The Scientist and the Supermodel Read Online Free PDF Page A

the far end of the pool deck that looked down on city traffic below. Curious, he wandered over toward the group.
    As he got closer, he noticed large light poles, wires running across the concrete and grass, and a lot of sloppy but official-looking people walking around with clipboards and iPhones. Fun. Maybe a movie was shooting? He insinuated himself through the onlookers until he could catch a glimpse of the action on a patch of grass under a bunch of palm trees at the end of the pool. A couple of women, very tall and very thin, were being made up by much shorter, fatter people. The women—models? actresses?—were wearing what looked like pretty skimpy bathing suits but at the moment were clutching towels around their shoulders against the chill. Beside them, a group of people huddled in a circle. They seemed in intense conference about something, and Jake wondered what the excitement was about.
    After a couple minutes, when it seemed nothing was really going to happen, Jake started to leave, but as if on cue, the cluster of people in the center parted like the Red Sea, and Jake’s heart tripped. Walking out of the group and heading for the diving board, dressed only in a pair of slim board shorts, was Roan.
    OMG.
    Roan walked out to the end of the board looking very self-contained and unaware of the gawkers standing around. Jake realized gawkers must be the definition of Roan’s life. The makeup people had made little attempt to tan him, even though it was obviously a summer swimwear photograph. That alabaster skin gleamed in the sunlight in almost shocking contrast against the thick black hair that blew around his face in the LA breeze. The sun brought out the red highlights like fire in a midnight sky.
    Jake slipped behind another spectator so the model wouldn’t see him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This was bad for him, like an alcoholic saying he’d only take one more drink, but looking away from Roan was just beyond human strength. Jake noticed that the crowd had become very hushed, as if watching something profound and sacred, and maybe that kind of beauty was just that special.
    The model stood shading his eyes while the two thin women took positions on the pool deck. Though they both still clutched towels, trying to keep warm, Roan looked as though the cool wind couldn’t touch him. Maybe it wouldn’t dare.
    A girl behind him whispered to a friend, “Isn’t he amazing? I can’t believe I’m actually seeing him in real life.”
    “Yeah,” replied a Valley-girlish voice. “He’s the screensaver on my laptop. I just stare and stare. They say he’s gay, but I could care less.”
    “I’ve heard that too, but I know he was dating that actress. Y’ know, Alexandra something, the one that won the Golden Globe for that great indie film. They were real serious, I think.”
    “But who cares, y’know? He’s the most beautiful man on earth.”
    Jake’s ears had been pricking. Actress? Screensaver? The guy was obviously not some wannabe. Jake thought he’d look him up on Wikipedia when he got back to the room. Most beautiful man in the world? He could get behind that, no questions asked.
    At that moment, the photographer must have given some signal, because the two female models finally relinquished their towels and arched their long skinny bodies into awkwardly beautiful poses. But was anyone looking at them except the camera? The young god on the diving board began to move, and Jake thought again of a wildcat in the sunlight. He stretched and turned, proving that, despite appearances, the chiseled body was not actually made of marble. With one turn, Jake noticed a tattoo on his shoulder. It was words of some kind, but Jake couldn’t make them out at this distance. The model’s face pouted and glared and flirted, giving the photographer a thousand different attitudes to choose from.
    Suddenly Roan did a half turn and arched his back into an impossible C shape, and just as Jake gasped, he