I chew on my bottom lip. "My schedule is kind of hectic right now," I admit.

Hiding his disappointment, he nods. "Bye, Golden Babe." He pecks me on the lips.

Before my face turns into a tomato, I say a quick goodbye and rush into the building. Last night was one of the best nights of my life, but I can't afford to get tied into a media frenzy with an NHLer. Especially not when I am at the peak of my career.

________________________

Cameras flashing. Girls changing. Hairspray fumes drifting through the air. Ahh, Saturday mornings. I walk into the dressing room and finger through the racks of garment bags for the one with my name on it. "Ollie!" I hear Anna call. I turn my head to the makeup station and see her wave me over.

"Olivia Monroe Windsor! Spill," she demands.

I grab the robe they had set aside for me and go behind the changing partition next to the vanities. "I don't kiss and tell," I tease.

She laughs humorlessly. "Oh, I know you did a lot more than just kiss."

When I don't respond she says, "At least tell me if he's good in bed!"

"Anna!" I scold her for saying that in front of the makeup artist. I tie the black, silk robe and step out from the divider. "If you must know, yes, he was good. Very good," I emphasize.

My friend sighs, "I am so jealous of you."

I sit in the chair beside her and another makeup artist comes over to begin the glam process. "What'd you and Hayden do after I left?" I look at her through the mirrors.

"Nothing much. Another hockey player came to our table, but I wasn't really feeling it."

"Still hung up on Jake?" I ask her. She gives me a sad nod.

Jake is a male model that Anna dated last year. Their relationship was casual but steady for six months. That is, until Anna caught him cheating with another model. She was devastated. One thing you should know about my best friend is that she wears her heart on her sleeve.

"At least one of us is getting some," Annalise jokes.

I roll my eyes. "Got some. Past tense."

Anna chuckles. "Whatever you say, Olivia."

________________________

"Java for lunch?" Annalise asks as we head out of the building.

"Yup, I am starving!" I reply. My stomach was growling the entire shoot.

The little restaurant is a few blocks from our current location, so we decide to walk. I have to admit, my body is a bit sore from last night, but the pain brings a smile onto my face because it reminds me of Parker kissing my—

"Did you hear the designer bashing Carly because the dress didn't fit properly?" Annalise interrupts my day dream.

"Poor girl," I shake my head. The irony of the situation is that Carly literally has no meat on her skin. It goes to show that the model is always to blame for a piece not fitting to the designer's liking.

"Miss Windsor, Miss Coleman!" A group of paparazzi block the entrance to Java. They shove their cameras into our faces and berate us with a million questions.

"Anna, are you still booking up with Jake?"

"How was your trip to Paris last month?"

"Can you tell us anything about Fashion Week?"

"Olivia, you were recently photographed with Lennon Nilsson. Are you guys dating?"

The last question makes my blood boil. Lennon is a friend of mine and a fellow model. We had a shoot for Gucci and were photographed together exiting the building. I swear, the media believes any two people standing next to each other are a couple.

"Please, excuse us," I say. I grab Anna's hand and weave my way through the crowd.

Once we're safely inside, I squeeze her hand. "You okay?"

She nods. "I don't why people are so fascinated with my sex life," we both chuckle.

The waitress leads us outside to a table with a cute umbrella over top.

Perusing the menu, my mouth waters when I see all of the delicious foods listed that I can't indulge in. Growing up my eating habits weren't terrible, but they definitely wouldn't pass model standards.

"What are you ladies having today?" The waitress gets her small note pad and pen out from her apron.

"I'll have the tossed salad. Could you replace the ranch dressing with balsamic vinaigrette?" I ask.

"Sure can. What about you, Miss?" She turns to Annalise.

"I'll have the same."

Once the waitress leaves, Anna's lips droop down. "I really wanted the chicken pesto panini," she says.

"Same," I reply glumly. As little as the matter seems, models sacrifice their pleasure for their job. Well, most times, I think of last night with Parker.

After lunch, Anna and I part ways. Harrison picks me up and drops me back off at my apartment. I am so relieved to finally take my heels off of my aching feet. When I remove my coat, a small piece of paper falls out of the pocket. My eyes widen with surprise when I unfold it.

Parker's phone number is scrawled across it, accompanied by a short note reading Till we meet again, Golden Babe. I can't help the giddiness that I feel. I adore his persistence and sweetness.

Even though I turned him down this morning, I can't stop thinking about him—his blue eyes, his dimples, his boyish smile. Maybe our paths will cross again.

 Maybe our paths will cross again

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