Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
Mike
Christine Hall is one of the most famous models in the world. She’s up and coming, gorgeous, and every photographer in the industry is dying to work with her. But today, it’s me that’s doing a shoot with her for Vogue. I should be thrilled at what this shoot will do for me. My reputation is already cemented as one of the best photographers in the business, but a shoot like this will only boost that even higher. But there’s something major distracting me today, and that’s my new assistant, Ivy.
I hired her two weeks ago to replace Trisha, my last girl who’d been with me for nearly a year and decided to go and get pregnant. And ever since then, I just have not been able to focus.
If you ask me, Ivy should be in front of the camera, not behind it. She’s every bit as gorgeous as any of the girls I’ve shot in my career as a fashion photographer. The only thing she lacks is the confidence. Even now as I shoot Christine, all I can think about is what it would be like to shoot Ivy.
Vogue doesn’t even know what they’re missing.
“Mike? Hello?” I look over at the backdrop to see Christine giving me an impatient glare and realize I’ve been daydreaming, my eyes on Ivy as she organizes my lenses and storage cards over in the corner.
“Sorry,” I quickly apologize. “I was…thinking about something.”
“Well, can we get back to shooting, please?” she asks in that tone. “I can’t spend all of my day at your studio.”
“Of course,” I reply, trading her back the phony smile she’s giving me.
I raise my camera and go back to shooting. I’ll give it to Christine, she may be obnoxious and fake, which is typical for this industry, but at least she knows how to pose. And that’s a valuable skill for someone who’s only been working for a little over a year.
“Great,” I say. “These are great. Why don’t you turn around and give me a few over the shoulder.”
Christine follows my direction to the T. We shoot for another fifteen minutes or so, and although everything goes perfectly, I can’t help but wonder what this shoot would be like if I had Ivy in front of my lens. Sure, maybe she’s not mentally ready for it yet, but I could coach her.
If it was just her and me, maybe…
Vogue wouldn’t know what hit them. The fashion industry wouldn’t either. The whole world would not be ready for her.
Ivy defies the fashion model beauty standard. She’s not stick thin. She has curves that always get my mouth watering every morning when I see her. She has hips that get my fingers moving as I think about what it would be like to clutch them as I hold her from behind. She has breasts that remind me of perfect scoops of ice cream, and on top of all that, she has the face of an angel.
She is perfection. Pure perfection, and I totally screwed myself when I hired her as my assistant.
“Okay, Ivy,” I call out. “Let’s get these images transferred over to my computer.”
“Yes, Mr. Barrett,” she replies, coming over and taking my camera from me. I try not to smile at the formality. It’s been two weeks, and she still won’t call me Mike, despite me having told her to many times.
“Well, that went well,” I say to Christine as she starts to get dressed into her street clothes. That’s one thing about models; they aren’t shy.
“Looked good from here,” Zack, her boyfriend says, coming over from his seat in the corner.
“They were great.” Christine nods. “I can tell when a shoot goes well, and that went well.”
“Good thing we finished up so quick too,” Zack says with a grin. He’s chewing on a toothpick and looks like he hasn’t showered in a few days. I’ve never understood his and Christine’s relationship.
“Got some place to be?” I ask.
“My uncle’s dirt bike barbeque,” he replies. “We do it every year.”
Christine smiles. “It’s so much fun.”
“Ah.” I nod. “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to miss that for something like this.”
Just then, Ivy comes up beside me, walking slowly and gingerly like she does when there’s something wrong. I immediately turn away from Christine and Zack as she leans in and whispers. “There’s…a problem.”
“What is it?”
“You…um…forgot to put an SD card in the camera. None of the photos saved.”
I nearly have a heart attack right then and there. I move back so I can get a better look at Ivy’s face just to make sure she’s not screwing with me.
“You’re joking.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “No.”
I quickly replay the events that took place before the shoot in my head:
Ivy and I were here at the studio getting ready. The backdrop was all set up, so I just made sure everything was sturdy. She had charged the camera batteries beforehand, so I doublechecked them and loaded one up. She cleaned my lens, I took it from her, put it on the camera, and then was all set to put an SD card in the camera…