A Model Hero by Sara Daniel Page B

either. He curbed the impulse to act the role of solicitous host and offer her a cup of coffee. Instead, he waved her into the living room, taking the opportunity to admire the sway of her hips in her well-fitted pants. Real bodies with imperfections interested him much more these days. “Camel’s a great color on you.”
    She looked over her shoulder at him. “Actually, black is the only color that flatters my shape.”
    “Bullshit. You look hot.”
    She tripped over a footstool.
    Kyle grasped her waist, hauling her flush against his frame in an effort to keep her from falling over.
    “Sorry. Thanks for catching me. Guess I should watch where I’m going,” she babbled, twisting out of his arms.
    He let her go, his hands tingling with the imprint of her sexy curves. Most women would have used the stumble as an excuse to flirt and press their breasts against his chest. But Gretchen had always kept her distance.
    She seated herself across the room, reinforcing the reminder she hadn’t changed. She took deep breaths and pushed her brown, shoulder-length hair out of her face. The gesture made one section twist at the top of her head, sticking up in a loop and softening the professional image he’d viewed her through before today.
    He settled onto the sofa, his body aching to be closer, wishing for an excuse to touch her again. He didn’t want to discuss what she’d come to talk about, but he liked seeing her try to regain her composure and knowing he caused the discomfort. “Tell me about yourself, Gretchen. What do you do besides track down your mother’s long-lost clients?”
    “I run a financial consulting company, where I specialize in helping troubled businesses become financially solvent again.”
    Which she probably had been doing for longer than a year. He’d never noticed she had a life of her own. “So what do you do? Crunch numbers on a calculator all day?”
    “Along with telling companies where to cut expenses and which products and services they need to focus on to improve their income.”
    He must be one of those “products.”
    “So you’re consulting for your mother’s agency?”
    “Well, this job is a bit more personal,” Gretchen admitted, leaning forward.
    The last time he’d seen Zola, he’d gone to tell her he was retiring from the industry. Unfortunately, his appointment was after the new guy, Donatello, whose girlfriend had arrived at the same time to pick him up. Donatello and Zola’s hot-and-heavy discussions had run over schedule, as well as spilled from the office into the reception area. Donatello, his pants around his ankles, had run past Kyle and after the girl, swearing he’d only done it so Zola would schedule him on modeling jobs. Miss Brokenhearted had immediately tweeted the other models’ girlfriends, demanding to know if their men had to sleep with Zola to get jobs, too, and soon industry uproar had erupted. “Your mother seems to enjoy making her business personal.”
    Gretchen flushed, but she didn’t flinch. “She’s fortunate to have a client such as yourself with a healthy respect for professional boundaries. Going forward, she has also agreed to institute such boundaries. Despite being out of the loop for a year, your name continues to top company wish lists. Naturally, you are a critical part of the Zola rebuilding plan.”
    “Not interested.” The fact that he hadn’t spoken to anyone in the business in the past year should have been enough clue. The scandal had provided a perfect cover to walk away and let everyone assume he’d been burned by Zola’s blackened reputation, even after she’d been cleared of sexual blackmail.
    “I’m sorry my mother’s behavior drove you away, but if you truly had no interest in the industry, you would have asked to be released from your contract.”
    The psychoanalysis, while entertaining, had no basis in fact. He never met with Zola to explain his need to take a break, and then the surgery and recovery consumed