Page 34 of Edge of Heaven

I nod. “Yes. We actually met the last time we worked together.”

“I remember.” Hettie grins. “And honestly, I would have used him again, but he made it seem like he wasn’t really interested in modeling.”

“I don’t think he is, in general, but who can say no to a paycheck for one day of work?”

She laughs. “Agreed.”

We finish up the lingerie photos—and it does warm up a little—and then I head back to the dressing room to change into jeans, a halter top, and a leather jacket. And another pair of ridiculously high heels.

“Hey, Hettie—these heels are ridiculous,” I say. “Do you sell them in the store or on the website?”

She shakes her head. “No, but we thought bare feet would look weird in the catalog.”

“For sure, but why heels this high? I’m five nine—these are at least five inches. I think a regular three-inch stiletto would still project the same vibe without me feeling like I’m going to fall over every time I take a step.”

She looks down at my feet and studies them for a few seconds.

“I honestly didn’t give it any thought,” she admits. “It’s just an embellishment, from the perspective of our sales, so it didn’t occur to me you’d be so uncomfortable.”

“And that says something,” I add. “Because I wear heels pretty much every day of my life. For me to be uncomfortable means they’re just too high.”

“You’re right. I don’t know what else we have for you, though.”

“Let me look in the stock room,” the stylist says. “You’re a size eight, right?”

I nod.

“I’ll be right back.”

I sink into a chair and pick up my phone.

There are a handful of texts from Callum.

That’s never good.

CALLUM: Hope you’re having fun without me—because I’m having fun without you.

And there’s a picture attached of a blonde on her knees in front of him, sucking him off.

Gross.

I fight back the torrent of emotions ripping through me.

I have to focus on work.

I don’t care who he fools around with as long as he keeps paying for Toby’s treatment.

But it makes me feel so fucking cheap. Used.

Like some kind of prostitute.

Shame washes over me, and tears prick my eyelids.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing away the tears.

“Hey…you okay?” The soft voice matches the gentle touch on my shoulder, and I jump, quickly turning my phone over.

“Hi.” I manage a wobbly smile, but Mick doesn’t seem convinced.

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