When Day Breaks(60)
That he was the recipient of those sexy, seductive looks, and the director was eating them up with a spoon.
“Loving it, Eden!” the director called. “And Aria is going to love it too. You’re the perfect face for their new product. They’re going to make millions.”
“She’ll make millions as well,” her agent muttered. “A model at Eden’s level can afford to pick and choose her assignments. She’s in such demand that her schedule is insane. I keep telling her she needs to slow down, but she’s determined to work as long as her stock is on the rise and in a way she’s right. Strike while the iron is hot. There’s always new competition coming up the ranks, so it’s smart of her to bank what she’s making now so when she does retire she won’t have to worry about money the rest of her life.”
“You think she’s too old to be modeling?” Swanny asked in bewilderment. In his opinion she was the most fucking beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and she didn’t look a day older than a woman in her younger twenties. And that was considered old?
Her agent shrugged. “Models have short career spans. Not all, but most do. Some of the more popular supermodels continue to be famous and in demand well into their late twenties and even early thirties, but for the most part it’s a younger woman’s field, and Eden’s breasts are larger than most, which is a strike against her. They like tall and lean. And, well, a year ago she gained a few pounds, so it became necessary for her to hire personal trainers to keep her fit. In her career, even one pound can make the difference in landing a contract or not.”
Swanny growled low in his throat and her agent took a hasty step backward.
“There is not a fucking thing wrong with any part of her,” he snapped. “She was forced to hire personal trainers because God forbid she gained a few pounds? And her breasts are definitely not too big, and I can’t believe some jerk once told her she should consider a reduction. If I’d been there I’d have ripped his goddamn nuts off and shoved them down his throat.”
“She told you about that?” her agent asked in surprise.
It didn’t take much perception on Swanny’s part to realize that Eden was apparently a very private person, especially given the fact that she was rarely in the news, so he’d likely just given away his relationship with Eden.
“Yeah, she did. I haven’t gotten over that one yet, and then you hit me with forcing her into an exhausting workout regimen on top of an already grueling modeling schedule. Are you people even human? Because you sure as hell don’t treat her like a human. More like some trained animal forced to obey your every whim. I’ve sure as hell been around her enough to know she’s not some spoiled diva and doesn’t expect everyone to obey her every desire. What gives you the right to do that to her? Do you forget that she’s the boss and you work for her? That she signs your paycheck?”
Skylar, who’d walked to Swanny’s side the moment it became obvious heated words were being exchanged, frowned, her lips tightening as her eyes narrowed. Then she scowled openly at Nigel.
“Seems to me that Eden does a hell of a lot of the work without reaping many of the benefits. She’s directly and indirectly the source of income for a hell of a lot of people. You said yourself that she’s your most important client. And if this Aria deal is so fucking important and they want Eden, then one would think they would have their noses up her ass on a regular basis. Not allow her to be treated like some fucking lapdog to be patted on the head, say ‘good girl’ and then toss a treat her way.”
“I hardly think millions of dollars would be considered a mere dog treat,” Nigel snapped.
“You’re her agent,” Swanny said in a pissed-off tone. “Isn’t it your goddamn job to protect her from the kind of shit that went down yesterday?”
“I protect her best interests,” Nigel said icily. “And this shoot definitely qualifies as being in her best interests even if it means dealing with a moody, temperamental director, who if you notice is a completely different person today.”
“And they accuse women of having PMS. Let me tell you what PMS really stands for,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “Putting up with Men’s Shit. That’s what PMS means. And while we women are afflicted once a month, guys have their own brand of PMS every fucking day. They’re moody and difficult and act as though they’re bipolar. One minute they’re all smiles and the world is good. The next moment? They’re pissed at the world and start snapping at everyone around them.”