45 seconds after Carlos uploaded the pictures of Becky to an email to his publicist, his phone started blowing up. He knew this would happen and he answers the phone as if he didn't. "Oh hey Paul. How can I help you?"
"Those pictures you sent me. Holy shit! Who is that girl?"
"Girl? Oh you mean my new nuse? She's quite the stunner isn't she?"
"Damn straight! What's her name? Her face isn't in any of the photos."
"Can't tell you that, Paulie. It's a mystery act. The face would take away from the message behind the art."
"What, is she a butter face or something? Come on Carlos, show me."
"No can do. The model wants to remain anonymous. And she gets 42.5% of every deal we cut with her. She's exclusive to me."
"She'll get quite the payout. Should I draw up a contract and get a lawyer?"
"No. She'll take and like that deal. And besides, you still get your 15 percent. No harm, I just splitting my cut down the middle."
"...and 15% of a killing is still a killing. Where did you even find this girl?"
"Look, when a door opens, you just gotta take a chance and walk through. I'll talk to you later, Paul." Carlos hangs up on his boss and heads to bed, eager for the news of his prize model's success.
Becky wakes up the next morning feeling great. It felt good to stretch her own legs last night and it was a rush talking to Scott on the phone. She floats through her morning routine, breakfast, and morning commute thinking about her new boyfriend. When she gets to the office, she dreamily drifts over to her desk when one of the secretaries sees her and pulls her over to the water cooler with other women of the office. "Hey Rebecca. Everything good with you?"
She nods and a wide smile spreads across her face. Some of the ladies giggle. "Would that have anything to do with your elevator ride with one Mr. Scott O'Brien, would it?"
Becky strightens her shirt and clears her throat, trying to hide how smitten she is. "None of your business, ladies."
"Aw come now, Rebecca. We just wanna know how it was? He brushed so many of us off we thought Mr. Perfect was gay. Think off it as a performance review." The ladies laugh until Scott walks out of the elevator and spots Becky being grilled by the gossips. "Morning ladies. Hi Becky.
"Good morning Scott."
"Can I walk you to your desk, Becky?" Scott holds out his arm, a life preserver from the hen huddle. "Of course." Becky takes it and he walks her out of there, leaving the water cooler ladies with their mouths dropped open.
"Thanks for that, Scotty."
"Least I could do after, well, you remember."
"How could I forget?" Becky takes a seat and starts setting up her desk for the day. "You were great."
"Thanks but so were you. I wasn't expecting any of that: I didn't think we would move that fast after the first date."
"I normally don't but I really like you. I hope this makes us a regular thing."
"Great, great. Look, I should probably get to my desk before the bossman comes around so I'll see you later for lunch?"
"Sure. See you then." Scott smiles and backs away, almost bumping into a page. Becky turns back to her desk to get working when she gets a text. It's from Carlos:
~ Your pictures are selling out! One will be on the cover of Stylin Weekly tomorrow. Celebrate with that boyfriend of yours.