Of course I knew the answer to that—Soren. Specifically, my feelings for him.
“Hayden?” Ellis’s voice cut through the haze. “Hayden?”
“Yeah? Sorry,” I added, when I realized he’d introduced me to a new group of people I didn’t remember stopping in front of.
Ellis didn’t miss the reason for my distraction.
“I hear you’re walking in Fashion Week in Paris. How exciting,” one of the women said, giving the once-over I’d quickly gotten used to in the industry. Similar to the same way a butcher looks at a cut of meat to grade it accordingly.
“Yes. I can’t wait.” I mustered up the level of excitement I gauged was fitting.
I was excited, but Ellis had been booking me for a lot lately. Half of the bookings were in places I’d need to travel to. As a model, I’d scored the jackpot, but I was still that Nebraska girl who’d never flown on a plane up until two months ago when I boarded one to fly here.
Paris. Milan. Buenos Aires. I didn’t even know how to pronounce half the places I was going.
“And would you look at that dress,” the woman continued, waving at me. “You were made to wear that dress.”
“It would be even more impactful if she’d lose the jacket,” Ellis added under his breath.
My tight smile was my answer to that. He’d been suggesting I ditch the jacket all night, but I’d held my ground. It wasn’t like the jacket was a bulky, frumpy thing that didn’t match. I’d made sure to pick the right one to complement the gown.
“Why not?” he whispered to me while the woman turned to her friends and started speculating on who the designer was.
“Because I promised someone I’d leave it on tonight.”
A deep-throated chuckle came from him. “College boy? Community college boy? That’s who you promised?”
My eyebrows came together. He was getting more brazen with his insults aimed at Soren, and I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go so out of the way to degrade him.
“Soren,” I said slowly, my expression serious. “I promised him I’d leave it on.”
“Why?”
“Because the dress is a little revealing.” The corner of my mouth lifted when I remembered the way Soren had staggered back a few steps when he saw the back of my dress.
“You’re a model. You should be used to revealing. A little, a lot, all if need be.” Ellis turned to face me, one dark brow carved into his forehead.
Warmth drained into my veins. He might have been Ellis Lawson, the man who’d given the world more supermodels than anyone else, but he was still my agent. I had to remind myself of that when I felt him trying to hold his position over me.
“I’m not a model right now. I’m me. Hayden.” I blinked at him, my hand going to my chest. “My life as a model is different from my real life.”
He chuckled, clinking his glass against mine. “Forgive me. I forget you’re still in the idealistic phase of the business.” Before I could say anything, he lifted his glass in Soren’s direction. “I’m only saying this because I’m your agent and have your best interest at heart, but it concerns me when I see this kind of controlling behavior. Even if it’s only in the form of a jacket staying in place throughout the night. That’s how it starts.” Ellis scanned the jacket wrapped around me like it was a pair of shackles. “Tonight, he’s telling you to keep your coat on so no one can see your body. Next month, he’s ordering you to stay home so no one can see you at all. It’s not healthy, and I’ve seen too many models fall into controlling relationships.”
I’d only finished one glass of champagne, so it couldn’t be the alcohol messing with my head. But surely I hadn’t heard him right. Only one way to find out.
“Controlling relationship?” I repeated the term I thought I’d heard. “He’s my roommate. We’re not in a relationship.”
Ellis steered me away from the women still going on about my dress and leaned in closer than seemed necessary. “You might look at him and see a roommate.” His hot breath coated the side of my cheek, his hand adhering to my back again. “But when he looks at you, it isn’t a roommate he sees.”
As if Soren knew we were talking about him, he glanced over. He seemed to know exactly where I was in the room full of people. He didn’t wave or wink, tip his head or smile, but something in his eyes acknowledged me; something in them that had my lungs petrifying for half a breath.
He looked away a moment later, but it took me a while longer to recover.
“How does he look at me?” I whispered, but Ellis was meandering away. “How does he look at me?” I repeated, louder this time.
Ellis glanced over his shoulder, a gleam in his eye. A gleam. What was I supposed to do with that?
“Think I’m okay to impose my existence on you now?” Soren shouldered up beside me, holding out a fresh glass of champagne and taking my empty one.
I shot him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. For dragging you here and then ditching you.”
“It’s all good. I’m an expert at mingling.”
Something on his cheek caught my attention. Lipstick.
“Yeah, mingling.” My eyes narrowed as I scanned the room, searching for the lips that matched the shade on his cheek.
“You okay?”
Why was I so upset? Why was my blood boiling? Why was I still staring at the mark on his cheek?
“I want to leave,” I announced before chugging the fresh glass of champagne as I whisked out of the room.
“I’m on board with that decision. This bow tie feels like a noose.” Soren pulled at his collar and bow tie, falling into step beside me.
We were almost out of the ballroom when someone stepped in our path. Well, she stepped into his path.
Matching lip girl.
Jealousy felt like a living thing inside me right then. A putrid, crippling stew of tar-like substance. She was obviously a model, but not one I recognized. I found myself targeting in on her every flaw as she rested her hand on his chest, laughing about something he’d just said.
I was bigger than this. Better than reducing myself into a spiteful, bitter person who pinpointed the flaws in others.
“I’ll meet you outside.” I shoved by them, dropping my empty glass on one of the serving trays at the doorway. “Take your time.”
I was still wincing as I whisked down the hall toward the doorway. It was one thing to think the thoughts of a raging bitch and another to vocalize them. By the time I’d made it through the front door, I heard his steps jogging behind me. He even called my name a few times, but I kept moving. I couldn’t let him see the emotion on my face, the hurt in my eyes. I had to recompose myself before I let him see me.
“Hayden!” His footsteps pounded across the concrete walkway, catching up to me.
I focused on hailing one of the cabs waiting in a line in the driveway.
He paused beside me, his breath coming quickly from his chase. “What was that about?”
Sniffing, I crossed my arms, still gazing down the driveway. “What was what about?”