They call me a little wound-up. See, I'm upset because I've always been stuck.

They call me a little wound-up. See, I'm upset because I've always been stuck. by pinklipstiiick

(flashback)

I fingered through the Polaroids on the desk, women of all shapes, sizes, color, etc staring back at me with the same blank look on their face. I didn't know what it was about high fashion, but I'd take a smiling woman over this any day. "We've narrowed it down to these three," My assistant pushed pushed three in my direction; two blondes and a brunette. I didn't have a type, but the blondes? I wasn't going to lie, these two girls looked identical. It was easy to group the whole blonde hair and blue eyed type into one category and while I tried avoiding that, sometimes it couldn't be ignored. They looked like sisters at least.

"If I squint my eyes? They could be the same girl," I replied and set one blondes picture on top of the other, narrowing it down to two girls just like that. "Bring these two in and let the other girl go."

She nodded and left, not more than a minute later two girls walking in wearing not more than a plain light blue bikini and sky high heels. Times like these? I loved my job. "Over here," She told them as they stood side by side, the blondes blue eyes vibrant from the blue she had on and the brunettes eyebrow lifted at me like she might be undressing me. I took my job seriously though, which meant never sleeping with clients.

"Profile," I said loud enough for them to hear, letting them turn to the side as I looked at the Polaroids that had their names and measurements underneath. The brunette was like a stick. Pushing a whopping 6 feet in those heels with killer legs... but the blonde? God those curves. My eyes took them in one at a time, my mind made up without any hesitation. We were shooting for Beach Bunny swimwear and they preferred a body over the high fashion look, clearly only one of these girls would meet their expectations. "Turn," I said next, biting back a groan. Yeah, my mind was definitely made up. "Forward again," I added with my eyes back on their names. Chloe Lindsell and Edita Vandersteel. The first name was leaping off the page practically. Notorious party girl model who was rivaling Kate Moss for the title of hot mess.... Okay, that was a little drastic, but if she kept up this lifestyle? She'd be looking at that title in a few years. "That's all," I said flatly, knowing I'd have to go back through the stack of models again and find another girl.

My assistant blinked at me and I glared at her, her posture straightening up as she attempted to shuffle the girls out of the room while her voice was barely audible, "We'll call you."

The girls left and I turned my laptop on, a voice cutting into my thoughts before the machine could even come on, “I know what “We’ll call you” means.”

I groaned and looked up, finding Chloe in my office, “I'm glad you’re not an idiot Miss Lindsell.”

“Oh good, you do know who I am," She spat, grinning to herself like it was such an accomplishment being born into the right family. “I know what it looks like when a casting agent likes you and you did, so what exactly went south?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, eying her over my laptop and trying not to look at her cleavage.

“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 fuck me, but then you just dismissed me so you might want to give me an explanation.”

I raised my eyebrows, wondering if she was always this pleasant at... I glanced at my clock. Dear god, it wasn't even noon yet. “Honestly it has nothing to do with your look and everything to do with your reputation," I admitted, shrugging since it was that simple.

“Of being a good model?” She questioned. “Or are you talking about my personal life which has nothing to do with my career?!”

I laughed, leaning back in my chair and shaking my head, “Nothing to do with your career? Your parents own the company," I pointed out. “I’d say that makes your personal life and your professional one pretty equal.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, “So you’re not hiring me because I'm what….spoiled?”

“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?”

“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," I grinned, wondering why she was still standing there.

“……authority? Really?”

I held both hands up before clasping them together behind my head, "I'm only doing my job Miss Lindsell."

"Will you stop calling me that?" She crossed her arms over her chest like she might be trying to prove a point.

"And what would you prefer I call you instead?" I asked and kept my eyes locked on hers since her breasts looked like they might burst out of that tiny bikini top at any second. It felt like some sort of test and I'm sure it worked on every casting director before me. Girls like Chloe Lindsell? They knew how to get her way... and I'd put all my money on it that her dad still called her Princess. 

"Chloe," She said flatly.

"Alright Chloe," I set my elbows back on my desk with my 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?"

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

I 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," I said seriously and added a smile, knowing this girl could easily run to her mum and beg her to fire me... she probably would too. "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?"

She stared at me blankly and blinked a few times, shifting her weight around since those heels couldn't be comfortable. "Is this a trick question?" She asked and I shook my head.

"No."

"Because it's a job and I'm a model," She 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?" I set my chin in my palm and kept staring at her, "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?” I asked, semi amused since the girl didn't have to work a day in her life but still did. Not that modeling was necessarily hard, but with her reputation? I'd expect her to sleep all day and be out partying all night, every night.

“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,” She said, making a valid point. But still? I wasn't casting her.

“As cute as your little “woe is me” rich girl is? I do have actual work to get back to.”

She blinked at me before raising her voice, “Do you like being a casting agent?!”

I looked back up and rose a brow, “This sounds like a threat to me.”

She 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," I said simply, chuckling to myself. I wasn't amused anymore... annoyed would be a better word.

“How can you be so sure?”

I 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," She snapped back, that twisted look on her face not working for her.

“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 said monotonously, the conversation starting to sound like a broken record I no longer wanted to listen to.

“You are a waste of my time," She growled, turning around and storming out as my eyes watched her ass until it was out of my view. I set my head on my desk and groaned. A little blonde princess who thought she ran the place? What the hell had I gotten myself into?


(present)

"... tonight?"

 I caught Ben's last word, shoving my hands into my pockets in a daze and looking at my friend. "Are you trying to ask me out on a date again? One of these days you'll have to give up," I joked and managed a smile. My parents were flying in for mothers day. It might have been my idea and I bought the tickets... but fuck was I regretting it now. "You're not my type."

He laughed and shook his head, "You know that I'm too good for you instead."

"Probably," I let my laugh match his, his sister turning the corner and heading straight for us. Resisting the urge to groan, I looked away instead. Okay, I still groaned, but it was so quiet I was sure neither of them heard it.

"I need to talk to him," She said all matter of factly.

I looked down at Chloe, finding her eyes on me. They were deep blue, the kind of bedroom eyes that would normally bring me to my knees.. but with her? She was just kind of awful. I mean, don't get me wrong, she was hot as hell and feisty. But if you weren't bringing the girl back home to have fun in bed, feisty wasn't really as cute on most girls as they thought it was. "Let me excuse you two then," I looked back at Ben and grinned, leaving him to deal with his sister.

"No," She kept talking. "I meant you, Mr. Williams."

One full year here and she still called me that.

Ben slapped my back and smirked, "I'll see you later man."

I shot him one of my 'I hate you looks' as he walked away, bringing my eyes back to Chloe who had her arms crossed firmly over her chest. I might not like her much, but the view down her top? I wasn't complaining. "How could I help you Miss Lindsell?" I asked with a smile.

“Why do you like my brother and not me?” She asked, watching Ben leaving then looking at me.

I rose a brow at her, “What?”

She held her gaze on me, "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.”

Ben's biggest fan? This girl was ridiculous. I widened my eyes, “Compute?” I smirked and ran a hand over the slight scruff covering my face, “First of all, don’t flatter yourself to think that I’d ever want to kill myself just by spending time around you.”

Her jaw set, “And?”

“And secondly? You and your brother are nothing alike," I said seriously. They were complete opposites in every sense.

She pursed her lips, “But you at least gave him a chance.”

“It’s not like I hired him over you Miss Lindsell," I smirked.

“Chloe.”

I grinned and leaned back against my heels, letting the wall hold me up, “If we’re going to be on a first name basis then it should be two ways.”

She sighed and folded her arms tighter across her chest, “Fine.”

“Fine….” I trailed off, enjoying teasing the blonde a little too much maybe.

“Fine…Tristan," She added.

I grinned wider, “Great. Now I’ll ask you….Chloe.” I paused to let her soak up the way I said her 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?”

She narrowed her eyes further, the normal look she had on her pretty face whenever we spoke. Or argued more like it. “I want to be considered for the diamond ad," She said finally.

"Okay," I said with a small shrug, watching her eyes widen at how easy this was.

"Okay....?" She uncrossed her arms to move her hands to her hips, the way she kept touching herself a little distracting. I could easily see how she used her body to get her way... I was only a man after all.

"I'll consider you," I replied, folding my arms in front of me since I felt bad for leaving out the rest of what I was thinking. I already considered her and now I couldn't feel bad when I went with casting the leggy redhead for the diamond ad.

She studied my expression and I swear, the way she was looking at me? I felt like she was reading my thoughts. "Is that your smart ass way of saying you already have and I'm not even close to being one of the candidates?" She asked, right on target.

"Insulting me won't make me like you any more," I retorted and smirked at her.

"You're unbearable!" She exclaimed after a full minute of just staring at me, her cheeks pink and her eyes narrowed on her. "Why? Because I'm spoiled? You're still not over that?"

I shook my head quickly, annoyed that she still thought that was why I wouldn't cast her. Her last name could be anything but Lindsell and as long as she had that "look at me! I'm an attention whore!" attitude, I still wouldn't cast her. "It's the way you carry yourself, your reputation," I said seriously. "It's like you don't take yourself serious,  so why should I?"

Her arms were back, folded across her chest, "Excuse me?!"

"I research my clients."

"Good for you."

"Have you ever actually Googled your name?" I asked her, not giving her 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?”

“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," She snapped at me.
I widened my eyes for a second before recovering. I had to admit, not many girls ever snapped at me like that. Definitely never a client. “Apparently you don’t realize that what you do outside of the job does reflect poorly on this company and on your work ethic," I replied, her only proving my point further and making me realize that we were wasting our time.

“What I do outside of the job is none of your business," She replied, stepping closer to me, her sweet scent wafting through the air as she invaded my space.

“If that’s what you think? Then you are none of my business at all," I retorted sharply.

She took a deep breath and a step back, “Fine.” She swallowed and it looked like it pained her a little, “So then what do I have to do to get into your good graces?”

I blinked at her in confusion, “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.”

”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?” I asked, raising a brow and walking a step closer.

“I don’t get rejected a lot Tristan. When I do it sticks with me," She admitted.

"That's not surprising," I said to myself, more like muttering it under my breath. I didn't expect her to hear it, but nothing seemed to get past her.

She quirked a brow, almost perking up at my words. I think I'd give anything to be able to read Chloe Lindsell's mind, because I was at a complete loss with this girl. She played the dumb blonde act perfectly, but was too quick on her toes to actually be stupid. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me..." She trailed off, lowering her voice to add a quiet, "Not that it's exactly nice..."

I grinned, "Yeah, I've heard that I'm an asshole."

"I won't disagree with you there," She 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 peoples relationships," I told her, knowing how much that bugged her brother. "Don't you think that if they were supposed to be together, then they'd be together?"

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

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

Her mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed, "I wasn't bribing you!"

"No?" I stared at her with a more serious face, "So you keep pushing your breasts together every five minutes for the hell of it?"

“That’s not to bribe you," She said after about ten minutes of silence. I just widened my eyes, expecting her to go on. “It’s a natural thing when I'm around attractive men," She added and shrugged, me almost missing what she said since it was said so nonchalantly.

“Excuse me?” My grin returned and I noticed Chloe stare at my mouth for a good five seconds before she responded.

“To be fair, you keep looking…so…”

“Are you saying that you’re attracted to me?”

She shook her head, “I said you were attractive. That’s different.”

I took a step closer, “Not by much.”

She took a step back and blinked, “That doesn’t really matter does it?”

I stared at her for a second, wondering what went on in that pretty head of hers. “No I guess it doesn’t," I said finally.

“So then we’re settled. I didn’t try to bribe you.”

“I'm still not convinced," I 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?”

I nodded my head and smiled a little more genuinely at the blonde, "Take life more seriously, don't treat your career like its a joke and wear panties when you go out in public."

She narrowed her eyes on me, "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," I retorted, knowing it was a low blow but seriously, how long was she going to play the party girl model role? She was one of those girls with daddy issues, then when you met their dad, you were only more confused. Having met Corey Lindsell and getting to know him pretty well, the girl had no reason to have daddy issues. He adored her... and not in a creepy way.

"You're an asshole."

I grinned slowly, "But an attractive one, right?"

"I take it back!" She shook her head and I laughed, not sure I had heard her correctly.

"You take it back?" I repeated, laughing harder. "You can't take that back. You think I'm attractive... Did I say thank you earlier?"

“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," She rattled on while I just rose a brow at her, wondering how long and how fast she could speak without taking a breath. “You’ve done your research, has anyone ever complained about me?”

“Not specifically…” I 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 it’s 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 than fuck you.”

I smirked as I folded my arms over my broad chest, “Very professional.” She bent over to fix the buckle on her shoe, her ass up in the air without a care in the world. Classy. “What was second of all?” I asked as she stood back up to turn around.

She smirked, “I always wear panties in public. You probably just witnessed.”

“Oh? So then the great view of your ass in the tabloids is what….photoshopped?”

She shook her head and stepped closer,  “Great view of my ass? Very professional.” She smirked, using my words against me, “Have you never seen a thong before? 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?" I asked point blank, comfortable with my sexuality. Plus hearing that? It wasn't the first time.

She pursed her lips and parted them slowly, the look coming off somewhat seductive. With a shrug she smirked, "It'd be a waste if you were."

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

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

"Chloe," I corrected myself, glancing down at her chest since I was only a man and the dress she had on? Strapless and cleavage for days.

"I know you're straight. Do you think I don't notice the way you stare?" She quirked a brow before flashing me a cocky smirk.

I let out a chuckle and shook my head, "Are you always this cocky? It must be the only thing you and your brother have in common."

She narrowed her eyes on me, "Am I wasting your time right now? I'd hate for you to have Ben withdrawals."

"Very considerate of you," I grinned, reminding myself to tell him that one later.

She shook her head, “I'm going to do what you said.”

I rose a brow, “Do what I said?”

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

I chuckled slightly, “I’d love to see the day.”

She stepped closer, big on evading my personal space, “I have two questions though.”

The corner of my mouth twitched and I nodded, “Shoot.”

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

I nodded, “I might. What’s the second question?”

She licked her lips slowly as my eyes moved to them, “If I was to hit on you….”

I grinned again and then swallowed, “I don’t date models.”

She made a show of sighing dramatically. “Then it’s really too bad I'm not just doing it for the hell of it," She winked, turning to walk away.