Page 31 of Luna Trials
“I feel really pretty.” I couldn’t help but smile as I gave my locks a little shake.
“You need to make my eyes darker.” Stef was snapping at the stylist next to me. I’d completely tuned her and the rest of the room out while Jesse was working his magic hands.
He tickled the tip of my nose with a soft brush, drawing my attention back to him as he rolled his eyes at Stef. “It’s easy to work with a model who is naturally pretty and isn’t a prima donna.”
I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Thank you for doing this.”
“Of course, sweetie. It’s my job.” He started packing his supplies back into his toolbelt. “Do you know what you’re going to wear for the interview?”
“I was thinking pants and a nice shirt.” I glanced up at him, testing his reaction. Somehow in the last hour he’d become my fashion guru.
Jesse gripped the hairspray tightly in his hand. “A nice shirt?”
“I brought my nicest flannel button down.” Saying that out loud sounded worse than it did in my head.
He slid the hairspray into his toolbelt with a frustrated hiss. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I cried out as he yanked on my arm. A few of the stylists jumped at my outburst.
Jesse paid them no attention as he started clapping, going full drill sergeant on my ass. “Hurry up. We have two hours before the interviews start and I need to see what we’re working with.”
*
“Honey. No.” Jesse looked ready to cry.
I was close to tears too as I stared at the outfits laid out on my hotel room bed. “Seriously. What is wrong with my clothes?”
“They’re not bad.” He was a terrible liar. “But if you want to make a good impression, these are not it.”
“What if I don’t care about making an impression?” I was still reeling from the earlier shock of seeing my name so high in the polls.
“Too late for that.” Jesse pulled out his phone and started swiping. “You’re building a fan base. We have to give the people what they want.”
“Do we really have to do that?” I cringed away from the predatory look in his yellow-green eyes.
“You want sponsors, right?”
Huh?Both my wolf and I cocked our heads to the side. “Sponsors?”
“No.” Jesse froze as his gaze darted around the room. A struggle played across his face and he seemed to come to some sort of resolution as he turned his sad smile back to me. “You poor little pup. They were going to feed you to the wolves.”
“I’m not little.” I straightened my shoulders, hating the pity in his voice. He wasn’t that much bigger. I could probably take him if I had to though I’d never fought a cat before.
Jesse laughed and petted the top of my head. He was only a few inches taller than me. “You’re cute. Come on. We’re running out of time.”
*
“What is this place?”
Jesse flicked on the fluorescent lights that lined the basement level storage room. Rows ofplastic bags hung on metal racks stretching from wall to wall.
“Top secret show inventory,” he said in a mysterious tone.
“Seriously?”
“No.” He laughed. “It’s mostly donations and some last season cast-offs from sponsors. But we can find you something that will work. What size are you?”
“Six to eight on the bottom depending on pants and a medium up top.” My wolf stirred in my mind, sniffing around a bit. I wasn’t too prideful to accept the help though. Especially not if it got people to stop complaining about my clothes.