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And Emery Brooks steps inside with me. He grins as I pull my hand back. “Why do we always seem to meet in elevators?” he asks.
“I don’t know, but I’d make sure not to stand too close to the doors. I hear they’ll rip your clothes right off.”
Even now, as I stand here terrified of how it’ll feel to watch Emery around other women, I can’t help but banter with him. We click so well, it’s nearly impossible to keep from enjoying his company. Or is it just that I’ve accidentally joined the Cult of Emery?
“At least I came prepared to have my clothes ripped off,” he says with the same smirk he used in our first conversation. The same one I hated. And fantasized about.
I let out a little laugh, but then the elevator gets quiet. I’m happy for the silence, but Emery doesn’t let it stay silent for long. He whispers, “I wish you’d gone with me on Thursday.”
I huff. The fact he’d even consider bringing that up with me sets my nerves on fire. “I doubt you’d rather go with me than Ariana Russo. I bet the two of you had quite the night after you left.”
Emery leans against the wall and sighs. “We didn’t do anything.”
I’d been pissed when I first saw the pictures of Emery and Ariana, but the anger had simmered, slowly settling. Now, he’s here trying to lie to me, and the anger boils inside me all over again.
I pull my phone out and click the photo of them that’s circulated amongst the tabloids. The one where Ariana has her arm around his waist and her lips pressed against his cheek. I hold the phone up for Emery to see. “She’s throwing herself at you. Don’t try to tell me you two didn’t do anything together. I can handle you being you, but don’t lie to me. We may not have been officially exclusive, but lying to me about other women is cheating in my book.”
Emery grits his teeth and shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Madison. It’s all an act. Every time I walk out the door is a goddamned act. The only times I’m actually me are when we’re together and the door’s closed.”
I shake my head. I trusted him before, and maybe I still do. Maybe I believe he only spent an entire night flirting with one of the hottest women on the planet.
“If that’s true, then I’m glad you’re turning over a new leaf. If it’s not, you’re an asshole. Either way, I don’t know how to handle being the one who has to sit at home seeing pictures of you flirting with people like Ariana Russo, and I just can’t deal with that today. This shoot is too important for my career to deal with you and your issues. Please, at least for the rest of the day, just stay away from me unless it’s about the shoot.”
I take a deep breath as he focuses on me for a few moments, his jaw clenching and relaxing repeated as he thinks before saying anything. Finally, he nods and says, “I understand.”
The elevator dings and the bronze doors open onto the top floor of Hotel Antigua. Just like the pictures, it’s a beautiful penthouse built to look like the ancient European buildings.
There are tiny chips in the plaster, and everything is the color of ivory. Flowers and greenery stand on little tables and planters around the room, and the skylights let in enough light to keep them growing just fine.
And ruining the perfectly serene background is ordered chaos.
Models and photography equipment are set up throughout the room. Every corner and crevice has people putting up cameras and backlighting. Models are having their makeup and hair done. Several of the models are putting on different clothes, tight shorts, or swimsuits.
I’m surprised at the models. I’d expected women who don’t quite fit the typical mold of model, but these women are truly the girls next door. All different sizes. All different ethnicities. It’s like Emery took a snapshot of the American population and picked the models based on that.
It’s exactly what I’d hoped for, but didn’t believe was possible. Some girls are shy. Others are flirty. All of them seem just as excited as my team. These are American amateur models who are not only shooting a major beauty campaign, but they’re doing it in freaking Barcelona.
“What do you think?” Emery asks.
I may be pissed at him, but I have to give him credit where it’s due.
“They’re perfect. Like you read my mind.”
He nods to me and goes to get a snack from the buffet table. I’m in shock at how we’re going to film as many videos as we need in a single day, but I guess when you have a warehouse sized room to work with, it’s a lot easier.
I sit down in one of the folding chairs set up for us, and my team finally comes out onto the shoot. We’re not in charge here. We set it all up, but now it’s the production’s team job to turn it into something useable. We’re just here to make sure that no one has questions.
“This is fucking insane,” Stephanie says as she looks around the room. “We’re filming them all at the same time?”
I nod. “We need almost five hundred videos to work with. Fifty models, one for each demographic with ten videos each to make sure we have enough options to work with for every demographic. You never know which video will hit with ChitChat, so you have to use quantity to test it.”
Shonda sits down beside me. “I know a girl that worked on a ChitChat campaign for Herman and Schuster, and they shot six videos.”
I can’t help but laugh at that thought. Six videos for ChitChat is ridiculous. “So I guess it was a waste of time?”
She nods as she realizes just how different we’re doing it all. From beginning to end, this campaign breaks every rule in advertising.
I glance at Emery as he talks to the lead director, a thin man with an extremely thick beard and long hair. He looks a little homeless except that he’s wearing high fashion clothing and doesn’t look dirty at all.
