Who's Calling The Shots?. Jennifer Rae

place.’

      ‘You don’t want a man who’s attracted to you just for your looks!’ Brooke insisted.

      ‘No,’ said someone else. ‘But men are men, Brooke. They’re visual creatures. They have to like what they see.’

      ‘You’re missing the point.’ Brooke was feeling hot, and she knew she should probably stop but she couldn’t. She needed to say what she had to say. ‘Your perfect match will be attracted to you. To your face and your body and your eyes—and your bum. Not because it’s perfect, and not because it’s out on display. Think about it—when you’re attracted to someone you just are. You can’t help it. And it doesn’t matter if they have a crooked nose or thinning hair. When that chemical attraction takes hold all their imperfections are gorgeous. They make them who they are. You don’t see them as negatives—you see everything about them as gorgeous.’

      ‘That’s true, Brooke, and I’m not saying we’re all perfect. I’m saying that it doesn’t hurt to introduce the men to some of our...imperfections.’

      Alissa smiled, but Brooke didn’t. She turned back to smug Jack Douglas and realised her mistake immediately. He was rocking on his heels with his hands in his pockets. Satisfied. Triumphant.

      ‘And, cut!’

      Horrified, Brooke turned to face the camera now on her face. Jack sauntered towards her and came in closer than he ever had before, the heat of his skin making her cheeks burn.

      ‘Ratings gold.’

      That deep, calm voice didn’t calm her this time. But it did make her whole body break out in a rash.

      ‘Good Job, Ms Wright.’

      Then he moved back, smiled wide, turned and walked away—while eleven girls stood silently behind her and a lone camera beeped to indicate that it was back on and recording.