pulled her into a hug.
“Who
said that?”
“The
CEO! That Fletcher guy!” She wailed, clutching my blouse. “I was Top Model! Who
does he think he is saying I’m the problem? He’s the one running this shitty campaign in the
first place.”
I
furrowed my brow. Gavin Fletcher was CEO of the yacht manufacturer? And he was
taking over himself?
Martin
stormed onto the deck from below, wielding his camera like a weapon.
“We’d
set the theme of the campaign months ago, and now you want to up and change
everything? Do you think I love wasting my time?”
My
heart skipped a beat when I saw Gavin emerge behind him, looking mouth-watering
in a white, cable-knit sweater and navy slacks. His hair was tousled from the
wind, and for a moment, all I could think about was what it would feel like to
run my hands through it.
“I
don’t want to waste anyone’s time, Martin, least of all my own. But this just
simply isn’t working. We need to change it up.”
“What’s
not working about it? We have a lovely girl in a bikini, holding the railing,
looking out toward a beautiful future. That’s what Live Beautifully is all about, for fuck’s sake! The life of luxury that everyone
dreams about.”
“Yes,
but you and I seem to have very different ideas about beauty, Martin, and
luxury, for that matter. That’s what’s not working. This campaign needs a
makeover.”
“Well,
what the fuck do you propose then, Sir? You’re the boss after all.”
Martin
stuck a cigarette between his lips so hard I thought he was going to bite it in
half, and lit up, glaring at the CEO. Now that I knew who he was, my stomach
was in knots, waiting to see if he’d fire him. Hell, if he’d fire us all.
“I
am, Martin,” Gavin said, his voice low. The photographers’s eyebrows raised at
his steely tone. “Don’t ever forget that.”
There
was a moment of silence, unspoken tension building to a crescendo between the
two men. Finally, Martin nodded, sucking hard on his cigarette. Gavin smiled
then, and I could tell the battle of wills was over. The mysterious Scot had
won.
“To
answer your question, I’d like to try a different model. Someone who I think
would better represent the feel of this campaign.”
He
turned to me, still comforting the frail blonde. “I want her.”
“But
that’s what I’ve been saying! She’s perfect.” Martin gestured at the girl in my
arms, ash flying off the end of his cigarette.
“Not
your model, Martin. Aolani. We’ll shoot with her today.” He walked over to me
and reached his hand down to help me up. “That is, of course, if you’re up for
the task?”
A
rushing noise filled my ears as I stared up at him, my brain whirring to
process what he’d just said. Automatically, I put my hand in his, watching in
stunned silence as his large hand wrapped around mine, feeling the electricity
pulse between us once more as he pulled me to my feet.
“So
how about it?” He said, his voice low and lilting. “Will you be my beauty?”
He wanted me. He wanted me , Aolani Kahale to be a model ?
I’d
never done anything like that in my life, much less ever considered being on
that side of a camera. Fear stabbed through me at the thought of posing in
front of Martin, in front of people I worked with, in front of him ,
but when his hazel eyes met mine, the corners crinkling in a way that made my
insides melt, I heard myself forming the words, “Alright.”
“What?!”
Sophie shrieked below me.
Gavin
ignored her, his gaze still trained on mine. I realized he was still holding my
hand, and pulled gently away. I didn’t want to make this more awkward than they
already were. He clapped his hands in front of him, grinning in a way that made
my insides melt.
“Excellent!
That’s settled, then. I wasn’t sure of your size, but I had a few things
brought down today just in case you’d agree. If you’d please go below deck?”
He
pressed his hand into the small of my back, guiding me. The pressure
“Who
said that?”
“The
CEO! That Fletcher guy!” She wailed, clutching my blouse. “I was Top Model! Who
does he think he is saying I’m the problem? He’s the one running this shitty campaign in the
first place.”
I
furrowed my brow. Gavin Fletcher was CEO of the yacht manufacturer? And he was
taking over himself?
Martin
stormed onto the deck from below, wielding his camera like a weapon.
“We’d
set the theme of the campaign months ago, and now you want to up and change
everything? Do you think I love wasting my time?”
My
heart skipped a beat when I saw Gavin emerge behind him, looking mouth-watering
in a white, cable-knit sweater and navy slacks. His hair was tousled from the
wind, and for a moment, all I could think about was what it would feel like to
run my hands through it.
“I
don’t want to waste anyone’s time, Martin, least of all my own. But this just
simply isn’t working. We need to change it up.”
“What’s
not working about it? We have a lovely girl in a bikini, holding the railing,
looking out toward a beautiful future. That’s what Live Beautifully is all about, for fuck’s sake! The life of luxury that everyone
dreams about.”
“Yes,
but you and I seem to have very different ideas about beauty, Martin, and
luxury, for that matter. That’s what’s not working. This campaign needs a
makeover.”
“Well,
what the fuck do you propose then, Sir? You’re the boss after all.”
Martin
stuck a cigarette between his lips so hard I thought he was going to bite it in
half, and lit up, glaring at the CEO. Now that I knew who he was, my stomach
was in knots, waiting to see if he’d fire him. Hell, if he’d fire us all.
“I
am, Martin,” Gavin said, his voice low. The photographers’s eyebrows raised at
his steely tone. “Don’t ever forget that.”
There
was a moment of silence, unspoken tension building to a crescendo between the
two men. Finally, Martin nodded, sucking hard on his cigarette. Gavin smiled
then, and I could tell the battle of wills was over. The mysterious Scot had
won.
“To
answer your question, I’d like to try a different model. Someone who I think
would better represent the feel of this campaign.”
He
turned to me, still comforting the frail blonde. “I want her.”
“But
that’s what I’ve been saying! She’s perfect.” Martin gestured at the girl in my
arms, ash flying off the end of his cigarette.
“Not
your model, Martin. Aolani. We’ll shoot with her today.” He walked over to me
and reached his hand down to help me up. “That is, of course, if you’re up for
the task?”
A
rushing noise filled my ears as I stared up at him, my brain whirring to
process what he’d just said. Automatically, I put my hand in his, watching in
stunned silence as his large hand wrapped around mine, feeling the electricity
pulse between us once more as he pulled me to my feet.
“So
how about it?” He said, his voice low and lilting. “Will you be my beauty?”
He wanted me. He wanted me , Aolani Kahale to be a model ?
I’d
never done anything like that in my life, much less ever considered being on
that side of a camera. Fear stabbed through me at the thought of posing in
front of Martin, in front of people I worked with, in front of him ,
but when his hazel eyes met mine, the corners crinkling in a way that made my
insides melt, I heard myself forming the words, “Alright.”
“What?!”
Sophie shrieked below me.
Gavin
ignored her, his gaze still trained on mine. I realized he was still holding my
hand, and pulled gently away. I didn’t want to make this more awkward than they
already were. He clapped his hands in front of him, grinning in a way that made
my insides melt.
“Excellent!
That’s settled, then. I wasn’t sure of your size, but I had a few things
brought down today just in case you’d agree. If you’d please go below deck?”
He
pressed his hand into the small of my back, guiding me. The pressure
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