I'll Never Stop, page 3
I’d learned in my profession that beauty on the outside didn’t equate to attractiveness on the inside. My first lesson was thanks to the man sitting beside me. And then Hollywood just kept churning out more examples the longer I was in the business.
“Is this when I tell you to take a picture because it’ll last longer?” Finn said about fifteen minutes into our drive. We hadn’t said one word since we’d walked out of the agency building together, aside from him pointing out we’d now use the company car and then to verify my schedule.
The company car was some luxury SUV. Honestly, I couldn’t care less about cars. You’d be surprised how little I actually cared about material things. I’m not saying I didn’t have expensive stuff in my home or that my clothes didn’t boast pretty hefty price tags, but I didn’t care if it was a name brand. If it cost five bucks and was cute, I bought it. On the flip side, if it cost one-thousand dollars, but I liked it, I got it too. I knew I was lucky that I didn’t have to watch what I spent. I didn’t take that for granted, believe me. I was in awe each time I walked into my home or looked at all the accessories I had. I also knew I’d be just as happy making pennies too.
I wasn’t a model because I craved the fame. I was a model because my self-esteem needed the glory that came with it. Being a model, by default, meant the world thought you were beautiful. Of course, there were exceptions to the rule, but overall, it was my self-conscious giving Finn and all his friends a big fat “fuck you.”
I didn’t admit that to myself until much later. At first, I just sort of fell into it. But really, when Dorian found me that first day and started telling me about it, I wanted to believe I was something special. I wanted to believe I was pretty enough.
I kept doing it because it helped to fill the void inside me just a little. And a little was better than nothing. I’d never seen myself as ugly before that day Finn and his friends played me. I’d always been a plain Jane but never ugly. That day, though…that day changed it all for me. And no matter how beautiful I felt ever since, no matter how many times fans yelled they loved me, or how many guys looked at me like I was their next meal…I’d never truly feel beautiful deep down.
And this fucking asshole next to me—the very reason for my lack of self-confidence—had an assurance that rivaled every diva combined.
“You’re so used to women staring at you with lust that you can’t even recognize when someone is giving you the evil eye,” I told him.
“Evil eye? What the hell is that shit?” he asked, turning to me for a moment before his eyes went back to the road.
“It’s like a mental voodoo doll,” I answered.
“What? I’m going to feel a sharp pain in my side all of a sudden?” he asked sarcastically.
“It’s more like I am projecting my hate on you so that bad things will happen to you.”
“I don’t believe in that shit.”
“Doesn’t matter whether you believe it. It doesn’t even matter if it’s true,” I said with a shrug. “The point is that’s what’s happening here.”
“Keep telling yourself you weren’t checking me out.”
“Ugh,” I said in frustration, a habit I hadn’t been able to break since I was a kid. I even caught myself throwing my arms up sometimes just like they do in the cliché movies. I saw Finn’s lips quirk up a bit, and I scowled. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Yeah, I am. I can show you later too.”
“You’re also a pig.”
“I can get down and dirty.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“And you have a smart-ass mouth,” he countered.
“What? Not used to women speaking up?”
“Not used to women hating me on sight,” he said.
“I didn’t.” In fact, I loved you the minute I saw you. It wasn’t until you broke my heart and humiliated me that I hated you. And that hate has fueled my life ever since. Or rather, my need to prove myself to you. But of course, I’ll never tell you that.
“It sure seemed like it to me,” he said. Of course it would because the asshole didn’t even remember me. He screwed with my life, made me the butt of a joke, and didn’t even remember who the hell I was.
“I just don’t like assholes who expect women to fall at their feet.”
We’d just pulled up to the station, so he put the car in park before turning to face me. It was unfair how beautifully handsome he was. Assholes shouldn’t be allowed to look that good. Though that was probably why they felt confident enough to act like said assholes. “Listen, princess, all I did was walk into the room before you turned into some crazy person and stormed out. So yeah, you hate me on sight. It’s all good, though. I’ve seen your kind, and I ain’t too keen on it either. So that hate will go both ways.”
“Obviously, you’d see it that way,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I have to go.”
“Well, then, let’s go.”
He escorted me to the interview, where, thanks to him, I was distracted. But I was also a professional, so I did all right. If this first forty minutes together was any indication of how it would be with Finn as my bodyguard…well, then, shit…just shit.
Finn
I’D KNOWN ELIZA now for just a few hours, and she was a walking contradiction. I now fully understood the meaning of “if looks could kill.” Guess that was what she meant by “evil eye,” whatever the hell that shit was. After the radio interview, she had meetings with various companies. Boring shit that I just stood by and listened to, trying to glean information that might prove interesting.
So why was she a walking contradiction? She was a bitch to the nth power when it came to me. Her snarky comments and quite entertaining banter seemed directed only at me. She was courteous, well-mannered, and, dare I say, nice to everyone we met with that day. Made sense, I guess, since they paid her salary. Don’t shit where you eat and all. In other words, can’t be a bitch to the people making you money.
I was just some low-level scum to her.
Fake. That was what she was.
She stopped and took the time to talk to her fans. She took pictures, signed autographs, and smiled the entire time. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d say it was rare to give so much attention to the massive number of people she saw that day. But as I said, they paid her salary. Well, not directly, but without fans, she didn’t have a job, and without a job, she had no money.
“Is it always like this?” I asked when the day was finally over, and she announced she was just going to stay in for the rest of the night. It was only around five in the evening, but I could see she was exhausted, so I believed her.
“No,” she told me. “I mean, I have downtime. I get to sit home and read a book and watch mindless TV. If I don’t have meetings, shoots, interviews, I get to do my own thing.”
“But what about the fans?” I asked as she clearly hadn’t understood my original question.
“Sometimes they don’t see me,” she told me. “But when they do, yeah, they come out in mass amounts.”
“What if you have to get somewhere?” I asked, genuinely curious how she used to handle this without a bodyguard. My job was to escort her where she needed to be, including time management with her fans.
“I just tell them that I’m sorry and I have to go. If you’re nice, they understand. Sad sometimes, sure, but I’m only human. There is only so much I can do. If I could, I’d give them all my time. But then I wouldn’t get any work done.”
I was surprised by her answer, but I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t seen her be rude to her fans, but somehow, I had expected a different response, one that showcased the bitchy attitude she’d been giving me all day…speaking of which.
“Holy shit. Look at that, we had a civil conversation,” I announced.
“It’s been a long day,” she said. “Call it a lapse in judgment.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“I’m just speaking the truth, asshole.”
“You know, they say nicknames are a sign of love,” I tossed out, commenting on her use of “asshole” as a way to address me.
“Then you must truly love me,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Princess?” she said as a form of a question.
She had me there. I’d dug my own hole. “Nah,” I said, finding my way out. “That’s an observation, not a nickname. You keep acting like a spoiled princess.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, a fire sparking in her eyes. “Do tell. When have I acted like one? When I answered every question thrown at me on air? Or when I went from meeting to meeting like it was no big deal? Or how about when I spent time with fans? Princess then?”
“You’re not fooling me with your act. You forget I work for you, right? You can say I’m your employee of sorts. And you’ve been nothing short of hostile toward me all day. So, yeah, princess, I don’t buy the bullshit you’re selling.”
“Maybe I’m me with everyone else. And with you, I’m something different.”
“What makes me so special?” I asked.
“Maybe one day you’ll understand, but that day won’t be today.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “Absolutely nothing. You’re right. I’m a spoiled princess, and everything I do is an act. You see the real me.” She’d agreed with me, but for some reason, the words out of her mouth rang false. I was trained in many things, one of which was weeding out the truth, but with Eliza, I honestly couldn’t fucking tell. I blamed it on my dick. Because no matter how much I hated her, I thoroughly enjoyed fighting with her. “Look, I’m tired, and we have another long day tomorrow. I’m staying in tonight, so you’re free to go home.”
“If you need me, you have my number,” I told her. “And I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning from here,” I said, motioning to her home. It was more modest than I would have imagined, at least from the outside. A one-story home with a nice little garden in front in a good neighborhood, but it wasn’t the “richest.”
“Yeah,” she muttered before she got out of the car. I watched her walk into her home before I drove off.
And damned if I didn’t think of that smart-ass mouth or those luscious hips all the way back to my place…and then some.
Eliza
“THIS IS SO unfair,” I whined to Anna and Sam. I’d called them the minute I’d stepped through the door and proceeded to update them on how the day had gone.
“Let me get this straight,” Anna started. “Not only did you not get him removed as your bodyguard but you almost apologized to him?”
“Please don’t remind me,” I said.
“And now you guys have to spend almost every day together?” Sam asked.
“Yep, just about.”
“For how long?” she asked.
“Until the agency thinks I no longer need a bodyguard, or I get reassigned a different one.”
“What are the chances you won’t need one anymore?” Anna asked.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether I ever want to leave the house again. That or quit modeling.”
“No way, Finn is not taking away the one thing you love,” Anna announced.
“I didn’t say I was quitting, Anna. I just said that would be the only way the agency would back off.”
“At least there’s that,” she said dryly.
“How about we make him want to quit?”
“I’ve already been a grade A bitch to him,” I said. “And he just fought right back.”
“Be meaner.” This came from Sam and received a snort from Anna in response.
“I’m surprised Lizzy was even mean in the first place,” Anna replied.
“Hey, I can be mean,” I countered.
“No, Lizzy, you can’t. You can be strong, and you’ve learned not to let people step all over you. So yeah, I’ve seen and heard you chew out a few well-deserving folks. But you don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“And Finn certainly deserves it,” I replied.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “He does. And he deserves so much more, but I think you might be right, Anna. Lizzy won’t be mean enough to get him to quit unless provoked.”
“Well, she has to because he won’t quit otherwise,” Anna answered Sam.
“Oh, what if we dig up some dirt on him and threaten him until he agrees to leave?” Anna asked, but it sounded like she was talking to Sam.
“How are we going to do that?” Sam asked.
“Got me there,” Anna said.
“Uh, guys, I’m still here, you know.”
“Hush,” Sam said. “We’re trying to solve this for you.”
“So, what do I do?” I asked, waiting for their solution. “Be a bigger bitch?”
“No, I have a better idea,” Anna said.
“Oh, oh, what?” Sam asked, and I could literally hear her giddiness over the phone. Great. My friends were clearly having too much fun with this. Or maybe I wasn’t having enough fun. But how could I? The thought of being forced to spend hours on end with the one person in this world I hated made me cringe.
“Your goal is to try to get him to quit, right? And why not have a little payback at the same time?” Anna suggested.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“What did Finn do to you? He humiliated you, right? So it’s only fair that you humiliate him. He’ll be so embarrassed or so pissed off or, best case, both, that he won’t return to work. Voilà. Problem solved. Finn gets what he deserves, and then he’s gone. And you no longer have to work with that asshole anymore.”
As Anna spoke, I couldn’t help but picture Finn standing at the entrance to the ballroom, his head hanging, his lips drawn down in a frown as I stood there like the queen of the ball—or rather, the princess—laughing while pointing at him with my friends.
Would he finally learn what it felt like to be on the other end? Would he know how horrible it felt to be made fun of? Would he understand the cruelty he and his friends bestowed on my fragile heart?
“I’m in,” I said.
“You haven’t even heard Anna’s idea,” Sam pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter what it is. He deserves to feel what it felt like for me that night. Who knows, maybe this will be an epiphany for him. Maybe he’ll realize what he did and be a nicer person to the next poor girl.”
“Atta girl,” Anna said.
“And besides, anything to make him leave me alone. I can’t handle seeing his face day in and day out.”
“Okay, listen up because you have some work to do right away,” Anna said before telling us her plan. Anna was a little bit evil…evil genius.
I felt marginally bad for Finn…but just marginally.
After I hung up, I had a few things to take care of for the plan to work, and coordinating it at the last minute took a bit of maneuvering. Thank goodness I had the means to make it happen. All I had to do was convince Finn.
Finn
“PLEASE, FINN, DO you honestly think I’d ask if it wasn’t necessary?” Eliza asked over the phone, having caught me just before I was about to head out to pick her up at home.
“There are probably thousands of starving models out there in the world, and you’re telling me you can’t find one who’s available?”
“On such short notice? No,” she said. “You forget this isn’t a paying gig.”
“I’d think plenty of guys would be willing to pay you for this opportunity.”
“You might be right, but where would I find them in the next ten minutes?” she asked.
“I have an idea,” I started. “Just walk down the street and ask the first guy you see if he would like to take some pictures with you.”
“So funny, Finn. So very funny,” she said dryly. “Besides, isn’t it your job to make sure I don’t do something like that?” She had me there. “Come on, please,” she pleaded. “This is for charity. Please.”
Eliza had called just a few minutes ago, and the first words out of her mouth were “I need you.” I’ll be honest, picturing her mouth forming those words and directing them at me…yeah, let’s just say my dick liked them.
I made a smart-ass response which, of course, led to a little bit of verbal sparring before she finally got to the point.
It turned out Princess Eliza had a nice side. She worked with a charity providing clothing and essentials to needy kids. She was currently the face of the charity and was giving up her time for free. It almost sounded too good to be true. I bet she was probably just doing it for the good PR. Nonetheless, they were shooting some promo shots today to be used for an event in the near future, and apparently, the guy model she was set to work with came down with food poisoning. That meant they’d have to reschedule unless they could find someone else to replace him.
“So you’ll reschedule,” I’d said with a shrug. “Is that why you’re calling? To tell me not to get you yet because it’s been canceled?”
“Do you know how much money goes into a photo shoot? I donate my time, sure, and thankfully, many others do too, but it’s not all free. That means money lost and money not spent on the kids. Plus, this will also delay their schedules, which again leads to money.”
“Okay, so what do you want from me?”
“You have to be the guy model,” she announced, and I actually sputtered.
