Page 14 of Hard Count
Carmen looked at him steadily. “Noah.”
“Carmen.”
“Don’t make this complicated. I need you to be on good behavior.”
“I’m not making anything, the dude is too fucking uptight to cause any problems with,” Noah said. “I’m shooting a campaign half naked, he will be a prick to me, and I will smile because they are paying me millions to smile.”
He picked up his jacket. “He’s the one who’s going to make it complicated.”
Carmen said nothing. She had clocked exactly what he’d said and what he hadn’t.
Noah headed for the door. He was ignoring the potential pushback from his mother Sofia, which was going to come the moment she heard about this stunt. Luckily she was busy with his father, Mateo, at the winery he just purchased for his father in Walla Walla, Washington. The very winery his father had worked at when Noah was a kid, picking grapes to support the family and give his kids a better life than his own.
“One day,” Carmen said behind him.
“One day in my fucking underwear,” he agreed.
Chapter Seven: Los Angeles
The studio smelled of hot lights and baby oil. Taxidermy lions stood between the lighting rigs, frozen mid-snarl and paws up. The campaign concept was developed by a gay 32-year-old marketing major from USC named Taylor Love. The idea he developed wasbeasts in briefs.
Piper arrived first. He always did. Lighting rigs, black backdrop, concrete floor, photographer already moving between equipment with restless energy.
“Hey I’m Taylor, nice to meet you Piper, I work on the marketing team. We really appreciate you signing on to this, it’s gonna be fire,” he said, seemingly coming out of nowhere and pouncing on Piper.
“Nice to meet you too, Taylor. The lions are quite the touch,” Piper replied.
“Ya, kind of extra, but who doesn’t like extra, right?” Taylor laughed as Piper nodded his head and smirked.
The wardrobe assistant landed next and handed him the campaign look without making eye contact, which he appreciated, because Piper hated small talk and Taylor spent thirty seconds depleting his quota for the day. He changed quickly into animal print boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. When he stepped onto the set, the photographer looked at him for two seconds.
“Damn. That body is doing its thing,” he said as he looked Piper up and down.Joan, this fucking pervert better not test me.
Piper rolled his eyes knowing if he said what he wanted to say, Joan might leave him, and he hit his mark.
Flash. Flash. Flash.
He moved with the precision he used on the field. His chin up, no smile, jaw on point, shoulders back. Every motion deliberate. An assistant applied oil to his shoulders and chest. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, the photographer was leering at him like a dog with rabies. “Good, you're doing great,” the photographer muttered. “Don’t think. Just be beautiful for me.”
He was thinking. He never stopped thinking. His layered thoughts often got the better of him.Just do what you are told like you always do. Be a good boy like they want you to be,Piper thought as he changed positions.
The studio doors opened.
The room stopped. Piper felt it before he turned around.
Noah Reyes strutted across the concrete floor without urgency. He was wearing dark jeans with a shirt hugging his chest and biceps that appeared one flex from splitting the seams. Hair slightly damp, as if he’d come straight from the shower. An excess of David Yurman jewelry that he somehow got away with. His eyes found Piper across the studio immediately. He smiled, then nodded.
“Ashton.”
“You’re late as fuck,” Piper said annoyed at Noah’s arrogance.
“Got pulled over for speeding.”
Piper didn’t believe him. Noah walked into rooms late because he wanted them to wait.
Noah glanced toward the wardrobe rack, then back.
“Nice setup, are these lions real taxidermy?”
