by Iris Blaire
"I've been keeping busy with modeling gigs."
Cam snorts. Mom and Dad don't seem to notice. I shoot a glare at my brother.
"Oh, modeling!" Mom puts on her impressed owl eyes. "Such a hard profession to get into."
Jaime shrugs. "I'm mostly doing it for myself," he says. "It's fun, and the opportunities are presenting themselves at this point in my life. Plus, small gigs add up." He takes a bite of his food, chews, and swallows. "They're helping me pay for my master's."
I nearly choke.
"Excellent," says Dad. "You saving up to apply, eventually?"
"No," Jaime says. "I'm studying economics next semester at UC San Diego. I already got in."
He's getting his masters. He already got in to a damn good school. And I didn't even know.
Dad's wearing a shit eating grin. He looks impressed, probably because Jaime's accomplishment is fucking impressive. Cam does not look impressed. He's squirming in his chair, glaring at his food. What the hell is wrong with him?
I finally speak up. "That's pretty amazing.”
Jaime rests his hand on my thigh. He slips beneath my dress, inching high and higher until he pauses to give my leg a squeeze. My breath hitches in my throat.
Luckily, nobody at the table seems to notice. Other than Jaime.
///
After dinner, we make nightcaps. I pour myself a fat glass of chardonnay and head upstairs to the outdoor balcony overlooking my parents' spectacular view of the valley. I never realized how excessive this house was until I was in college. When I was a kid, I was blinded by my parents’ money. I expected it. But after I let loose a bit, after I came to terms with the fact that I wasn't going to be able to be the person they wanted me to be, and therefore couldn't accept my inheritance, I started figuring out how to make my own way. And shit is expensive. Food, rent, the electric bill—even fucking Netflix adds up. Living is hard when you're not rich.
I lean against the balcony, and a breeze catches my hair. I can see just a sliver of the ocean from here. The ocean... now that would make for a kickass shoot.
The door clicks open behind me. It's Jaime. In his hand, he holds a scotch on the rocks.
"Star of the hour," I say.
Jaime rolls his eyes.
"It'll take my parents five minutes before they wonder where you've gone off to."
He grins. "Then we have five minutes." He walks to me, resting his elbows on the railing. The sunset is beautiful. California sunsets are always beautiful.
"UC San Diego, huh?"
He pauses before answering. "You gonna miss me or something?"
I shrug. "I'm going to miss having you as my bicurious model. I'll have to hire someone else to play with Adam."
He snorts. "That the only reason?"
I turn to meet his eyes. I don't know how long he's been looking at me instead of the sunset. "You'll still be in California."
"That I will," he says.
I want to ask him what that means about us... if it means anything. We aren't together now and never have been. We fool around because we both have a job that makes us incredibly horny. Hell, I should still be pissed at him for leaving me in Boston like a coward when I found out that he'd been fired.
But I can't find it in me to be mad. He's here now.
"It's going to be a shit-show when the models arrive," he says, breaking the silence.
"Tell me about it. Have to do real work while playing good little daughter for my parents, and that's not even including..." I trail of, thinking of Micah. I take two massive swallows of wine before speaking again. "I have to tell you something."
Not like it's any of Jaime's business, considering we aren't even really together, but I feel like I need to tell him that there's kind of another man in the picture now, even if our relationship is phonier than a three-dollar bill.
To my surprise, Jaime laughs. Hard. "I know Micah. Had a few exchanges with him when I worked for your dad. The guy's a little shit. I wouldn't be surprised if he was playing you, Brit."
I scowl. "What do you mean, playing me?"
"I mean luring you in with being his fake girlfriend to get into your pants."
"But I don't want him in my pants."
Jaime shrugs.
"I need that house for the shoot."
"You don't have to defend yourself." He takes a step forward, dark eyes boring into mine. He lifts his hand and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. "Although I do plan on attending some of those dinners myself to get on your daddy's good side, and watching you on his arm won't be the easiest thing for me to do."
His thumb is electric, and shivers race down my spine. "You won't be angry?"
The corner of his mouth perks up, but there's a hint of sadness on his face too. "Angry? At you? Like I have that right." He takes a step closer, and even though it's warm outside, I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "First of all, I left you. And second of all, I don't own you."
I love you. The words pass through my head like I've spoken them out loud. Do I love him? Does he deserve my love?
Despite his cocky attitude that I must admit is attractive as all hell, he treats me and looks at me like he respects me. Maybe my luck with men has been bad, but from my experiences, young guys rarely do that shit.
And every time Jaime's been in my bedroom this summer... while he loves to play with me, I am not his plaything. He hasn't asked for anything back.
Wild and passionate feelings for Jaime are stirring inside of me, way more vibrant than before. Even in Boston. I want him, even though so many aspects of our lives want to demean our relationship.
The door behind us creaks open. I jump back from Jaime and turn, expecting to find Mom or Dad coming to find where Jaime, their guest, went off to, but it's Cam. "Brit, you mind if I talk to Jaime alone for a bit?"
I nod, and my brother steps out onto the balcony, downing the finger of scotch in his glass in one gulp.
I leave the balcony and shut the door when I'm inside, but don't move right away. Instead, I listen closely to their voices, but all I can hear is low mumbling. At least no one is raising their voice. I hope they're making amends, no matter what happened that ended their friendship.
I need Cam on both mine and Jaime's side if I am going to survive these next couple of weeks.
CHAPTER SIX
The day my models show up, I'm so nervous I can't do anything. I can't focus on my agenda. Can't answer emails. Can't eat, can't sleep. Can't piss.
I pace my room.
Mom and Dad are having everyone over for an early dinner tonight before we all head over to Micah's beach house. The thought of my employees mingling with my parents is causing my afternoon to be filled with a year's worth of anxiety.
I haven't seen Jaime since the dinner. I haven't confronted Cam about what happened between the two of them when Jaime got fired, and if they sorted it out on the balcony. I'm too afraid of what he'll say.
After spending the majority of the day pacing my room and checking my watch, I decide to find Cam. The models are arriving in three hours, and I need my brother's help.
I find him lounging by the pool drinking a Corona. When I approach, he flips open the cooler next to him and motions to the floating beers inside.
"Jesus," I say, grabbing one. "Plan on getting hammered?"
"I got a month off work and nothing to do except model watch."
I sit next to him. "About that... I need you to be cool, Cam."
"What are you talking about? I'm cool."
"I need you to help me." I tell him about my deadline and how I have to shoot an entire storybook here in Malibu. His reaction is very similar to Jaime's... he cracks up.
"So you need me to cover for you with Mom and Dad so you can shoot porn."
"Essentially."
"What do I get in return?"
"The badge of knowing you're not an ass."
He scoffs.
"I'll also let you sit in on some of the shoots if you promise n
ot to be a creep about it."
"How could I possibly be a creep?" He sounds offended.
"No hitting on models. No drooling. No jacking off."
"Brit." He rests a hand on my shoulder. "You don't give me enough credit. Plus, you being in the room is like... instant boner-kill."
I blanch. "Gross."
He smirks. A few seconds of silence pass between us, and I know it's time to bring up Jaime. "You guys make amends on the balcony the other night?"
Cam sighs and takes a huge gulp of beer. "We're working on it."
"He's still one of my models. You know that, right?"
Cam raises an eyebrow. "He made sure that I was aware."
The way he says it leaves me wondering exactly what Jaime told him. Luckily for me, Cam continues. "It's weird to think that you've seen him buck-ass naked."
So he doesn't know that we've screwed. Well, that's good. Probably a secret I'd like to keep from Cam forever, or at least as long as he and Jaime are still on the rocks.
"I saw him buck-ass naked before he started modeling for me, dude. Remember when I caught him banging Rachel on the couch?"
Cam chuckles. "Oh yeah."
"Listen," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "I need you to at least pretend to be on perfect terms with him."
Cam frowns. "Why?"
"I need him for the shoots. Mom and Dad are going to think it weird that Jaime’s constantly hanging out with us every time they invite my friends over for dinner, which I'm sure will be more than once."
"Please, not the way they were fawning over him the other night."
"Cam..."
He rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine."
"Britain!"
I jump up and spin toward the voice. I'd know it anywhere. And there Evan is, standing by the sliding glass doors with Dallas at her side. She's already dressed for California—I can tell she misses it. A low-slung sundress that fits her flawlessly, big sunglasses, and a wide-brimmed straw hat.
I scream.
She screams.
We run to each other, waving our hands in the air like lunatics. She jumps into my arms, near-sobbing.
"What the fuck?" I hear Dallas say. "I never get that kind of greeting."
I drop Evan, and she turns to her boyfriend. "That's because Britain is my first love. Sorry baby."
I stick my tongue out at Dallas.
"Good to see you too, boss."
"I thought you guys weren't supposed to arrive for another couple of hours."
"We were supposed to wait for the others to fly in and then split a cab," says Evan. "But I couldn't wait. So fuck 'em."
"That's my girl."
I introduce Dallas and re-introduce Evan to Cam. I can tell Cam's trying to keep cool and collected as he shakes Evan's hand. Cam owns every copy of EPE, and has the biggest crush on Rylan Willow, Evan's alter-ego. He's totally star struck right now, just like the last time he saw her.
"Keep it in your pants," I say out loud in attempt to embarrass him.
His eyes widen and he suddenly drops Evan’s hand like it turned into molten lava. "Shut the fuck up, Brit!"
Evan giggles.
Mom and Dad have joined us outside. Mom is flushed and beaming, probably because she's had too much to drink already. And also because Mom is biased toward beautiful people. It's kind of fucked-up, to be honest. She hardly even knows Evan and Dallas, and I already can tell that both of them could get away with murder in this house and she would happily clean it up with Clorox.
"You kids want anything? Sangria, tequila, wine?"
"This?" Cam holds up a Corona.
"YES." Dallas practically gets off at the sight of the beer, taking it from Cam. "Cheers."
When Mom leaves to get a bottle of white wine for me and Evan, I get Dallas and Evan up-to-date on where we are going to be shooting... and why.
This is the first time that Cam is hearing the truth too, even though I think he had an idea that something fishy was going on between me and Micah Greene. Cam laughs, and Evan raises an eyebrow.
"A beach house to shoot at in exchange for a fake girlfriend..." Dallas ponders. "Well, it's not like he's asking you to screw him."
I nod in agreement, but Evan says, "I don't like it," and crosses her arms. "I don't like that you have to be thrown into this weird agreement for the sake of the shoots. Your parents offered to house us, right? We should just have it here."
If I had a drink, I'd spit it out all over her.
As if Cam didn't have a big enough boner for her already. He grins wickedly, eyes darting between me and Evan.
"It'll be fun!" she says innocently. "I think it'll add some excitement, shooting erotica in secret. Your parents' house is massive. They'll never catch us."
"They still have no idea what I do for a living. When they find out, which they will, I don't want them finding photos of their house in my magazine and then threatening to sue me or some shit."
"They wouldn't," says Evan skeptically.
Two housekeepers file out onto the patio with trays of appetizers. My parents must have hired the whole team to work tonight. Mom follows them outside, waving the bottle of wine gleefully. "This is a good year! You girls will love it!"
"Oh, they would," says Cam beneath his breath.
Evan sighs happily as Mom pours her a glass of chardonnay that's probably costs more than Evan's and Dallas's cab ride from the airport.
"Shouldn't we be like, paying your parents for the dinner and the bottle of wine that's probably worth more than my right kidney?" Evan mutters to me when Mom leaves.
I shake my head. "This is a drop in the bucket. Also, they kind of forced this to happen, which makes my life more difficult, so they deserve to pay for everything."
Evan's eyes practically bug out of her head. I know that look. It's a I-didn't-know-you-were-this-rich look.
"Hey, Mom," Cam calls. Mom, who’s standing at the other end of the pool, turns around. "Jaime will be over later."
Mom grins and nods. She thinks Cam and Jaime have made up, which makes her happy, considering how impressed with Jaime she was at dinner the other night. It’s terrifying how quickly she can go from hating someone to being impressed with them.
She heads back into the house, and I mouth a thank you to Cam.
When the rest of my models start arriving with their luggage, Mom and Dad look like they've hit the jackpot. Britain hangs out with a bunch of gorgeous college graduates, they're probably thinking. Which means that, of course, I'm going to be successful in life.
My parents are so superficial.
Adam and Delilah are the last two to arrive by cab. To my surprise, Adam is dressed immaculately. His hair is combed back, and he ushers Delilah across the patio on his arm, like he's at fucking prom or something.
My parents and Cam introduce themselves to everyone. The lie is that we all met during a volunteer project on campus, one they have running regularly for students who need to clock in volunteer hours for classes. My parents make sure appetizers and hors d’oeuvres are spread out on all flat surfaces and everyone has a drink in their hands before they start asking questions.
"So," Mom begins, hands clasped in front of her excitedly. "Some of you must be in sororities and fraternities, right?"
Some of my models glance around at each other, while others grin uncomfortably. Truth is, while they all look like they belong in sororities and fraternities, EPE never allowed them to have the time to. Plus, most sororities want to keep up a "tasteful" image and probably wouldn't even let my girls in if they wanted to join.
Delilah breaks the uncomfortable silence. "School was too demanding," she says, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. "I'm glad I stuck to the books and studied hard."
Evan and I exchange looks. Pretty sure Delilah graduated with a two-point-eight, but I don't say anything. She's distracting my parents, and that's all I really care about right now.
The most awkward moment of the evening though is when Jaime arrives, and
everyone who just flew in has to pretend like they don't know him. He gives a short wave.
"Well, hello there," says Adam much too friendly, and I stomp on his foot.
"Everyone, this is Jaime," says Cam. "A friend of mine since elementary school."
That's when some of my models can't hide their surprised expressions. The only ones who knew that I knew Jaime prior to EPE was Evan, Delilah, and Dallas. "The plot thickens," Ella whispers behind me. Cam hears and chuckles. I shoot her a glare.
Finally, after what feels like hours of my parents handing out drinks and chatting with everyone, like they’re trying to learn the details of everyone's individual lives, I hint that we should probably be heading to the rental house.
"Oh, of course," says Mom. "We'll call you a cab."
When the sliding glass door closes behind them, I finally exhale. "Thank fucking God."
I get everyone organized for the cab, wishing that I could take a shot of tequila. Unfortunately, I have to play driver. When the cab arrives, I load up Jaime, Evan, Dallas, and Cam in my Jeep Cherokee. My brother is coming only because it would look suspicious if I took Jaime and not him too.
I text Micah on our way before punching his address into the GPS on my phone.
We've lived in our big Malibu house almost my entire life, and I know the streets of the area well. I make my way up the winding road leading to the cliffside houses, following the arrow of my GPS. Dallas and Evan are behind me, oohing and aahing excitedly at the outlandish and expensive estates we pass. Jaime sits in the front seat next to me, his hand on the armrest between us, fingers dangling into the cup holder. Like he's seeing if I will bite and hold his hand, even though Cam is sitting right behind us.
"I'm surprised your parents didn't throw a bitch fit when you bought this thing." Jaime knocks on the hood of my Cherokee.
"Oh, they did," I say. After a year of earnings from EPE, I bought my Cherokee from a used dealer and told my parents they could sell my three-year-old Lexus. They couldn't fathom why the hell I would do such a thing, when the truth was that I wanted something that I had earned, not some rich bitch's car that was given to me with Daddy's money. That was the only time Dad ever checked my inheritance. He thought I'd blown all of my money on drugs or something horrible. Which of course didn't make sense considering I didn't sell the Lexus, but gave it back to them.
