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I rest my hand under my chin, tilt my head slightly and look up the sky.
“Hmm.”
“Are you thinking about it, Kara?”
“Oh, I’m thinking about it.”
“And what are you thinking about it?”
“Hmm. I’m thinking...fuck no.”
Fred drops the light meter he’s holding like I just fucking electrified it with my answer.
“Okay, we’ve probably got enough. Good work today.” Fred’s trying to hide the sadness in his voice. He’s really into promotional materials, I suppose.
“You get any good shots, Fred?”
Even after the not-so-hard work of a Protein Plus photo shoot, Chase’s voice is like music to my ears.
“Yeah, we’ve got enough for today.” Fred still doesn’t sound convinced.
“You get to work in fucking Hawaii, Fred. On the beach. Give it a rest.”
Eric’s voice is also music to my ears—a different genre, but I still like how it sounds.
“Thanks. I keep forgetting.” Fred has all his shit packed up in no time flat, knowing it’s time to leave me alone on the beach with my men.
“New swimsuit?” Eric’s eyes are glued to my powder blue halter top bikini.
“One of many. This entire wardrobe is mine.” My eyes go wide, and I throw an evil laugh into the island air. “Mine!”
“I’m glad you’re getting some fringe benefits from this gig,” Chase states with a smirk, walking to me with a highball glass full of beautiful orange magic.
“Fuck yes!”
“Are you saying fuck yes to the fringe benefits?” Chase questions, his sexy smile growing wider.
“If you bringing me my new favorite cocktail is a fringe benefit, then, fuck yes.”
Chase smoothly slips the glass into my hands. “Sure, that can be one.”
I hold the glass tightly with both hands as I meet Chase’s lips in a post-photo shoot kiss in the ocean air.
I enjoy the first sip of my Mai Tai just before Eric reaches me for another dynamite fucking kiss against the backdrop of a motherfucking Hawaiian sunset.
And then, to ensure that yet another perfect moment lasts just a little bit longer, I wrap my lips around the cocktail straw and take in a nice, long draw of rum-based paradise.
“You’re really enjoying that fucking fringe benefit.” Eric’s got his own stunning, teasing smile on his face. “Now I know why you turned down all those top-paying commercial modeling gigs in New York and Hollywood—no Mai Tais included.”
“True, but I’m also not driving to fucking Hollywood. Have you seen the traffic on the 101? I’ll take a flight halfway across the ocean any goddamn day.”
“But Milan’s too far?” Chase joins in on the action.
“It’s too far, and it’s no Hawaii,” I answer, getting a bit more serious.
“For what that runway modeling contract offered, you could’ve retired afterwards and probably bought Oprah’s house in Maui.” Eric sidles next to me and slips his arm around my shoulders as he speaks.
On my other side, Chase nimbly drapes his arm around my back.
