“Thanks,” I tell her with a genuine smile. I flip through the folder and look at each girl.

“I chose seventeen, do you want me to set them up for test shoots this week?”

I shuffle through the resumes. All these girls are beautiful and they are all experienced. “Yeah, we’ll probably keep at least twelve, just in case someone doesn’t work out. Nice to have back-ups. And make sure they understand the contract before the test shoot, OK? I don’t want any surprises. Find out if they have any… issues.” I try to be gentle, but she knows what I’m saying. If they’re on drugs, I’m not interested. “And make sure to tell them about the scale. Billy’s in charge of the closet and the girls for this shoot.”

“Got it,” she says, then dips down and pecks me on the cheek real fast and skips out of the room.

Watching her makes me happy these days. She is so pretty. Her blonde hair is long and lush, her eyes are blue and bright, her body is curvy instead of rail thin, and her skin is glowing. She’s not the girl I knew back in high school, not at all. She’s better. “Hey, Clare?” I call out before she gets too far away from the office door.

“Yeah?” she asks, turning around.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

She beams at me and lets out a long sigh. “Me, too.”

I kick my feet up on Antoine’s desk and think about Rook. I know she’s running with Ford—this is a habit I’ve come to accept, even if I don’t like it. She likes him, it’s clear. But how far that affection stretches, I’m not sure just yet. Her attitude towards me hasn’t wavered. She’s always interested, she’s always happy to see me, and her playfulness has only increased since the whole Jon thing before Sturgis.

But I’m desperate for more from her. I’m desperate for something more permanent. And I do understand that it’s totally selfish of me to expect her to give up her dream to make me happy, so that’s something I’d never ask her to do. But it eats away at me. Her lack of permanence. It’s like she’s fleeting, like she’s a moment. Something that comes and goes. I want marriage, I want kids, I want everything I never had as a child, and I want it desperately.

But I want her more.

I will wait, that was not a lie. I’ll wait forever if I have to.

“Elise is back!” Clare yells from the studio.

I jump up from the desk, rush out to the studio and wait in front of the elevator with Clare. It dings pathetically just before the doors open and Elise and Antoine appear.

“Well?” Clare exclaims.

“I told you, they won’t know for another month. This ultrasound was just to check on things.”

“Oh, please! I happen to know for a fact that they can tell at seventeen weeks. My roommate Jamie from rehab was pregnant, so I heard all the scary details of bun-baking while I was up there.”

Elise smiles coyly. “Well, the tech did give us a hint.”

“What is it?” Oh fuck, I’m so excited I can barely stand it.

Elise defers to Antoine who lets out the biggest fucking smile I’ve ever seen on that asshole’s face. “Boy,” he laughs. “It’s a boy!”

“Ahhh! That’s great!” We high-five and then clap each other on the back, then look down at Elise, who is frowning. “A girl would be good too! But it’s a boy, so hey, what can you do?”

“I’m just happy it’s OK. I’m so stressed out. I’m tired, my feet hurt, my back aches, and I’m not even five months yet. I don’t think I’m a very good mother.”

I look up at Antoine to see what this is about but he’s got a strange look on his face. “Oh, come on, Elise. It’s normal to be all those things when you’re pregnant, right, Clare?”

Clare’s about to shrug it off, but she catches my look. “Oh, yeah, Ellie, mothering is natural, right? You’ll be a natural.”

But I can see Elise’s mind whirling as these words sink in. Our mom was not a natural. She was pretty terrible at it, actually. And she picked a bad dude to have babies with, hence the whole beaten to death and prison sentence outcome. I take Elise’s hand and tug her towards the stairs. “Come on, I’ll watch girly TV with you if you want.” She smiles at me and lets me lead her away. I steal a look back at Antoine as we walk up the stairs and he mouths ‘thank you’ at me.

“Let’s watch at my place, sis. I have a better TV and besides, you never visit me at home anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Ronin, I’m a bad sister too.”

“Please. This is definitely hormones talking.” I punch in my code and unlock the door, then wave her into the living room but she heads straight to the bathroom. I plop on the couch and kick my feet up on the table, then flip through the DVR and find some Ellie shows. She likes all the typical shit that I’d normally never be caught dead watching, but this is how I spent my childhood. Sticking to Elise’s side like glue as we navigated our way through a very fucked-up home life. She had a little TV in her room and six nights out of seven I was in there sleeping with her instead of my own bed. We’d watch Jenny McCarthy and Jackass, then the Top Model show later, after Antoine took us in. It was kind of a joke, right? Since we lived with Antoine and half the time I had famous models taking me on tours around foreign cities and Elise was in a position to make and break careers with a whisper in Antoine’s ear.

She had wanted to be a model, even though she’s so small. She knew the high fashion stuff was a no-go, but the erotic stuff didn’t have those kind of requirements. And that’s how she ended up here. Well, Antoine had a much smaller studio over in North Denver, so that’s where Elise dragged me that afternoon, about six months after our family disintegrated. She was so nervous and I was only ten years old, too young to understand what she was about to do for money. So I was just scared. And when Antoine came to get her from the front room Elise started to tremble and I just flipped out and refused to let her go with him. I tried to fight him, in fact.

I can laugh now, but I was so fucking afraid for her. I thought for sure this guy was gonna do something horrible, why else would she be so scared? And then I’d be alone, totally alone.

But Antoine let me come back into the studio and he took so many pictures of her that day—fully clothed—that I fell asleep on the floor. The next thing I knew, I was being homeschooled in India while he photographed important people and used Elise as his make-up artist.

It was surreal how Antoine changed our lives.

When we came back from India he bought this building. We lived in a high-rise apartment during the renovations and I had private tutors because every few months we’d pack up and go somewhere else. I’ve been to more countries than I can count. And we always did fun tourist stuff when we were there, even though I could tell Antoine hated all that shit. He took us anyway.

I tell myself he’s not like a father to me, or a brother. And that’s true. Because there isn’t a word to describe how much Antoine means to me. Father just doesn’t cut it because my father was such a bastard, I’d never saddle that moniker on the guy who literally saved me and my sister. Antoine is like… like a best friend more than anything else.

When the building renovations were finally over three years later, Elise and I grew accustomed to this life and forgot all about the violence and fear we left behind. That’s when Antoine enrolled me in Saint Margaret’s for the end of eighth grade and I met Spencer. Ford was already in high school, so I didn’t meet him until the next year when Spence and I started ninth grade. Antoine, Ellie, and I still traveled, but not as much. Things settled down little by little, and pretty soon Antoine was just… sorta famous. I’m not even sure how it happened. He was well-known in certain circles before this transition, but at some point he became someone you had to book a year in advance to get your fucking picture taken. That’s when all this contract shit started. And that’s when I started modeling seriously myself.