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I’ve busted my ass to get where I am.
Being a woman among all these hard-headed, horny, cocky men is not easy. I’ve had to work harder, prove more, and fight longer.
J.R. Watson is the first artist who took me seriously. It wasn’t easy but after weeks of turning up, showing him my artwork, my ability, and my determination, he gave me a shot. One neither of us regrets. I’ve learned so much from him and I think I even taught him a thing or two about realizing a woman is every bit as talented, if not more so than a man.
J.R. has truly shaped me to be able to handle this industry. He taught me simple things like sanitation right down to working with people who don’t want you around.
Corbin Stoll would be that person.
This asshole thinks he’s better than everyone else. He doesn’t believe there’s room for improvement because he’s fucking perfect.
I tried to be friendly with him when I first came in, which was two days after him, but he wanted no part of it. He thinks I’m fucking my way to success, and I stopped caring a long time ago. He can think what he wants because, after today, I’ll never need to see or work with him again.
If only his attitude was as much a turn-on as his body, I might miss him.
He’s hot. I mean insanely fucking hot. The kind of hot that you don’t think could possibly be real. Like it’s touched up or edited for a magazine. But it’s not. He’s really that hot.
His short brown hair, shorter on the sides than the top, is always perfectly styled. His bright green eyes are the ultimate contrast to his dark hair. Granted they are always filled with rage when he looks at me but it kinda adds to the appeal.
His body, holy hell. This is what I mean when I say you don’t think it could exist in real life. His muscular arms are covered in black and gray tattoos, making his muscles stand out when he flexes. His chest and back are solid and since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing him shirtless, I can say that I needed to sit on my hands to keep from tracing that impressive V that leads down his low-hanging jeans.
“You’ll text, right?” Daniel says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I smile as I nod. “I promise.”
“What’s up with Corbin? He’s been staring in here since his client left. You guys a thing or something?” he says, slipping his shirt on.
I laugh as I walk toward the door. “Hell no.”
Corbin’s judgmental, condescending, angry eyes collide with mine. I smile and give a small wave. He hates that. Hates when I don’t let him get to me.
It just makes me enjoy it even more.
He thinks he’s going to walk out of here and own this industry.
I toss him a wink before turning my back on him.
Too bad for him, he needs to get around me.
Chapter 1
Leah
“Leah, you’re still sleeping?”
I pull the covers over my head and squeeze my eyes tight. “Get out of my room, Fay.”
“Oh, come on. I wanna go shopping,” she says, pulling on my comforter.
I push it off my head and lean on my elbows staring at her. My hair is definitely a wild mess and my tank top strap is hanging off one shoulder.
My eyes narrow at her as she smiles back at me. “I didn’t get home until late because I had a huge piece to finish that took longer than I thought. I’m exhausted and you come in here without a fucking coffee.”
She laughs and I smile at her carefree personality.
Fay is one of my best friends. We’ve known each other since elementary school. I was the new kid, and she was the only girl who was nice to me. She saved me a seat next to her at lunch and when I asked why, she said that she likes making people happy.
It’s still the same. She goes out of her way to make sure everyone around her is happy. Even if it costs her, her happiness. I’ve told her a million times that she shouldn’t put everyone else’s happiness above her own, but she just ignores me.
