Picture Perfect

by Maguire, L. E.

  As he pulled away, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that took me by surprise. It did not go unnoticed either that the man smelled fantastic. It was a spicy scent like that of exotic incense mixed in with his manly scent. It was simply mouth-watering.

  He sat back on the barstool, continuing to stare into my eyes. A small, shy smile was on his beautiful face. I was thankful to be sitting because I would have totally swooned at that smile. Heat flooded my core as I clenched my thighs together. My breathing picked up as my heart pounded wildly in my chest. Then I spotted the three women who had approached him earlier over his shoulder. They were hovering at the end of the bar, trying to decide if they should approach him again or not. Seeing them easily broke whatever spell he had cast over me. Angry with myself for feeling anything for him, I silently cursed my traitor body for reacting to him in such a way.

  “You almost had me there for a minute, pretty boy,” I said, smirking. The smile slid off his face and his eyes hardened at my tone. “I think you need to go concentrate on your sweethearts over there before your time runs out and you have to get them home before curfew. Are they even old enough to drink? Wait. Forget that. I really don’t care,” I said, waving my hand at him dismissively.

  He quickly recovered by chuckling and smirking at me. ”If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re jealous.”

  I tilted my head back and laughed. “Jealous? Of them? With you? Don’t think so, pretty boy. I’ve already had your type. It’s not something I want to experience again.”

  He glared at me as his lips pressed into a thin line. “My type, huh? One look at me and you think you know me? What exactly is my type?”

  “The cheating bastard type. Pretty playboy living off mommy and daddy who’s too arrogant to see anything past himself,” I quickly muttered.

  His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but he quickly smoothed out his features. “Ouch. Kitty’s got her claws out and likes to use them. So, tell me, kitten, who hurt you? Somebody obviously did a number on you.”

  I turned in the stool so I could face him completely. “And why would you think that? You think you know me now?”

  “Oh yeah. I know your type real well. You’re a loyal, one man kind of woman. I’m betting you had a real serious relationship with someone up until you caught him with your best friend. In your bed.”

  Well, no, it hadn’t happened exactly like that, but he was close. Too close. I tried to keep a straight face not wanting to let him know just how close to the mark he was with that assessment. Just as I was about to open my mouth, Jake’s big, warm hands clamped down on my shoulders. “Is this guy bothering you, Em?”

  Before I could answer, Mr. Perfection spoke. “What are you her personal bodyguard?” he asked, looking amused.

  Jake’s hands tightened on my shoulders. ”Something like that, yeah,” he growled.

  Mr. Perfection focused on me. “You want to tell your guard dog to back down?”

  Jake leaned over to get into his face. “Watch it. You’ve had your eye on her since we arrived. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed,” Jake said.

  My tummy fluttered for a moment at the idea of this gorgeous man watching me, but Jake began vibrating with anger. I had to end this before it got out of hand.

  Getting out from under Jake’s death grip, I jumped off the stool. Jake looked like he was getting ready to permanently make Mr. Perfection part of the bar. Turning towards Jake, I grabbed his straining biceps in my hands and squeezed until he focused on me. “Let’s go,” I urged him.

  As we started walking away, Mr. Perfection hollered from behind us. “Yeah, be a good little guard dog and listen to your master.”

  Turning around quickly, I got up into his face. I was momentarily stunned by that erotic spicy smell of his as I once again inhaled the scent into me deeply. Suddenly, Jake was squeezing my upper arms as if he were getting ready to lift me out of the way, which snapped me out of my little sexy-man-scent induced haze. “Do you have a death wish?” I asked through clenched teeth, poking my finger into his hard chest.

  He stared into my eyes for several seconds. There was a sadness swimming in their green depths, but he quickly buried it. “Maybe, but if I died tonight, knowing that a beautiful woman like you actually exists in the world, I’ll die a happy man,” he said softly.

  What? This guy was all over the place. He was cocky and arrogant and annoying one minute, and then he said the sweetest thing the next. This charm of his was completely disarming. Then I spotted the three blondes moving towards us with concerned looks on their faces. He might be charming on occasion but he was still a man whore.

  “Let’s go, Em” Jake pulled on my arm and I willingly went.

  Right before we faded into the crowd, I threw one last look over my shoulder. I watched as Mr. Perfection wrapped his arms around the blondes and headed in the opposite direction, acting as if our whole exchange had never happened. And just like that. I was forgotten before I was even out of sight.

  I woke the next morning feeling a little under the weather. My mouth was as dry as a desert from drinking those shots of tequila. The sun shining in my window was piercing my eyes through the slits that they were, causing my head to pound in time with my heartbeat. Groaning, I rolled over away from the direct light of the window, feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Burying deeper under the covers, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my head to stop hurting. Just as I started to drift off again, my bedroom door swung open.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Jake said cheerfully.

  I replied with a groan, gripping the covers tightly over my head. At any moment, Jake was going to rip the blankets off and haul me out of bed. I knew this because he has done it before. I waited and waited but nothing ever happened. Peeling the covers down so I could peek my head out, I saw Jake standing in the doorway with his thick arms crossed over his broad chest and a smirk on his face.

  Without warning, he launched himself onto my king-sized bed, jostling me around like a little kid in one of those inflatable houses. During mid-bounce, he grabbed me and hauled me out of bed, carrying me towards the kitchen.

  “It’s time to get up. It’s going to be a fantastic day,” he said joyfully, beaming down at me.

  “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my best friend?” I grumbled.

  Setting me down on the island in the kitchen, he walked over to one of the cabinets. Grabbing the Tylenol, he shook two tablets out and then headed to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

  “Here,” he said, handing me the two tablets while he opened the bottle of water for me.

  “Thank you,” I said gratefully, popping the pills in my mouth and quickly washing them down. Taking deep pulls from the bottle of cool water, I nearly drained it before I pulled my mouth away to take a deep breath.

  Jake made his way back to the fridge to grab the orange juice and something else. I glanced over at the clock on the microwave and gasped.

  “Jake! What the hell? It’s only seven in the morning? What the fuck are you doing up acting all bright and cheerful so early for?”

  He turned with a smirk on his face, holding out a flute filled with orange juice and champagne. I scrunched my face at the glass. “Hair of the dog,” he simply said. When I went to reach for it though, he pulled it back slightly. “Ah, wait. I got a phone call early this morning. Seems we have something to celebrate,” he said, cocking a brow at me.

  “And what would that be?” I asked curiously, taking the glass from his hand.

  He turned to grab another flute for himself off the counter. “It would seem I’m looking at a photographer who’s going to have a spread in next months Top Style Magazine. I thought that news warranted mimosas this morning,” he said calmly, casually.

  My eyes grew wide as my mouth hit the floor. I could feel myself starting to shake as my heart started pounding wildly in my chest. This was huge! Top Style Magazine was distributed internationally. “Jake, how? How did they hear about me?
I mean….why me? This is huge.”

  Clinking glasses with me, he tipped his flute back, draining his mimosa in two gulps. I started shaking a little harder. Was I ready for something like this? Could I handle it? “Whoa,” he said, rescuing the glass from my violently shaking hand.

  Grabbing my face in his big hands, he bent down so his face was level with mine. “Breathe, Em. I know what you’re thinking and you are ready for this. You can handle it.” I started to take deep, slow breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. “That a girl.”

  “How did they hear about me, Jake?” I asked softly.

  “Patricia Hugh from the gallery. Seems there was a shoot scheduled for today but the photographer that was supposed to do it had their flight canceled due to weather. Someone at the magazine is friends with Patricia and contacted her. She recommended you.” He smiled widely at me.

  “Wait a minute. Did you say today? The shoot is scheduled for today?” I asked, feeling the panic within me rising again.

  “You caught that, huh?” Jake said sheepishly. “Don’t worry, Em. It’s for Ralph Mahoney and his new fall collection of men’s suits. It’s going to be on the balcony of a penthouse in one the buildings downtown so we don’t have far to go. It’s a beautiful sunny day so lighting shouldn’t be an issue. You’ve got this, Em,” he said, sounding totally confident.

  “I’m going to need that mimosa now,” I whispered. Chuckling, he released my face so he could turn and retrieve the flute.

  After downing it in just a few gulps, I jumped off the island to head to my room to get ready. As the orange juice and alcohol started flowing through me, my confidence started to grow. I’ve so got this.

  ***

  Jake and I managed to arrive a half hour early, which gave me plenty of time to fire off some test shots so I could adjust my camera settings appropriately. There was only one downfall to taking photos outside; the light is forever changing. Good thing I was always up for a challenge. And thanks to the mimosa Jake gave me earlier, clearing my head of all the tequila from the night before, I was able to concentrate. This job was important for the both of us.

  The place was a flurry of activity. This was the first real professional photo shoot I was a part of and the amount of people needed on hand was staggering. A few art directors, marketing directors, and producers were scurrying around making sure everything was in place on the balcony. They made sure the area was clean, the curtain hung on the sliding glass door just right, and dressed up the balcony with perfect, potted plants and benches.

  Inside, stylists, hairdressers, and makeup artists were primping the models to perfection. I almost felt like I was on a movie set. It was rather impressive.

  We were just getting ready to start when the first three male models, who all looked dangerously handsome decked out in their designer suits, came strolling out onto the balcony. As soon as I saw that arrogant jerk from the bar, I gasped and spun around. He’s a model? Of course he is. The arrogant asshole with the devastating dimples and the women hanging all over him is a model. I’m sure he has a different girl in every city too. I frowned, feeling the anger rise within me. Probably hooks up with every female photographer too.

  I turned back around and got a good look at him. My knees went weak, threatening to drop me on the spot. He was dressed in a bright white, three-piece suit with a baby green button-down shirt that really made his emerald eyes sparkle. His dark hair stood out in contrast to all the white, which also made his skin look like it had a golden tan. Devastatingly. Handsome.

  When his eyes locked with mine, a smile spread across his face, causing those damn dimples to pop out. I didn’t know if I wanted to hit them or kiss them. Wait….kiss them? What the hell was wrong with me?

  Spinning back around, I looked everywhere for Jake, but he was nowhere in sight. Listening to the footsteps approaching from behind me, my body tingled and tensed in response. I could feel his eyes on me, running up and down my body, softly caressing me as if his actual hands were on me. His erotic spicy scent filled my nose. Gripping my camera tighter than was necessary, I turned around to face him.

  Sticking his hands in his trouser pockets, he flashed me a half smile. “So, you’re a photographer.” It was a statement not a question.

  “So, you’re a model,” I said tartly, making the word model sound like a curse word.

  The half smile disappeared as his lips mashed into a thin line. Bending down to get level with my hands, which were still clutching my camera to my chest, he started examining my hands.

  I recoiled from his intense gaze as he invaded my personal space. “What the hell are you doing?” I snapped.

  “Just checking to see if you’ve got your claws out today, kitten. I wouldn’t want to get scratched,” he said smugly, straightening up to his full height. As he towered over me, I tried to not let him intimidate me.

  “Well, I’ll try to keep them retracted then. But just in case, you might want to steer clear. We wouldn’t want to damage that million dollar face now, would we, pretty boy?” I pursed my lips at him.

  Standing before me, I watched as he opened his mouth to respond only to close it again. Pulling one hand out of his pocket, he started to caress his chin as he narrowed his eyes at me, seemingly lost in thought. My eyes focused on his hand. Geez, he had huge manly hands with long, strong fingers. I hadn’t noticed that at the bar last night. Suddenly, I began to wonder exactly how good those hands would feel on me. I had to mentally slap myself to snap out of it. A knowing smile spread across his face revealing those dimples. Again. I’m so screwed.

  “You think I’ve got a million dollar face? Huh, kitten? I knew you liked what you saw at the bar,” he said, sounding confident and arrogant. When he topped it all off with a wink, my irritation with him started to rise to dangerous levels.

  “It doesn’t really matter what I think,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Sure it does. You’re the photographer. You’re the one-”

  “That’s right.” Jake’s voice rumbled from behind me. “She’s the photographer and right now you’re keeping her from doing her job. So fuck. Off,” Jake hissed.

  Mr. Perfection’s eyes slowly slid from my face up to Jake, who was standing directly behind me. I knew Jake was breathing heavily, because I could feel his hot breath fluttering my hair with every angry exhale. It was like I had a bull behind me just waiting for the signal to charge.

  For as intimidating as I knew Jake looked right now, Mr. Perfection did not show any kind of concern. Instead, he slowly straightened to his full towering height, raising both hands in a mock surrender.

  “Down boy,” he said to Jake before focusing back on me. I had to give it to the arrogant jerk. He definitely had a set of balls on him. “Make me look good, kitten,” he said softly, winking before he turned to walk away.

  I sagged against Jake. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “You okay, Em?” I nodded in response. “Good. Forget him. Let’s do this. You own it.”

  Giving him a sharp nod, I brought the camera into focus and took the first shot. Nothing calms me more then feeling the weight of the camera in my hand. Twisting the ring to bring the picture into focus and the click of the shutter button just soothes me every time. It’s what I know and I feel at home behind the lens.

  The rest of the day flew by as Jake and I fell into a routine. Mr. Perfection steered clear of me and Jake never left my side. As we started going through my shots before we wrapped it up, the producers and marketing directors seemed very pleased with my work. I chuckled when Jake’s chest swelled with pride like only a big brother’s could.

  Before I knew it, Jake had all of our equipment packed up and ready to go. He practically dragged me out of the place before the models had the chance to re-emerge from the dressing rooms. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to get me out of there before Mr. Perfection had the opportunity to talk to me again. Shit. I realized I still didn’t know his name, but being a model, I knew I was
bound to run into him again.

  Two weeks later, Jake and I are walking through the Hugh of Color gallery with the owner, Patricia Hugh. She’s a beautiful, statuesque woman. Her platinum blonde hair was in a perfect chignon. Her pale blue eyes regarded me shrewdly.

  “Ember. Jake. It’s so good to see you two again,” she pleasantly said. Her hand extended in a friendly and welcoming manner.

  I reached out to shake her hand firmly, giving her a small smile. “Thank you, Patricia. It’s good to see you again as well, and thank you so much for your referral to Top Style Magazine. I appreciate it and your confidence in my abilities.”

  “Oh, Ember, it’s my pleasure. When I heard they were in need of a photographer, I knew you were the girl for the job.”

  “Good afternoon, Patricia,” Jake said from behind me as I stepped out of his way so he could properly greet her. I noticed she clung to Jake’s hand a little longer than was necessary as she placed a hand on his back, guiding him further into the gallery. The dreamy look on her face was a typical reaction women usually had to Jake. Rolling my eyes, I followed in behind them.

  The gallery is a huge warehouse with red brick walls, hardwood floors, and a ceiling that has been painted black in an attempt to mask the exposed pipework. It is a huge open space that has white walls strategically placed so as many photos as possible can be hung in the gallery. It has a maze-like feel to it as you walk around.

  Today, the white walls were filled with beautifully framed pieces of my work. It was beyond weird to see my photos blown up and hanging on the walls in full display for all to see.

  Patricia was excited and talking animatedly about what we could expect tomorrow evening during the show. Trailing behind Patricia and Jake, I stared at each and every one of my photos. Their voices faded into the background as I suddenly noticed little flaws in each and every photo. There were landscapes taken at the wrong angle and some in the wrong light or spots that seemed out of focus. I could feel myself starting to panic. There was no way I could have these photos on display. My work was not good enough for something like this.