supposed to be together eternally.
The absolute perfect shot. The one they’d waited all day for. The one they needed to have in by tonight so this ultra-swanky magazine could go to press.
She bit the inside of her cheek before she said, “I knocked over his camera. I had no idea a camera had so many working parts. You think it was expensive?”
Ingrid wrinkled her nose and waved a dismissive gloved hand. “Bah. He threw some numbers out, but I bet it’s all just bullshit. You know those creative types. They all think they bleed diamonds and shit Dolce & Gabbana. He probably lives in some crappy apartment in Brooklyn with his mother and her poodle.”
Ingrid’s attempt to make her laugh wasn’t working. “That number he threw out was five thousand dollars.” Quinn blanched. She didn’t have five thousand pennies—not after that trip to Greece.
“Well, yeah, he did. But all’s not lost. You did make a friend. That hot model who looks like he stepped right out of a Hugo Boss commercial was willing to pay good money to get his hands on whatever lotion you use to make you sparkle. He was pretty nice, right?”
“He was gay, Ingrid . Gay , and I matched him with a straight female model— for life .” Oh, Jesus and a fucked-up mess, she’d really done it.
“But Khristos fixed it. It’s all okay now.”
She snorted her disgust. “I could have ruined his life, Ingrid! What if Khristos hadn’t been here? Because the time will come when he’s not. Poor Rolando could have ended up forever in the closet, unsure why he was madly in love with a woman he wasn’t even a little attracted to. And let’s not forget, Shay-Shay—”
“La-Tee-Shay, remember? It’s part of her first name and her last name all mashed together as one. Her agent told her to do it so she’d get noticed. She was pretty, huh? But not as nice as Rolando. Kinda snippy, in fact.”
“Not the point, Ingrid! As if she doesn’t already have enough self-esteem issues about her age—even if she’s just barely twenty, but she could have ended up with a man who physically wouldn’t want her ever , but who she’d love desperately anyway. In her mind, that’s like death!”
“But you set her straight. You gave her a good talking to about the importance of all that inner-beauty stuff and how someone should love your bones, not your shell—”
“For which she reminded me of what a hypocrite I am when my shell probably cost a few grand at the plastic surgeons, if you’ll recall,” Quinn said, pointing to her chest.
“Oh, what does she know? You’ll make a good mother someday, Quinn. That speech you gave her was, bar none, one of the best I’ve ever heard about healthy body images. Ya done good.”
She let her head hang in utter shame. “They looked so perfect together, Ingrid. So right. And that feeling—I can’t explain it, but it was so… urgent . Like if I didn’t get my ass in gear, the world was going to fall down around my ears.”
Ingrid nodded her head, the spikes of her multicolored Mohawk bouncing. “A romantic notion from a diehard romantic, if I ever heard one. So see? Your romance bone isn’t broken after all.”
“After what just happened, I wouldn’t rule out an amputation.”
“This from the woman who started the Romeo and Juliet Club on campus.”
“And we now have two proud members.” She held up her frozen fingers for emphasis.
“After a year of its existence,” Ingrid reminded.
“Some things take longer than others to grow.” Okay, so her Romeo and Juliet Club hadn’t been a huge success. It was just another reason why this Aphrodite job wasn’t her bag. She wouldn’t know romance from her elbow.
Khristos rubbed his jaw and loomed over her. She’d watched him attempt to gather his patience while he’d paced back and forth in front of them for the last half an hour.
But his attempt to soothe her was valiant. “Your aim is off just yet. You’ll get better, but you have to listen and
The absolute perfect shot. The one they’d waited all day for. The one they needed to have in by tonight so this ultra-swanky magazine could go to press.
She bit the inside of her cheek before she said, “I knocked over his camera. I had no idea a camera had so many working parts. You think it was expensive?”
Ingrid wrinkled her nose and waved a dismissive gloved hand. “Bah. He threw some numbers out, but I bet it’s all just bullshit. You know those creative types. They all think they bleed diamonds and shit Dolce & Gabbana. He probably lives in some crappy apartment in Brooklyn with his mother and her poodle.”
Ingrid’s attempt to make her laugh wasn’t working. “That number he threw out was five thousand dollars.” Quinn blanched. She didn’t have five thousand pennies—not after that trip to Greece.
“Well, yeah, he did. But all’s not lost. You did make a friend. That hot model who looks like he stepped right out of a Hugo Boss commercial was willing to pay good money to get his hands on whatever lotion you use to make you sparkle. He was pretty nice, right?”
“He was gay, Ingrid . Gay , and I matched him with a straight female model— for life .” Oh, Jesus and a fucked-up mess, she’d really done it.
“But Khristos fixed it. It’s all okay now.”
She snorted her disgust. “I could have ruined his life, Ingrid! What if Khristos hadn’t been here? Because the time will come when he’s not. Poor Rolando could have ended up forever in the closet, unsure why he was madly in love with a woman he wasn’t even a little attracted to. And let’s not forget, Shay-Shay—”
“La-Tee-Shay, remember? It’s part of her first name and her last name all mashed together as one. Her agent told her to do it so she’d get noticed. She was pretty, huh? But not as nice as Rolando. Kinda snippy, in fact.”
“Not the point, Ingrid! As if she doesn’t already have enough self-esteem issues about her age—even if she’s just barely twenty, but she could have ended up with a man who physically wouldn’t want her ever , but who she’d love desperately anyway. In her mind, that’s like death!”
“But you set her straight. You gave her a good talking to about the importance of all that inner-beauty stuff and how someone should love your bones, not your shell—”
“For which she reminded me of what a hypocrite I am when my shell probably cost a few grand at the plastic surgeons, if you’ll recall,” Quinn said, pointing to her chest.
“Oh, what does she know? You’ll make a good mother someday, Quinn. That speech you gave her was, bar none, one of the best I’ve ever heard about healthy body images. Ya done good.”
She let her head hang in utter shame. “They looked so perfect together, Ingrid. So right. And that feeling—I can’t explain it, but it was so… urgent . Like if I didn’t get my ass in gear, the world was going to fall down around my ears.”
Ingrid nodded her head, the spikes of her multicolored Mohawk bouncing. “A romantic notion from a diehard romantic, if I ever heard one. So see? Your romance bone isn’t broken after all.”
“After what just happened, I wouldn’t rule out an amputation.”
“This from the woman who started the Romeo and Juliet Club on campus.”
“And we now have two proud members.” She held up her frozen fingers for emphasis.
“After a year of its existence,” Ingrid reminded.
“Some things take longer than others to grow.” Okay, so her Romeo and Juliet Club hadn’t been a huge success. It was just another reason why this Aphrodite job wasn’t her bag. She wouldn’t know romance from her elbow.
Khristos rubbed his jaw and loomed over her. She’d watched him attempt to gather his patience while he’d paced back and forth in front of them for the last half an hour.
But his attempt to soothe her was valiant. “Your aim is off just yet. You’ll get better, but you have to listen and
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