AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Keats gives him a few notes, shows him a pose and a turn, then right before our eyes, Olivier is modeling those skintight clothes and boots in a way that would make Tom Ford himself empty his pockets.
I force myself to think about Peggy so I don’t pop a semi in my Calvins.
“I’d love to represent you,” Keats tells Olivier in a flirtatious voice.
“I’m really more interested in Drew finding work,” he says.
“I’m evaluating Drew, but again, humor me. It’s only my job to find you castings. Getting and taking the jobs is up to you. But you’re a natural. Why slam a door shut before taking a peek to see what’s inside?”
Olivier looks at me, and I nod. “I told you.”
“This makes me feel like shit.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Keats coos. “Why?”
“Because, you have the most gorgeous man in New York nearly naked behind you, and you’re handing me a contract.”
“I have more than one contract you know, and hundreds of contacts on both coasts.”
Unable to keep himself from being a little shit, Olivier goes on. “It feels like American Idol,” he complains. “Like when some poor girl brings her brother in to play guitar and sing background vocals for her audition, and they end up choosing the brother to go to Hollywood and send her back home to Alabama.”
I can’t help but smile. “One of us needs a job, baby. Just go with it.”
“I have a book deal,” he snaps at me.
“Not yet you don’t.”
“You two are just electric, aren’t you? Here.” Keats hands Olivier some paperwork on a clipboard and then turns to me.
“Okay…” he says appeasingly. “Your body is much better than the pictures.”
“He works out a lot,” Olivier says.
“I see that.” Keats circles me, and I get the feeling he’s using all his willpower not to touch the merchandise. “So, Drew, I have a close friend who works in the advertising industry. Multiple clients, campaigns, et cetera. You’re a type that doesn’t fit the standard mold.”
I try not to visibly deflate, and then he says, “You’re more the type one would build a campaign around. What I’d want to do with you is set up a photoshoot and try you in several looks, put together a new book, and send it to my friend. It doesn’t guarantee work right away, but I can be very persuasive. You do have something special. Sometimes you just need to know the right people to break through with a look like yours.”
Olivier has the smuggest grin on his face, and I have to stop looking at him.
“I have a photographer in mind, and I’m willing to share the cost for a session with him.”
“How much?”
“Six thousand...split fifty-fifty.”
I let out the small amount of hope I’d allowed myself.
“Done,” Olivier says.
“No,” I say, louder.
“He’s splitting the cost,” he argues. “It’s not like he’s not investing, and he’s right. You are special, and you’re gorgeous, and you’ll inspire people to think outside the box. It’s not like any man can turn my head, you know?” he says meaningfully.
Keats holds up a hand. “May I?”
“Please,” Olivier says.
I move to stand next to him, and he slides an arm around my bare waist. I do the same, wanting to acknowledge how much I appreciate the way he continues to fight for me.
