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The Beauty and the CEO

Page 2

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In an attempt to flirt, Zoe licked her lips, tasting the hint of honey in the concoction she used for lip balm. The response she received from the gorgeous man was a lopsided, boy-next-door smile mixed with a hint of danger. The sensual curve of his full lips begged to challenge the question every makeup-wearing woman pondered: Was he worth smearing her lipstick for? His lips parted into a dashing smile and crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. An older model? Twenty-five? Twenty-eight? She’d heard RC was going in a new direction. It was about time they added someone more age appropriate to their ads for men. The men in the ads for shaving, lotions and other male grooming products were handsome but also extremely young—as in barely-legal-young. Under thirty as a male was far from old, but in the modeling world he might be ready to retire.

“Hello,” he said.

His deep baritone touched her soul. A powerful shiver trickled down her spine while her knees weakened. “Hi,” she replied.

With the limited skills she had in the flirting department, Zoe batted her lashes and damn it if her cell phone didn’t ring. The old-school Prince song indicated the hotline for one of her closest friends. It was almost a bat signal, and when that song rang, Zoe picked up the phone and answered. “Hey, what’s up?”

Lexi Pendergrass Reyes’s cheerful voice came over the line loud and clear. “I wanted to wish you luck before your interview.”

“You’re so sweet,” Zoe said as she offered an apologetic smile to the handsome man. Zoe stepped backward and did a little spin in an attempt to give the stranger a better view of her angles in her black pencil skirt and red silk Rochas blouse decorated with oversize magnolias. She’d received the blouse at a Vogue photo shoot last year, another lucky memento of her work. “Can I call you right back?”

“Of course,” Lexi said, “but don’t forget. On top of wishing you the luck you don’t need, I do have a huge favor to ask of you.”

The flashing triangle light above the elevator doors indicated it was coming in a few seconds. “The answer is yes. I don’t even have to know what it is.”

“You say that now. Bye, girl.”

Zoe swiped the icon on her cell to hang up the call. She took a deep breath, ready to speak to her male model again. As a makeup artist, she noticed he needed no cover-up. She’d known some models and actors who’d paid to have cheekbones as sculpted as his.

“So,” he began, leaning against the marble wall near the up and down arrow-shaped buttons of the elevator.

“So,” Zoe repeated.

She was prepared to have some form of meaningful conversation in the span of the few seconds provided before the elevator arrived, but that was interrupted when the doors on the first floor, leading to the building’s cafeteria, opened up. It was not unusual in a place like this to run into some of the local celebrities. A gaggle of girls screamed at the sight of Zoe. Zoe and her magic beauty box kits were the reason certain faces graced the covers of top beauty magazines. She’d decorated the faces of movie stars, governors and their spouses, singers and television reality stars. Torn between not having seen these ladies in quite some time and getting to the meat of this conversation with the hot guy, Zoe offered another apologetic smile. The man stepped forward and extracted a business card from his back pocket to give to her, then winked before turning to take the door into the stairwell.

“Hey, guys,” said Zoe, slipping the card into the front of her purse. “What’s going on today?”

The half-dozen girls began to complain all at once about having to come in this morning for a music video which was being filmed in the cafeteria. Something about their makeup not being right and begging Zoe to ace the interview.

“Girl, that outfit is giving me life! There really should be no reason for you to interview,” said Clarita Benson. She was a six-foot-three model in flats.

The next tallest was six-two, a former volleyball star turned model. Her blond hair stuck out at the ends like straw. “I heard Marcus Ravens say you were the best person for the job.”

“I guess we’ll see in a little bit.” Zoe shrugged her shoulders and craned her neck. Thankfully, the elevator doors opened with a loud ding. “Listen, ladies, I’ve got to head off and ace this interview.”


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