FIRST PAGE SATURDAY: Contemporary
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I looked at my watch and sighed stealing a glance at my boss. Convinced he was going to have an aneurism if the model didn’t show up soon, I stood to the side out of his way. Warren Carlyle was pacing, and with the extra fifty pounds or so he was carrying on his frame, he would be sweating through his expensive suit at any moment. This had to be his worst nightmare as the senior vice president on a million-dollar advertising campaign to be waiting on Katrina Tross, a hot, upcoming model who was the It Girl of this last year.
The time and place had been confirmed with her agent yesterday, but no one was answering the phones now. I didn’t know Warren very well as I hadn’t worked for him that long, but I had witnessed his displeasure and was not looking forward to the fallout if the Cassius Rum ad campaign was put in jeopardy.
The coupled facts that we’d booked Katrina Tross eight months before her asking price had nearly quadrupled and now she was a no-show probably wasn’t coincidence, but I kept my thoughts to myself. No one wanted to hear from an administrative assistant who’d been part of the advertising world for all of four months. If I was lucky, it would only be for nine more months, then I’d have enough saved up for law school.
I glanced over at the waiting professionals: the costly hair stylist flown in from New York, the fashion designer, and one of the best photographers in the business, Bart Chesley, whose asking price was most likely a large chunk of the budget for the day. He was an older man who looked a bit eccentric with his ponytail and hipster jeans that no one with gray hair should probably be wearing. He was practically steaming over his time being wasted and seemed to have had no issue telling Warren that a few minutes earlier. Unlike most people, he was not intimidated by my boss.
Thinking it couldn’t get worse, Warren’s eyes bulged as a tall man in a well-tailored suit strode in. Warren’s entire demeanor changed instantly as he rushed to greet the stranger. It was obvious this man was in charge in some way.
After watching he and Warren walk closer, I sucked in my breath as I caught my first glimpse of him. He was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. Tall, with broad shoulders and sporting short, dark black hair, he had features that were classically chiseled.
Wondering what color his eyes were, I couldn’t see them from where I was standing. I was staring, but thankfully I wasn’t the only one as Trisha the makeup girl sidled up next me.
“Wow he’s even hotter in person. All that money and a nice package, he is something,” she acknowledged.
I nodded and then realized she spoke as though she knew him. “Who is he?”
Trisha laughed. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new. That’s Josh Singer, as in owner, and CEO of Gamble Enterprises. That includes Gamble Advertising, Gamble Properties, and Gamble Productions. He’s the only man I know that can make Warren sweat it.”
I knew the name but had never seen the man. “He seems really young to have all that,” I replied.
Shrugging, Tricia supplied, “I think the advertising and hotels came from his father. The movie production thing is newer.”
“He looks pissed,” I remarked, watching him talk to Warren in a terse tone that I couldn’t quite hear.
“Yeah, well, he’s known for his temper. His divorce to that Brazilian supermodel a few years ago was quite the tabloid fodder. I heard it was quite messy.”
We both observed him make a quick phone call and then go over to speak with Bart the photographer, who obviously felt comfortable enough with Josh that he let his own frustration show.
“We’re running low on daylight here, Josh. Where the hell is she?” Bart grumbled.
“You know he’s kind of intense-looking, but maybe that’s what makes him hotter, you know?” Trisha said sighing.
All I could do was nod. I snapped out of it with Warren’s barking.
Walking quickly over to the three men, I met the dark green eyes of Josh Singer. I tried to focus on my boss. “Yes, Mr. Carlyle?”
“You said that you confirmed with her agent yesterday?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, I did. I’ve been trying his phone as well as her assistant’s phone over the last hour, but I’ve only gotten voicemail.”
“And did you leave a message?”
His voice was so condescending, that it took all of my effort not to say something smart. Instead, I took a deep breath while trying to ignore Josh’s eyes on me. Warren was trying to appear like he was in control, especially in front of his boss.