Page 14 of Dirty Like Dylan

“But Dylan—um, Mr. Cope?—he asked my opinion—”

“I did,” I said, amused at being called Mr. Cope by this girl.

Liv leveled me with a glare. “Don’t encourage her.” Then she added, “And you know I agree with pretty much everything she just said about the shoot.”

“See?” Amber said. “So then—”

“BUT,” Liv told her, fixing her with a look that said Amber was not long for this job, “sometimes it doesn’t pay to be right, little sister.”

“Shit.” I attempted to intervene again. “Liv—”

“But I was just—”

“No. It’s a lesson you’re just gonna have to learn,” Liv said, her mind clearly made up. “Right now.”

Then she fired her sister from the shoot.

Chapter Four

Amber

So that was a low moment. Getting fired from a job I didn’t even want. By my own sister.

As the ferry skimmed across the water, away from the mainland, it kinda felt like I was being banished. Clearly, it was as obvious to everyone else as it was to me that I didn’t belong at that commercial shoot. I wasn’t fooling anyone.

Least of all Ashley Player.

Yes, I knew photography, but I wasn’t exactly an expert in advertising, much less men’s underwear. Liv had told me not to talk to anyone, and that probably covered following Dylan Cope to his dressing room—even though he’d beckoned me to follow him—then letting Ashley the Asshole put me on the defensive and mouthing off about the shoot.

So yeah, I’d definitely overstepped. I could see that now.

But the way Ashley had scoffed at that gorgeous photo of Dylan on my camera? It abraded me. I just couldn’t let it lie.

Maybe I really didn’t know shit-all about selling underwear, but I knew a gorgeous man when I saw one, and I sure as shit knew how to make a heart-stopping beautiful photograph of him. I was never gonna apologize for that. The best photos I’d taken of Dylan Cope had been in that dressing room, and if no one else there could see that, or acknowledge it, just because their fancy set with all the expensive lighting wasn’t involved… so be it.

It’s not like I was looking for any kind of future in that ridiculous world anyway. Liv and her crew and her rock star clientele could go ahead and bite me. Including Connor the friendly biker, who’d escorted me off the property and put me in a cab with a white-toothed smile.

Damn, though. I did kind of feel like an asshole about the whole thing now. Why couldn’t I just smile and keep my mouth shut?

Because you’re not wired that way.

Neither was my sister, but Liv had just always been better with people.

We’d both been born with a love of cameras, been kind of artsy and nerdy growing up, but that was where the similarities had ended. Liv just had a knack for directing people, for issuing orders or kissing butt, for knowing who to tell off—and get away with it—and when to keep her mouth shut. She knew how to keep the whole machinery oiled and chugging along, without losing her soul in the process. She’d always been that way, maybe because she’d learned how to handle ridiculous people—our parents—at such a young age.

Somehow, I’d missed that lesson.

While Liv knew how to manage other people’s crazy—including mine—without letting it get under her skin, I totally fucking floundered and drowned under social pressure.

Which was maybe why I’d never had a lasting relationship. Why every guy I’d ever been with had dumped me. Or totally screwed me over, then dumped me.

When Liv had her assistant literally ship me off to one of the little islands off the coast, it wasn’t exactly a new feeling—being run out of town. I hadn’t been fired as many times as I’d been dumped, but it had happened often enough.

I wanted to be offended, but I was secretly pretty grateful for the relocation, even if I wouldn’t admit it to my sister. I really was kinda pissed about being fired, but mostly because it was embarrassing in front of Ashley Player and Dylan Cope—for different reasons.

Ashley because he was such an asshole, and he was probably gloating about it right now. He knew Liv and that exec were standing behind me when I said all that shit, and he didn’t stop me. He just let me drown.

Dylan because he really did seem nice. He looked as surprised to find Liv and the exec standing there as I was, and he even looked a little sorry for me when Liv fired me. Plus, he was so totally beautiful. Like I-could-stare-at-him-all-day-and-night beautiful. Every time he’d looked at me, my uterus flipped out and I wondered stupid things like Is my bra strap showing? and Do I have grape skins in my teeth?

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