bmm; play with dynamite don't be surprised if i blow up in your face.

bmm; play with dynamite don't be surprised if i blow up in your face. by ssaarah 

(flashback)

“You can come in now.” The frumpy assistant said grinning at me and the brunette who was clearly one missed meal away from rehab. I walked into the office, used to these casting calls by now. But on ridiculous outfit with even more ridiculous shoes, pose, get booked. Simple. "Over here," She told us as we stood side by side. I had to say I definitely had the upper hand here. The shoot was for swimwear and my curves alone would be reason to hire me. Plus the bikini I was wearing was the same bright blue as my eyes. The brunette didn’t have a prayer.

"Profile," Tristan Williams. BMM’s newest casting director. But honestly he looked more like a model. He was fucking gorgeous and even the model next to me was mentally fucking him.  Too bad for her his eyes were all over me. I could feel them. "Turn," he said next. "Forward again," I looked forward but this time he wasn’t looking at us anymore. He was looking down. And he looked annoyed…... "That's all," he said flatly….I’d never heard an agent change his mind so damn fast. What on earth could have been the problem?

"We'll call you.” The assistant said politely, but I knew what that meant.

“I think I dropped an earring in there.” I lied, ignoring the poor womans protests and walking right back into Mr. Clearly Holier Than Thou. “I know what “We’ll call you” means” I told him, making him look up and groan.

“I'm glad you’re not an idiot Miss Lindsell.” I grinned, though I wasn’t happy.

“Oh good, you do know who I am.” I spat, hating myself a little for bringing up my name but who did he think he was? “I know what it looks like when a casting agent likes you and you did, so what exactly went south?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, eyeing me over his laptop and I swear his eyes went to my cleavage. I should have grabbed a robe or something.

“I’ve been doing this a while. I know if an agent likes me or not, and you were interested. Now either you wanted to book me? Or you wanted to fu.ck me, but then you just dismissed me so you might want to give me an explanation.” I saw him raise his eyebrows. He probably wasn’t used to models talking back at him….but what was he going to do call my mother and tell her to fire me? Ha.

“Honestly it has nothing to do with your look and everything to do with your reputation.” He admitted, shrugging as if that that made total sense.

“Of being a good model?” I questioned. “Or are you talking about my personal life which has nothing to do with my career?!” he just laughed, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

“Nothing to do with your career? Your parents own the company.” He pointed out. “I’d say that makes your personal life and your professional one pretty equal.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“So you’re not hiring me because I'm what….spoiled?” it was something I was pretty used to hearing and honestly it was hard to argue…but it shouldn’t have any bearing on what jobs I book.

“In a word. But I’d add irresponsible, over-bearing, unpredictable, wild even?”

“You’re saying that you won’t hire me to play a beach bimbo because you think I'm a party girl?” how the fu.ck did that make any sense?!

“I'm saying I won’t hire you because I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well now I'm going to add “likes to disrespect authority” on your resume.” He grinned as if he was pleased with himself.

“……authority? Really?” Because casting agents were so important. Insert eye roll here.  He held both hands up before clasping them together behind his head. Fuck why did he look sexy when he did that?

"I'm only doing my job Miss Lindsell."

 "Will you stop calling me that?" I crossed my arms over my chest as I said it.

"And what would you prefer I call you instead?" he asked, keeping his eyes locked on mine shockingly, since I was still wearing basically nothing at all.  Most men were drooling by now.

"Chloe," I said flatly.

"Alright Chloe," he set his elbows back on his desk with his hands still clasped.

"Is there anything else I could help you with? Maybe you keep yelling at me and only reassuring me further that I made the right choice in not casting you?" My god he was full of himself. And since when did casting agents look like models?

"I could have you fired... You do realize that, right?" he shrugged,

"Oh, I'm sure of it."

"And?"

"If you're expecting me to either apologize to you or book you, then you've underestimated me," he started with a slow sexy smile that probably got him any girl he wanted. Which was apparently not me. Which was a first. "But let me ask you a question. This shoot? What did you refer to it as... playing beach bimbo? Why are you interested in it?" I stared at him blankly and blinked a few times, shifting my weight around since I wasn’t sure how to answer that.

"Is this a trick question?" I asked and he just shook his head.

"No."

"Because it's a job and I'm a model," I stated the obvious.

"You aren't doing this for the money, so why accept any job you can get? Why not hold out for only the ones you really want?" he set his chin in his palm and kept staring at me as I silently wondered how the stubble on his face would feel if he was kissing me…damn.  "Or do you expect playing a beach bimbo to further your career?"

“You think I'm a spoiled little rich girl just playing model until I find something else don’t you?”

“Aren’t You?” He asked, looking semi amused…..or maybe his eyes just always sparkled like that.

“You’re right Mr. Williams. I don’t need to work for the money, hell I don’t have to work at all, but I like my job, and I'm damn good at it. And take away my name? You know you would have cast me today. My portfolio is great and that has nothing to do with who my parents are.”

“As cute as your little “woe is me” rich girl fit is? I do have actual work to get back to.” I blinked at him. The man had to be nuts. Like actually crazy.

“Do you like being a casting agent?!” I asked incredulously, wondering if he had some kind of career death wish. He looked back up and rose a brow.

“This sounds like a threat to me.” I shrugged.

“Admittedly I'm confused as to why you’d risk what I'm assuming is a very highly paid job all to prove a point to the owners daughter.”

“I'm not risking anything.” He said simply, chuckling to himself.

“How can you be so sure?” He shrugged.

“Well for one thing if I thought you were going to run to mum and dad I’d accept one of the other “very highly paid jobs” I’ve been offered from our competitors. But I'm pretty sure I know you and you won’t.”

“You don’t know me.” I snapped back.

“I know you alright. And right now you’re trying to think of every way to convince me that you’re better than I think you are.” I felt my insides get even tighter because yes, that was just what I was thinking. But it wasn’t fu.cking fair!! No other agent ever cared if I went out after the shoot, as long as I did my job who cared what I did outside of it?! Then again….no other agent looked as good as Mr. Williams did in a suit. Which was unreasonably delicious. I was torn between the want to strangle him? And the want to straddle him.

“You are a waste of my time.” I growled, turning around and storming out but feeling his eyes on me the whole way. Apparently my as.s was more interesting than my face. At least I still had that going for me.

*Present Day*

I turned the corner and saw Tristian Williams talking to my brother. He irked me to no end. First of all, he’d never booked me. Not once. The whole time he was here. Secondly? He’d never hit on me. Not once. The whole time he was here. And he was so fucking hot I could hardly stand it. Too bad he was apparently more sexually attracted to my brother than me. I walked up to them and I could almost hear him groaning. My god I wasn’t that bad. Most men even liked me!

"I need to talk to him," I said seriously and he let out a breath before backing off.

"Let me excuse you two then," he looked back at Ben and grinned, looking like he was leaving him hanging since I was just that awful. Stupid.

"No," I kept talking. "I meant you, Mr. Williams." Ben slapped his back and smirked before giving me a glare but I wasn’t going to try anything. I wasn’t into guys who weren’t into me.

"I'll see you later man." he shot him a glare and then he turned back to me.

"How could I help you Miss Lindsell?" he asked with a smile.

“Why do you like my brother and not me?” I asked watching Ben leaving. He rose his brow at me.

“What?” he asked, looking confused and slightly taken aback. I held my gaze on him.

“I'm serious. Whenever I see you I swear you’re always two seconds away from strangling yourself with your own tie and yet you’re Ben’s biggest fan? Doesn’t compute.” He widened his eyes this time.

“Compute?” he smirked and ran his hand over the slight scruff covering his face. “First of all, don’t flatter yourself to think that I’d ever want to kill myself just by spending time around you.” I felt my jaw set and I knew I was in trouble.  I wasn’t sure if I was more angry….or more hot for him but that’s pretty much how it had always been with him. If only he felt the same way I bet the hate sex would be phenomenal….

“And?” I asked, tearing myself away from the fantasies of him literally ripping my dress off because I became pretty transparent and even though I was hot for him I didn’t want him to know that. I did have some pride after all.

“And secondly? You and your brother are nothing alike.” I pursed my lips.

“But you at least gave him a chance.” I said under my breath.

“It’s not like I hired him over you Miss Lindsell.” He smirked.

“Chloe.” I corrected. He grinned and leaned back against his heels, letting the wall hold him up.

“If we’re going to be on a first name basis then it should be two ways.” I sighed. I never used his name because sometimes I was afraid I’d moan it instead of say it.

“Fine.” I folded my arms tighter across my chest.

“Fine….” He trailed off, seeming to enjoy teasing me. Guys were so weird.

“Fine…Tristan.” I added. He grinned wider.

“Great. Now I’ll ask you….Chloe.” he paused to let me soak up the way he said my name. “Did you seriously pull me away from a conversation so you could ask me why I like your brother better than I like you?” I narrowed my eyes further. In fact it was nothing at all to do with that and more to do with the new campaign he was casting for a jewelry company I really wanted to work with. But then my mouth had gotten the best of me.

“I want to be considered for the diamond ad.” I said bluntly, ignoring his question and answering it in the same sentence.

"Okay," he said with a small shrug….okay I’d expected to have to work harder than that.

“Okay....?" I uncrossed my arms to move my hands to her hips.

"I'll consider you," he replied, folding his arms in front of him but slightly smirking as if he was holding back the other half of his thought.

"Is that your smart ass way of saying you already have and I'm not even close to being one of the candidates?" I asked him.

"Insulting me won't make me like you anymore," he retorted and smirked at me.  Such an asshole.

 "You're unbearable!" I exclaimed after a full minute of just staring at him feel my cheeks get pink. "Why? Because I'm spoiled? You're still not over that?" Tristan shook his head quickly looking annoyed. The feeling was mutual.

"It's the way you carry yourself, your reputation," he said seriously. "It's like you don't take yourself serious, so why should I?" Now he was just wrong.

"Excuse me?!"

"I research my clients."

"Good for you."

"Have you ever actually Googled your name?" he asked but didn’t give me the chance to reply.

"The way you get trashed on celebrity blogs is one thing, but the images? Well a picture says a hell of a lot more than any words could say and most of yours? Stumbling drunk out of clubs, you hanging all over different guys, wardrobe malfunctions, do I need to keep going?"

“I'm sorry but in any of those pictures or blogs was I at work?” he just looked at me.

“What?”

“I'm saying that what I do outside of the job doesn’t have anything to do with how good a model I am!! Next time you’re doing your research? Why not look at my portfolio instead of saving my latest nip slip into your personal spank bank.” I snapped at him. He widened his eyes for a second before recovering. I had to admit…he wasn’t taken aback too easily. Then again I’d never had to fight for anything so much in my life. It was infuriating.

“Apparently you don’t realize that what you do outside of the job does reflect poorly on this company and on your work ethic.” He replied, seeming already bored with me. Seriously. Bored. With me!!!!

“What I do outside of the job is none of your business.” I replied, stepping closer to him and realizing how good he smelled. Damn it.

“If that’s what you think? Then you are none of my business at all.” He retorted sharply. I wanted to hit him. I felt like I wanted to throw a fit but I knew that would fall right into things that spoiled rich girls did when they didn’t get their way…..then again. It was. And I was pretty much being the picture perfect of the stereotype he set out for me. Instead of not hiring me why couldn’t he just bend me over the railing and spank me instead? So much more fun. I took a deep breath and a step back because his cologne was making me dizzy and not because he was wearing to much of it like most agents did but because it seemed to just be…him.

“Fine.” I swallowed. “So then what do I have to do to get into your good graces?” he blinked at me.

“Why don’t you just go to any other agent and do their diamond campaign? I'm sure your act works on them.”

“I like the company you’re in charge of casting.” I thought it would be silly to admit that the first pair of diamond earrings I got for my 12^th birthday was from the small French company. That wouldn’t help my case.”You asked me why I wanted to be a beach bimbo in an ad for bikini’s back when I first modeled for you. I didn’t want that. But I do want this and I am willing to do what I need to do for it.”

“You remember what I said to you a year ago?” he asked, raising his brow and walking a step closer.

“I don’t get rejected a lot Tristan. When I do it sticks with me.” I admitted, trying to hold my ground instead of lean into his body. His broad shoulders were like a damn magnet….

"That's not surprising," he said to himself, and I quirked a brow at him. From him? That was borderline complimentary.

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me..." I trailed off, lowering my voice to add a quiet, "Not that it's exactly nice..." He grinned,

"Yeah, I've heard that I'm an assshole."

"I won't disagree with you there," I said flatly. "My brother though? Now I see why he won't get back together with his ex. He's in love with you instead."

"You shouldn't stick your nose into other people’s relationships," he said, ignoring my thinly veiled insult. “Don't you think that if they were supposed to be together, then they'd be together?"

"Great. You too?" I rolled my eyes, "I don't know why I even try with you."

"You forgot already?" he grinned wider, "I believe you were trying to bribe me into casting you for a jewelry ad." My mouth fell open,

"I wasn't bribing you!" I exclaimed.

"No?" he asked. "So you keep pushing your breasts together every five minutes for the hell of it?"

“That’s not to bribe you.” I said after about ten minutes of silence. He just widened his eyes as if he was expecting me to go on.  Eh. What the hell? “It’s a natural thing when I'm around attractive men.” I shrugged.

“Excuse me?” his grin returned and I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth for a good five seconds before I responded.

“To be fair, you keep looking…so…” he was still grinning at me.

“Are you saying that you’re attracted to me?” he asked slowly. I shook my head.

“I said you were attractive. That’s different.” He took a step closer.

“Not by much.” I took a step back.

“That doesn’t really matter does it?” I asked, blinking. Two things could happen right now. Either he could make a move on me, or shoot me down and we could move on with being in a semi-professional relationship that I got nothing out of. He stared at me for a second and for the life of me I couldn’t read his eyes.

“No I guess it doesn’t.” he said finally. I wasn’t all that surprised, but I still felt a bolt of rejection go through my body that I tried to shake.

“So then we’re settled. I didn’t try to bribe you.” I swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn’t use this against me any time soon, I hadn’t thought of that…..

“I'm still not convinced.” He grinned.

“Oh for god’s sake. You have to know you’re hot, I'm only a woman and I recognize that. Now can we move on and you can tell me honestly what I can do to change your opinion of me?” He nodded his head and smiled, though this one wasn’t as snarky as they had been previously. And honestly? It just made him even more fucking beautiful.

"Take life more seriously, don't treat your career like it’s a joke and wear panties when you go out in public." I narrowed my eyes on him,

"I think my mom got it all wrong when she hired you. Clearly you're in the wrong profession and should be in PR instead."

"And you should be in rehab," he retorted, quickly. Fucking asshole. That was a little over dramatic. I was fun not tragic.

"You're an as.shole." I said seriously, deciding to actually voice my thoughts. He grinned slowly and it was back to the sexy smirk again.

"But an attractive one, right?"

"I take it back!" I exclaimed.

"You take it back?" he repeated, laughing harder. "You can't take that back. You think I'm attractive... Did I say thank you earlier?" I narrowed my gaze on him once more and folded my arms over my chest before realizing he probably thought I was trying to hit on him or something so I set them at my sides.

“First of all? If you’d ever actually worked with me? You’d know I take my career seriously. It’s not a joke. It’s my life.” He just rose a brow at me. “You’ve done your research, has anyone ever complained about me?”

“Not specifically…” he trailed off.

“Because I’ve never been anything but completely sober and attentive. You might still think that I'm only doing this because of my family, but I’m not. I love my job. I'm damn good at it too.”

“You’re still under the illusion that partying all night doesn’t reflect badly on you.”

“On me. Maybe. But on my worth ethic? If that’s what you think then fuck you.” Tristan smirked as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

“Very professional.” He teased and I resisted the urge to groan. Or slap him. Instead I bent over to fix the buckle on my shoe. “What was second of all?” he asked as I stood back up to turn around. I smirked.

“I always wear panties in public.” I replied. “You probably just witnessed.” I added, having no doubt that my skirt had ridden up a little when I’d bent over.

“Oh? So then the great view of your ass in the tabloids is what….photoshopped?” I shook my head and stepped closer, the word “great” hadn’t been necessary.

“Great view of my ass? Very professional.” I smirked, using his words against him. “Have you never seen a thong before?” I gave him a pitying look. “Is that why you’re always hanging out with my brother? Because I do have to let you down. He’s super straight….”

"Do you think I'm gay?" Tristan asked point blank. Most straight men? They’d take more offense to my comment….but he didn’t actually strike me as gay…maybe he was bi.  

"It'd be a waste if you were." I said finally. Tristan grinned back at me,

"If I'm not mistaken, it sounds like you're hitting on me again, Miss Lindsell."

"Again?" I shook my head, "Don't flatter yourself... and what did I tell you about calling me that?"

"Chloe," he corrected himself, his eyes flicking to my chest once more, though this time I was doing nothing to push them out…instead I was thinking how sexy my name sounded on his lips….

"I know you're straight. Do you think I don't notice the way you stare?" I quirked a brow before flashing her  a cocky smirk. He let out a low chuckle and shook her head,

"Are you always this cocky? It must be the only thing you and your brother have in common." I scoffed. My brother was much worse.

"Am I wasting your time right now? I'd hate for you to have Ben withdrawals."

"Very considerate of you," he grinned, not at all bothered by my reference to their man love. I just shook my head. They were really weird with each other.

“I'm going to do what you said.” I replied. He rose a brow.

“Do what I said?”

“Clean up my act, be all good image girl. Just wait.” He chuckled slightly.

“I’d love to see the day.” He replied. I stepped closer.

“I have two questions though.” The corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

“Shoot.”

“Okay. One. Once I'm a good girl….will you hire me?” he nodded.

“I might.” That was better than what was happening now, which was basically an all out Chloe Lindsell ban.  “What’s the second question?” I licked my lips slowly and watched as his eyes moved to my mouth.

“If I was to hit on you….” I trailed off, letting my face finish the rest of the question. He grinned again and then swallowed.

“I don’t date models.” He finished seriously. I made a show of sighing dramatically.

“Then it’s really too bad I'm not just doing it for the hell of it.” I winked, turning to walk away, this time not minding so much that I could feel him watching me go.