Page 122 of Riot Act
Cross laughs. “Fuck. Okay. That’s a lot of money. I’ll give you forty if you do a private shoot with me. Today. Right now.”
“This is absurd,” Hilary says. “He’s not gonna do that. He’s contractually bound to this campaign. To us. The Van Kaiser Agencyownshim.”
Two seconds is not enough time to process what’s going on. My mind’s working way slower than usual given all of the ridiculous shit that’s happened in the past twelve hours. But this is the one thing Hilary shouldnothave said. Through the miasma of exhaustion clouding my head and the dull, persistent thrum of pain from…everywhere…those words cut through everything and hit me fucking hard.
Van Kaiser doesn’townme. Hilary sure as shit doesn’townme; I’ll be damned all the way to fucking hell and back if I let that shit slide. I narrow my eyes at Cross. “I’m gonna need more than the money.”
“Areyounotlisteningtothewordsthatarecomingoutofmymouth?”Hilary runs all of the words together, saying them quickly but enunciating very clearly at the same time—the way you might talk to an irritating child who just won’t do as they’re told. “Van Kaiser will fire you if we don’t get this shoot down and have some preliminary shots to send off to the rep by the end of the day. If you pick up a private shoot, halfway through one you’re being paid an awful lot of money to model on, then they will fire your ass so quick your head’ll still be spinning a week from Friday. No one will hire you again, Pax. We’ll still have exclusivity over your images and likeness until the end of thelegally bindingcontract you signed with us. That means you can kiss goodbye to modelling for anyone else for the next two years.Two years, Pax. You really want to throw away the best years of your career for—for one day shoot with a photographer whose work, I personally think, isgrosslyoverrated?”
Neither me nor Cross look at Hilary. Hilary, who’s always gone straight for the jugular when feeling threatened instead of trying to be fucking reasonable. Cross curves an eyebrow again. “What else do you want?”
“I’m done with this shit,” I tell him. “I don’t want my face plastered across a billboard every time I’m in an airport. I’m a photographer. I’m decent, but I don’t wanna be decent. I wanna be fucking great.”
“Oh, please. Everyone and their dog is a photographer these days,” Hilary seethes. “Scroll through your Insta feed. How many people—”
Cross smirks. “You wanna be my PA, then?”
“Fuck no. I’m no one’s assistant. I want you as my mentor. My teacher.”
He shakes his head. “You want that, you start out as a PA first. And I don’t do distance learning. You wanna learn something from me, you’ll have to move to Virginia and live out in the sticks, halfway up a mountain. You think you can handle that?”
Hah! He really has no idea who he’s talking to. “I already live in the sticks, halfway up a mountain. You’re not gonna dissuade me. But the PA thing—”
“Is non-negotiable.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, glaring at him. His eyes are piercing. Unblinking. Evidently, he’s not the type of guy to back down. “Fine. I’ll be your PA. And when you see what I can do, you’ll let me shoot with you instead and find yourself another lacky.”
“Maybe.” He seems amused by this negotiation we’re engaged in. I’m deadly serious, though. He won’t be so amused when he sees my work and understands what I’m capable of.
Hilary throws her hands in the air. “What, am I invisible now? Jesus fucking Christ, working with the guys was supposed to be easier than the girls. Can someone please regain an ounce of sense so we can get back on track here? Callan, we can cover most of the damage to his face in make-up. The split lip can be taken care of in post. The light’s great right now. If one of the guys can get—”
Callan composes himself and faces my agent. “That’s a wrap for today, Miss Weston. Pax and I have a busy day ahead of us, and I’m sure you want to get back to your agency. You’re gonna be fielding some urgent calls by the sounds of things.”
Man, if only I could collect this moment up and bottle it, I’d be sipping on Hilary’s devastation for years to come; the look on her face is fucking priceless. This is one of those situations where any normal person with a functioning conscience would feel sorry for someone. This could end Hilary’s career. Me being me, I can’t seem to bring myself to care, though. All I can think about is Chase, falling apart in her father’s arms, and I let my cruelty take me.
Hilary swings her attention from Cross to me, her whole attitude shifting right before my eyes. “Pax. Be reasonable. I know you’re not this reckless. This…thisirresponsible.When your mother finds out about—”
I level her with a cool, distant detachment. “This has nothing to do with Meredith.”
Hilary has more to say. More wheedling and manipulations to try. Our eyes meet and I watch the realization finally hitting her: there’s nothing she can say to change what’s happening and she knows it now. As she snatches up her purse and storms out of the warehouse, I can’t help but crack a villain’s smile.
Callan sees it and laughs. “I wouldn’t look so smug if I were you. Working for me isnotgonna be a walk in the park.”
47
PAX
GRADUATION
Flushed pink cheeks.
Bright, clear blue eyes.
Standing up ramrod straight, hair falling in loose curls that rest on top of her shoulders, Meredith looks better than she has done in years. The shadow of death that loomed over her last time I saw her in the hospital is gone. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, as she reaches into her Birkin and takes out a pack of Winchesters. She slides a cigarette out of the carton and lights it, offering me the packet.
“You go into remission and immediately start cooking up some lung cancer?” I grouse. “Real nice, mother.”
“Oh, please don’t call me that, darling. You know it makes me feel old.”
