Halfway Perfect Read Online Free Page A

smile. “Sorry. The light captured your profile so well. It’s a flattering image, really.”
    I have to give him credit because he snorts at my bullshit answer and tries to snatch my camera. I jerk it away from him, pressing it against my side. “All right, Fabio . So I caught you in a rare moment when you don’t look like a pompous asshole trying to feel up a fourteen-year-old girl. You can sue me if you want.”
    His face fills with anger, then changes as he absorbs all my words. “How did you know her age?” he whispers so softly I can barely hear him.
    Okay, apparently I’ve gues sed right.
    Before I get a chance to respond, his expression changes again as if realization is hitting hard and fast.
    Uh oh.
    â€œHoly hell…you’re…you’re—” he stammers. I hold my breath, knowing what’s coming. “That chick who bailed before that big Gucci campaign. You were with Wes Danes, right? I’ve been going crazy for the last hour trying to figure out how I knew you!”
    With Wes . Does he understand the double meaning in that?
    My heart is pounding. My eyes dart around the room, scanning for listening ears. My hand shakes, nearly spilling my camera onto the floor.
    â€œWhat?” I ask, trying to brush off the accusation in the off chance that Alex is a complete idiot and buys my denial.
    No such luck. In fact, he’s got out his phone and is typing faster than should be humanly possible. I close my eyes for a second, visualizing what words he typed into the search engine: model who quit Gucci. Or maybe, sixteen-year-old diva who’s decided she’s too good for Gucci or possibly, ways to ruin your modeli ng career.
    He looks up from his phone. “Eve Castle!” Triumph fills his voice, like it’s fucking Final Jeopardy and he’s correctly answered the million-dollar question: This female model mysteriously left the industry at the brink of sup erstardom.
    Ding, ding! Who is Eve Castle?
    I should have faked food poisoning the second I arrived at Seventeen ’s headquarters.
    â€œPlease keep your voice down,” I bark at Alex. I lift my camera in front of his face. “Eve Nowakowski. Photography student. Columbia University. Not a model.”
    He ignores my response. “What happened to you, anyway?” he asks. “Must have been something big for you to take off like that.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ve already got ideas, right?” I can’t hide my frustration. There were hundreds of stories claiming to know why I left, but none of them were true. “Which story did you read? Drug rehab? Teen pregnancy? Psychotic episode? It’s not like I’m going to be able to pitch a new version to you.”
    He shrugs and lowers my camera so it’s waist high. “Whatever. I never believe that tabloid shit anyway.”
    And just like that, he walks away, leaving me stunned. A few moments later a voice startles me by saying my name. I turn around to face Janessa. I can’t tell how long she’s been standing there, but if she heard my conversation with Alex, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
    She holds out her hand. “Let’s see if these photos of yours are worth the shit I’m getting from the producer.”
    My heart is still racing as I hand over the camera. I don’t even stop myself from biting my nails as she looks over my work.
    Her eyebrows lift. “I can see why Professor Larson likes you so much. You’ve actually given him something worth criticizing, unlike most of the students he’s forced to pretend are talented.”
    Did Janessa Fields just call me talente d ? And wait…my photos are worthy of criticism from my professor—and that is a good thing?
    â€œThanks,” I mumble, not sure how to handle this maybe compliment. “I’ll put my camera away now. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”
    â€œIf anyone