Picture Perfect Page 11

  As my door clicked closed, the tears began to fall, subsiding sometime after midnight when my body finally gave in to merciful sleep.

  * * *

  I might have drifted off eventually, but that didn’t mean there was anything peaceful about it. I didn’t feel rested at all the next morning, and I didn’t know that makeup could cover all the sins of sobbing and sleeplessness.

  I didn’t have to work at the coffee shop that morning, so I decided to go to Greg’s studio as soon as he opened to just get it all over with. I’d already resolved to dance with the devil, so I might as well get started.

  It began with lots of concealer and foundation, dark and heavy eyeliner, and extra blush on my pale cheeks followed with the rest of my regular makeup routine. Dressing was another ordeal. In spite of the fact that I was signing up to be a sex slave, I wanted nothing that was suggestive today. Knowing Greg, he’d have me in all manner of suggestive outfits soon enough. This was my last chance to be respectful and demure—I was going to take it. Jeans, boots, and an oversized sweater made me almost feel like I’d donned chainmail.

  As I drove to Greg’s studio, I had a fleeting thought that he’d have an agreement for me to sign, much like the contracts/ releases I signed every time I’d modeled for him, but, of course, he wouldn’t. That would be evidence of blackmail. No, he was the one with the leverage—the contract would be to protect my interests, and it was obvious he had no concern over my well-being.

  When I arrived, he was already there but the door was locked. I rang the bell, wondering if maybe he’d chosen to close a few days around the holidays, but he showed up at the door after a couple of seconds.

  “Ivy…what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  Ugh. What an ass. He had to know how miserable this was for me, didn’t he? “You gave me twenty-four hours…so I’m here to give you an answer.”

  He cocked an eyebrow as I stepped inside the warm studio. Like a gentleman, he came around behind me to remove my coat. As much as I wanted to protest, I told myself I’d have to get used to whatever he did, so I finagled my purse while I allowed him to hang my coat on the rack in the corner. “And where’s your phone?”

  An odd question, but simple enough to answer. “Here.” I reached in my purse.

  “Mind if I look at it?”

  What the hell was he going to do? I sucked a deep breath in through my nostrils before I handed it over. If he broke it or did anything stupid, I was going to have to rethink all this. But he clicked a button and saw that it was locked. “Mind keying in your passcode?” He handed me the phone and I did as instructed. “I just want to make sure you’re not doing anything foolish, like recording our conversation.” I let him take it from me again, wondering why I hadn’t even considered doing something like that. Getting him in trouble with the law for illegal activities might have been my escape from what was surely going to be a year-long nightmare.

  Once he was satisfied that I wasn’t recording us, he said, “So you’ve made your decision?”

  I nodded as a queasy feeling settled in the pit of my gut. “I have. I just have one question.”

  “What’s that?” His lips curled up at the corners as I realized he already knew what my answer was going to be.

  “How can I be sure you’ll do everything you’ve said you’re going to do? How can I know I can trust you?”

  His expression changed, a shadow seeming to enshroud it for a moment, but then the façade was back up in place when he answered. “I suppose you can’t, can you? We’ll have nothing in writing. All you have is my word.” He ran his tongue along his teeth. “You know what? As a gesture of good faith, I’ll take down one of my exclusive photos right now—and you can watch. Would that help ease your fears?”

  Hell, no, but my fears went deeper than merely hoping I could trust Greg to keep his end of the bargain. Lots deeper. I wasn’t going to say so, though, because I supposed this “act of faith” was more than I could have hoped for. “I suppose.”

  I followed him into his office and stood behind him as he sat at his desk and clicked on his mouse. His website was already open in one of the tabs in the browser, and he clicked a couple of links until we were on a page with pictures of Shane and me. Seeing all the poses, the different lighting, various stages of dress and undress brought that day back to me, that day when I’d sealed my fate, possibly ruining the remainder of my life.

  No, that wasn’t putting too fine a point on it.

  He landed on one that was particularly suggestive—and damning. Yes, he knew exactly how badly these photos could ruin my career in the hands of the right people. I was looking at a picture on a dark background. Shane’s face couldn’t be seen—just his jaw. My face, though turned to the side, was recognizable, and I looked lusty, an expression I’d been able to conjure up for many a photo shoot, but as I recalled, part of that wasn’t acting that day. It didn’t matter, though. The worst part was that I was topless, my body turned toward the camera. Shane’s body was shielded by mine as he stood behind me, his large hands emerging from behind, cupping my breasts almost like a makeshift bra. “How about that one?”

  Yeah, that would be a great start. I nodded, and Greg clicked on a different tab. He moved quickly, clicking with precision, and after a few seconds, he clicked back on the website tab and refreshed the screen. Scrolling down, he showed me that that particular photo was no longer on his website.

  I knew the photo was still available should he choose to put it back up on the website; I was going to have to trust him—a difficult place for me, considering the position he’d put me in. That said, it was a gesture of good faith, as he’d called it, and I’d have to learn to trust him as much as I could. “I’ll take down one photo every month and then, at the end of the year, they’ll all come down. Does that help?”

  Not really, but I wasn’t going to say that. Instead, I nodded again, as though I’d forgotten how to speak.

  “But tit for tat. How do I know you’ll follow through with your end of the bargain?”

  I wasn’t thinking clearly or I would have immediately countered with an argument that, unlike me, he had nothing to lose in the bargain. He knew as well as I did that if I didn’t follow through, he still had the photos—and even the one he’d just now taken down he could probably restore with a couple of quick clicks. My position was tenuous, though, and I feared that arguing wouldn’t benefit me, so I instead just raised my eyebrows and shook my head, letting him know that I didn’t have a good answer.

  He sneered then and I felt my eyes narrow as I tried desperately to interpret his body language. “We could start now. That, for me, would be a solid indication that you’re on board and willing to do your part.” My body grew tense, knowing that meant but one thing—I’d have to give it over to him and let him have his way with me.

  At this point, I merely prayed he wouldn’t expect me to kiss him. That would be next to impossible right now.

  He got closer to me but kept his hands off for the moment. Cocking an eyebrow, he said, “Are you willing to start now? Your gesture of good faith?”

  I believed I didn’t have much of a choice. If I said no, I would have expected him to restore the photo he’d just taken down back to its former spot on his website. In that aspect, I was already ahead today and, perhaps, if he was happy with our arrangement, I could later talk him into taking down more photos sooner rather than later. And I could spend the next month coming up with a game plan—one for securing a job for the future, coming up with a good explanation as to why I hadn’t applied before completing the dissertation process and that sort of thing.

  So I nodded, unable to say it. I just didn’t have it inside me to speak the words.

  “Come with me.” In less than a minute, we were inside the back area of the studio, in the space where most of the questionable photos had been taken. I glanced around, trying to ensure that there were no cameras ready to snap new photos of me in compromisin
g positions. His mind was on my previous photo sessions as well, evident by his next words. “I have an eye for art and can keep my head in the game when I’m snapping photos, but that doesn’t mean that later on I’m not thinking about a session in a less-than-professional way.” He got closer to me and brushed the hair on my right side behind my shoulder, his fingers grazing my skin. If that had been Shane, I would have felt like I was on fire, as though my entire world revolved around that moment. But this was Greg, the apparently perverted photographer who’d been wanting to get his fingers in my pants for a long time and had found a way to coerce me into it.

  He brought his lips to my ears and I felt myself shudder—not with desire but with repulsion.

  “You are so goddamned beautiful, Ivy. From your almond eyes to the curve of your hips and the way you speak to the camera, you’re one of those rare creatures who says more with her body than she knows.” I could feel his hot breath against my neck and I braced myself to feel him touch me. It was a moment I’d been dreading since I’d considered moving forward with this agreement, and I knew the first touch would be the worst. After that, I’d find a way to grow used to it.

  He couldn’t see my face but I wanted to be sure I wasn’t giving anything away, just in case he happened to look, so I closed my eyes. He wrapped his hands around my upper arms and I managed that okay, understanding then that it was the touch of his mouth on me that I dreaded the most.

  But instead of feeling his lips caress my neck or ears, I heard a sound that touched me like music. “Get your filthy fucking hands off her right this instant.”

  That was Shane. I opened my eyes, not fully understanding why he was there or what he was doing. Words once more escaped me but Greg had no problem speaking. “What the hell are you doing here, Shane?”

  “That’s my woman there, and you’re not going to lay a hand on her.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong. She belongs to me now, and I’m getting ready to take what’s mine.”

  Shane got closer and looked at me. “Are you okay, Ivy?”

  I blinked. My heart had just expanded to fill my chest cavity, filled with love and adoration for this man, but this gesture wouldn’t help my cause. I gave him a quick nod, letting him know I was all right and, I hoped, communicating that I was there willingly. His eyes left mine, though, as he reached into his jacket pocket. Then he flung two stacks to the floor that made a strange sound as they impacted the concrete beneath our feet. My mind wasn’t registering what was happening, so I stared at the floor, trying to wrap my mind around what was I was seeing.

  “There’s twenty-thousand right now. The total for you to take down all her pictures is one-hundred thousand, right?” I swallowed, realizing finally what was happening. “The rest I’ll bring later in the week.”

  Greg squinted his eyes, considering Shane’s words. “One hundred thousand?”

  “Yeah. That was your initial offer, right?”

  Greg looked over at me, as if I’d been a slice of decadent chocolate cake shown to diners, only to be whisked away by the server. “That was my initial offer…but I’m reconsidering now that we’ve moved on to other forms of payment.”

  What happened next took me by surprise. Without hesitation, Shane propelled his fist into Greg’s jaw, hitting the man so hard he reeled. More than that, though, was Greg’s expression—one of complete shock. Then pain. He opened his mouth to speak, to demand to know what the hell Shane was doing, when Shane said, “No, you’re going to take the one-hundred thousand. And then you’re going to take her photos down and you’re going to leave them down.”

  I could almost see the wheels in Greg’s head turning, grappling with what Shane was offering. “You’re ruining her life, man, and you know it.”

  “You’re ruining my business.”

  “You know I’m not. There are plenty of people out there willing to pose for you in whatever way you want. Not Ivy, but lots of other women and men.” I could see the reluctance in Greg’s eyes, but I could also see defeat. He knew he was done before it had even started. He’d asked for money first; I only hoped he’d agree to Shane’s terms as I felt my heart lighten in my chest.

  “I’ll do one last shoot for you too—for free. A solo shoot, just me. You just have to promise to leave Ivy alone.”

  So Shane Sanders wound up being my hero that day…but I knew that didn’t mean we weren’t still over…and I wasn’t willing to let my heart hope.

  * * *

  “Five. Four. Three. Two. One…Happy New Year!” On the flat screen TV on the wall, the big flashy ball in Times Square stopped moving as the next year began. I had known Shane wanted to be there in person, considering New York was now his new home, but his arms around my waist lifting me up to kiss him told me he was okay watching it on television.

  I’d been sure that, having given up such a huge amount of money and then, on top of that, agreeing to pose for free when he was such a hot commodity nowadays and could have named his rate…well, I’d been sure that I’d never see him again. He’d made a huge sacrifice for me and basically made my life livable again. No, actually, more than that. It wasn’t just livable now; I was going to thrive.

  But then this morning, after most of the holiday baloney had passed, Shane called. He asked me how I was doing and I reciprocated…but then I expressed my deepest gratitude, assured him that what he’d done was, essentially, save my life as I’d known it, preserved all my hard work, made it really mean something, kept it from going to waste. I’d never be able to repay him.

  I expected him to ask why I had been ready to whore myself, but I think he understood. He must have known, because I knew he hadn’t gone to Greg’s with money and willing fist for selfish reasons. But Shane never asked. Maybe he knew something about me I hadn’t known myself.

  He’d said, though, that he wanted someone to spend New Year’s Eve with.

  So we sat in a crowded night club, dancing and having more fun than I’d had in ages, and we talked a little about our futures. Shane was contemplating the west coast, maybe dipping his toe in the acting waters, and I…well, I wasn’t sure. I had to decide where I wanted to begin my professional life.

  Just before we had to start counting the ball drop flashing on the big screens over the bar area, Shane had asked, “Have you ever thought about teaching in California? Lots of schools there…”

  I hadn’t been able to respond because we were counting down to January.

  But after the entire swarm of people yelled “Happy New Year!” along with us, Shane picked me up and swung me around, kissing me like his life depended on it.

  Once he placed my feet on the ground, he asked me again, this time louder as the noise in the place had risen another level. “So what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “Moving to L.A. Teaching there? Have you ever considered it?”

  I shrugged a little. “I actually hadn’t thought much about it. I mean, sure, I thought of different places across the country where I wouldn’t mind locating and definitely had my eyes on particular schools I was interested in but…since this whole thing with Greg, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.” I took a breath and pondered the thought. Without someone like Shane, I didn’t think the big city would appeal to me, prestigious school or not. With him, though, I could imagine myself anywhere. But I wasn’t sure what he was asking—if that was even a possibility—so I said, “I guess maybe.”

  And then he blew me away. “What if you were moving in with your new boyfriend?”

  My smile was tentative and I didn’t even notice when Shane began whisking me away from the throng. I looked up at him, afraid to hope. “I suppose I would definitely consider it.”

  “I told you I’m moving there soon, right?” I nodded. He stopped walking and pulled me close. All I could see then was his face, the sincerity in his eyes; he was the only thing in my world, in spite of the lights and noise surrounding us. “It’s been one of the weirdest times of my life, Ivy, but I want
you with me. I know there’s a lot we don’t know about each other still, but I want to discover you. I want to have someone who understands me, someone who respects me and cares about me as more than just a sexy guy.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. Shane was more than just a pretty face. After all I’d been through, all the stress, I knew I was willing to take a chance on a guy who was probably a sure thing. Suddenly, I was ready to finish my dissertation and look for a place to settle—now I wanted to find that dream job. Did I already have my dream guy? I was willing to bet it all on Shane. But I felt light and flirty, and so my next words were teasing. I cupped his jaw in my hand. “What makes you think I don’t objectify you? Maybe you are just a sexy guy to me.”

  He grinned, letting me know he knew better. He kissed me then, one that consumed me and reminded me of why Shane and I were combustible together. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He kissed me again and then glanced around as I felt something swell between us. Mmm. This guy always got my juices flowing, and I was beginning to suspect that feeling was mutual. Shane glanced around. “In fact, I’m ready for you to take complete advantage of me right now.”

  Feeling devilish, I snaked my hand between our bodies and rubbed my hand along his swollen shaft. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  Shane kissed my neck before whispering in my ear. “Lead the way, madame.”

  I felt his tongue on my neck and then opened my eyes. Surely, there was some out-of-the-way spot in this place where a couple could get off…I’d just have to find it. But it would have to be a place where no cameras were allowed.

  And I knew Shane and I would likely have this kind of chemistry for life. I led him by the hand around the place and knew that the rest of my life was likely to be picture perfect—and hotter than hell.

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