But Heather is right, ultimately.
We all know it.
“Honestly,” Heather says, now smiling, “the why doesn’t matter. We want to work with you, Skye.”
“Then I take my own photographs.”
“And she doesn’t pose with any toys or in any undergarments,” Braden adds, “including bustiers and corsets.”
I’m not thrilled with Braden jumping in to my negotiation, but I say nothing because I agree with him. I’m not going to be an underwear model or a BDSM model. No fucking way.
“I can agree to the undergarment restriction,” Heather says, “but corporate was very clear that they want the toys to be a part of the posts.”
“Then I’m sorry,” I say. “I agree with Braden. I’m happy to pose in your clothing line and post about it, but I can’t post pictures of myself using your toys.”
“Let me be clear,” Heather says. “You don’t need to be using the toys. I’m not asking you to do anything X-rated. Just holding up a toy and saying a few words about it.”
“No,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll check with corporate, then, and I’ll let them know your terms.” She glances at her phone. “Goodness, I have to run. I’m so sorry to cut our meeting short. This should cover your dinner.” She lays several fifty dollar bills on the table.
Braden picks them up and hands them back to her. “Please keep your money.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.”
“I insist.” Braden shoves the bills into her hand.
“All right, if you insist. Have a fabulous dinner.” She rises hastily, her napkin drifting to the floor.
Fabulous dinner? We haven’t even ordered yet.
Once Heather is out of earshot, I meet Braden’s gaze. “We need to chat.”
He peruses his menu. “About what?”
“About this. About you sticking your nose into my business.”
“Skye, when it comes to you posing half-naked holding up leather whips, that is definitely my business. Besides, they weren’t going to let you take your own pictures.”
“And I was going to negotiate that.”
“They’re paying less than Susanne.”
“They’re a smaller company than Susanne. I’m new at this. I need to take what I can get.”
“She let her claws show, Skye.”
I can’t deny his words. When Heather felt forced in a corner, she made it known what she truly thought of me. Problem is, she’s right. Both Braden and I know it. I just don’t feel like rehashing it at the moment. The waiter comes and takes our order. Braden orders a dozen oysters on the half shell, and I can’t help a smile.
“Any other news, Skye?”
“No. I’m pretty sure I just kissed the Crystal’s Closet contract goodbye.”
“You’re better off not being associated with a company that sells sexy undergarments and bedroom toys.” He clears his throat. “Are you sure there isn’t any other news?”
“Yeah.”
“No…impending trips, maybe?”
Shit. The New York trip early next week. How does he even know about that?
“You want to explain how you even know about that trip? Have you hacked into my emails or my phone?”
“Of course not. That would be a violation of the trust between us. Do you want to explain why you haven’t told me about the trip?”
“Honestly? I forgot about it. I’m sitting here after you busted into the middle of my meeting with a potential source of income and blew the whole deal. New York next week isn’t the first thing on my mind.” I meet his gaze. “Now, can you explain to me how you know about New York?”
“Eugenie called me.”
“What?” A spike of anger hits me.
“She called to let me know you’re meeting with her early next week, and she wants to take us out to dinner and asked what restaurants I liked.”
“What restaurants you like? Shouldn’t she be more interested in the restaurants I like?”
Ten more bricks to my gut. I already know Braden’s the only reason anyone’s interested in me.
“Of course, but she knows you’re not familiar with New York. I am.”
Nice try. “And she just assumed you’d be coming with me?”
Braden sighs. “Skye, stop making this bigger than it is.”
“Heather is completely right,” I say. “No one gives a shit what I think. They give a shit what Braden’s girlfriend thinks.”
He nods. “That’s a big part of it. You knew that from the beginning.”
He isn’t wrong. I do know that. When I was offered five thousand dollars to do a couple of Instagram posts, I kind of got over it.
Now? It’s bugging me, like a gnat gnawing under my skin.
But a girl needs to make a living.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me you’ll be commandeering my meeting with Susanne.”
“As a matter of fact, I won’t be. I’ll have meetings all day in the city as well for my own business. Remember my own business?”
Sucker punch to the stomach. In other words, my fledgling influencing business is nothing compared to Braden’s billion-dollar corporation.
Again, he isn’t wrong. But he’s still being a dick.