Modeling Death Read Free Page B

missing my point here. My point is that Paul Sparrow isn't the exception; he's the norm. Do you know how hard it is to find a nice model, who actually gets along with photographers and designers?"
    Jacob shrugged. It only made good sense to get along with the people who paid him. He couldn't help it if some models shot themselves in the foot with their behavior.
    Mandy's phone rang.
    "Just a moment, sweetie," she said, grabbing the receiver. Never one to miss an opportunity, she would probably answer her phone while meeting with the president.
    After greeting the caller, she listened for a moment before turning her eyes towards Jacob. "Yes, he's here. When did you need him by?"
    Jacob watched as Mandy's fingers flew across her keyboard. "Yes, we can fit you in for an interview between one and three today. He has a magazine shoot at four. Mmm hmm. I'll send you a contract. Sign it if you want to take him on."
    She hung up and stared at Jacob for a moment. "Do you want to explain to me why one of New York's hottest new designers just called me?"
    "Isn't that what they always do?" Jacob asked, puzzled.
    "Yes, but they usually start with the cheap models. They don't call me and say they want Jacob Richmond and no one else will do."
    Jacob shrugged. "Maybe he heard about me from someone else?"
    "She. Faith Danes."
    Jacob searched his memory, but he came up blank. "Haven't heard of her. Maybe she can tell me more when we meet."
    "Well, she was most insistent on seeing you so she must have seen one of your ads." Mandy scrawled an address on a Post-it note and slid Jacob's new portfolio across the desk. "Better hurry, kid, or you'll miss your appointment."
     
    * * * *
     
    Guy sat on the corner of his sister's desk, swinging his heels.
    "Would you tell me why I'm paying thousands of dollars for a kid I've never met?"
    Guy grabbed the clipboard from Faith, signed the contract, and held it out to her assistant. "Fax this back."
    The skinny kid grabbed the clipboard and scurried out of the room.
    "Trust me, you won't be sorry. He's hot."
    "And you think I should waste my hard-earned money to employ your new boyfriend, why?" Faith glared at Guy. "From the amount they're charging, I don't think your new boy toy is hurting for cash."
    "Stop calling him that," Guy growled. "Or did you forget who financed your entire company?"
    Faith raked her fingers through her hair. "Fine. I'm sorry."
    Guy sighed. "No, I am. I financed your company because you're insanely talented, not so you'd owe me a favor." His sister's magical affinity for fabric helped her create incredible designs, and although she was two hundred and seventy years his junior, they were still close. "Faith, I've got to meet this guy again; I can't get him out of my mind. I'm almost certain he's my mate." He gave her his best imploring look.
    "What do you mean you think he's your mate?" Faith sat up straight in her chair. "I thought you knew him."
    Guy shook his head. "I met him at Favors, the new club downtown. I'm looking into a murder for the council. They thought one of their suspects might be there last night. I never saw the man I was looking for, but I found Jacob." Guy sighed as he remembered how hot Jacob looked. "He's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen, and he smells amazing."
    " He ' s a model, " Faith said in a dry tone. " They tend to be good looking. " She examined her brother ' s face and burst out laughing. " You ' re infatuated with this kid. You really are. I hope he is your mate because I never thought I ' d see the day when my cold-hearted brother mooned over anyone. I ' d hate for him to turn into one of your usual pickups. The family will be pleased you finally found your other half. "
    "Yeah, maybe mother will stop calling then," Guy growled. "And I'm not mooning." He ignored her comment about his pickups. It wasn't something he could deny. About a hundred years ago, he'd all but given up on finding his mate and decided to settle for Mr or Miss Person of the