Page 6 of Mr Best Friend's Brother Grump

The models have all had their individual shots. Now they group together. The art director, who is introduced to me as Sebastian, talks with Nathan. These are less formal. The models are supposed to be guests at a yacht party. They are given colorful liquid in elaborate glasses. When the models aren’t being photographed, they stand to the side looking bored and sulky until they get the signal, then they smile and laugh and pretend they are having the best time imaginable. Nathan moves among them, taking low-angle shots, close up. He’s like a prowling lion. The models show him what they’ve got, creating shapes with each other, leaning out over the shiny chrome rail, using it to push and pull on. Nathan nods to Sebastian who calls ‘break’, and the models go back to bored and sulky.

The wind is very brisk now and the models are beginning to shiver in their skimpy outfits. Esmerelda sways with the undulations. The models huddle together in hoodies and jackets, then they are herded inside to the cabins.

Clouds are scudding over the clear blue perfect morning. The increased motion of the yacht causes a strange wooziness to wash over me. Nathan tells me to pack the lights away. It helps to have something else to think about apart from the rise and fall of the boat. He tells me he has the outside shots he wants. The sky quickly darkens, and raindrops splat on the deck as I struggle to get the reflector back in its bag. It clearly doesn’t want to miss out on anything and springs back when I squish its sides together. Nathan bounds over.

“Like this,” he says and with one elegant movement, he has twisted the reflector in on itself and, magically, it is a perfect size and shape to slot into the bag. Zipping it up, he briskly hands it to me.

“Right. Set up in the master cabin for some close-ups. Just one lamp on a low stand.” He checks his watch. “We’ll have time before we get back to the marina.” He gives my shoulder a hearty slap as if I’m in a sports team.

“Great.” I try for enthusiasm, but I don’t quite hit the mark. I’m exhausted. I’m feeling seasick and I just want to lie down in a room that’s not moving. Why did I agree to this? To help Kendra out, I remind myself. It’s only one day. I can do it. It doesn’t matter about Mr Grump with the camera and his bad manners. I’m not trying to impress him. This is not my life. I am doing a favor for a friend. That is all.

Inside the cabin, a huge round bed dominates the space beneath a massive sparkly chandelier. I resist the urge to curl up on the shiny peach, ruched, tasseled bedspread and, breathing deeply, begin setting up the lamp and tripod. Cautiously, I unzip the reflector bag. The folded-up disk springs to life, but like a longstanding adversary, I’m ready for it this time.

The models a marshalled in one at a time and are directed to sit or stand. I’m more confident with where the light should be, and, without wind, I’m able to angle the reflector accordingly.

“Great, Rosa. That’s good. Hold it there. One more… And thank you.” Nathan’s words of praise resonate way more than they should. The illogical disproportionate weight and meaning create an inner glow that I can only explain with my emotional sensitivity and growing weariness.

The models are dismissed. I pack up the equipment into, what I hope are, the correct bags. I send up a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that we are heading back, and my obligations to Mr Grump are almost complete. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I would be excited about being soon released from my servitude as photography assistant dog’s body lackey.

Nathan sits on the edge of the bed and reaches for his laptop. He flicks a memory card from one of the cameras and clicks it into the side of the machine. His movements are swift and elegant. His face is impassive; attention laser focused on the photos displayed on the computer screen. The rain taps lightly on the window. I’m aware of my breathing. We are alone. I stand near the door not sure whether to leave him to it or not.

"Want to see the shots we've taken this morning?" he asks, indicating the computer screen in front of him. I nod shyly, trying to ignore my unsettled stomach. I sit beside him on the bed and watch the images flash up on the screen. My heart races. Could it be the onset of motion sickness or this grumpy, yet sexy man being so close? I'm acutely aware of his presence beside me. Despite his abrupt aloofness, I can't help but feel drawn to him. We are very close now, and I’m almost breathless at the way our thighs are touching. I struggle to focus on the images displayed on the screen.

Nathan coughs slightly and turns to me. “Thanks for filling in today,” he says, his voice softer than before.

A blush creeps up my cheeks at the unexpected intimacy. “You’re welcome,” I mumble, my heart pounding. His kind words take me by such surprise that I blink several times to recover. I swallow hard, feeling both elated and self-conscious. Nathan smiles, causing creases to fan out from the outer corners of his clear, intelligent eyes. What color were they? Green? Hazel? A mixture of colors radiating from a golden-brown center. He holds my gaze, making my heart race even faster. The smile disappears as he looks away to the screen again.

The intensity is broken by a knock at the door. Sebastian pops his head in to announce we’re almost at the marina. The rain has stopped drumming on the window, but my heart still drums fast in my chest. Nathan closes the laptop and slides it into its sleeve. I stand and start collecting the bags, hoisting them onto my shoulder, one at a time. The boat lurches and I stumble, almost losing my balance.

"Careful," Nathan says quietly, reaching out to steady me. I feel his hand linger on my arm for a moment longer than necessary before he withdraws it. He coughs slightly and says in his usual gruff tone, "We should probably get the gear on deck." The shutters of professionalism come down as he regains composure. The moment between us dissipates like the swirl of mist on the morning river. Was there a moment at all, or had I just imagined it? Am I simply overreacting to a few kind words from a very grumpy man?

Chapter 4

Nathan

The Poolside shoot went better than expected. Rosa wasn’t as much of a hindrance as I thought she was going to be. To be fair, she was actually helpful and managed to get everything back in the correct bags without me having to say anything, so yeah. Good for her.

We’re in a cab on the way back from the marina. Thinking about what needs to happen next. I’ll stop by the studio to drop off the lights and stands. Then I’ll have time to go through the final selection for Poolside and print off the hero shots on the large format printer.

I turn to Rosa to fill her in on the plan for the afternoon, but she’s out cold on the back seat. Her mouth is slightly open, and her cap has slipped across her eyes. There’s something about her that reminds me of a kitten, all curled up and cozy. I decide not to wake her. Whatever I have to say can wait.

It was awkward seeing Ingrid today. She’s pulling the ‘Let’s still be friends’ card. It’s inevitable that we’re going to run into each other. I mean, New York is a big city, but not in certain circles. It’s not like I can vet the models I’m going to be working with. I’ll just keep my distance and pull the ‘oh-so professional’ card if we do run into each other.

The taxi stops outside the photo studio. Rosa snorts herself awake.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty,” I say as I open the rear passenger door. Rosa almost flops out onto the parking lot. “Wakey wakey. Let’s get this gear inside.”

Rosa shakes herself and grabs the bags which are on the seat beside her. She slings them onto her shoulder and follows me through the side door. I flick on the lights and turn on the printer to warm it up. It hums to life and alternately blinks green and red lights.

“I’m sorry. Did I miss something?” asks Rosa as if she’s in a dream. She blinks and looks around the high-ceilinged industrial space.

“What? What do you mean?”

Rosa seems bewildered by my response. “I thought we were done for the day and going back to the apartment.” She squeezes her eyes tightly shut and rubs her head.

“No. No, the shoot was just the first bit…” I thought she knew. Then I remember that we hadn’t had that conversation. “Right. We just have to put the gear away. I’ll go through the best shots, get the go-ahead from Sebastian and the marketing people at Poolside, then we’ll print out the top ten that are going to be displayed at the launch party. Then we’ll head back to base. Got it?”

“Ah. Well." Rosa sighs. "I had plans to sort my life out today.” Rosa takes her phone out of her pocket, turns it on, and studies the screen.

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