Page 29 of King of Envy

“Hmm.” Hank’s eyes bore into mine. “Where did you go after you wrapped?”

My breath stalled.

No. He couldn’t know. I’d been so careful.

He knows everything,a voice whispered in my head. It was the same voice that’d told me it was a bad idea to head to a contract lawyer’s office after I finished the Delamonte Cosmetics shoot. I should’ve waited until Hank was out of town.

I’d dismissed my misgivings as paranoia. How could Hank have found out? I’d chosen a law firm that had no ties to the fashion industry, and their office was across town from Beaumont’s. My agency couldn’t possibly have spies in every business in Manhattan, though it certainly seemed that way at times.

My gut knotted.

“I ran some errands, worked out, then went home,” I said.

“What kind of errands?”

“Dry cleaning, groceries, the post office.” All true, though I’d left one notable stop out. I adopted a playful tone. “Why the sudden interest in the mundane details of my life?”

“I’m invested in the lives and well-being of all my girls. As your agent, it’s my job to have a holistic view of everything that goes on in your life. You know that.”

Yes, because my post office runs were so integral to my success as a model. What bullshit.

“Speaking of which, I have good news.” Hank smoothed a hand over his tie. “Sage Studios called. They’re booking you for their denim campaign.”

My heart leapt. “That’s great!”

My dislike of Hank didn’t override my pleasure at booking a job. Although modeling hadn’t been my childhood dream, I’d grown to love it.

“Yes. You haven’t done a big commercial clothing campaign in a while. Prestige is great, but commercial pays the bills.” Hank clucked his tongue. “Wentworth will be thrilled. He’s been wanting to shoot you again for ages.”

My smile melted. “Wentworth…Holt?”

“Is there another Wentworth who matters in fashion?” Hank’s tone indicated there was only one answer.No.

The knots in my gut constricted further. “I told you I don’t want to work with him anymore.”

“It’s a good thing what you want doesn’t matter.” Hank delivered his response so casually that I would’ve questioned whether he meant what he said had I still been a new model. “Wentworth is the most influential fashion photographer working today. Youwillshoot with him, and youwillstay on his good side.”

My fingers strangled my water glass. “I don’t care. He’s a predator.”

The industry was filled with them, but everyone turned a blind eye. It was a tale as old as time: the more powerful they were, the more they got away with, and Wentworth Holt was Powerful with a capital P.

If he refused to work with a model, her career was all but over. Unfortunately, he also had a reputation for being a littletoohands-on at his shoots—and not in a professional way.

“Have you witnessed inappropriate behavior firsthand, or are you repeating gossip and lies?” Hank asked coolly.

“I’ve seen how he’s treated other models on set. He’s mademeuncomfortable on set.”

Wentworth wasn’t stupid enough to try anything with other people around, but he certainly toed the line of what was appropriate. The last time we shot together, he groped me and tried to play it off as “adjusting” my outfit—which was the stylist’s job.

I hadn’t worked with him in over a year after I expressed my concerns to Hank. I foolishly thought that meant the agency was taking my boundaries into consideration for once, but I should’ve known better.

“Making someone uncomfortable is notpredatory behavior.” Hank scoffed. “This is fashion, and you’re a star, babe. So suck it up and stop whining.” He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to develop a reputation for being difficult, do you?”

I gritted my teeth. Reputation was everything, and rumors that a model was “difficult” could tarnish even the brightest of careers.

Before I could reply, Hank’s smarmy smile fell off his face. He glanced over my shoulder, his expression now one of trepidation.

I was about to turn and see what had him so spooked when I felt it.

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