Lonzo: Book 1 (Tycoon Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

times by very rich men whom she had just met—one of them was a king of a minor emirate kingdom; the other was a short, balding Russian oligarch, who offered ten million euros just to sleep with her.
    Even Francesca grew incensed at several persistent ones who tried their best to trick her booker to give out her private number. Even the male models she knew of had changed. A lot of them were now trying to score a date with her, when a few months back, they had kept their distance.
    Being a virgin was like waving a red rag to a herd of bulls. It was really silly!
    She even heard one of them say that hooking up with her can do wonders for him in terms of bragging rights. She was appalled.
    Men were really a bunch of overgrown kids, she deduced.
    She really needed a break.
    She told Francesca this when she dropped by at the agency yesterday . She frowned at her. The mere mention of the word “vacation” was enough to make her booker’s face switch from cheery to businesslike.
    “Sweetheart, I just finished booking you with H&M and Saks. The phone hardly stopped ringing,” Francesca pointed out, her own way of saying that Jordana ought to be thankful she was constantly working and didn’t need to compete for go-sees with other models since clients specifically asked for her. Her modeling book containing her pictures was practically overflowing.
    As if to prove a point, the phone started ringing and when Francesca picked it up, Anna Wintour of US Vogue, through her protégé and head fashion editor, Georgia Stevenson, was asking her availability for their next cover.
    Francesca would never side with her. Since this circus started, the number of bookings doubled. That equated to a lot of dollar signs. The agency got twenty percent for each job booking—which can range from thirty-five thousand dollars for a photo ad, to multi-million dollar modeling, perfume and cosmetic contracts for the likes of Lancôme, Estee Lauder or VS.
    Maybe if she asked Leandro to talk to her booking agent, she’d change her mind. Francesca always had a soft spot for her bestfriend. He can charm the fifty-year old woman like no model can.
    She was about to call Leandro when her phone rang.
    It was an international number that originated from Italy. It didn’t register in her contact list. Thinking it was IMG’s affiliate agency in Italy, she decided to take the call.
    “Hello?”
    “Dana?! Is that you?” a woman with a British accent asked.
    She frowned, trying to put a face to the voice. “Yes. Who’s calling please?”
    The voice sounded familiar…
    “Dana! It’s Mel.”
    “Mel! This is a surprise! How are you?” she shrieked in delight.
    Melissa Fulton or Mel, was the daughter of the late Spike Fulton, the photographer who discovered her in Brazil.
    Mel’s late dad was an influential fashion photographer who was also her mentor. He was instrumental in opening doors for her when she was just starting out as a model. But more than that, he was a father figure not only to her, but also to Leandro, whom he also took in as his ward. He referred Leandro to his contacts so that her friend can earn a living and send himself to school.
    At that time of Jordana’s arrival, Mel was attending NYU. When Spike introduced her to his only child, they had an immediate connection. Soon enough, they became best of friends.
    Jordana and Mel shared Spike’s New York apartment until Spike’s untimely death in a boating accident in the French Riviera.
    The last time she saw her friend was during Spike’s funeral. Mel didn’t finish her program at NYU and went back to England to reconcile with her estranged mother. They kept in touch through emails over the years, but it trickled down to an occasional one because of their busy lives—hers because of her fashion commitments, while Mel with her post-graduate course at Exeter University.
    They had planned on meeting in London numerous times but were unable to because their schedules wouldn’t allow