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it. But damn it! She was perfect for Marc’s ad campaign. And he owed Marc. Owed him more than he’d ever be able to repay.
    â€œHer,” he said, still staring at the door. “She’s what I’m looking for. I want her.”
    â€œKaz? But the general … uh, Mr. MacArthur, just fired her. I can’t send her out on assignment if she doesn’t work for the agency.”
    He turned on the charm. “She’s your roommate, right? I heard her say she’d see you at home later. Call her. Ask her if she’s willing to meet me. I’ve got a hot assignment, one that could be a terrific career opportunity for her.” Not to mention what it could do for his professional reputation. “I don’t care if I hire through an agency or independently, but I definitely want…” He paused. “Her name’s Kaz, right? She’s the one I want. She’s perfect for this job.”
    He yanked his wallet out of his back pocket and dug through it until he found one of his cards. The corners were bent a little, but he quickly straightened it out and handed it to the receptionist. “My Web site’s on there, and all my professional info is on the site. Check me out. I’m legit, San Francisco born and bred. Well, Marin, but close. There’s a portfolio of my work, my Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter accounts and a list of the magazines I’ve done shoots for.”
    He watched her as she studied his card, thankful that none of those social media sites mentioned the stupid kid he’d once been. R. Jacob Lowell was a successful photographer with an excellent reputation and a long list of professional credits. There was no mention of RJ Cameron on any of his sites. That kid belonged to his past.
    But the model? He wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling she was going to be all over his future.
    Whether that was a good thing or bad, he’d just have to find out.
    Jake glanced at the door again. Maybe he could just chase her down. The sidewalk was filled with pedestrians headed in all directions, but she was tall and gorgeous. She’d stand out. Except he didn’t have a clue which way she’d gone.
    He doubted the suspicious receptionist would give him a lead.
    â€œI don’t know…”
    â€œPlease?” He tried the sad puppy-dog eyes. The look always worked with women, but this gal wasn’t buying. He said it again, desperate now. Terrified he’d lose her. “She’s the one I’ve been hunting for almost two weeks now. That honey tone to her skin, the cut and color of her hair, and those beautiful dark eyes. Right down to the stud in her nose. And the tattoo. Especially the tattoo.”
    The receptionist didn’t even blink.
    â€œI’m serious. The art’s like an omen—the company is new, their logo is a monarch butterfly. It doesn’t get any better.”
    The receptionist took a deep breath. Shook her head. Jake’s gut clenched.
    â€œI just don’t know…”
    That was better than a flat-out no, but not much.
    He was clenching and unclenching his fingers. Not good. He shoved his hands in his back pockets. “This job is important to me and to my client. He’s a successful guy with deep pockets, starting up another new business. The model who gets this job will be the focal point of an international media blitz on a big budget, but we’re on a tight deadline. I need a commitment right away.”
    He didn’t tell her it was more than just a job—that this was the biggest job Marc had ever offered him. He already owed the success of R. Jacob Lowell Photography to Marcus Reed, but this would take him to an entirely new level.
    A level that much farther away from RJ Cameron.
    He didn’t just owe his success to Marc; Jake owed him his life.
    He ran his hand up the back of his head and stared at the door. Then he realized he’d just made a mess of his hair,