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Piper

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I look at my new watch. I’ve been here for a little more than two hours, but it feels like twelve. I’ve only ever had to do this twice before and both of those times, I had a professor next to me to guide me through the process.

I’m on my own this time. I’m the one teaching the art class, so it’s up to me to prepare everything associated with it.

That includes finding nude models.

You’d think the interview process would be fun.

It’s not.

I’ve seen more pictures of naked cocks and breasts this evening than I care to remember.

Right now, I’m trying not to make eye contact with a man who is hotter than most nude models I’ve ever come across. That’s not surprising since his most recent day job consists of modeling for a newly launched underwear line.

“I’ll need you for three hours two evenings a week, Rufus.” I look over his impressive portfolio on the tablet in front of me. He emailed me the link after the resource center at a local art school sent me his details.

They had a list of models that had posed for classes in the past. I need a model. It was Bridget who suggested I contact them since she has found a few portrait models through them.

“Does the pay I quoted in the email work for you?” I finally look up at his face.

“It works.” He flashes me a killer smile.

“I have a standard contract for you to look over and if you’re comfortable with it, we can start next Monday.”

“Monday works and I’ll sign anything you need me to. I’m saving for a vacation in Hawaii.”

I instantly picture a nude beach with dozens of muscular blue-eyed, blond-haired men that look like him playing volleyball.

“You’re free to go,” I say with a grin.

“Cool.” He stands and extends a hand toward me. “It was good to meet you, Piper. I think we’ll work well together.”

I shake his hand. Since he’ll be frozen in place while I’m guiding my students on the finer points of drawing the human form, he’s probably right. We will work well together if he can stay still and not flirt with every woman in the class.

“So, I’ll catch you on Monday?” he asks as he shoulders the navy blue backpack he brought with him. “You’ll email me the contract before then?”

“Monday it is and I’ll email the contract to you tomorrow.”

“I’m stoked.” He looks around the almost empty room that I’ll transform into a studio for students. “I think we’re going to make magic in here.”

That’s wishful thinking. All I’m hoping for is that a group of people will show up with a passion for art that runs as deep as mine.

***

Until now, I haven’t understood the appeal of man in a three-piece suit. Specifically, a man in a gray three-piece suit with a black dress shirt and a gray patterned tie.

I’ve never been attracted to corporate types. All of the men I’ve been involved with have had a passion for creativity. I always believed that the pull toward them stemmed from our mutual interest in the arts or their laid-back style.

Griffin Kent has neither of those, but I can’t take my eyes off of him.

He’s standing near an open office door talking to a woman with long black hair. Her back is to me and his eyes are pinned to her face. A twinge of envy rolls through me. I wish to hell he was looking at me with the same intensity in his gaze.

My sole purpose when I came to the offices of Kent & Colt today was to return the forty dollars that Griffin’s assistant, Joyce, loaned me.

Since no one is at the reception desk, I’ve been standing next to it, eyeing up Griffin since he stepped out of one of the offices with the dark-haired woman. He has yet to notice me staring at him. I’m grateful for that.

I thought I’d hand Joyce the cash and be out of here in thirty seconds flat. That’s why I’m wearing ripped jeans, a gray University of Denver T-shirt and a wrinkled black blazer I found at the bottom of my suitcase as I was unpacking more of my stuff this morning.

At least I straightened my hair and brushed my teeth.

My plan today was to stay home so I could work on the lesson plan for my class. When my dad called me an hour ago to ask if I was still alive and if I needed any cash to make ends meet, it dawned on me that I hadn’t paid Joyce back.

I was dressed and on the subway within fifteen minutes headed here.

I now wish I had used the number she gave me and called her before I left my place. If I had done that, I wouldn’t be standing here looking like a lost puppy.

My gaze scans the reception desk for an envelope. If I can find one, I’ll shove the two twenty dollar bills inside and address it to Joyce from me. She’ll know exactly what it is.

“If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll point you in the right direction.”

There’s no mistaking that deep, raspy voice. I know exactly who it belongs to. I look up to see Griffin approaching as the woman he was talking to turns to look right at me, disappointment washing over her expression. 

“Joyce,” I answer quickly. “I need to talk to Joyce.”

“About?” he questions with a raise of his eyebrow.

I deflect. “Is she here? Can you find her for me?”

The phone on the desk starts ringing but his gaze never leaves mine. “Why do need to talk to Joyce?”

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” I point at the phone.

“No.” His eyes drop to the front of my T-shirt. “My partner’s assistant will pick it up.”

As if on cue the phone stops mid-ring. I turn my attention back to him. “I came here to see Joyce.”

“She has the day off.” He shoves both of his hands into the front pockets of his pants. “It looks like you’ll need to settle for me.”