Page 16 of Fateful Exposure

I told myself that this was me saving him from being tied down to a woman he barely knew, but deep down, I knew better.

seven

Ashton

If I had a penny for every time someone called me an ass, Elon Musk and I would be best friends and exchanging deep secrets.

I'd never minded, not once. It was better to be called arrogant than to be looked down on. That was my motto. Always had been and always would be.

But Selma had called me an ass thirty-three times in the past hour. Yes, I was counting. And yes, after a while, it stopped being funny.

What is wrong with her?I wondered. She'd called one of my pictures ugly and distasteful. I could take a few insults andmaybe a couple of verbal blows, but an attack on my work? That was where I drew the line.

I heaved a sigh because I was at my wit's end. Right now, she was complaining about my lighting and how it made the model look like shit. Said model, Maria, seemed visibly offended. Even she hadn’t been spared from Selma's wrath.

This wasn't an actual shoot. I'd suggested we play around with some of Selma's old designs just to get the hang of things. I'd never photographed any of her designs before. While I tried to be excited because she actually knew a thing or two about fashion design, it was hard to do with her breathing down my neck.

"Maria, come on. You managed to make pink look like a funeral color," Selma commented wryly from the corner she'd been standing in for the past thirty minutes.

"Alright." Maria stepped away from the photo backdrop, moving sluggishly in the ten-inch heels Selma had made her wear. "I'm done. You're not paying me at all for this shit, so I don't have to do it."

When she almost fell flat on her face, she huffed angrily, lowering to a crouch to undo the straps of the heels. "What is wrong with you today, Selma? You're acting like a major bitch."

I glanced at Selma and was surprised to find her gaze focused on me. I raised a puzzled brow at the angry look on her face, trying to figure out if I said anything to piss her off, but nothing cameto mind. In fact, I'd been more than amicable today, if you asked me.

"Yeah, peaches. Is everything okay?" I asked wearily.

She tore her gaze from me to look at Maria. "Maybe it's the fact that you're not taking this seriously."

Maria's face held a look of bewilderment. "I'm not taking this seriously? Are you shitting me? I've been standing in ten-inch heels for the past two hours. I can't feel my fucking legs."

"Don't be coy. You've modeled before."

"Yeah, not in killer heels," Maria grunted angrily as one heel came loose. She focused on the other. "What is up with you today, Selly?"

"Nothing," Selma murmured, but her tone indicated that it was a lie. "Let's pick this up some other time."

She didn't wait for a response before turning and leaving the makeup studio, followed closely by her assistant, who also seemed to dislike me.

After loosening the heels' straps, Maria straightened to her full height and stared at the door before meeting my gaze. "What was that about?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. She's your friend, isn't she?" I started to pack up my equipment, feeling oddly unsettled.

"Yeah," Maria said behind me. "But you're usually the one who gets her all riled up."

"You don't say."

"Seriously." She was suddenly in front of me, her expression eager and full of interest. I noticed she had changed out of the clothes and into hers. "Aside from the sex—"

I groaned. I didn't know anyone who loved gossip as much as she did. "Maria, please, no."

"—which we'll get to very soon. Did you do anything to piss her off?"

I shook my head, zipping up my camera bag and hoisting it over one shoulder. "I don't think so. Though I've been told I'm very annoying."

"That you are," she agreed promptly.

I rolled my eyes at her, heading for the door. "You coming?"

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