Liam turned his head and examined her chest in what he hoped was a casual way. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” She looked up at him and giggled. “I can still see a faint outline of a target.”

Liam crossed his hands over his underdeveloped pecs. There were weird white bumps on his upper arms that he’d been meaning to ask his mom about. Hopefully Shy wouldn’t notice.

“That whole thing was such a waste. I wonder what happened when the real models showed up.”

Shy stared at his mole-speckled neck and dug her toes into the comforter. “I still feel a bit strange.”

Liam shivered. He was cold now but still sweaty. “Um, I have supplies in my backpack.”

“What do you mean, supplies?” He must know she wasn’t serious about having sex. She pulled the comforter up to her chin. She was freezing and starving. She needed her dad to make her a cheese toastie.

“The day I turned sixteen my mom went to Costco and bought a huge box of condoms. I put some in my backpack, just in case.”

Liam looked askance at her bedroom floor and then at the door.

“Shit. Where is my backpack?”

Chapter 20

“Look away. And now back at me. Good. Look away again and now back. Left foot forward a bit. Cock your left hip. Not too much, just a hair. Good. Now look straight at me and pout your lips. Uh-oh. Wow. Okay, now smile like you just won a million-dollar contract with L’Oréal. Because you’re worth it, baby.”

Mandy had expected Kramer Lamb to be slick and fashiony and intimidating, dressed head to toe in black couture. Instead, he was a super-friendly dork wearing a turquoise mohair bow tie, pleated khaki pants, and pink Adidas pool slides with gray rag wool socks. And he obviously loved his job. She would have to send Wendy Clarke flowers or steal her a pie for recommending him.

Mandy straddled a kitchen chair the wrong way around and leaned her chin on the back of the chair. She pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout. Poses seemed to come naturally to her, and she didn’t feel self-conscious at all in her own home.

“Stop it!” Kramer Lamb yelled, snapping pictures. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

Mandy giggled. “You know, I don’t even like clothes very much. I just wear my husband’s old T-shirts.” She was wearing one right now, the plain black V-neck one that Stu always said looked sexy on her.

“Modeling isn’t about clothes. Or makeup. Or hair. It’s about the je ne sais quoi, and you have it.” Kramer Lamb pulled the camera away from his face and squinted at it. “You’re a goddess with a heart-shaped mouth and a heart-shaped face. Even your nose is sort of heart-shaped. So is your butt. And your cleavage. You’re insane!”