Eden gave her a rueful smile. “I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side. I’m honestly a lot more comfortable in a pair of worn jeans, a hoodie and a pair of flip-flops. But I won’t lie and say I don’t love my job. I do. I’m not one of these people who believe modeling objectifies or degrades women. Modeling is hard work. It’s not just about selling our looks. It’s complicated to explain. A director once told me that some women were just born for the camera and others weren’t, and the ones who weren’t destined for the camera weren’t any less beautiful than the women who did model. They just had the talent to transform in front of a lens. Almost like a chameleon. Become whatever the photographer wanted. But believe me when I say, it’s by far the most demanding job I’ve ever had. Not that I had many before I got into modeling, but I wasn’t ‘discovered’ until four years ago, and I worked through high school and was in the process of putting myself through school waiting tables. Working at the register at a grocery store. Mowing lawns. You name it, I’ve done it,” she added with a laugh.
“Wow,” Skylar said. “I’m impressed. You obviously had ambition from the start. That’s rare in someone so young.”
“Stick your head out the door and holler for Bertrice,” Eden asked Skylar. “She should be hovering close, waiting for me. She’ll have to do a rush on the makeup, and hope Lonnie had a good lunch break or isn’t PMSing. Again.”
Skylar cracked up but immediately opened the door and reappeared a moment later with Eden’s makeup artist.
“Swanny had the poor woman too afraid to knock to see if you were ready,” Skylar said dryly. “He’s standing outside your door like some avenging angel who will wreak havoc with the world if anyone crosses the threshold of your domain.”
Eden burst into laughter. “You have such a flair for dramatics. You’d be a terrific actress.”
Skylar looked befuddled and then she laughed, and laughed some more, holding her stomach in an effort to catch her breath.
“Oh God. Can you see me on a movie or television set? Unless it was something like Rambo. Now that would be killer. A woman version of Rambo. Me and P.J. could star. That would be a riot.”
Bertrice looked baffled but said nothing as she hurried through the motions of redoing Eden’s makeup. By Eden’s count they had about twelve more minutes before Lonnie would either send someone to summon her like a subject to the king or bellow for her himself and ask her if she intended to hold up the entire production while she sat on her lazy fat ass.
She prayed for the former, because if he got all rampagy today, Swanny would likely kill him over the lazy fat-ass part. It was certainly something she’d heard before from Lonnie, but she knew how to take him, and after that first crying jag years back, she quickly figured out the best way to blow his bluster to smithereens was to blithely ignore him and kill him with kindness.
There was nothing Lonnie wanted more than to pick a fight and cause an emotional uproar when he was in one of his moods. But he’d only gotten that once from Eden and never again. She hadn’t gained the reputation as being cool under fire for nothing!
“So who is P.J. exactly?” Eden asked, glancing at Skylar in the mirror. “I’ve heard her mentioned but was never sure exactly who she was or what connection she had to KGI.”
Skylar grinned. “You’d like her, though she’d argue she doesn’t want to be liked and doesn’t really care if people like her or not. She’s the original female member of KGI. I’m the second. I’m hearing down the grapevine that Sam has an eye on a female recruit for Rio’s team but no idea where in the process they are with that. Rio . . . Well, he and Steele both kind of answer to themselves, as do their teams. To them, I mean. Technically you could say they work for KGI, meaning the founders—Sam, Garrett and Donovan. But Rio is two men down. He lost one during a clusterfuck of a situation when Frank Kelly had a heart attack and Marlene, his wife, was kidnapped from the bathroom of the hospital, killing one of Rio’s men in the process. He lost the other when some bad shit went down on a mission Rio took a very personal interest in. Meaning, he had it bad for the woman he was protecting and one of his teammates risked her life for his own interests. He’s lucky to be alive. I was shocked when I learned that Rio had let him live.”
Eden’s mouth dropped open, eliciting an instant frown from Bertrice, who was just finishing her lips.
“I’ll be finis. Just few seconds more. Then I leave and you talk.”
Skylar grimaced and clamped a hand over her mouth with a groan, but she waited until Bertrice finished up Eden’s lip gloss and then stuffed her bag full of the stuff she’d taken out and left the room.
“Shit,” Skylar muttered. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Concern wrapped around Eden’s throat, squeezing her airway tight. “Skylar, what is it? Surely it can’t be so bad.”
“You shouldn’t know anything about all the crap I just told you. Classified. All of it. That wouldn’t earn me any brownie points for sure with the powers that be. But I swear, you’re so down-to-earth and easy to talk to that I find myself just spouting out the least little thing. Like we’re BFFs or something, for God’s sake.”
Eden smiled and then reached up to hug Skylar, squeezing her as lightly as possible so she didn’t muss her hair or makeup.
“One, I’d never tell a soul what you just told me. And two, I’d very much like to consider us friends. Despite my profession being dominated by so many women, I’m not actually friends with any of them. This is a competitive, cutthroat business, and if the opportunity presents itself, they’d step all over me to climb higher in the ranks. So I have no illusions of true friendship or loyalty. I’m well aware of what’s at stake in my career. If f**king me over will get them ahead of the game, they’d do it without a second thought.”