a resolved tap of his hand on the desk. “You’re a smart girl, Brooklyn. Smart enough to know where the opportunity lies. I’m confident you’ll come around.”
I thank him and tuck the contract into my bag on my way out the door. I still have no idea what the right move is.
Because no matter what I decide, somebody’s going to get hurt.