“Aren't you working?” I ask as I point a finger at his apron. Emmett pinches the straps with his fingers and grins at me. He has long canines that peek out of his lips a bit when he smiles. Cute.
“You mean this?” he asks as he drops the fabric and adjusts his beanie. “I'm just about to get off for lunch. Have you ever been to The Winged Ones? It's this fantastic sandwich shop that has a roof garden upstairs. It's a diamond in the rough, really. My treat.” His offer is appealing, to be sure, but I have an early morning casting, and I can't be tired or I get these massive bags under my eyes. It's an open call for a print campaign, too, which is rare and not something I can screw up. I bite my lip gently and try to let him down easily. He really is nice.
“I can't,” I say and he groans, reaching up to pull his beanie over his face.
“It's the apron, isn't it?” he asks as I take a moment to admire the swell of his muscular arms and the way his right eye peeks out from beneath the black knitted hat to examine me. “Hey, I understand though. You're wondering why you should be interested in a guy who works at the Super Smoothie, right?” I chuckle and shake my head.
“Not at all,” I say because that isn't it. I just have other things on my mind right now. First and foremost is how I'm going to be able to skip out of family dinner again. I've gotten away with it six days in a row, but tonight, Marlena is coming over, and there is no way she's going to miss my absence. Unfortunately, Mom has also chosen tonight to make her famous fried chicken. All of that grease makes me sick to my stomach, but I know I won't be able to escape that table without eating at least a piece. Already, I feel nauseous. “I just have this family thing tonight, so … ” I trail off and tuck some hair behind my ear. I feel like I'm in high school again. “How about Friday?” I blurt before Emmett gets the chance to say anything else. He pulls his beanie off his head and lays it in his lap. His brown hair is mussy and totally sexy.
“Friday is perfect,” he tells me and then passes me his phone. I plug in my number and hand it back to him. I could take his number, too, but I won't remember to call. It's nothing personal, but it's all up to him now. The ball is in his court. If he calls, I'll go. If he doesn't, then there will be others. Nothing against Emmett because he seems really nice and he's absolutely gorgeous, but I just don't have time to be serious with men right now. They are not my top priority; modeling is. Fashion is. “Hey, can I take your picture, too?” he asks as he shakes his phone back and forth with one hand.
“Why?” I ask as my eyes slide over to the line of girls that snake through the crumb covered tables in the food court, wind around the fountain near the escalators and trail back towards and inspiring window display of a local boutique. I hear they have some good stuff in there, and I've been meaning to go in for quite some time, but I'm just not happy with my body right now, and it's not fun to shop for clothes if you're not happy.
“You're so beautiful,” Emmett says, but the words roll off me like water on a duck's feathers, just slide right over and down my sides, giving me the chills but little else. I don't feel beautiful. If I was, the agency reps would've smiled at me or at the very least looked at my portfolio. I glance over my shoulder briefly and see that the bored woman with the lumpy chin is no longer bored. She's standing up and grinning from ear to ear, shaking the hand of a waspish girl with big ears and squinty eyes. She's skinny though, much skinner than me, definitely a size zero. People can talk all they want about the industry changing and about bans on too thin models, but that's just in the big games, just for show. Back here, at the starting line, it's all about skinny. It has been ever since Twiggy emerged as the new pretty, when Marilyn Monroe was out, and rail thin became in. “You know what?” Emmett says as he stands up and grabs his red tray in one hand. “Don't respond to that.” He spins the tray around with his other hand which is actually quite impressive and makes me smile. “That was weird. I don't know why I even said that.” Emmett chuckles and winks at me as he turns away. “See you on Friday,” he calls over his shoulder as he slides his beanie over his head with his other hand.
“See you on Friday,” I say.
Books by C.M. Stunich
The Seven Wicked Series
First
Second
Third
Fourth
Fifth
Sixth
Seventh
Houses Novels
The House of Gray and Graves
The House of Hands and Hearts and Hair
The House of Sticks and Bones
The Huntswomen Trilogy
The Feed
The Hunt
The Throne
Indigo Lewis Novels
Indigo & Iris
Indigo & The Colonel
Indigo & Lynx
Never say Never Trilogy
Tasting Never
Finding Never
Keeping Never
Stand Alone Novels
She Lies Twisted
Hell Inc.
DeadBorn
Broken Pasts
Fuck Valentine's Day
About the Author
C.M. Stunich was raised under a cover of fog in the area known simply as Eureka, CA. A mysterious place, this strange, arboreal land nursed Caitlin's (yes, that's her name!) desire to write strange fiction novels about wicked monsters, magical trains, and Nemean Lions (Google it!). She currently enjoys drag queens, having too many cats, and tribal bellydance.
She can be reached at [email protected], and loves to hear from her readers. Ms. Stunich also wrote this biography and has no idea why she decided to refer to herself in the third person.
Happy reading and carpe diem!
www.cmstunich.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Excerpt
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
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Keeping Never (Never say Never) Page 13