Home > The Sham(2)

The Sham(2)
Author: Stella Gray

“So what’s our move?” I ask. My coffee tastes bitter now. It’s growing cool in my cup.

“We’re going to take control of the narrative,” Tori says confidently.

“Control the narrative,” I repeat, nodding. “Okay. So we give the media a new story to chew on. Something to redirect their attention and make us look human again. I’m all in.”

“We’re so glad to hear that,” Tori says, giving me an encouraging smile.

Like I said, I wasn’t so sure about her when she’d first come into my older brother’s life via arranged marriage. Who even did that kind of thing anymore? I almost shudder.

Admittedly, though, it seems to be working for him. He’s changed, and I can’t even say anything bad about it. Tori has made him a more level-headed, calmer version of himself. Still, there’s no way in hell you’d catch me shacking up with an arranged wife. Or any wife, for that matter. I enjoy a variety of pussy too much to settle down.

“Okay. A new story. Let me think.” I spread my hands. “How about a few social media ads with our models, talking about how we launched their careers? Maybe I can organize a photo shoot with some of our new diverse models cuddling pets from the local animal shelter. Everyone loves puppies. Or get our employees to do some publicized community service?”

Stefan shakes his head. “No. We need to focus on you.”

“Me? Why?”

He glances at Tori, and she sets her cup down and clasps her hands.

“It isn’t just the agency’s reputation that’s the problem…” She offers a gentle smile. “It’s yours. The media’s been crucifying you lately—”

“They’re assholes,” I can’t help myself from interjecting. “I can’t walk out the door without a camera in my face, and half the time they’re slapping made-up headlines over photos of me getting blackout drunk from a year ago—”

“They hate you,” Stefan agrees. “We’ve all done our best to rebrand, but you seem hell-bent on keeping the Zoric image in the gutter.”

“That’s not fair.” I lean forward, my anger rising. “I can’t be the only twenty-five-year-old who likes to visit the occasional strip club on the weekends or bring a couple women home from the club to f—” Stefan clears his throat. “To entertain,” I finish.

“But you’re the only one who works for a company formerly run by a sex trafficker. And it’s public knowledge that you slept with half the models. It’s not a good look,” he points out harshly. “The last headline I saw called you a sex- and money-hungry monster, following in the footsteps of the fallen Zoric patriarch—”

“So what, then? Are you trying to fire me?” I say, tapping my finger impatiently against my coffee cup. “Look, I do what I want. The media doesn’t like it? That’s their problem.”

Stefan practically jumps to his feet. “It’s not, though, Luka. It’s our problem.”

There’s nothing I can say because I know he’s right. I throw back the rest of my lukewarm coffee as if it’s the drink I so desperately want right now.

“Luka,” Tori interjects softly. “You’re the most notorious playboy in Chicago. We know you’ve changed, but the public needs to see a bigger effort.”

I lean back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I didn’t realize I was the agency’s poster boy. How nice to suddenly realize that I alone am the entire face of our family business.”

“You’re the Executive VP of Talent, and a Zoric who’s unfortunately grown up in the public eye. Of course you’re a face of this business,” Stefan says. “Take this seriously. Please.”

Suddenly, it hits me like a physical blow: he’s disappointed in me. Until our father’s criminal activity blew up, no one in the family had taken much time to be disappointed, or anything else, in me. Their approval never really mattered.

Until now.

My mother died when I was only four, and my father was such a textbook workaholic that my siblings and I were raised by a series of nannies. Even as a kid Stefan was defiant and ill-behaved, and our little sister Emzee was the baby, but our nannies always said I was a perfect angel—I learned pretty early on how to get what I wanted from a woman. They spoiled me rotten. As a result, I grew up doing whatever the hell I wanted, with few consequences.

By the time I hit my teenage years, I had realized that there wasn’t a screw-up horrible enough to make my father notice me. Didn’t matter if I slept with Emzee’s babysitters, crashed one of Dad’s Porsches into a hedge, or drained the entire contents of the liquor cabinet. I was invisible. So the way things are now—going from being mostly ignored, to suddenly being weighed down by expectations and responsibilities—has been an uncomfortable transition. I’m not opposed to doing what’s right for my family, but they could cut me a fucking break.

My shoulders sag a little, and I rest my forearms on my knees. “I’m barely drinking, but if you want, I’ll quit dating so much. Won’t be seen with as many random women.”

I’ve cut back on my one-night stands, and certainly none of the women I’ve been out with recently have been connected to our modeling agency in any way. Even I had the sense to realize I couldn’t keep fucking the models after what my father did.

Tori takes a sip of her coffee and catches my eye. “We need to seem family-oriented. A clean, stable corporation.”

Relief washes over me. That’s easy. “Fine, then you two have a baby. The public loves babies. See if you can shoot for twins or triplets, yeah? Problem solved. We done here?”

I start to rise, but my brother’s voice stops me cold. “Sit down.”

Stefan looks to the ceiling, his jaw tensing, and Tori frowns and says, “We’re not going to have a kid just to fix the agency’s PR status. Besides, we still have our hands full adjusting to Max and Anya’s role in our lives.”

Finding out she had a seven-year-old half sibling was a shock for Tori, and she’s been slowly integrating Max and his mother (Stefan’s ex-girlfriend, if you can believe that) into her life. She puts up a hand to give me pause as if she knows what I might say next. “And we’ve already exploited as much positive PR as we can from that. We don’t want overkill.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” I say. “But you’re both looking at me like you want me to do something. You’re crazy if you think I’m having a baby. And don’t even suggest I get a dog, or I’ll know you’ve both gone off the deep end.”

Tori and Stefan look at each other and I get the sudden feeling like I’d better hang on tight to something.

“We had something a little more demonstrative in mind,” Tori says sweetly.

“Like what?”

Tori clears her throat, then shoots my brother a pointed look.

Stefan looks me square in the eye. “You need to get married.”

 

 

Brooklyn

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

I never thought I’d get this chance again.

My black stilettos clip loudly on the floor as I stride into Danica Rose Management, formerly known as KZ Modeling. It feels surreal that I made it to these offices. I had a chance to audition with them three years ago, but that opportunity quickly turned into a disaster and I never went through with it. So when a friend told me about this latest call, I booked an immediate flight from LA to Chicago. No way am I missing another stab at making my dreams come true.

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