I think I found out that I have nothing, that I have nothing in this place for me.

I think I found out that I have nothing, that I have nothing in this place for me. by pinklipstiiick featuring paul smith

I leaned my back against the chair, drifting in and out of the conversation with Evie. Okay, it was hardly a conversation. She was talking a mile a minute about Lanvin's fall line and the kind of model they were looking for since she was one of their head designers... plus she had her own line. It gave her barely any time for me, but I was proud of her. "... and blue eyes. We were thinking Chloe -"

"No," I cut her off and her eyes widened.

She latched the suitcase closed and stood up, walking over to my desk and wedging her fit body between my legs. Hoisting herself onto the flat surface, she crossed her legs slow enough that I now knew she had on no underwear. "We never agree on models," She set her palms on the desk and gave me a serious look. "Like Karlie Kloss? Look at how huge she is now and you refused to book her."

"I am still not even slightly attracted to her," I said honestly, not seeing the appeal of a girl whose face was that normal and her body not much better. She looked like the type of girl you could pick out of any American public school... that was why I refused to cast her for a lingerie shoot. High fashion maybe, but not Agent Provocateur.

"No one was asking you to sleep with her," Evie smirked and set her foot between my legs, inching it closer and closer to my dick. "Set me up a meeting with Chloe."

My eyes glanced past Evie's body, Chloe standing in my doorway as if on cue. I wasn't sure how much she'd heard, but her lips were parted and her cheeks were flushed. "I can come back..." She trailed off, her eyes on Evie as she got back onto her feet. It was hard to concentrate now knowing she had nothing on under her dress... which is exactly why I told all of my clients to wear undergarments always.

"Actually, come in," I told Chloe in my usual monotone voice. "Chloe, this is -"

"Evie Davies," She smiled and the two girls shook hands. "I wore one of your designs to -"

"The Met Gala," She nodded. "It was an honor."

“Actually the honor was mine," Chloe replied, still grinning. “I got on the best dressed list with that one.”

Evie blushed slightly and then folded her arms over her chest, the women exchanging some weird look with each other. “Well I must say I'm not that surprised,” She winked and then bit down on her lip. “Tristan and I were just talking about you actually.”

The blonde widened her eyes and looked genuinely surprised, “Really?” I tore my eyes from her and glanced down at the bottom of Evie's dress, noticing it was a little hitched up from her sitting on my desk. “I'm shocked because I'm probably his least favorite subject.”

Evie laughed, her laugh soft and friendly, “He’s a little picky isn’t he?”

“You could say that," Chloe trailed off, her eyes taking in my shoulders and then moving up to my face. I made a mental note to myself to shave since my scruff was starting to itch.

Evie smirked at her, “He can be silly, but I'm extremely interested in casting you for my show.”

She widened her eyes and I had to admit that I was glad that she wasn't planning on putting Chloe on the cover of Vogue instead. “I’ve already told her you can’t," I said, finally talking while trying not to glare. I hated getting blind sided when it came to my career.

She shot an innocent look straight back at me, “Can’t? Do I have other plans?”

“I'm not booking you," I said simply, shrugging as if she should be used to this by now. And honestly? I think it was all just a game to her at this point.

Chloe turned to Evie, “He’s pretty adamant. Perhaps you should take your business to a different agent? Any other agent in the city actually. I’d be more than honored to walk in your show Evie.”

I groaned in frustration, bringing my fingertips up to my temples. I didn't say anything though, my job an obvious joke to Chloe.

"I'll get your contact information and have my people call yours," Evie said all professionally, turning her thin body back towards mine and pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. "And you need to loosen up a little mister. Call me later."

I grabbed her wrist as she started pulling back, pressing another soft kiss against her lips despite our audience. "Don't forget your stuff," I motioned by the door where her suitcase was, packed with clothes and accessories from Lanvin's fall line. "Do you need help out to your car?"

"I've got it," She grinned, already half way out the door with the suitcase in tow. "Have a great day Miss Lindsell. It was nice meeting you."

"She's lovely," Chloe said as the door closed behind her, leaving me trapped with the blonde. I hated to admit it, but after a week of her texting me nearly every damn day? She really didn't seem so bad. "Not sure what the hell she's doing with a guy like you... but to each their own," She sighed and grinned, eying me coyly.

"A guy like me?" I raised a brow, wondering what she meant by that. Motivated? Cocky? An asshole? I'd heard a lot of words to describe me.

"Mean," She said simply and hey, it was better than the last words she'd called me; gay and stupid. I was neither.

A grin cracked on my face and I shook my head before a brief chuckle escaped me. "Mean, huh?" I laughed a little more.

"Yes," She said simply. "Do you seriously not think you come off like an asshole when you say things like that?"

I lifted a brow again, "Things like..."

"When you open your mouth in general!" She exclaimed and crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts looking like the might pop out of her top at any moment. And she seriously thought she could do high fashion with those boobs? "Is that what you're going for? Being an asshole?"

I laughed again, "It's who I am. If you don't like it, you know where the door is."

She rolled her eyes, "So you're just resigned to being a jerk? What a sad way to live."

"My life is far from sad Chloe. Did you come here for some reason or were you looking for another argument?" I asked and glanced at her breasts again, looking back at the smug look on her face and knowing I'd been caught. God, she was going to gloat about this for weeks.

“Were your parents mean to you?” She asked, tilting her head to the side slowly.

I narrowed my eyes on her, “No.”

“So you learned this depressing way of life all by yourself?” She asked and I swear, I wanted to bang my head against a wall. Talking to her was like listening to a broken record. I'd tell her one thing and she'd ask the same damn questions over and over again.

“Did you learn to be a wild child bitch all by yourself?” I asked, knowing it was uncalled for but I couldn't help myself. I refused to speak to women the way my father did... but Chloe Lindsell? She wasn't exactly a lady.

“Nope, father was the wild child, mom was the bitch," She replied quickly with a shake to her head, grinning as she leaned back against the wall. “Well not anymore of course. But we can’t all use true love to change us for the better.”

“So you’re actually telling me you blame your parents for the way you are?”

“Not at all. Just saying a little bit of it runs in my blood. It’s my choice to be who I am. Just like it’s your choice to be….mean apparently. Why you would choose that is beyond me."

“Why would you choose to be a bitch?” I asked back, annoyed and wondering if there was a point to this witty banter.

“Because I'm in a dog eat dog business and sometimes I have to be. It’s not like I always am. Your girlfriend and I seemed to get along better than you do with her," She smirked.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

She raised a brow, “You give her sweet kisses goodbye, she had an overnight suitcase here, and you were about to mount her on your desk in the middle of the day before I so rudely cockblocked you? Sounds like a girlfriend to me.”

Overnight suitcase? Did she think I lived in my office? “We’re not exclusive,” I responded.

She pursed her lips as she looked over at my desk, “So what you’re saying is you have that same relationship with more than one woman?”

I gave her another curious look, considering why I was still talking to her instead of kicking her out. Or at least cutting to the work related part, getting down to why she was standing in my office, disrespecting me. “More or less…” I trailed off vaguely as usual, not quite sure why I chose to tell her as much as it was.

“So then you have many girlfriends.” She laughed. “And you think you don’t even have time for one.”

I shook my head quickly, resisting the urge to groan, "You make it sound like I invite a group of women out to dinner every night then bring them back to my house for a nightcap."

"Do you?" She asked with a brow shot upwards.

"Why does my life interest you?" I asked bluntly, watching her run her tongue across her lips slowly. I hated to admit it, but the gesture was distracting and a little tempting.

She rolled her eyes and reached into her huge, Mary Poppins style bag, pulling a piece of paper out. It looked like a contract. "I'm pulling my portfolio from your database," She informed me, extending the paper in my direction.

I laughed, more like snorted. "Really?" I scanned the paper, some sort of termination of her contract with me. All bullshit. "Why?"

"Why?!" She asked incredulously, her eyes wild. "Hm... maybe because you won't book me for anything and I'm a little tired of you treating me like I'm some hot mess who doesn't give a fuck about her career."

"Why does my opinion on you matter so much?" I asked another question, genuinely curious because if I were her? I would have hated me... I would have stopped trying long ago. The fact that she held her own and kept pushing herself on me? I had to admit it was impressive.

"You're the best agent we have," She said in a flat tone, her arms back over her chest since she knew I looked every damn time she did that.

I nodded my head, "Fine. You have the cover."

She raised an eyebrow at me and wet her lips, "The cover? Your girlfriend offered -"

"Walking in her show," I cut her off. "I know. I was here."

"Then..."

"Today I was casting for Lanvin. I had two slots to fill and you're one of the models going on the cover of Vogue," I said nonchalantly, trying to not show how that made me a little uneasy. "Don't disappoint me."

She took a few steps closer so that she was almost head to head with me, even in her sky high heels she was a good few inches shorter than me. “Why?” She asked slowly, raising a brow. Getting what she finally wanted and it still wasn't good enough. I'd never understand women. “You wouldn’t even hire me for a catalog, why risk putting me in Vogue if you don’t think I'm good?”

“I never said I didn’t think you were good. I said you were an embarrassment," I admitted, the bluntness coming off a hell of a lot harsher than I intended. I felt bad for the way I acted... and I never felt bad. “But your persistence, while frustrating, is impressive, and Evie seems to think you’re perfect for the shoot.”

“So this is to make your girlfriend happy?” She questioned, always with a million fucking questions. Models. They were all the same.

“She’s not my girlfriend," I said again and she opened her mouth to start to speak again, but I wasn't yet finished. "Just fyi? You fuck this up? And you wont need to end our contract. I’ll fire you.”

She swallowed, knowing there was no way I could fire her... her parents owned the agency. But still. I meant business and I didn't want her to ruin my reputation. “I won’t fuck up," She said seriously.

“We’ll see.”

“You still didn’t tell me why you’re risking it," She pointed out. “You obviously think I'm a party girl incapable of being professional.”

I grabbed a tabloid from my desk and tossed it to her. It was open to a page that mentioned seeing her out on a date with who an unknown source listed as a respectable banker, ie; boring yet real, not one of the normal guys she was usually seen fawning over. “Honestly? I didn’t expect you to be so serious about changing. You haven’t been seen doing anything remotely paper worthy since we last spoke. That says something.”

She laughed, “That guy was boring as hell. But if it got me Vogue I'm not complaining. At least he was nice to look at. Not as nice as you though.”

I resisted the urge to groan, “Just to get things straight? Just because I'm hiring you doesn’t mean I'm hitting on you. The opposite actually.”

She shrugged, “Doesn’t mean I can’t hit on you. You see it’s not paper worthy because you hate me and would never actually bend me over your desk…” She winked, putting that exact image in my head as she grabbed her contract back. “I wonder what your other girls are like….”