Chapter 15. Juliet, the Model
Juliet, the Model
PRESENT DAY
Juliet cracked open the door and found the man who’d made her life a living hell waiting outside.
Danny Peterson had dressed up for the occasion, as she’d known he would.
He was short—the phrase “Napoleon complex” had been invented for him—with close-shorn hair he’d bleached a few years ago, back when it was cool, and no one had bothered to tell him the trend had ended.
He wore his version of a suit, a Canadian tuxedo in dark wash denim, so loose and baggy that it toed the line of cultural appropriation.
Juliet was relieved he’d come as himself. She’d been worried he’d put on airs and the other girls wouldn’t get to see how ridiculous he truly was.
“Juliet, my girl.” Danny whistled appreciatively, sticking his sunglasses in his jacket pocket. “I thought I was going to roll up here and you’d tell me this was a prank.”
“No prank.” She took a step back and opened the door. “Come in.”
“Damn.” Danny swaggered past her into the Santa Monica mansion. “How the hell did you become friends with Cybele Laurent? No offense, but I didn’t think you had that kind of hustle. I underestimated your game, girl.”
“She’s actually very nice. Despite her reputation.” Juliet followed behind him, her bare feet silent against the cool ceramic tiles. She hoped Cybele couldn’t hear her, because she was pretty sure the model would be insulted by the idea that she wasn’t as intimidating as she appeared.
“How’d you convince her to take a meeting with me?” Danny might be addressing her, but his eyes were fixed on the art hanging on the walls. Cybele had a taste for modern paintings: bold colors, provocative lines, and unsettlingly abstract representations of figures.
Juliet worked to keep her tone neutral. If she drenched it in derision like she wanted, or showed any sign that this meeting wasn’t what Danny thought it was, she’d ruin the plan.
“Cybele’s thinking of leaving IMG. She wants a smaller, more bespoke agency.
” She stopped and faced Danny. “I figured bringing her to you might help me work off some of my debt.”
He nodded in a way Juliet knew, after four years of working with him, meant he was bullshitting. “Oh, for sure. If Cybele signs with me, I’d say that’s worth a cool grand knocked off your debt. Finder’s fee.”
The commission Danny would make off Cybele Laurent’s rising career was worth much more than that, but Juliet gritted her teeth and said nothing.
“So where is she, anyway? This house is hella nice, but—”
“Hello, Danny.”
Juliet and Danny both spun. She had to hand it to Cybele—the woman knew how to make an entrance.
She trailed down the minimalist staircase in the corner of the room like a queen, wearing ripped-up jeans and a simple white T-shirt, her dark hair long and loose, the epitome of off-duty model.
Behind her, Scout skipped down the stairs, wrapped in a hot-pink fuzzy jacket despite the warm weather, like some sort of jester sidekick.
Juliet wondered if they’d been playing dress-up in Cybele’s closet before this.
“Oh damn.” Danny pressed a hand to his heart. Juliet worried he’d bow. “Cybele and—I know you, you’re a singer. Man, I didn’t realize—it’s an honor to be in the presence of such greatness.”
Really laying it on thick, Danny.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Cybele gestured to her sitting room, which was decorated in a vintage rose motif.
A collection of dolls lined the bookshelves.
Juliet wasn’t sure if Cybele’s style was normally creepy-doll avant-garde, or if she’d created the set for Danny’s benefit, but either way, it was effective.
His eyes were glued to the unblinking doll faces as they settled in their seats.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Danny said, finally tearing his eyes away.
“I know your time is precious, so let’s jump to it.
” He leaned forward in the dainty rose-patterned armchair.
“I hear you’re leaving IMG, and I want to put my hat in the ring.
I can get you mad business, take your career to the next level. ”
“Danny.” Cybele stretched her legs over the settee, posing more than sitting. Juliet had sat on it first, and then Cybele and Scout had sandwiched her between them. It made Juliet feel safe.
“You should be doing perfume launches, a beauty line,” Danny continued, not missing a beat. “If you’re willing to rep diet teas, I’ve got a connect at a company—”
“Mr. Peterson,” Cybele interrupted, stopping Danny cold. “I hold a decent amount of sway in this industry, wouldn’t you say? I’m not just talking modeling. I’ve been doing this gig for years. I’ve met a lot of people.”
Danny nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. You’ve been hustling and you’ve got star potential. If you sign with me, I’ll make you one.”
He’d walked right into the trap.
“Juliet is one of those special people I’ve met,” Cybele said. So far, Scout remained silent, simply observing. “She’s become an important friend.”
Danny looked between Juliet and Cybele, trying to figure out what to do with this information. “All my clients are VIPs, including Juliet. Actually, they’re more than that—they’re family.”
Juliet wanted to scream.
“And you know us girls.” Juliet could practically hear the smirk behind Cybele’s words. “We like to talk. My new friend Juliet was telling me about the contract you had her sign when she was only thirteen. You take fifty percent when the industry standard is twenty, right?”
Danny cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s a case-by-case basis. With Juliet, she needed a lot of work. I got her started. I mean, she wouldn’t book jobs if it weren’t for me—”
“That’s not true,” Juliet interrupted. “These days, all my jobs come through my contacts.”
He bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. “I gave you that ten-thousand-dollar bonus, though, remember? Helped you out of a tough spot.” His smile widened. “Without me, you’d still be in Kansas.”
“Mississippi. And it wasn’t a bonus. It was a loan.”
“See?” He turned his forced smile on Cybele. “I go above and beyond for my clients.”
“A predatory loan,” Juliet clarified.
Cybele wore the coldest expression Juliet had ever seen. “Danny, do you know what happens to predators who abuse my friends?”
The jig was up.
Danny stilled in his seat. Cybele had just called him a predator, but to Juliet, he looked like prey. “Hold up. My contracts are legal. Juliet agreed to my terms of her own free will. Isn’t that right, Ms. Snodgrass?”
Oh, he couldn’t remember where Juliet was from, but he could remember her real last name, huh? The one he’d told her to change so casting agents wouldn’t laugh her out of the room. Of course he’d throw that in her face, try to prove he had the dirt on her, that he was the one in control.
Scout spoke for the first time, directing her words to Cybele and ignoring Danny completely. “It used to be that nothing much happened to predators. That’s why this guy was able to amass over thirty clients, all of them under twenty years old. Kids who don’t know better.”
“Now people don’t stand for that stuff anymore,” Cybele said, like she and Scout were doing some sort of call-and-response, a routine they’d practiced a hundred times before. “Even if it’s technically legal.”
Juliet had never felt more alive than in that moment, buttressed between these two women as they toyed with her tormentor.
“You see.” Cybele turned to face Danny squarely.
He was balanced on the edge of his seat like he was about to make a run for it.
“Me and her.” She gestured at Scout. “We operate a little bit ahead of the law, but eventually it always catches up. And the reason we invited you here is to offer you a deal. You’re going to release Juliet from her Topflight contract and make the same offer to every other client who wants out.
Any new clients you sign from this moment forward, you’ll take a fair twenty percent, sign them for three years, and give them the ability to leave with a thirty-day written notice. ”
“Now why the fuck would I—”
“And in exchange,” Cybele continued, unblinking in the face of Danny’s anger, “Scout and I and every single person we know won’t make your life a living hell and run you and your business into the ground.
I won’t personally tell every model, brand, designer, and outlet I work with that you take financial advantage of girls when they’re new and vulnerable. ”
“And you’ll be stopping me from talking to every journalist I know,” Scout added, scratching at her nail polish, completely nonchalant, “which is a fairly long list.”
Danny turned pale. “You talk shit about me, that’s libel—”
“I’d only tell the truth.” Scout gave him a look so pitiful it was almost more insulting than her words.
“The percentage you take, the length of your contracts, the age of your clients. I’ll let people draw their own conclusions.
And people love to talk. It would open up a much-needed conversation about standard practices in an industry rife with abuse.
Unfortunately, you probably wouldn’t work in entertainment again.
The internet really does love to go all in. ”
The only warning Danny gave was the tensing of his muscles right before he launched out of his chair.
Juliet screamed and scrambled back, but Scout and Cybele didn’t flinch.
In the blink of an eye, Scout reached inside her hot-pink jacket and slid out a handgun, raising it to Danny’s face as he loomed over them. She flipped the safety with a click.
Danny froze and stared down the barrel of the gun. It was a slim piece, almost dainty, but dark as iron and no less lethal.
Juliet’s heart galloped in her chest. Never had she imagined this.
“I forgot to mention,” Scout said, voice even.
“If you try to harm Juliet or any of your clients, or if you don’t let them out of their contracts, there will come a night when you’re not paying attention—maybe you’re bored, maybe you’re distracted—and someone will come for you and make you very sorry. ”
Danny was so still he didn’t even blink.
Scout had a gun. An actual gun. She’d been wearing it this whole time. Slid it out of her coat casually, like she’d done it a thousand times. Every instinct inside Juliet screamed at her to run, but she was just as immobilized as Danny. Her muscles trembled with tension.
Slowly, Danny raised his arms.
“Do we have a deal?” Cybele asked.
He nodded once—briefly, as if he were afraid to make even the smallest movement.
“Then leave,” she said, and Danny wasted no time running. It wasn’t until they heard the door crash shut that Scout relocked the safety on the gun and tucked it back inside her jacket.
“Well,” she said, turning to Juliet. “He shouldn’t bother you anymore.”
“Does anyone feel like a drink?” Cybele stretched, showing off a wide expanse of her perfectly toned stomach. “We should have people over. I’m craving margaritas.”