His Nasty Little Pussy

TESS

I stood in the back corner of the mansion, unmoving. I was a rock lodged in one place, the bustle of the room, a rapid river flowing around me,

passing over me without a second glance.

The final model to audition stepped up in front of the camera, her legs so thin it looked like her knees might snap in half if she made one wrong move. The rest of the models watched on with envious eyes.

I still couldn’t understand why they’d created a set with a beige cloth serving as the backdrop. Even the ugliest corner of the house looked more appealing than that.

“Quiet on set!” Quincy shouted, even though no one in the room was speaking. Hell, people were barely even breathing. I recognized his name as having an affiliation with a variety of famous singers, but I’d never put a face to him before.

I’d always thought I would cower with shock if given the opportunity to share the same space as a celebrity, but to my surprise, Quincy gave me the opposite vibe. Nothing about him seemed appealing. His voice was incredibly loud for his short stature, and he barked orders like everyone in the room was a dog bred to listen to him. He wore an elaborate multicolored headband over his dreads, and his red velvet coat made him stand out. Everything about him screamed, “look at me.”

Quincy’s staff took their places rolling cameras, holding boom microphones above the model’s face, just out of the line of the camera.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Brady hovered beside the set, his arms crossed.

Quincy plopped in his director’s chair and pointed at the model. “And… action.”

The model squeezed a dollop of my cream in the center of her palm and rubbed it across her high cheekbones in a small circular motion. Her eyelids fluttered as she made eye contact with the camera. “Perkins Formula… Invigorate the soul.”

The room held its collective breath, and everyone twisted around to stare at Quincy, studying his reaction.

Quincy pressed his forehead against his hand, his fingertips massaging his temples as he released a giant sigh.

“Invigorate the Soul. The?” He kept his voice dangerously low, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the model. “Are you deaf, or are you just stupid?”

She blinked, her bottom lip wavering. “E-excuse me?”

“Twenty models have gone before you,” Quincy snapped. “They said one line. And somehow, you managed to fuck it up. ‘Invigorate your soul.'” “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Just get out of my sight,” Quincy snapped.

The model stumbled backward like she’d been smacked, and, for a second, I was certain she would trip, and her skinny knees would crack. Tears pooled in her eyes as she shuffled away from the camera, covering her face with her hands, her choked sobs audible as she skittered for the front door.

The room receded into stillness.

My next words spilled out of me.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled.

Everyone in the room suddenly turned to look at me. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized that I’d just spoken my thoughts out loud.

In hindsight, I think a tension had been gradually building up within me.

I had been hesitant about even taking Brady up on this offer to come here after the way he had acted at his parent’s anniversary party…but at this point, I didn’t have any other offers for Perkins Formula, and my student loan and business debt was mounting.

Still, I’d been here for three hours, a fly on the wall, observing people discussing how to market my product. I didn’t mind staying silent- creating products was my niche, not marketing them.

But I just couldn’t take Quincy’s voice one more second.

Not because I needed to have a say, but because no one was saying anything to a man just because he carried a name people recognized.

Because they assumed he carried power.

The repercussions of my words suddenly slammed into me.

Quincy’s staff widened their eyes, their jaws dropping. The man holding the boom mic nearly dropped it. The models crossed their arms as if I’d just offended the God they believed in. Brady’s sister, Brooke, pressed her thumb against her lip, stifling an amused smile. Brady locked eyes with me, his expression unreadable.

Quincy slowly twisted around in his chair, his eyes landing on mine.

“Excuse me?”

My eyes darted from side to side as I instinctively looked for a way out. Why that fuck had I just said that? Conflict had never been my modus of Operandi.

“I-I’m…” I stuttered.

Quincy threw up his hands. “You’re what?” he snapped, his voice echoing through the living room.

I blinked. “Leaving.”

A ball of anxiety rippled through me as I made a beeline for the front door. I shoved the front door open and stumbled into the heat, a salty breeze rushing over me. Sunlight blinded me as I stumbled down the steps.

“Tess!” Brady called out.

I reached into my purse, fumbling for my car keys. The mansion’s circular driveway was completely packed when I’d arrived, and I’d had to park nearly a block away.

Brady caught up to me. “Hey, can you hold on a second?”

The balloon of anxiety inside my chest burst. “Why? Not this again,

Brady?”

Brady opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

As he struggled to find words, laughter erupted from me. “Like, what was the purpose of this shit?”

His eyes narrowed. “To show you the marketing plan for Perkins Formula. Listen, I know Quincy isn’t perfect, but once we get this commercial filmed, we’re going to broadcast this on every streaming channel possible.”

“Once you film a woman saying a single line?” I asked, not trying to hide my sarcasm.

“I’m confused,” he said. “Is that it? Was it the line that you didn’t like?”

I shrugged, exasperated. “Among other things. Listen, Brady, I came here today because I can tell you believe in what I created, and I think that’s awesome, but this wasn’t what I imagined when you said partnership.”

He took a step back, and I expected him to become defensive, to justify his actions. Instead, his gaze intensified. “I have to be honest with you about something.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

His eyes became distant, and he resembled a lost child. “I’ve never had a business partner before.”

I scratched my eyebrow. “What the fuck!” I shouted. “What do you mean?”

“I…I take on clients who trust my work and pay me an absurd amount of money to market their products, and then I take a cut. I’ve never worked with someone like…this before. Where things are fifty-fifty.” “Wait…so are you regretting it?” I crossed my arms.

“No,” he said quickly. “The opposite. I want that. This.” He exhaled a deep breath and put a hand on his hip. “Sorry, I’m just not good at this.” “At talking?” I snorted.

He lifted his hands into the air. “I’ve always kept my business and personal life separate, and this is new territory for me…but I believe in your product.” He paused.

Sweat licked at his temples, and I realized the sincerity in his words. “I’m listening.”

“I was wrong to bring you to my parents’ anniversary party. I wanted to show you off as my business partner. And you’re right. I was doing it to piss my parents off. But that was wrong. I never would have done that with one of my clients.”

“You mean someone you didn’t fuck?”

He pressed his lips together. “Yes.”

“Then why did you offer me a partnership? I mean, look around, Brady. I don’t belong here. I’m not a model or a filmmaker. This isn’t my world. I don’t know how to market things. ”

“But you know how to create them,” I said. “I would be lying if I said I’ve seen a better product than yours. I haven’t. And it’s only a matter of time before someone else comes along and discovers what you’ve created.

Or you invent another even better product, and they find that. I think we can do great things together.”

I sighed, my anger dissolving. I’d never heard him be so honest, and I suddenly felt capable of doing the same. “Then, if you want a partnership, you have to treat me like one.”

He hesitated. “How?”

“I trust your ability to market things, and I’d leave it all in your hands if I hired you. But I didn’t. You asked for a partnership, so a partnership means asking my opinion first. On both the little things and the big things.”

He nodded. “So, what did you think?”

I laughed. “I think Quincy is rude, and no model will be able to deliver a line with someone who’s making them feel like dog shit. Also, ‘Invigorate your soul?'”

His smile widened. “See, I knew I made a good decision. I do trust your perspective, Tess. And as my partner…let’s do this.”

“Do what?”

He leaned forward, and the waft of his aftershave tinged the air between us. “Let’s plan the shoot together. Fuck Quincy.” “Seriously?” I asked.

“Give me five seconds to show you just how serious I am.”

I chewed my lip. “Okay.”