Page 9 of Picture Perfect

Then I got on with my life. Work and school and “regular” modeling gigs got me back in the swing of things. But, just as I was settling in and feeling like things were back to “normal,” the rug was pulled out from underneath me. Typical.

Only it wasn’t as bad as I make it sound.

Greg called me a few months later for another shoot. It was the middle of summer—hot and dry, the perfect time for a shoot in one’s underwear, provided the AC wasn’t cranked up so high inside his studio that it felt like winter anyway. I agreed to the shoot but made up my mind that I would tell him before signing the contract that my bra was staying on. My integrity and my heart couldn’t afford another episode like last time. I knew, looking back, that having my bra off wasn’t the only thing playing into what had happened that day. It was more the fact that I’d found Shane irresistibly attractive…and the feeling had been mutual.

Having my bra off hadn’t helped, though…and if I didn’t put my foot down now, I could see Greg asking for more. After all, I hadn’t been posing for him for that long in the grand scheme of things. For all I knew, this was how he operated—slowly getting his models to do more and more compromising things for the sake of “art” and reaping the benefits. It didn’t matter that he’d paid me more; it wasn’t something I wanted to get in the habit of doing. Last time, my nipples had been hidden from the camera; would Greg ask for more next time?

That was why I had to draw the line. If he wanted me as a model, he would do it.

But he beat me to instigating that conversation. After I arrived in his lobby, twenty minutes early so I’d have plenty of time to chat, he said, “Ivy, I sensed that things were pretty strained by the end of the shoot, so I think—for now, anyway—I’m going to have you leave your underwear on.”

“I’m glad you brought that up, Greg. I think that needs to be a permanent rule for me. It’s out of my comfort zone.” He nodded but I wanted to make it perfectly clear. “If that’s the kind of model you need, I’m going to have to bow out.”

He looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know that I need that kind of model…but we got some great shots last time, shots that couldn’t have happened without your help. So thanks.” We started walking back into the studio area. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but Shane’s star is on the rise.”

I wanted to pretend like those few hours of my life had meant nothing and say, Shane who? But Greg was no dummy and I wasn’t a very good actress, so I’d skip the make believe. I was finding it irritating that Greg couldn’t drop that last shoot, though. I wanted to move on, put that all behind me, and he was forcing me to think about it more. I shook my head. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, those pictures. You know, we did the ones outside—that was the one that had been requested. But it was the indoor shots I put on my website for purchase that got everyone’s attention. And they’re being snatched up like hotcakes. Shane’s become a bit of a hot commodity. Authors have been fawning all over the photos of the two of you, and based on their response to the new kid on the block, I did a couple of solo shots with him and paired him with a couple of other females, too.” He smiled. “There was a request for him to be on an M/M cover, but he’s not ready for that yet. It’s one of those mindset things, you know?” We stood in the middle of the space, but Greg started fiddling with one of the tall lights, adjusting the height and moving it to another position. “I have plenty of men who are willing to do that, so the authors’ll just have to settle.”

Why was he telling me this? Yes, it was news to me, but why should I even care?

“In fact, he’s finally hired an agent…so this’ll probably be my last shoot with him.”

Okay…there it was. The big reveal. Why hadn’t I seen that one coming? “Wait…Shane’s the other model today?”

Greg stood and cocked his head. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you that?”

I felt my teeth clenching and I had to forcibly relax so I could answer. “Nope. You failed to mention that.”

“Yeah—he specifically requested you for this shoot.”

Good thing I hadn’t put my purse down.

Or signed the paperwork yet.

“Sorry, Greg. I’m going to have to pass.” For my sanity. For my heart. For what little dignity I had left.

“Are you kidding, Ivy? Your chance to work with someone—”

I felt the venom rising and I wanted to spit it right at him. He was getting ready to talk about Shane’s sudden fame and ask why I didn’t want a part of that. Obviously, those same people who’d seen Shane had seen me, too, and they weren’t going nuts over me—and that was fine. But Greg seemed to forget that I was only in this for the money—and it wasn’t a permanent thing. Once I’d defended my dissertation and found my way into my dream job, this pay-the-bills one would be a thing of the past.

I stuck my finger out, letting Greg know his arguments wouldn’t be effective. “Sorry. If I’d known, I would have told you no earlier.” I turned on my heel and began walking toward the front.

“What if I doubled your usual fee?” I hesitated then. He was offering me an obscene amount of money and had already promised I could leave my bra on. I would be an idiot to pass that one up. And he knew it, based on how I’d stopped in my tracks.

I couldn’t say no. Not yet. Not with double the money and a guarantee of nothing compromising. My nest egg had been growing considerably over the past year, enough that I knew my student loans wouldn’t be a concern as long as I kept up the earning pace. So I turned around and decided to just get it over with. I’d sign the damn paper, feeling like I was giving up my soul, but I’d just do it. I walked to the table and found the contract with my information already printed in the blanks. Greg smiled and pulled it toward himself before I could touch it, scratching out the amount written for payment and doubling it, writing his initials beside the number. He then signed at the bottom before sliding it back to me, holding the pen toward me until I took it. As I scrawled my name on the other line, self-loathing simmering in my chest, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I let out a long sigh as I set the pen down and asked, “Why Shane?” I wanted to follow it up with Why not any other guy? After all, I’d had plenty of shoots with lots of other men and had always managed to keep my cool; in fact, a good many of them I hadn’t even had to work at maintaining my composure. Shane, though…and maybe part of it was because he’d been new. He hadn’t known how to act.

Ah, but I couldn’t blame it all on him. I, too, had my part in all that shit.

But that was all processing in the back of my brain while I looked at Greg, waiting for an answer. But the reply came from behind me instead of from Greg. “Because I requested you.”

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. I knew that voice. It was a lovely tenor timbre, one that made a variety of emotions charge through every fiber of my body in a matter of seconds. The animal part of me felt hungry in so many ways—lustful, yes, but also angry to my core, ready to rip that man apart. If anyone had asked me the day before how I felt about Shane Sanders, I would have given them what I’d have thought was an honest answer—hot guy, but kind of a jerk. Deep down, I knew I’d felt some weird unspoken connection with him, but I’d since attributed that to desire and being put in an unnatural situation. I was beginning to feel the same kind of love/ hate for modeling as well. Six months ago, I would have said it was the best thing that had happened to me but now…now I felt like Daniel Webster’s farmer. Did that make Greg the Devil? It would explain why I felt like I’d completely sold out.

I had. And now I was paying for it.

I didn’t turn to look at him. My brain was instead processing a hundred questions all at once. Why? That was the main one. Why me? Why couldn’t he just let me bury that part of my past, forget it, and move on?

But there was also one question for myself: Why did a part of me feel warm and special—satisfied, even, that Shane had chosen me over any other woman he could model with?

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