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She’s speaking my language now. But since I’m cash-poor, whether I agree with her philosophy or not, I reply, “I’ll decide that night, once I know for sure if we’ve got chemistry.”
“Suit yourself. I was just trying to save you twenty percent.”
“Let’s talk next steps,” I say, switching gears. “I want to be able to hand-pick my date from unedited photos. Headshots and body shots. Absolutely no photoshop.”
“Not a problem. Wire me a deposit, and I’ll send you a link to a gallery.”
“Is the deposit refundable, if I’m not happy with any of the options?”
“Of course. But, trust me, you’ll be happy.”
“Make sure my date knows she’s not allowed to network for herself that night. There are going to be lots of influential people at this party—household-name celebrities and power brokers—and I don’t want her trying to hustle for herself.”
“When I call the girls to ask about their availability, I’ll be clear about that.”
“My date can say she’s a model with such and such agency, if she’s asked about her career. In fact, if all goes well, I’m sure some of the power brokers at the party will seek her out afterwards, for music videos and whatever. And that would be great. I genuinely hope she cashes in. Just not that night. That night, she’s there for me.”
“Of course. What’s the event, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“A birthday bash for the founder of Rock ‘n’ Roll.”
“Oh, wow. Sounds like fun.”
“A ‘who’s who’ of the music industry will be there. It’s going to be the party of the year in my industry. Even more so than Grammys after-parties.”
“So, you’re the ‘Reed Rivers’ of River Records, then? I’ve been googling you as we’ve been talking.”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Do you look anything like the photo on your website?”
“Yeah. It’s unedited. Taken two months ago.”
She chuckles softly. “Well, then, I can see why you have no trouble attracting beautiful women on your own. You’re a very handsome man, Mr. Rivers.”
“Unfortunately, I attract beautiful women who have no idea what it takes to build a fucking empire from scratch. Beautiful women who require way more attention than I can possibly give them at this point in my life.”
“Well, Mr. Rivers, you’ve come to the right place. I can assure you that whatever girl you choose will have no trouble understanding what you’re trying to accomplish here—and enthusiastically playing her part to assist you. Indeed, after seeing your photo, I’m quite certain your date, whoever she is, will have no problem staring at you at the party, all night long, like you’re the handsomest, most powerful man in the world, a sex god who just got finished fucking her with his huge dick minutes before you two walked through the door.”
I chuckle. “Francesca, has anyone ever told you you’re damned good at your job?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time, Mr. Rivers.”
“I’ll send you the deposit right away. I’m looking forward to seeing those photos.”
Chapter 5
Georgina
Present day
After settling into a third-row seat of the packed lecture hall, I pull out my laptop and do the exact thing Alessandra commanded me not to do: I load a flash drive with her three best songs. Obviously, I’m going to focus the majority of my energy on charming CeeCee Rafael. But there’s no way in hell I’m not going to have my stepsister’s music at the ready for the record label guy, just in case.
After stuffing the loaded drive into my purse, I pull out my phone and google Reed Rivers, as Alessandra suggested. And, lo and behold, the photo that pops up on my phone makes my jaw clank to the floor. Hot damn. My stepsister made Reed sound like a chick magnet, and now I can see why. He isn’t only a young, rich, powerful music mogul—all of which would be catnip enough for virtually any woman—he’s also scorching hot by any standard of male beauty. The kind of sexy that makes even the smartest women turn as stupid as a box of rocks.
Reed’s chocolate eyes are piercing and intense. His dark hair is stylishly mussed. And, damn, his cheekbones look like Michelangelo himself chiseled them from a hunk of perfectly tanned marble. Surely, if the music thing hadn’t panned out for this hunk of gorgeousness, he could have made his living starring in cologne commercials. He’s just that beautifully crafted.
I flip to the images option on my browser, thirsty to see more photos of this insanely hot creature, and quickly discover Reed’s tattooed, muscled body is every bit as jaw-dropping as his face. Add “swimsuit model” to the list of potential careers for him in a parallel universe. Holy crap. From top to bottom, Reed Rivers is more than a chick magnet—he’s a Taser gun. A crossbow. Even if he were a pauper without an ounce of power or clout, any red-blooded woman would tumble into this man’s bed without a second thought, if only to experience one delicious, reckless night with a god among men.
