Billionaire Flawed 1(11)

On top of that, I missed Amelia. It was strange to admit it, especially after the way I had behaved that night, but I did. I missed talking and working with her; I even missed her shameless flirting. In the few weeks we had interacted, she had brought light and color to my existence, and now that I was back to my usual gray life, I felt cold and empty. However, she and her child deserved better than a damaged man who was unable to love.

Desperate to escape my thoughts, I opened the door and stepped out my car.

Crisp fall air filled my lungs as I walked toward the studio where our newest model was having her first photo shoot. It had been too long since I had visited a shoot, and though it wasn’t my favorite part of the job, at the moment it was a welcome distraction.

As soon as I stepped into the studio, my lips curled up in my usual smile. For the next few minutes, I walked around the chaotic set, greeting the models and the production staff. As per usual, they didn’t seem to mind that I had no idea what their names were. They just smiled back at me and kissed my ass in the same tiresome way most people did.

After a while of talking nonsense with people I didn’t care about, I set out to look for the photographer, who was a good friend of mine. That was when a familiar face at the dressing area caught my eye.

My heart raced as I took Amelia in. She looked serious and exhausted as she browsed through racks of clothes. Her figure hadn’t changed much, but I could make out the slight curve of her baby bump peeking through her thick jacket. Out of their own accord, my lips curled up into a smile at the sight, but it quickly vanished as a thin, middle-aged woman approached her.

I watched in silence as the woman pursed her lips and looked over the outfits Amelia had selected with disdain in her eyes. My own mouth tightened when I saw her shake her head and pick up a pair of denim pants.

“This is all wrong,” the harpy barked. “What were you thinking? This is a high fashion shoot.”

The woman’s voice echoed through the studio as she continued to belittle Amelia. I was proud of her for keeping a level head and not using her father as a way to shut the woman up. It showed a level of maturity and professionalism I couldn’t find in myself at that moment.

“Excuse me,” I called as I made my way toward them. “Is there an issue here?”

With my peripheral vision, I could see Amelia’s shock as she looked at me, but my focus was on the rude woman beside her.

The harpy pursed her wrinkly lips and crossed her arms. “This girl here knows nothing of style,” she said with a thick Southern drawl. “She’s opting denim for this shoot. It’s all wrong.”

Slowly, I looked from the older woman to Amelia, who looked thoroughly embarrassed to be found in such situation by me. I gave her a reassuring smile before turning my gaze to the garments she had selected. I studied the pieces for a moment before looking back at Amelia.

“What are you pairing the denim with?” I asked her in a business tone.

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before replying. “I was thinking about pairing it with those thigh-high glitter boots, that distressed leather jacket, and a lace bralette.”

A smirk threatened to form on my lips, but I kept my face straight as I nodded and turned back to the other woman. “Her choices seem pretty fashion forward and coherent with the shoot’s theme to me.”

The woman opened her mouth to say something else, but I wouldn’t have it. I might not have been on board with her pregnancy, but Amelia was still the mother of my child, and no one would treat her like crap.

I raised a hand to stop her from speaking and added, “I can assure you that Amelia knows what she’s doing. Her father is my business partner, and she was raised in this industry. Fashion and style come as second nature to her, and, in my not so humble opinion, her youth provides an edginess that your vision so desperately needs.”

The stylist blinked a few times as her eyes shifted from me to Amelia. The smirk I’d been holding finally peeked through as she smiled and nodded in agreement. I could see the storm raging in her eyes, but she clearly knew better than to get into an argument with me or continue to mistreat Alex’s daughter. People like us could make or break careers in this business, and apparently she wasn’t willing to risk hers.

She smiled at Amelia and excused herself to go talk to the set director. Once she was gone, I turned my focus to Amelia. From up close, she looked even more tired and sickly than she had before. “How are you?” I asked, concern lacing in my words.

“How I am is none of your business, Kellan,” Amelia responded in a blunt tone.

I knew I deserved to be talked to that way, but it didn’t mean I liked it. I ran a hand through my hair as Amelia turned to select some jewelry. She picked up a pair of hideous earrings, and I noticed that her hands were shaking.