“It is, Mat. I’m committed. Consider it a necessary first step in my healing process. And if Luka gets jealous about my tirade across the city, even better. He deserves it.”
“Atta girl,” Mateo says with a grin.
* * *
The next day,Mateo brings me to the private studio of a female photographer he knows well. It’s housed in a renovated industrial building in the historic part of Downtown, with brick walls, cast iron light fixtures, and lots of floor-to-ceiling windows that let in amazing natural light.
“This place is gorgeous,” I whisper as we step inside the lofty space.
Beyond my public appearances, we decided we’re going to bring back my sex appeal with some new photo shoots while I’m here. I’m also going to try to book a few smaller gigs to fill the time and bulk up my new and improved portfolio. Operation Sexify, full speed ahead. I’m leaving my good-girl image behind without an ounce of regret.
“Hope you two are hungry!” Jasper greets us, ushering us to a low table made out of a massive tree trunk that sits in the corner of the studio. There are velvet floor cushions all around the table to sit on, and Jasper has set out iced coffees and fancy artisanal donuts for us. She’s got tons of energy, artsy glasses, and an outfit that looks a lot like mechanic’s overalls. I like her.
“I brought a few shots for inspiration,” Mateo tells the photographer.
As we all get settled with our snacks, Mateo pulls out the black and white photo spread of me and him from the luxury hotel shoot we did back in Chicago. Jasper slides a few of them closer, studying every angle and expression, pointing out every hand placement that makes the spread look so overtly sexual. I’m instantly comfortable with her and impressed by her sharp artist’s eye. We talk about the way my eyes are sultry, my lips pouty, how confident I look. I agree that I had no hesitation about showing off my body in that string bikini.
“That was one of the hottest shoots I’ve ever done,” I tell her. “I love how it turned out.”
Jasper nods, waving over the makeup artist so he can look over the photos as well. “We’re going to put together something even better,” Jasper assures me.
“I really like this look,” Mateo adds, tapping one of the photos. “Let’s have Brooklyn do something like this, with that amazing body spread out over the staircase.”
There’s a three-story metal staircase in here, and another cast iron spiral staircase. For my photo series I choose the spiral one, that way I can hold on to the center pole with the same love a stripper would give it, while arching and curving my body to fit the contours of the railing.
Jasper plays with the lighting and gives a few general suggestions, and then I go to a back room for hair, makeup, and wardrobe. I try not to think about Luka as I get fixed up, but it’s hard. I know he said some things he didn’t mean to try to hurt me, but he was successful. It’s impossible to keep his harsh words from replaying in my mind.
“You almost ready for this sesh?”
Mateo strides in, looking amazing with his dark eyes lined in heavy black eyeliner. I must look envious, because he shoos the makeup artist away and grabs several sticks of liner, tipping up my chin to put the finishing touches on my eyes.
“So, this hot husband of yours has zero chance of crashing our party here, right?” he asks. “He has a really bad habit of doing that.”
I make a sound that indicates he won’t. I haven’t spoken to him since I walked out of the penthouse a few days ago. There’s no way he’d know where I am right now.
Mateo pulls back to give me a dubious look with one perfect eyebrow arched. “You really think he’s sleeping with Monica Shore, don’t you?”
Over champagne last night, I’d vented my suspicions over why she really got the job instead of me. The suspicion seems hollow and I feel gross when I say it out loud, but it doesn’t stop my brain from repeatedly going there. I can’t figure out why the hell else I wouldn’t have gotten the job, no matter what Luka said. It feels like there’s more to it.
I shrug.
“Hold still!”
I almost roll my eyes but I refrain like a good little model. Being with Mateo lifts my spirits, yet I’m still haunted by my horrible shouting match with Luka, and I can’t stop seeing Monica’s smug face when her name was announced for the Maxilene campaign. Nor can I shake the utter shock and disappointment I felt in that moment.
“I honestly don’t think he is,” Mateo murmurs as he leans back and nods approvingly at my finished hair and makeup. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Brookie. Deep down, he’s completely whipped. A man who feels like that can’t get it up for anyone else.”
“Luka Zoric has never had trouble getting it up in his life, and he’s not about to let a little thing like marriage or fake loyalty stop him now,” I scoff.
“I love you, but you’re wrong.” Mateo holds out his hand and I take it, letting him pull me out of my chair. “Okay. You’re ready to steam up the camera, bitch. Let’s get this done so we can go have a few drinks.”
“Go clubbing, you mean.” I press my lips together.
“Yes, clubbing. God, you’re a pain in my ass. Come on.”
The photo shoot starts with me draped over the spiral staircase, just as I imagined.
“Do you want to try a few shots with you topless?” Jasper asks. “No pressure, of course. I want you to do what’s comfortable.”