Chapter 30
Keira
I’m in awe of the woman staring at me in the mirror.
“This dress… I look so grown-up…” Like someone who has her shit together.
“It’s so beautiful.” I smooth down the white fabric of the form-fitted dress I’m wearing.
“And I love this…” I turn around to admire the deep plunging V back that showcases my tattoo.
“It’s so dramatic. I was worried, but you’re right. It holds in place.”
“The magic of clothing tape,” Shiloh says.
Without it, the dress would slip off my body, exposing my breasts for the world.
The seamless panties also keep me prim and proper.
“This could pass as a wedding dress,” I say.
“It’s so princess-like. I never thought someone my height could pull off a showstopper like this.
” I’ve never dared to wear a maxi dress with a train, worried it would look ridiculous on me.
Shiloh’s eyes brush down the length of my body. “You own the dress.”
“I do, don’t I.” I giggle, doing another swirl.
“The dress is va va voom and demure at the same time,” Shiloh says. The provocative back is balanced with the long sleeves. “It’s pure Hollywood glamour. Local designer Angel Suárez is a master at creating these ethereal styles.”
“The guy has talent,” I say.
What I’m wearing is almost angelic, while my makeup is dramatic. Vampy, even.
“The deceptive simplicity will play off nicely against the colorful SCORE Yours headphones and highlights the value proposition. Hence, why the dress is backless.” She draws a vertical line in the air, tracing the letters of my tattoo.
Shiloh Walden is Flint Guthrie’s assistant.
From what Arianne tells me, Flint is a big-shot photographer.
She assures me it’s a miracle of God he could fit me into his jam-packed schedule on such short notice.
I’m standing in the dressing room just about to step on the set for a photoshoot––the first of many as the face of SCORE Yours.
The shoot was scheduled for next month, but Rhys, Beckett and Arianne decided to have an emergency photo session to appease the press by throwing them a bone.
Instead of focusing on my hush-hush return to LA and my relationship with my boyfriend, we’re giving them something to talk about.
Noah left in the wee hours this morning. He was bummed he’d miss the photoshoot. I promised him a flurry of selfies to make up for his absence.
This is really happening.
“I’m petrified, Shiloh. I haven’t done anything like this in a while… and it’s the first time it’s only me on the set.” I thought Arianne would be here, but she’s trapped in an important meeting with Beckett and Rhys. So, I’m flying solo.
Shiloh moves away from the mirror and comes to stand in front of me. Even in heels, the blonde is much taller than I am and I have to tilt my head back to meet her green eyes.
“I promised I’d put a lid on my fan girl fascination…
” She was even more excited than Arianne and Phoebe were when they first met me.
“…but you can totally do this,” Shiloh says.
“Flint is a tiny bit flamboyant and a lot eccentric, but he’s an amazing photographer.
He’s going to do a series of warm-up shots to ease you into it.
He spent a lot of time prepping for this by scouring the internet, so he knows your best angles.
The fact you’re a natural in front of the camera is a bonus.
Once you’re comfortable, he’ll go nuts and snap away like he’s possessed.
You’ll just have to sit there and be your beautiful self. ”
“Okay,” I say, willing my nerves to calm down.
“You got this, Keira,” she says.
For a complete stranger, Shiloh is amazing at comforting me.
“Thank you for saying that.”
Her phone rings.
She accepts the call.
“Okay, got it,” she says to whomever she’s talking to. Her gaze locks onto mine. “That was Flint. He’s ready for you.”
Oh God.
I take in a deep breath. “All right.”
“Let’s go show the world what SCORE Yours and the new Keira are all about,” Shiloh says.
I channel her confidence. “Let’s do it.”
“My girl is representin’” She singsongs that with a dance move reminiscent of my Lucky Break days.
I can’t help my laugh.
I follow her, balancing on my high heels. My eyes drop to my feet and can’t help but giggle. In Nepal, I lived in flip-flops. That’s also been my footwear of choice since landing in LA. The dazzlers strapped to my feet are quite the departure. To my surprise, they’re quite comfortable.
“There’s our beautiful billion-dollar face,” Flint says.
Since I’m trailing right behind Shiloh’s tall frame, I can’t see him yet.
He catches sight of me sliding out from behind Shiloh.
With a hurried step, he approaches. He’s not tall for a man.
In my five-inch heels, we’re nose to nose.
However, his unruly curly dark, almost black hair with streaks of gray give him an extra two inches of height.
Unrushed, his gray eyes take me in. He walks in a circle around me, doing this thing with his fingers like he’s trying to capture me in a frame.
Then he stops behind me. “The back is spectacular. The tattoo is pow!” He shouts those words.
Shiloh wasn’t kidding. Flint is over the top.
“I couldn’t have said it better,” Shiloh says.
“I predict this will be one of the best photoshoots I’ve done in a long time,” Flint says. “I can’t wait to have you back next month in my studio so we can try different outfits and moods. Today’s session is about capturing unique, and you’re the definition of the word.”
I’m overwhelmed by the weight of his words.
“You, my dear, were born to be in front of the camera,” he says before coming to stand in front of me.
“Oh, really?” My trepidation returns in full force.
I glance around the room. So many eyes are staring right at me. They’re giving off positive vibes, but it’s just a reminder, I’m putting myself out there.
I said yes.
I agreed to the terms.
I signed on the dotted line.
And now, if I can only keep my nerves in check and smile for the camera, everything will be smooth sailing. Right?
God.
“Are all the mirrors in the dressing room broken?” Flint says, glancing over my shoulder. His expression is as serious as a heart attack.
Crap.
I hope my insecurities won’t get Shiloh in trouble.
“No, boss,” Shiloh says.
“Why is she not seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Our cover model is fully aware of how dazzling she looks, Flint,” Shiloh says. “I’ve told her a dozen times, and she saw her reflection in the mirror. She’s a little shy.”
“We need a third opinion, people.” Flint shouts and claps at the same time before doing this grand gesture thing with his hand over his head.
I draw my eyebrows together, as I scour the room, trying to understand what’s going on.
“How do you like our model?”
I meet Flint’s gaze. “I can only assume she looks as stunning from the front as she does from the back.”
My heart jumps out of my chest.
I spin around and gasp before clamping my hands over my face. “Rhys?” His name comes out sounding muffled.
“Hey, sexy.” With a huge smile stretching his lips, he strides towards me.
“I thought you were in an important meeting and you couldn’t make it.”
“It was a white lie,” he says. “Beckett, Arianne, and I all agreed it was best to let you get a head start. They won’t be on the set, but I insisted on being here. I wanted to see you in action.”
“So, Mr. Client, you approve?” Flint does a ta-da hand gesture.
Rhys gives me a onceover.
I return the favor. How can I not?
He adorned another one of his trademark bespoke suits that looks killer on him. Since I had to be on the set early this morning, he hired a chauffeured car for me. The last time I saw him, he was walking around naked in his bedroom.
“I approve.” He flashes me a cocky grin.
“Dress?”
Rhys shifts his attention to Flynn. “Love it.”
“Makeup?” Flynn is on a roll.
“Flawless.” Rhys says.
“Lips?”
“Kissable.” Rhys says.
“Can you do a twirl for us, love?” Flint motions with his finger.
I oblige.
“Back?”
I expect Rhys to answer, but instead, the warmth of his body radiates through mine.
My body celebrates the closeness.
When his finger traces the letters of the tattoo, I shiver.
My eyes shoot down my body, freaked out my nipples might give me away, just to remember nipple covers go a long way.
Thank God.
He leans into me and murmurs in my ear. “You take my breath away, dimples.”
I close my eyes so no one witnesses the wave of emotions taking over me.
“We’re going to make history today,” Flint says.
Rhys takes a small step forward, just enough for our bodies to touch. “I agree.”
If his goal in coming here was to mellow me out, mission accomplished. My stomach is no longer tied up in a knot. On the contrary, it’s doing somersaults because he has me all worked up.
“On that note, let’s get started. Come on, boys and girls.” Flint claps his hands like a teacher.
Rhys’s lips flirt with my earlobe. “From this moment on, everything changes for you.”
I’m still too overwhelmed to talk. I can only nod.
“You got this.”
I nod again.
There’s a buzz of activity around me as everyone gets into place.
“Jimmy, help the princess get on the stool,” Flint says.
A tall black guy comes running to me and extends his hand.
Talk about star treatment.
I take it and follow him to the middle of the set.
He holds me steady as I step on the wooden crate before I can sit on the high stool.
I’m the center of attention.
From this vantage point, the full effect of the studio hits me—the lights, the cameras, the tables littered with laptops and other expensive equipment, and all the wires.
There’s no turning back now.
Jimmy frets with the lower part of the dress and succeeds in creating a beautiful line, showcasing the trail in such an elegant way.
“Thank you,” I say in a low voice.
“You’re welcome.” He rewards me with a bright white smile. “The boss and the client are right, you look incredible.”