Page 3 of Baller's Surprise Baby

“So, she just got employed? For the documentary?”

Jack nods his head, and again, I take a moment to let this information sink in. Okay, so…she didn’t come here to see me. I can’t tell if I’m relieved or upset.

Again, she pulls my gaze like a magnet. They’re just standing there, Everly and the video dude…like he’s the most interesting man in the world, like she didn’t just rock my world, like it doesn’t matter that for the first time in our lives she crossed an invisible line and put her hands on my naked skin, like what just happened was nothing!

I feel the heat ramping up again just watching her carry on, but then I catch the subtle tremble in her hand as she tightens and pivots the angles of her camera stand.

And that’s when I know. She’s pretending. She’s only acting like it doesn’t matter, and my God I hate that even more.

I’ve known Everly since we were kids and thought nothing of it. But today this woman walked into my dressing room while I was engaging in sexual acts with another person, and suddenly Everly’s the only one I want. How did she do that? How can she act normal when I can never look at her the same way again?

She wants to pretend nothing happened?!

Fine!

Let’s pretend.

3

Everly

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I can do this. Nobody has fired me yet, and I can do this.

Dustin is the videographer for the documentary we’re working on, and since we have multiple staged photo shoots that will be published in an article accompanying the documentary, I wanted to check my plans with him before we get started. Behind me Ryder is talking with the team’s publicity manager, and at the door the models are entering.

“Hi Tina, this is Everly. She’s our photographer today.”

I look up to see Dustin presenting the on-site project assistant and shake her hand.

“Tina’s going to make sure the models and athletes are all equipped with the right modesty patches where necessary, and she will also ensure there are barriers in place for physical points of contact,” Dustin continues, and I nod along before Tina starts showing me the modesty socks and patches to be used today. It’s all super standard, nothing I haven’t seen before. But my heart rate skyrockets, and I gulp back a small hiccup as suddenly the awareness that I’m not just photographing naked people today hits me. I’ve done this hundreds of times, just never with someone I know in a personal way.

I don’t know how I managed to talk through this whole project with Ryder’s little sister, get through all the interviews knowing that this is The Dallas Mavericks we’re shooting, and not register that at some point I might have to see Rachel’s brother naked!

This just goes to show how taking a work break for a year can really set a girl back. I groan quietly when I think about how holidays with the Jones family will never be the same again.

I shake my head hard and roll my shoulders as I tune back into Tina’s comments. We spend the next fifteen minutes talking through the planned shots, and then we split to our various stations while I guzzle a bottle of water in the hope that it will help me cool off and remain sane.

Five minutes later, Ed, the director, gives us his welcome and spiel. I try not to glance at Ryder, but my eyes are drawn to him despite my best efforts. The instant I look at him, I regret it. He always had this intense gaze, and when I was younger it used to intimidate me. I’m grown up now, but so is he, and by God it’s unnerving! I can’t tell if I’m turned on or if I want to run and hide, but there’s no denying the impact the man has.

I subtly gulp again and make an effort to turn my attention back to Ed, though I don’t hear a word he says. Okay, this is going to be way more challenging than I thought.

Minutes later, Ryder and the models are in place before the screen, and I’m up. Stepping forward, I gather all the confidence and experience I carry into a tight ball and foist myself into the fray, asking Tina for minor adjustments here or there. Checking lighting, checking lighting, and checking lighting again. Despite earlier lighting checks, we spend another ten minutes checking lighting once more before we get down to taking the shots. When we finally begin, everything is going well with just a few tweaks here and there ...

“Ryder I am going to need you to stop looking at the camera so much,” I say to him. “Save it for the next shot.”

He frowns down at the basketball in his hands, and I snap the pic. Perfect.

“Get me the other back light. I want something in a warmer tone.”

Ryder is front and center, first photographed with the models in various poses, and in the afternoon we dismiss the extras and move to action shots - jumping, dunking, and mid-air leaps - complete with a spray bottle for dampening effect. I’ve worked with a range of models and scenarios, so I don’t think much of it when I see that he’s visibly aroused. The first shots were with mostly naked female models, and he’s in a towel half the time. It’s perfectly normal. Plus, I know for a fact that I interrupted a sexually intense session, so chances are the guy will have blue balls by the end of the morning shoot. My mind stays intent on the task at and, and at some point I feel myself relax into the job because God, I love photography!

The afternoon session is more intimate with fewer people. Although the production still has a lot of people milling in and out, the actual photography shots only require about four of us. and the setting soon becomes more intimate. Tina is in and out as needed while I run the shoot, and two technicians stand off to the side ready to bring in props or adjust lighting. The rest have withdrawn to different corners of the huge room to review materials, clean up, take business calls, and care for a plethora of other things.

“Ryder, go ahead and switch your stance,” I call out. He stares at me for a second but doesn’t move, so I step out from behind the camera and try again. “I want you to open up your frame to the camera. Your right foot forward has you angled toward the wall right now. Let’s put the left in front.”

“I think this way is better.” His flat statement catches me off guard, and my head whips toward him.

“Excuse me?”

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