Breath Of Life

Chapter One

Quinn

“There’s no denying you’re hot, sweetheart, but all the pretty in the world isn’t going to make up for the fact that you’re over an hour late for your call time.”

Arching an eyebrow, I cross my arms beneath my breast. “Sweetheart?” I spit the words out like sour milk, and wrinkle my nose.

“Baby? Doll?” He shrugs and wiggles the toothpick dangling from the side of his mouth. He’s hot in a rugged way—long, brown hair is slicked back from an angular face, and his tan makes his deep set lapis-colored eyes pop. The dark fringe of eyelashes surrounding those blue orbs makes me want to pluck the curly hairs out with tweezers. Why is it men who get all the beautiful eyebrows and lashes? A long, Roman nose is almost disguised by a neatly kept mustache that curls up slightly, and sharp, angular cheekbones are lessened by the dark scruff on his chin.

It’s been a long time since I’ve paid this much attention to a man. I want to kick myself in the ass for allowing it to be this one in particular. In a short-sleeved black T-shirt that shows off brightly colored ink and a muscular arms, he’s got a masculine appeal that makes my body tingle. This is what happens when I go too long without getting laid. My libido kicks on for the first attractive male I banter with.

“I think you’ve got me confused with someone else, my friend,” I say.

He rakes his gaze over me slowly and shakes his head. “No. A looker like you would be impossible to mistake.”

Warmth spreads in my belly, and I turn up the ice to combat it. “That’s cute. You think I’m a model who’ll giggle and eat your compliments up like chocolate cake?”

“Never said that. We’re not interested in having you work for us.”

I snort. After I haul my ass down here on my only day off in God knows how long he’s ready to fire me? “Good thing you’re not my boss then, huh?” I ask.

When his mouth drops open, I laugh and extend my hand. “I’m a makeup artist. I’ll be the assistant extraordinaire to Efia Bello for the day.” I hold out my arms and give a quick curtsy as I grip the handle of my bright pink three tier case.

“I’m guessing that’s not clothing then,” he mumbles more to himself than me. “I’m sorry about that. We have a model who went M.I.A. today and you fit her description.”

“Mmmm. If that’s the way you charm women, maybe I’m not shocked she didn’t show up.” I pat his chest; he’s firm without being the rock solid that only comes from hours in the gym.

He smirks. “I wasn’t even trying just then, darling.” Pursing my lips, I shake my head no. “That one doesn’t do it for you, either?” he asks.

“Observant, aren’t you? I’m not really the nickname type.”

His eyes sparkle, and he stands a little straighter, like a predator who caught the scent of its next meal. “That’s because you haven’t gotten one from me,” he drawls.

“Hmm. There’s a thin line between confident and cocky.” I exaggerate my eye roll.

“I’ve heard that,” he says with a nod.

I bet you have. “Right. Can you show me where Efia is? I’m her relief.”

“I can.” He pauses. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t throw it at you,” I retort.

He studies me, and I can tell he’s not used to being shot down. It’s adorable. After giving me a small nod, he starts to walk toward the graffiti-covered wall they’ll be using as the background for the shots with the cars that make me drool. I don’t know much more than how to change a tire and oil, but I can tell from the make and models these babies are vintage.

“You’d rather I guess?”

I give a quick laugh. “I’d love to watch you try.” My name is not usual in the least.

“Oh, I like a good challenge.”

“I’m sure you do,” I say, forcing myself to play nice. I usually eat men like him for breakfast, but he’s my boss by proxy, and I’m not as unaffected by his charisma as I pretend to be. There’s something more to him than the laid back, cocksure front he puts up.

“I brought you a present,” the man whose name I realize I don’t know either says.

Efia glances up. “Oh, thank God.”

“No Rachel yet? Can you go see if you can rustle her up?” a bearded man asks.

“So I can tell her not to bother?” the man beside me asks.

“No, she was held up in a freak accident that happened on the highway. A carrot truck jackknifed and overturned. It was on the news and everything, so it’s legit.”