Chapter 8

Ava

I packed my books up in my bag and smiled at the professor as I walked out of the classroom. It had been one of the only classes I had without a typical final. I hurried to my car, needing to head over to the modeling agency. I had seen my agent calling when I was in class, but I couldn’t answer it. I sent him a text letting him know I was in class, and he asked me to come over to the office as soon as I was done. He usually told me my assignments over the phone, but I figured he might want to see if I was even interested in a gig he had. I didn’t take every offer they made—nor was I required to—just the ones that were worth my time.

I drove through traffic, eating a pretzel I had picked up on the way out. I looked like hell, having gone to class in a sweatshirt and jeans, but that shouldn’t matter. They had my headshots. The firm was medium-sized and great since they were willing to work with me on how I took clients. I didn’t want to be the model pushed into nudity, so I stayed away from the small firms, and the big ones were out of my reach. They were for career models and actors, and I was not going to be doing that for the rest of my life. When I got there, they sent me right up to the office, but I paused as I entered, seeing Mason sitting in a chair in front of my agent’s desk.

“Ava,” my agent said. “Please, have a seat.”

I didn’t move from my spot. I was stuck staring at Mason. Why the hell would he be at my agent’s office asking for me? My blood started to boil, and I tried to calm myself down before speaking.

“What is going on?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Please, sit,” my agent said, not noticing my anger.

I thought I had made it very clear when I stormed out of my last gig that I didn’t want to see Mason. I thought bolting from the place at full speed and leaving out the back door would be a good clue that I had nothing to say to Mason and didn’t want him in my life. Apparently, along with shaving his beard and cutting his hair, he’d developed a pig-headed stubbornness. God knew he had the clout behind him to find me and make this meeting happen. Why, though? Why would he want to talk to me?

“Thanks for coming in on short notice,” my agent said, smiling at me.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to change after class,” I said, looking down at the mustard on my sweatshirt from the pretzel I had eaten. “You said it was urgent, so I headed over instead of driving back to Brooklyn first.”

“No problem.” He smiled. “Mr. York has seen your work in the past and has a copy of your headshots, so he knows your abilities. You have been hired for a new ad campaign for the string of hotels and resorts that his father owns.”

I slowly turned my head toward him, forcing my mouth to stay closed. I was trying desperately to hold back the anger I was feeling. Mason smiled at me and nodded.

“We will be doing a one-day shoot,” he said. “We think you would be perfect for it.”

I couldn’t speak, I was so livid, and my stomach churned just thinking about it. How dare he come in here and request that I do anything for his father? I gripped the arms of the chair, trying to hold my emotions steady. I didn’t want my agent to see my outrage. In his eyes, I was being offered a gig by one of the richest companies in the city, and for him, all he could see was green. For me, though, all I could see was red, and I could have strangled Mason for putting me in this position. But he knew what he was doing. He knew I wouldn’t freak out on him in front of my agent. I may pay them, but they had every right to fire me if I fucked up something like this.

“Brian,” I said, looking at my agent sweetly. “It’s finals time right now. You know I try not to take gigs during finals time. Besides, you have an entire book of gorgeous women who could do this project some real justice. Can’t you have one of them take care of this for Mr. York?”

I clenched my teeth together as I said his name, almost laughing nervously as I sat there staring at him. My agent looked at me like I was nuts for a moment and then cleared his throat and shuffled some papers on his desk. It was obvious he felt I was embarrassing him, but Mason knew exactly how I would react to his offer.

“Mr. York has taken a look through all the books,” he said. “I knew it was finals time for you, so we tried to find someone who would suit his needs. However, he has requested you specifically and has no interest in any of our other models. If you decline the contract, he will take it to another company. We would never want to see that happen, so it all rides on your shoulders, my dear.”

I took in a deep breath and looked at Mason and his smug grin. My agent looked at me knowingly, pretty much telling me I had no choice but to take the gig. I was still completely against it, and I wasn’t sure anything would change my mind.

“You will be paid twelve thousand dollars for a two-hour shoot,” my agent said. “Now that would be silly to give up. That is top modeling-agency pay.”

Wow. Mason was so desperate to get close to me that he would pay twelve thousand dollars to have me near him for two hours. I could really use the money, especially with the new semester coming up and the payments that would be coming in. My parents could use the money too. I had seen the late notices on the kitchen counter when I was there last time. But how could I take that money from Mason? It was the same as if it were coming right from the hands of his father. The only way I wanted money from his father was when I took him to court and demolished him. I sighed, not knowing what to do.

“The shoot will be easy,” Mason said. “We provide everything. You just show up. We will abide by all requests from your file on the clothing and have food set up for you so you can make sure to get some breakfast when you get there. You still like the blueberry pancakes from that diner on Seventh, right?”

I looked over at my agent, who looked back at me curiously, not knowing I knew the York family. I laughed nervously and fiddled with my bag. Finally, I’d had enough. There was no way I was going to be able to turn down Mason and this job. I stood up from my chair and nodded my head.

“I’ll do it for twenty-four grand,” I said.

“Ava,” my agent said with a laugh, “you can’t just negotiate a contract like this.”

I stared at Mason, who chuckled to himself. He held his hand up in the air to stop my agent from talking. He tilted his head to the side and looked at me, knowing I was playing hardball. I almost felt like it excited him.

“Done,” he said. “Twenty-four thousand dollars for a two-hour shoot.”

“When and where?” I said, feeling excitement rise and fall in my chest.

“Berkshire Studios on the corner of Eighth and Independence,” he said. “Instead of breakfast, let’s make it tomorrow evening instead.”

“Fine,” I said. “My agent can send the contract to the studio, and I’ll sign it there.”

I turned without looking at my agent and walked out of the office. I stared straight ahead as I climbed into the elevator. When the doors slid shut, I leaned against the wall and put my head back, breathing deeply. I had never been so tense in my life. If the gig was for anyone other than the Yorks, I would have been absolutely ecstatic that I was doing the highest-paying gig of my career. But the excitement was squashed by the thought of doing anything for them. I had really gotten myself into it this time.