Page 7 of Out of Reach

“So, you’re a model?” Mal asked Jude as they walked across the parking lot toward the restaurant.

“How’d you know that?” Hawk asked.

“I read the dossier online.” Mal looked Jude over. “I can see that. Great facial structure, long legs—”

Hawk smacked Mal in the back of the head.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Stop ogling the client,” Hawk said, opening the glass door for Jude.

His phone rang again just as they were served their meals with the same New York number Jude hadn’t recognized before but now realized was Utopia Modeling Agency.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Jude English?” a female voice asked.

“Yes,” Jude said.

“Mr. English, this is Kit, Tomaso Ricci’s PA. Do you remember me?”

Excitement stirred in his gut. Tightening his hold on the phone, he said, “Of course I remember you, Kit. How are you?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you. Mr. Ricci would like to see you about a contract this Friday, if you can work that into your schedule.”

Wait. What?

“Uh, are you sure about that, Kit? Because the last time I spoke with Mr. Ricci, he—”

“I’m absolutely positive. Will twelve o’clock for lunch do for you? At Utopia.”

“I’ll be there,” Jude said. And he would be, come hell or high water.

When he disconnected, Hawk and Mal were looking at him expectantly from across the table.

“A call about a modeling job. Evidently, I’m not blacklisted anymore.” He felt a grin splitting his face.

“That’s a little strange, don’t you think?” Hawk asked. “Prescott blacklisted you. Why would that suddenly change?”

“He probably got over being mad. Maybe he’s got a new guy, or maybe Ricci talked him into it. He always liked me before. Anyway, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I have to be back in New York City by Friday. And don’t say anything!” He held up his hand when Hawk opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t really care what you think. I’m not missing my chance to do what I love again.”

“Let’s see what the bosses say,” Mal said to Hawk, who looked ready to argue but kept silent.

Half an hour later, with three empty plates in front of them, Mal dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “It’s on me.”

“Easy to say when you’re using the company card,” Hawk said. Jude had been contemplating Hawk’s five o’clock shadow, remembering how it had felt against the insides of his thighs. Realizing his cock was swelling in his jeans, he thought about road-kill instead until he could get up from the table without embarrassment.

The last thing he needed to do was to get caught up on Hawk again.Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it.

Twenty minutes later, the SUV pulled through the gates in front of what Jude could only describe as a mansion on the beach.

“Wow, this is where you guys live?” he asked. The outside of the house was lit up against the dark evening sky.

“Live and work,” Mal said.

“The house belongs to Slade Falcon?” Jude asked.

“To his nephew, Jase,” Hawk answered, hefting Jude’s suitcase out of the back of the SUV and refusing to hand it over to Jude, instead carrying it to the front door himself.

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