Love Me Gently (Deer Creek #1)

Twelve

Trina

Then

* * *

Stella tugged my arm so hard she almost yanked it right out of its socket.

“Stella! Slow down!”

I was laughing as I shouted to her, but she paid me no mind.

Dodging and weaving through the late summer crowds in Times Square was dizzying on a good day. With Stella pulling me along behind her, it was a wonder I was still on my feet.

I couldn’t blame her, though. I was so thankful I had found a friend as good as she’d been to me. For the last year, ever since I stepped foot into our small, run-down apartment that kept falling apart on us, she was there, supporting me. Encouraging me.

Hugging me on the days when I truly didn’t think I could sit through another photography session—with either Robert, or my new agent, Steven. I didn’t have to tell her why I came home crying.

She never asked.

But the first time it happened, she swept me in her arms and let me cry for hours. Then she went and bought us a couple of bottles of wine, and kept my glass refilled. Since I first met with Steven in April, my life had been a roller coaster.

Photo shoots. Model calls. Jobs booked. Everything was moving at lightning speed.

I was doing it. I was making it, and I, more than anyone, knew how special this moment was.

And yet that pit in my stomach continued to grow, making me feel sicker as we approached our destination, until Stella came to an abrupt stop, and I slammed into her back.

“Look at you.”

She wrapped her arm around my lower back and hugged me tight to her side. With her free hand, she whipped open the magazine spread she had earmarked to my face.

My face in a full-page spread featuring a new, low-priced, line of makeup that was going to be in all drugstores across the nation. I was the one, at least my face, who would be associated with all of it.

This was it. The beginning. I’d be able to get Stella and me into a better apartment once my checks rolled in. I’d be able to go to Fashion Week. I’d be able to do all the things I dreamed of…

As long as I continued to keep Steven happy.

A shiver rolled through me at the thought and the rush of the crowd and music pumped from speakers pulled me back to the present. Now wasn’t the time to mourn how I got to this place. It was a time to celebrate. Soon I’d be so well known, I wouldn’t have to do the things Steven demanded of me.

Soon, I’d be popular enough I could find a new agent who would take me on because of my skills and my résumé. Doing what Steven made me do was temporary. Someday, I’d be free of it.

“Look!”

Stella cried and held up the magazine.

My gaze followed and excitement flittered through my veins. I glanced up, beyond the magazine in Stella’s hands and found it. A matching billboard to the magazine spread.

My face was on a billboard in Times Square.

I was on a billboard in Times-freaking-Square.

“Holy cow,”

I breathed, and my limbs trembled. “I can’t believe it.”

I leaned against Stella as tears burned my eyes. Of all the horrific things I’d had to do to get here, I was still here. Still standing. Still chasing dreams and then wrangling them.

“I’m so proud of you,”

she exclaimed and shoved the magazine into my hands. “Turn around. Let me get a picture of you being so beautiful and awesome. Soon everyone will know your name and I’ll get to say I was the one who helped make you into the awesome person you are.”

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. “Of course you did, Stella.”

“Well, outside your parents and all. Have you told them yet?”

I glanced down at the now crumpled magazine in my hands. It’d be on the shelves in their grocery store any day. If I told them, they’d buy every single copy and hand it out to their friends as they left church. They’d be thrilled for me, I knew it. They’d supported me with their words ever since the day I left, even though they desperately wanted me to come home.

They’d be proud of me. Happy for me.

But then they’d ask how all of this happened, and there was no way I could look my father in the eye and confess to him I had to sell my soul to earn it.

“Not yet.”

I frowned and glanced up, camera-ready side in place. “But I will. Soon.”

Stella pushed her lips to the side. Her parents weren’t great, and she’d been on her own since she was eighteen, too. My relationship with mine was vastly different. It was the one thing she could never quite understand. To her, I was turning my back on loving parents who were always there for me.

To me, I couldn’t shake the guilt and regret I constantly carried. One look at my mother and I’d crumple.

I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t ready.

I doubted I would ever be ready to risk it.

“Okay.”

She shrugged and pulled her digital camera out of her oversized faux-mink bag. “Whatever, woman. Hold up the magazine and smile. Your first… and most definitely not the last billboard ad in the middle of Times-freaking-Square!”

She bounced on her feet, and I couldn’t help but follow her enthusiasm.

“Who would have thought?”

I grinned as I said it and held open the magazine to the correct page.

With the billboard behind me and Stella snapping shots in front of me, for a moment, I could believe that everything was perfect.

My hair was atrocious. My eye makeup smeared. I couldn’t bring myself to look at myself in the mirror as I scrubbed the taste of him out of my mouth. It lasted forever, and he’d been rougher than usual. It didn’t matter what I said or how I smiled, it seemed Steven always knew the days I hated him.

And I did. Truly. I hated everything about the man, despite my success since July’s billboard ad and my first magazine spread. Jobs were coming faster, but it was my soul that was leaking like a sieve. It didn’t matter how often I tried to plug the holes to keep my sanity, to maintain some sense of myself, I was losing it.

I was losing me.

I spit one more time, gagged as I scrubbed my tongue and then shoved my mouth near the faucet so I could rinse and spit. The entire time, I tried to forget.

Forget the contract Steven had me sign that meant if I canceled it and found a new agent, he’d take all the royalties I’d made. I’d owe him back pay. I’d lose my current deals, including the Mynx skincare that was getting me more attention.

I wasn’t even sure it was attention I wanted anymore. Every time a set of eyes landed on me these days, I wanted to hide. Thankfully it was December and I could walk the streets of New York huddled in an oversized, puffy coat with a thick scarf wrapped around my throat, hiding the lower half of my face, the rest covered by a thick beanie with a popcorn ball on top.

I could hide in plain sight and I was only starting to regret the return of spring when I’d have to shed it all.

Not like I didn’t shed everything every time I stepped foot into Steven’s office, anyway.

Glancing in the mirror only long enough to see the devastation smeared all over me, I grabbed a paper towel and ran it under water. By the time I was done cleaning my face, my cheeks were red, my eyes were swollen, and I looked like death.

Which wasn’t all that far off from how I was feeling these days.

I opened the bathroom and stepped foot into Steven’s office.

He was resting his backside against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. The fact he’d only gotten redressed and resumed the place where he was standing when I entered wasn’t lost on me. He intimidated me on purpose, and I fought against cowering in front of him as I retook my seat in the chair. It was a replay of how our appointment started. Fortunately for me, he’d never once demanded a second round.

“Are you over your snit?”

As he asked, he adjusted his shirt sleeves. The cufflinks rattled, taking me back to earlier, when his hand had pulled my hair until I cried out.

I pushed down my skirt and kept my eyes on his face. Who knew what he’d do if I showed any emotion or balled my hands into fists like I wanted to. “I’m feeling better.”

“You don’t appear to be nearly as thankful anymore as you once were, you know? It’s disappointing.”

He reached for paper on his desk. Not paper. A gold envelope with a shiny black embossment on one corner.

Considering I most definitely was not thankful anymore but trapped in a hell of my own making, I stayed silent.

“Nevertheless, you are still becoming one of my agency’s most talented models.”

I perked up at that, pulse increasing. Someday, I’d be able to call my own shots. Make my own rules. Forge my own way. Only two more years with Steven, and then I’d be free. “Thank you.”

“No thanks required. You’ve been invited…”

He held out the envelope in my direction. “To?”

He shook the envelope until I reached for it. I tugged. He held on tighter until I glanced up at him and met his gaze. “I would hope, with this, that you’ll show more excitement for our meetings in the future.”

My stomach rolled, and I swallowed the disgusting, still lingering taste of him, even as I fought a cringe. This could be anything, but I knew exactly what he wasn’t saying.

“Of course, Steven.”

“Good.”

He grinned and let go of the envelope.

I wasted no time opening it and pulling out the contents. The first one on top was all I needed to see.

Paris Fashion Week.

February.

Nine weeks from now.

“Are you kidding me?”

I shrieked and grinned up at him. For a moment, I’d forgotten who he was. The power he had and all he made me do. “I’m going?!”

He nodded once, that disarmingly friendly smile he wore the first time I met him. He licked his lips, and my excitement dwindled. “As long as you continue to please me, yes. Your travel plans and everything else is included in that envelope.”

As long as…

Of course there was a hitch, a leash tugging me back.

“Of course.”

I stood and made the small step toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Steven. I won’t disappoint you.”

He slid his hand down my back until his hand landed on my backside. He squeezed, harder than necessary, enough to make me flinch. “See that you don’t.”