by Stella Gray
The Sham
Convenience Book One
Stella Gray
Copyright © 2020 by Stella Gray
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
About This Book
Also by Stella Gray
Prologue
1. Brooklyn
2. Brooklyn
3. Brooklyn
4. Brooklyn
5. Brooklyn
6. Brooklyn
7. Luka
8. Brooklyn
9. Brooklyn
10. Brooklyn
11. Brooklyn
12. Brooklyn
13. Luka
14. Brooklyn
15. Brooklyn
16. Brooklyn
17. Brooklyn
18. Luka
19. Brooklyn
20. Brooklyn
21. Brooklyn
22. Brooklyn
23. Brooklyn
24. Luka
25. Brooklyn
26. Brooklyn
27. Brooklyn
28. Brooklyn
Also by Stella Gray
About Stella Gray
About This Book
Our marriage is a sham. I'm the first to admit it. Only privately, of course.
* * *
Notorious playboy Luka Zoric needs a wife, and the good PR it brings.
* * *
I just need the career boost being his top model will give me.
* * *
It's a win-win--on paper. But since when has real life been simple?
* * *
His jealousy makes me crazy.
* * *
The control he maintains over my body is unacceptable.
* * *
I really shouldn't be so turned on by it.
* * *
But there's more to both me and my husband than meets the eye.
* * *
And it isn't long before I'm wondering--which of us has made the bigger mistake?
Also by Stella Gray
Arranged Series
The Deal
The Secret
The Choice
* * *
Convenience Series
The Sham
The Contract - July 2020
The Ruin - August 2020
Prologue
Luka
My brother is hiding something.
I look across the dining table just in time to catch him exchange yet another covert glance with his wife Tori and can’t help feeling like another huge bombshell is about to drop. Maybe it’s the recent scandal hanging over my family, but I’ve had this nagging sensation of impending disaster for months now.
Finding out your father was the mastermind behind an elicit, multimillion-dollar prostitution ring will do that, I guess.
Still, this isn’t just paranoia. I knew something was up from the moment Stefan and Tori invited me over—family dinners are my brother’s usual M.O. when he has something serious to discuss. I’ve noticed more than one thoughtful pause from him tonight, but each time he opens his mouth, it’s nothing but small talk, punctuated here and there by Tori’s typical rambling about her linguistics classes at UChicago.
So now here we are, finishing up the last of the world’s most perfect duck in red wine sauce, and I’m still waiting for them to tell me the real reason behind this whole evening.
“Best meal I’ve ever had,” I say, setting my cloth napkin over my plate. “Please tell Gretna that whenever she’s ready to accept my shameless bribery, I’ll be happy to welcome her into my service.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Stefan says.
He knows I’ve tried countless times to woo his personal chef, but so far, I haven’t been successful. Seems like my charms are more effective on women in the 18–35 age bracket. Not that I’m complaining.
“We’re so glad you liked it,” Tori says sweetly. “And I know Stefan appreciates seeing you outside the office. But there’s actually another reason we invited you over.”
And there it is.
“We’ll discuss it shortly in the living room,” Stefan says. It’s more of a command than an invitation. Typical. My brother is what you might call a control freak.
“Sounds great,” I say, trying my best to mean it. “I’ll meet you in there.”
Tori flashes a little smile as she and Stefan rise and begin gathering up the dishes.
My sister-in-law and I had friction when we first met—which I admit was mostly on me. I was too caught up in my manwhoring ways to respect Stefan’s arranged marriage, and I crossed the line with Tori more than once, figuring I’d have a taste of her just like any other woman I set my sights on. In hindsight, I regret how I acted. Tori isn’t just good for my brother, she’s great.
While they clear the table, I move to the couch and mull over the last few months. What could Stefan have to talk to me about? Ever since our father went to jail and Stefan took over KZ Modeling—now renamed Danica Rose Management, in memory of our mother—I’ve shown up every day at the agency, on time and with a can-do attitude, quote unquote.
I still go out to the clubs, but after a brief stint at AA—where I realized that as much as I was using alcohol as a crutch, I didn’t actually need it to survive—my drinking is under control. Hell, I haven’t even been sleeping with that many women. The fact is, the more energy I’ve put into my job, the less I’ve been able to put into all my former bad habits. I’m practically a new man—and it’s been pretty fucking boring.
But I know it’s for the best.
In my new executive role, I audition, sign, and manage talent. On top of that, I also unofficially maintain our client roster, aka schmooze my ass off. Phone calls, dinners, drinks, networking events—I’ve been there every step of the way, reassuring everyone of DRM’s commitment to integrity and transparency, making sure our models keep getting booked.
After a very public fall from grace, I’ve fought tooth and nail to get the agency—and myself—back on track. So if Stefan thinks he’s about to fire me or demote me so he can fill my executive position with someone more experienced, he’s got another thing coming.
He and Tori suddenly bustle back out with overly toothy smiles, Tori carrying a black and gold inlaid tray that holds a glass carafe of coffee, sugar and cream, and three mugs.
“Should we have an after-dinner coffee?” she chirps. “It’s decaf Ospina, ground fresh. Stefan said it’s your favorite.”
“Three-hundred-dollar coffee beans?” I say. “Now I know you two are up to no good.”
“It’s not a bribe,” Stefan says, but judging by the clench of his jaw and the stress lines on his forehead, it isn’t safe for me to relax just yet.
I savor the aroma after Tori passes me a cup and then take a long, satisfying sip. To be honest, I’d prefer the standard after-dinner brandy, but I appreciate them respecting my new limit of two drinks per week—and I’d rather be 100% sober if this conversation goes sour.
“All right, out with it,” I say, eyeing them as they sit across from me in their matching leather chairs. “I’ve been expecting the worst since you two invited me over. Just say it.”
They exchange another glance, and Tori gives my brother a slight nod.
“Fair enough.” Stefan leans forward, clears his throat, and says, “The truth is, the business is…frankly, in an unstable position.”
“I’m aware,” I say coolly. “Dad’s in jail for trafficking, half our models will be testifying against him, and the whole world knows he
used the agency as a cover to pimp them out. That’s why I’ve been putting in so much overtime to right the ship. I assume you’ve noticed—”
“You’ve done amazing work for DRM,” he says, cutting me off. “That’s not the issue.”
I frown. “Then what is it?”
“I’ll just give it to you straight, Luka. Our first quarter P&L was ugly, and this quarter looks worse. We’re in the red. I’ve been paying employee salaries out of my own pocket.”
“What?” I sputter.
“I’m trying to tell you, the business isn’t sustainable,” Stefan goes on. “If the company can’t improve its reputation—and fast—we’re going to sink.”
I let out a breath, my mind blown. This job was supposed to be the start of my new life. A chance to finally prove myself. And now it’s all about to crumble.
Finally, I say, “How do we keep Danica Rose from shutting down?”
By now, Stefan has calmed himself. He’s back in his chair with Tori holding his hand.
“It’s going to take a huge act of goodwill to convince the public we’re not monsters,” he muses. “We can’t erase the past.”
It’s no secret that the reason the press and social media have condemned us is because of what our father did. I’ve done my best to combat that, but even with all my schmoozing and my fancy MBA, rescuing a business from a major public downfall is a huge mountain to climb—and I’m still learning as I go. I’d never been involved in running the agency like Stefan was.
But after Dad’s arrest, I told my brother I was committed to the family business. Since then, Stefan has made it clear that co-CEO is in my future if I roll up my sleeves and work hard, quit drinking, and stop fucking around. So that’s what I’ve done. Apparently, it wasn’t enough.
“So what’s our move?” I ask. My coffee tastes bitter now. It’s growing cool in my cup.
“We’re going to take control of the narrative,” Tori says confidently.
“Control the narrative,” I repeat, nodding. “Okay. So we give the media a new story to chew on. Something to redirect their attention and make us look human again. I’m all in.”
“We’re so glad to hear that,” Tori says, giving me an encouraging smile.
Like I said, I wasn’t so sure about her when she’d first come into my older brother’s life via arranged marriage. Who even did that kind of thing anymore? I almost shudder.
Admittedly, though, it seems to be working for him. He’s changed, and I can’t even say anything bad about it. Tori has made him a more level-headed, calmer version of himself. Still, there’s no way in hell you’d catch me shacking up with an arranged wife. Or any wife, for that matter. I enjoy a variety of pussy too much to settle down.
“Okay. A new story. Let me think.” I spread my hands. “How about a few social media ads with our models, talking about how we launched their careers? Maybe I can organize a photo shoot with some of our new diverse models cuddling pets from the local animal shelter. Everyone loves puppies. Or get our employees to do some publicized community service?”
Stefan shakes his head. “No. We need to focus on you.”
“Me? Why?”
He glances at Tori, and she sets her cup down and clasps her hands.
“It isn’t just the agency’s reputation that’s the problem…” She offers a gentle smile. “It’s yours. The media’s been crucifying you lately—”
“They’re assholes,” I can’t help myself from interjecting. “I can’t walk out the door without a camera in my face, and half the time they’re slapping made-up headlines over photos of me getting blackout drunk from a year ago—”
“They hate you,” Stefan agrees. “We’ve all done our best to rebrand, but you seem hell-bent on keeping the Zoric image in the gutter.”
“That’s not fair.” I lean forward, my anger rising. “I can’t be the only twenty-five-year-old who likes to visit the occasional strip club on the weekends or bring a couple women home from the club to f—” Stefan clears his throat. “To entertain,” I finish.
“But you’re the only one who works for a company formerly run by a sex trafficker. And it’s public knowledge that you slept with half the models. It’s not a good look,” he points out harshly. “The last headline I saw called you a sex- and money-hungry monster, following in the footsteps of the fallen Zoric patriarch—”
“So what, then? Are you trying to fire me?” I say, tapping my finger impatiently against my coffee cup. “Look, I do what I want. The media doesn’t like it? That’s their problem.”
Stefan practically jumps to his feet. “It’s not, though, Luka. It’s our problem.”
There’s nothing I can say because I know he’s right. I throw back the rest of my lukewarm coffee as if it’s the drink I so desperately want right now.
“Luka,” Tori interjects softly. “You’re the most notorious playboy in Chicago. We know you’ve changed, but the public needs to see a bigger effort.”
I lean back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize I was the agency’s poster boy. How nice to suddenly realize that I alone am the entire face of our family business.”
“You’re the Executive VP of Talent, and a Zoric who’s unfortunately grown up in the public eye. Of course you’re a face of this business,” Stefan says. “Take this seriously. Please.”
Suddenly, it hits me like a physical blow: he’s disappointed in me. Until our father’s criminal activity blew up, no one in the family had taken much time to be disappointed, or anything else, in me. Their approval never really mattered.
Until now.
My mother died when I was only four, and my father was such a textbook workaholic that my siblings and I were raised by a series of nannies. Even as a kid Stefan was defiant and ill-behaved, and our little sister Emzee was the baby, but our nannies always said I was a perfect angel—I learned pretty early on how to get what I wanted from a woman. They spoiled me rotten. As a result, I grew up doing whatever the hell I wanted, with few consequences.
By the time I hit my teenage years, I had realized that there wasn’t a screw-up horrible enough to make my father notice me. Didn’t matter if I slept with Emzee’s babysitters, crashed one of Dad’s Porsches into a hedge, or drained the entire contents of the liquor cabinet. I was invisible. So the way things are now—going from being mostly ignored, to suddenly being weighed down by expectations and responsibilities—has been an uncomfortable transition. I’m not opposed to doing what’s right for my family, but they could cut me a fucking break.
My shoulders sag a little, and I rest my forearms on my knees. “I’m barely drinking, but if you want, I’ll quit dating so much. Won’t be seen with as many random women.”
I’ve cut back on my one-night stands, and certainly none of the women I’ve been out with recently have been connected to our modeling agency in any way. Even I had the sense to realize I couldn’t keep fucking the models after what my father did.
Tori takes a sip of her coffee and catches my eye. “We need to seem family-oriented. A clean, stable corporation.”
Relief washes over me. That’s easy. “Fine, then you two have a baby. The public loves babies. See if you can shoot for twins or triplets, yeah? Problem solved. We done here?”
I start to rise, but my brother’s voice stops me cold. “Sit down.”
Stefan looks to the ceiling, his jaw tensing, and Tori frowns and says, “We’re not going to have a kid just to fix the agency’s PR status. Besides, we still have our hands full adjusting to Max and Anya’s role in our lives.”
Finding out she had a seven-year-old half sibling was a shock for Tori, and she’s been slowly integrating Max and his mother (Stefan’s ex-girlfriend, if you can believe that) into her life. She puts up a hand to give me pause as if she knows what I might say next. “And we’ve already exploited as much positive PR as we can from that. We don’t want overkill.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” I say. “But you’re both looking at me l
ike you want me to do something. You’re crazy if you think I’m having a baby. And don’t even suggest I get a dog, or I’ll know you’ve both gone off the deep end.”
Tori and Stefan look at each other and I get the sudden feeling like I’d better hang on tight to something.
“We had something a little more demonstrative in mind,” Tori says sweetly.
“Like what?”
Tori clears her throat, then shoots my brother a pointed look.
Stefan looks me square in the eye. “You need to get married.”
Brooklyn
Chapter 1
I never thought I’d get this chance again.
My black stilettos clip loudly on the floor as I stride into Danica Rose Management, formerly known as KZ Modeling. It feels surreal that I made it to these offices. I had a chance to audition with them three years ago, but that opportunity quickly turned into a disaster and I never went through with it. So when a friend told me about this latest call, I booked an immediate flight from LA to Chicago. No way am I missing another stab at making my dreams come true.
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