Page 11 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

“Hey, man,” he says, extending his hand to shake mine.

“Hey, Nicco. How are you?”

“Great. I’m great. Just finishing up with a meeting. Are you working here tonight?”

“No. Actually, I just finished a shoot with Candi.”

“A photo shoot?”

“Yeah. The bartending helps me pay the bills between modeling gigs. Unfortunately, this was my last one. At least until I can find a new agent.” Frustration boils in me.

“Hard-working man.” He purses his lips and nods toward the bar. “Hey, do you have time for a drink?”

I was heading home to an empty apartment. “Sure.”

“So, tell me about your agent, what’s going on?” he asks as we head to the bar.

“I can’t put all the blame on him. It’s my career and I probably should be after him more. He’s a nice guy, I just don’t feel like I’m a priority for him.”

“It can be a challenging industry. A lot of success comes from who you know. You have to build your reputation with the right people.”

We walk into the bar and sit on a curved, tan leather sofa next to a white marble fireplace. The plush carpet is soft under my steps. Enormous pictures of Hollywood’s elite actors and actresses dress the walls.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for modeling.” A possible reality I’ve been ignoring.

“Nah, that’s bullshit. Do you like it? Is it what you want to do?”

“It is. It feeds my creative side. I get to meet some truly inspirational people.” I gesture toward the pool. “Like Candi.” I pause. “It was incredible watching her work today. She has this vision and she’s so clear about it. She’s incredibly dedicated. I saw her do things I’ve never seen a photographer do. It was inspiring.”

“Gentlemen,” the waiter addresses us. “What can I get you?”

“This is on me,” Nicco says to me. “Get anything you want. You like Macallan?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I mean, I do, but that’s not necessary.” Damn, he really is a generous guy. That stuff’s expensive.

He smiles at me with an I-got-you nod. “Two Macallans, please.”

“Two Macallans coming up.” The waiter turns and leaves.

“Candi.” He chuckles. “She’s a firecracker.” A broad smile spreads across his face.

“She sure is. Tough and beautiful too.”

“Heh.” He sniggers. “Was she giving you a hard time during the shoot?” A small crease forms between his eyebrows.

“No. It’s just, I’ve asked her out twice and she turned me down both times.”

Laughter billows from him. “I’ve seen her turn down lots of guys. Don’t take it personally. She dresses sexy as hell and has a wild, sassy personality. I think men assume that she’s easy which is the complete opposite. But she’s a one-man kind of woman. She’s deeply intellectual and smart-as-shit. One of the most dedicated, committed, and fiercely loyal people I’ve ever met. She’s very selective when it comes to men.”

“Here you go, gentlemen.” The waiter places cocktail napkins in front of each of us and sets our drinks on them.

“Hmh. So, I have no chance in hell then.” Well, that sucks.

He laughs again and picks up his drink, holding it out toward me. “You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of her.”

I tap my glass to his and twist my lips to the side. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance.”

“Prove it to me and I’ll make sure you do.” He sips his drink and leans back, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. It’s not a challenge, but more an invitation laced with protectiveness.

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