Chapter 76: Undefined Status

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Stacy

"Okay. Wrap the red cardigan tighter around you as if you feel cold."

Before the last thirty minutes of the shoot began, I was handed a red button-less cardigan whose hem reached my ankles. It added a more classy effect to my white silk, brown-belted dress.

"Now, sir, hug her waist from behind." How was Bryce able to keep a straight face while talking?

Oh, and by the way, Walter's on-screen model name was "Sir" like the English poet and explorer Sir Walter Raleigh. As if the former was an actual gentleman in his eighteen years of existence.

The whole time he and I had to pose closely to each other, he would sniff my hair and say a load of crap like "I missed you" or "We should catch up sometime."

I was irritated as hell, but I needed to stay professional despite this perverted asshole being my co-worker.

"Both of you smile like it's the morning of Christmas day."

I couldn't stop grimacing and fidgeting in Walter's arms.

"Goddess." Chris had his lean arms folded over his chest. "You look uneasy."

No shit, Sherlock.

My model agent took a step towards me and criticized the surroundings. "Is it the lighting?"

"It's not," I replied through gritted teeth. I could feel Walter's palms stroking my thighs.

"I think I see the problem," Bryce said as he looked away from his camera and straightened up.

Underneath the red cardigan, Walter's hands began to travel up my waist and up my bust when all of a sudden, Bryce walked towards us and reached for my arm, pulling me up from the beige settee and his hand encircled my wrist as he pulled me closer to stand behind him.

"This bastard's been groping her ever since they sat down." His jaw was clenched.

A malicious grin spread across Walter's sick, obnoxious face. "What's the big deal?"

I shot him an acidic scowl despite my trembling fingers and knees. "Cut it out, Walter."

"We used to do more when we were together. Remember, S?" He stood up and smirked.

Bryce spoke before I could. "Yeah, well. She's not in a relationship with you anymore."

The smirk slid off Walter's face and was slowly replaced by a sneer. "Are you her boyfriend?"

"What if I was?"

My heart skipped a beat.

"It doesn't matter who you are. Come here, S. I'll show you a good time. You know I can."

"Fuck off, Walter," I snarled over Bryce's shoulder.

"I love how you say my name, babe."

"Leave." Bryce's voice was low, sharp, and disdainful.

Walter arched a cocky eyebrow. "And who's going to be the male model?"

"Me." The word seemed to tumble out of Bryce's lips on its own accord.

"What?" I squawked before I could stop myself. Damn. I had to control my voice.

Bryce looked over his shoulder at Chris Bowen. "You just need a guy with brown hair, right?"

"Hmm." My 26-year old model agent assessed the handsome teenager's healthy physique.

"Well?" 

"I approve."

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