Page 2 of The Contract
This industry routinely chews models up and spits them out. I should be used to the ups and downs by now, but this is the strangest lead-on I’ve ever had. He’s still weighing me up though, seeming to be considering something, his head tilted to the side. A glimmer in his eye makes me think there’s a lot more to his decision than just my face.
“I saw on your resume that you’ve done a lot of work in Chicago,” he says, pivoting.
I nod, my brows drawing together. “That’s right. I started working when I was still in high school, so I stayed close to home for a few years.”
“Ever had the chance to work with KZ Modeling?” he goes on.
My scalp tingles a little. I’m not sure how to answer. Of course I’d dipped my toes in the KZ waters that one night with Luka Zoric, but it hadn’t ended well for me. I really want a contract with Elite, though, so I can’t get into all that. I’d only make myself sound naïve.
I bend the truth slightly. “I had the opportunity for representation, but I turned it down so I could come out here. I wanted to branch out. See new places.”
His eyebrows arch as he leans back in his chair with a knowing nod of his head. “Probably a good thing. You dodged a bullet there.”
“Yes.”
I know he’s referring to the prostitution scandal that rocked KZ, but I don’t need or want to get into the details or participate in any industry gossip.
“What do you think of them now?” he prods. “Have they really cleaned up their act?”
I spread my hands in a gesture of uncertainty. Why does he think I would know? My sole experience with KZ Modeling consists of the one-night stand I had with Luka years ago—during which he made false promises of a contract in order to get me in bed. And there lies the beginning and end of my interaction with KZM.
By all accounts, the Zorics have recently gone full speed ahead in trying to clean up their image publicly, starting with a name change and a rebranding campaign. But as much of a douche as Luka is, I can’t see him or his family carrying on with any sex trafficking now that their patriarch is in prison. I’m sure they’re fully committed to keeping their hands clean.
“They seem to be on the up-and-up,” I say. “I wouldn’t know the full details, of course.”
Austin dips his head. “Of course.” He pulls a document from a folder on his desk and sets it facedown on the top. “KZ Modeling, or should I sayDanica Rose Management, is exceptionally vulnerable right now. With all the bad PR and a slew of models breaking their contracts with the company, they’re going to have a difficult time staying afloat. In fact, their first quarter returns were frankly pretty dismal. You’ve heard about all of that, I’m sure.”
“I have,” I admit. “Though the majority of the models were happy to sign on with Danica Rose under new terms. I imagine they’ll bounce back eventually.”
Austin shrugs. “Who’s to say? Their future is very uncertain. Uncertain enough that another agency could swoop in right now and take them over. Buy the company outright. Wouldn’t you think?”
“It’s possible,” I say noncommittally.
The truth is, I don’t really know. I’m not in the habit of spending my time pondering the financial health of the modeling agencies back in my hometown. I have no idea why Austin is talking to me about this. I have zero connection to the Zorics. At the same time, as strange as this interview is, I don’t want to come across to him as indifferent.
“Is this buyout something Elite is interested in?” I ask, watching his face for a tell.
“It’s possible,” he echoes me. He gets up and walks to the huge windows, looking out at the view of the Hollywood Hills, pacing casually like this whole conversation is no big deal. But I know I’ve hit the mark. He’s being pretty obvious. “Could you still get a contract with them?”
My heart lurches again. “Maybe. Though it wouldn’t make much sense, honestly. I’m in LA now and I don’t plan on moving back to Chicago any time soon.”
Austin frowns as he turns back toward me. “That’s too bad. I see something special in you. And if you were to, say, work your way back into KZ—I mean, Danica Rose—and gather valuable information…information that could be used to assist in a takeover…well, you wouldn’t just be special anymore. You’d beMaxilene-special.”
I don’t get a chance to even consider a response as he continues, “Elite will take over Danica Rose with or without your help, Brooklyn. But it will go smoother, faster, and a lot more painless with someone on the inside. Especially if we’re able to make them aninformedoffer.”
I frown. “I—”
“I’ve read your CV,” he interrupts, walking closer. “Come on. You’ve been pounding the pavement for years. You should be national by now. You’ve got the look, the experience, the attitude. Let us help you. A face like yours is one DRM will take a second look at.”
He flips over the paper on his desk and I take a look. It’s a short summary of the Maxilene campaign…with a lot of dollar signs attached to it. I flick my gaze to his. Austin is smiling as if he’s known all along that I couldn’t turn my back on something this good.
“Are you going to go back to your old agency and be a nobody forever, Brooklyn? Or are you going to finally make a name for yourself? Tell me you’re in.”
No, I don’t want to go back to my old agency. I outgrew them a long time ago. I want more. I want bigger. Better.
I want Maxilene.
I slide the paper back to him as I rise and smooth the front of my dress. Lifting my chin, I try not to let my conscience in. There will be plenty of time for that later.
