“Sugar, I’m sorry, but I’m working. I can’t do nothing else right now.”
“AJ sent me to see if I could help.”
“Oh bless that boy right down to his bones. You ever been his assistant before?”
“No, but I follow direction well.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
With that came my first instructions as a photography assistant. I never dreamed that taking pictures was so physically demanding.
We set up tables, we took down tables, we unrolled huge rolls of paper, we rolled them back up again, we carried heavy product and placed it, Jovana would click, then we would place it a different way.
Lights had to be placed, and then placed differently.
I had to keep watch so no one would trip over cords, or knock down lights, or battery packs, or silver umbrellas and their stands.
There were things to create light, things to bounce light, things to absorb light, things to diffuse light, and things to filter light.
There were cameras and lenses and computers and all kinds of stuff I didn’t even know the names of.
After a couple hours, I was pooped. Actually, I was so tired my feet stopped hurting.
Jovana walked up with a big smile on her face. “Sugar, we got it. We got everything they asked for, we got it in great time, and I think that some of it was my best work. Thank you.”
“I actually had fun.”
“Sugar, if that was your idea of fun, you have an issue or two.”
“I like detail.”
“I could see that. You have a good eye for it. You ever thought of being a photographer?”
“I can take a picture, but there’s a difference between a picture and an image. Everybody that buys a digital camera thinks they’re a photographer, I know better.”
“Glad to hear it. So, what’s next for you?”
“I’m going back to the studio to see if I can help AJ. You want me to bring all this stuff back down there?”
“Not now. I’m going to lock the door and leave it in place. I’ll play around on the computer to make sure I have everything just the way I want it, and once I’m done, then we’ll worry about getting it all back to the studio.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“Always.”
“Why did you do the shoot here when you already had all your stuff at the studio?”
“My husband. While all those people were waiting to have their picture taken, he was selling them food and drink. For the brochures and product shots, I would normally just do them at the studio, but this company is very hands on. Doing all the shots here, gave my husband a chance to sell them stuff, and while they were out with him, they were leaving me alone. It worked out best for everyone. That’s how to build a successful small business, Sugar. Make sure that you always make every situation, a win-win for everybody involved.”
“Makes sense. I’m headed back to the studio.”
“Sugar, can I make a little suggestion?”
“Always.”
“When you leave this place, turn left, not right. Go to the end of the block, and cross the street. You’ll see the movie theater on your right. You go down into the courtyard, to the left of the theater. There’s a little shop there. They will have some reasonable shoes, so you can walk tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. Besides, I left my purse at the studio.”
“Sugar, you tell them I sent you, and that you will pay them later.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I limped out the door to the sound of Jovana’s laughter.
I was much faster on my feet by the time I got back to the studio. AJ took one look at me feet, smiled but didn’t say a word. Smart man.
“What can I do for you?”
“How did it go with Jovana?”
“It was fascinating. I really enjoyed it.”
“How was her mood?”
“Oh, she was a study in concentration, as they say, I thought it was pretty damn impressive.”
“Impressive?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, we’ve had some other people complain that she’s really hard to work for.”
“I must have hit her on a good day. I thought she was great.”
“Good to know. You want to help me with the last of the setup?”
“I’d love to.”
We walked into the studio. Where this morning there had been little more than an empty space and a bunch of boxes, there was now a wonderland.
“Wow, where did you get all this stuff?”
“One of the advantages of working in Old Town is that we are only a mile or two from two very well stocked theater prop and costume rental places. The good news is that they have just about everything you can think of, and if they don’t have it, they can make it in no time. The bad news is that it doesn’t come cheap, and when I’m in there, I can come up with about a million ideas for images that I’m never going to have the opportunity to take.”
“Why not?”
“Because most people say they want something different, but when it actually comes down to doing it, they want the same thing everyone else has.”
“That’s too bad, but I’ll bet if people saw some of your visions coming to life, they would want them.”
“I’ve tried that. I’ve offered to give untold numbers of models images for their portfolio in return for them doing the shoots, but either they just never get around to it, or they decide that they don’t want the image done the way that I want to do it, or they bring some manager, or boyfriend, or girlfriend, that thinks they know more about what should be done than I do. It’s really frustrating.”
“Well, you know the O’Flynns now. We may not be the prettiest group around, but we are interesting looking, and I’m sure that you could talk any of us into just about anything.”
“Really? Seems like that would be a huge imposition.”
“Firstly, we are a vain group, even if Teagan is the only one that will admit it, so if you tell them that you want to do professional quality images of them, they will jump at the chance. Secondly, we are not a shy group, and if your help is needed, we will happily ask, cajole, whine, threaten, barter, or call Mom. You might as well get something out of it too. That’s the way it works in a family.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. For now, we need to finish up this workshop, before Santa gets here.”
“Santa is coming? Crap!”
“What?”
“I walked right past the diner. I could have gotten milk and cookies.”
“I already have them. Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“I have props. Works better under the lights.”
I walked over and saw a plate of perfect Christmas cookies, and a cup of ice-cold milk. The Christmas cookies were as hard as stone, and just a tiny bit shiny. The milk was solid, as were the artistically placed little milk bubbles, right next to the red and white striped straw, very candy cane. It all made me smile.
Jolly St. Nick came in about a half an hour later. He was wearing the full Santa thing, with flip-flops. It is Florida after all.
Several minutes later, Morgan walked in. Turns out the photo shoot is for her client.
No one tells me anything any more.
Santa was drinking a beer, talking to Morgan about the local elementary school, turns out one of his kids is in Jordan’s class.
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear? Well, instead of eight tiny reindeer, twelve beautiful girls, in tiny - and we’re talking teeny-tiny - bikinis came walking in.
Jovana was right behind them.
Long story short, very long story, the girls are all shot-girls from Jovana’s bar. The bar is creating a calendar, flyers, post cards, and putting the girls up on their website.
Today, we shoot December.
Oh joy.
I took a deep breath.
Each and every one of the girls was wearing at least five-inch platforms, all of them bright red, all of
them made the girls look that much taller and thinner and more beautiful.
In my wee little brain, I cursed the fact that I’d taken off my skyscraper heels and replaced them with comfy little ballet flats that could pass for slippers. Now my jeans were all weird, and compared to them, I looked more teen babysitter than hot photographer’s girlfriend.
I’m entitled to a little body dysmorphic moment. I know I’m tall and thin, but damn! You put me in front of a bunch of girls that are so comfortable with themselves that they just walked through Old Town in almost a bikini, and super high red heels, and I’ll show you a woman that has a whole lot more body confidence than I do.
Plus, and I know it’s childish to mention it, these girls are doing everything they can to get the attention of the photographer so that he’ll make them the center of the picture.
I know AJ is a professional, I get that, but he’s also human.
Maybe this being around thing, while he is doing his thing, isn’t such a good idea after all.
I’m just sayin’.
It would be a shame if those girls were to get hit by an ugly stick.
Twice.
Actually, I think that if I’m ever working a shoot again, the Haagen Daz is on me. Anything but mint chocolate chip, cause that is my favorite, and I’d eat it all before they ever got there, so what would be the use?
The shoot took about an hour. From what Jovana said, with that many people involved, AJ is a genius. I knew that. The genius part anyway.
The prettiest girl had no idea how pretty she is.
I talked to her for a little bit. She’s just trying to make a living. She’s working, going to school, and raising a little girl, all on her own. She’s from out of state and has no family to help. I gave her my number for emergency babysitting. I can’t imagine trying to do all that alone. That’s what I have Teagan for.
The least pretty girl, who was far from ugly, was a total bitch. I don’t use that term lightly. I know it’s a no-no to speak poorly of other women, but somebody needs to kick her in the forehead. She ruined so many images trying to upstage the other girls, that finally Jovana walked up to her and said, “Honey, we need to have a little talk.” After all, it’s her bar, and if the pictures don’t come out well, she’s the one going to lose money, and since she and AJ are pretty much partners these days, she could step in without it being much of a problem.
Jovana and the diva went in the back of the studio, a few minutes later, model-zilla was under control. Kind of. At least she wasn’t making life difficult for all involved.
Morgan came over and gave me a hug before she left. We promised to get together to do all things wedding soon.
All the girls trouped out of the studio and headed back toward the bar.
Several of them took the opportunity to get a little attention for the place, parading down the middle of the street. Even in broad daylight there are enough tourists to make it a good idea. Jovana’s husband came out of the bar, flyers in hand, ran out to the girls and gave them a bunch.
The girls walked around handing out flyers, and posing for pictures, and getting lots of attention.
Before I knew it, a camera crew that was working on some other story, was getting it all for the six-o’clock news. Jovana and her husband couldn’t have been more pleased.
“Well, that was a long shoot.”
“Yeah, must have been terrible, all those girls flirting with you, mostly naked, and obviously willing.”
AJ let the comment go. He’s good at that, “I saw you talking to one of the girls. What was that about?”
“She has a baby, no family, I told her I would babysit if she ever has a real emergency.”
“You can’t save the world Cara, but I love the fact that you try.”
“It’s just babysitting. I’ve been doing that since I was about five. Not all by myself, but my mother liked to break us in early. She would be in the house, but we were in charge. Made us feel really important. Mostly we just danced around and made funny faces, cause we weren’t allowed to lift a baby till we were older, but I can lift them now, I don’t even have to have permission.” I gave him my most dazzling smile.
“Your mom’s a smart woman. Kept you both busy, gave you a great sense of yourself, and probably entertained herself as well.”
“Probably. What now?”
“Now we head down to the bar. Jovana and I eat there most days. One of the perks of working with the owner.”
“I’m not sure how you lucked into finding Jovana, or how she lucked into finding you, but you guys are great together.”
AJ burst out laughing.
“What?” I’ll admit my feelings were a little hurt.
“She said almost exactly the same thing about you and me.”
I brightened immediately, “Well, see, she is a smart woman.”
We headed off to the bar, AJ with his hand on the small of my back. I was jazzed. I wanted those girls to see that he is taken. Is that wrong? Does that make me insecure? I can live with it, even if it does.
The rest of the day was uneventful, just the way I like it. I helped AJ tear down the set, and put up another one for the next day. Originally, the plan was to do multiple calendar months for the bar in a couple of days, but Jovana decided she didn’t want that. The girls would all look exactly the same, just in different outfits and she wanted to give the impression that there were even more beautiful girls at the bar. She said the girls change their look about once a week, so they decided they would do a shoots every other week, and not in order.
The new set we were arranging in the studio was for a family shoot, to be shot tonight, after the guy got off work, and the kids had had their naps.
I reminded AJ that I had to be home to meet with my neighbor. I left before rush hour traffic started up, although, in Florida, rush hour really isn’t all that bad. I was in California not all that long ago, wanted to go seven miles, just seven miles, it was between two mountains, there was only the freeway, and it took me 45 minutes. I couldn’t live like that. It would drive me crazy.
I got home in plenty of time to cook dinner. I tried to decide what an ex-Army kind of guy would want to eat. He is, after all, doing me a huge favor. I decided hearty would be good.
I ran to the kitchen and pulled out some beef, thank God it wasn’t frozen. Pulled out a trusty Ziploc bag, put in some Wondra, pepper, seasoned salt, beef bouillon and shook it up to blend.
I cut the beef up into reasonable sized chunks, making sure there wasn’t too much fat on any one piece, and got out my huge stockpot. I’ve never actually used the thing to make stock, I use it for most other things, but that is what the tag on the pot said, so that is what I call it.
I put a whole cube of oleo in the pot, let it warm up, threw the fat that I’d cut off the meat in there, just to give the butter some flavor. Cooked that for a little while, while I put the beef chunks in the bag and shmooshed it all around until each chunk was fully coated.
I pulled the fat out of the oleo, put the beef in the pot, one piece at a time, so the oleo would stay hot. When I got all the beef in there, I stirred it around, making sure to brown all the different sides, and added the mixture from the bag so that it sopped up every trace of oleo.
I put the kettle to boil, by the time it was whistling at me, all the meat was browned, I added water to the pot, to cover all the meat, made sure the burner was set so that the whole thing wouldn’t boil over, and ran for the shower.
I did the quick shower thing, which only takes me about five minutes. I put on some yoga pants and a t-shirt and was back in the kitchen checking on the meat in no time.
I peeled some potatoes, pulled out some veggies, and got some rolls out and put them in a basket wrapped up in a napkin. That is one good thing about Florida, the rolls aren’t likely to dry out any time soon, you can get everything set long before your guests arrive.
I set the table, using my favorite black tablecloth, my black and white Corelle, the square
ones, and my square glasses. Those were not easy to find, let me tell ya.
I had some time, so I tried to get my brain around just what I should tell my neighbor. Tell him too much, he’ll think I’m crazy. Don’t tell him enough, he’ll think I’m crazy. I see a theme here.
At exactly the appointed time, as my mother would say, my neighbor knocked on the door. He was carrying a beautiful silver wine bucket. I panicked for just a second since I don’t drink wine and I didn’t have any wine glasses handy.
I don’t like the taste of any that I’ve tried. Most importantly, I didn’t want to offend him, when he was doing me the favor.
I barely got a look at it as he walked through to the kitchen.
“Everything smells great. What are we having?”
“Faux stew.”
“What is faux stew?”
“Well, I don’t like veggies. So I cook the meat like it’s stew, then I prepare the veggies on the side, and serve it all family style, and you can concoct your own stew, with as many or as few veggies as you want.”
“That’s different.”
“Yeah, my mom doesn’t approve either, but you do what you have to do in this world, and I’ll do just about anything to avoid veggies.”
“You don’t eat any of them?”
“I’m what some might call a picky eater. I’ve never even had a hamburger.”
“You’re kidding. Don’t join the military.”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Or go to jail.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears.”
“So, let’s talk.”
“How about I serve the food, you get the drink, and we’ll eat and talk at the same time.”
“I brought you the finest vintage I could find.”
With that, he pulled out a two liter Pepsi. I could have kissed him. Not an AJ kind of kiss but definitely a Liam kind of kiss.
He smiled.
“What kind of super sleuth would I be if I didn’t know something that basic about you Cara?”
“Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Need any help getting all this on the table.”
Iced Tea Page 16