Model Boyfriend by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  Nick nodded, deciding to trust the photographer, for now, at least.

  Then he was introduced to three more women: the author’s agent, the makeup artist, and another woman named Janice, but he never did find out what her role was in all of the chaos.

  There were a lot of people crowded in that hotel room.

  As the noise level rose, Golden calmly continued to discuss the plans for the shoot.

  Nick liked him immediately: he was easy to talk to and straight to the point. And somehow, he managed to tune out the women behind him who seemed to be enjoying the party.

  For now, most of the attention was on Shelly as she was poured into a leather skirt and bustier, and given a waist-length wig that looked about as natural as horns on a camel.

  Golden remained impassive as the volume increased behind him, but the stiffness in his body gave him away.

  Nick was relieved to have an ally to help him endure this.

  Elaine walked over, a large makeup bag in her hands.

  “Nick, can I get you a drink or some water? I need to work on your tattoo, and it could take a while.”

  “Just water, thanks.”

  She handed him a bottle and pointed to a desk chair.

  “If you could take off your t-shirt and lean forward…”

  Nick whipped his t-shirt over his head, but looked up, startled, when the other women shrieked with approval.

  “They’re a little excited,” Elaine explained breezily. “It’s going to be an awesome shoot.”

  “Okay…”

  Nick leaned forward while Elaine studied the existing ink on his back.

  “Hey, Meagan, can I borrow you a moment?”

  The author glanced up, slightly pink in the face, either from the champagne or from all the naked man-flesh in front of her. Probably both.

  “Sure!”

  “Okay, so I can match the new tat to this style, which would probably look more realistic, or go for the death metal typography that you had in mind.”

  Death metal?

  “Oh, wow, okay. I don’t know. What do you think, Isabel?”

  The agent strode over confidently.

  “Yeah, go with Elaine’s idea. I love that.” And she leaned on Nick, patting his shoulder. “That okay with you?”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “Okay, cool!”

  Elaine dabbed some liquid on his back, wiping a piece of cotton wool over his skin. Then he felt the soft sweep of a paintbrush as she worked on the fake tattoo.

  After fifteen minutes, Elaine was finished, and the harem gathered around, cooing over the work.

  Then the makeup artist who doubled as a hair stylist slicked some gel in Nick’s hair, tied it into a short ponytail, sponged foundation onto his cheeks and nose, then brushed some powder over the top.

  Golden unfolded his arms and gave Nick a brief smile that seemed to say, Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, then he switched on the two portable lights he’d set up.

  “I’ll start with a couple of close-ups of your ink and the fake tattoo, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Nick followed Golden’s direction, pleased to find that he understood more quickly now what sort of poses a photographer wanted from him, how to move his body and tense his muscles for the most defined look.

  Then Shelly was brought into the frame, and Nick had to gaze in her eyes.

  “Nick, you’re looking kinda angry, buddy,” Golden advised. “Imagine that she’s your woman.”

  Nick closed his eyes for a second and thought of Anna. Then he looked down at Shelly, trailing a finger down her cheek.

  The women screeched again, which put Nick off, but he tried to keep Anna’s face in the front of his mind. He imagined the look on her face when he kissed her, when he touched her … he had to shake the thought away.

  Then he was asked to pick Shelly up and push her against the wall as if they were having sex. She was much lighter than Anna, and she almost flew backwards, thudding slightly against the thin plasterboard.

  “Sorry,” Nick murmured, but Shelly just nodded, surprised and breathless.

  Behind them, the chorus oohed and aahed loudly.

  They worked for several minutes before Golden stood upright and stretched, then turned to the author who was nominally in charge of the shoot.

  The women squealed, although Nick wasn’t sure what that was about—Golden exchanged a tired look with him. It was the strangest photoshoot Nick had ever been on—not that he’d been on many, but still…

  Golden shrugged and then he went back to checking the light meter on his camera.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! We should totally do the leather jacket!” shouted one of the women.

  She might have been the editor or the publisher, maybe the agent, Nick wasn’t sure anymore. She hadn’t been looking at his face when they met; instead her eyes were crawling all over his body. Just because he was starting to get used to it, didn’t mean he liked it.

  “I’m going to be sweating in a leather jacket,” Nick pointed out mildly. “And that’ll smudge the fake tattoo.”

  “Yeah, but we totally need that shot. If we’re quick…”

  Nick nodded and did as he was asked, carefully sliding the leather jacket over his broad shoulders.

  Golden took some more photographs with Nick staring intensely into the camera lens, then they referred back to the author.

  “Okay, Meagan, so what’s the story? What are we saying in this scene? Do you want to have Nick on the bed?”

  Probably the wrong thing to say.

  The women went into a huddle, glancing over their shoulders at Nick and giggling. God, that was annoying. Then the publisher spoke to Golden.

  “Can you ask him to take his pants off?”

  Golden glanced at Nick, his eyebrows raised.

  “You okay with that, Nick?”

  “Sure.”

  Nick kicked off his boots and slid his jeans over his hips, ignoring the excitement from his audience.

  “Oh my God, look at his butt!”

  “Cutest bubble butt ever!”

  Nick felt like reminding them that he was a person, not just a piece of meat, but decided the quicker it was over, the better.

  Then he lay on the bed, his heated gaze turning up the temperature in the room as Golden caught every expressive movement of his face and body.

  When Shelly joined him, wearing just a bra and panties, laying on top of him, their legs twined, Nick tried to keep his mind on Anna. But that felt wrong, too.

  When he had to pin Shelly underneath him and pretend to kiss her, he winced internally. This wasn’t fair to Anna. It wasn’t even fair to himself.

  Finally, the shoot was done and Golden turned off the bright lights. His face was smooth but Nick saw the relief in his eyes that this job was finally finished.

  “Want to go get a beer?” he muttered to Nick.

  “Sounds good.”

  Nick dressed, shook hands with the author, got kissed by all of the other women, and a few minutes later, he and Golden wandered down to the hotel’s bar.

  “That was … different,” said Nick with considerable understatement.

  Golden sighed and rubbed his temples.

  “I’m used to working by myself—that was…”

  He didn’t have the words, but Nick nodded anyway.

  “It’s not always like that,” Golden said at last. “Well, I’ve never known it like that before. It’s usually really professional. I hope you didn’t feel too uncomfortable?”

  Nick took a long drink of beer and rested the cold glass against his forehead. The truth was he’d already decided no more couples’ shoots. It felt disrespectful to Anna, to what their relationship meant to him. He didn’t want to look like he was screwing other women, even if was just make-believe.

  “Nah, I was just glad you were there, mate. Safety in numbers.”

  Golden laughed.

  “You called that one right, buddy! So, what
do you think of the world of modelling for romance novels?”

  “Harder than I was expecting, and a lot more waiting around. How long have you been a photographer?”

  Golden smiled, his eyes crinkling with pleasure.

  “Since I was a kid, I guess. I’ve always enjoyed taking pictures. I prefer shooting out on location. I get to see some magnificent places. It’s hard to explain, but even if it’s just an alleyway, there’s a vibe that you pick up on, and the model can play off, for us to get the shot. Locations make wonderful backgrounds and textures.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Although studio shoots do have more control over light.”

  Nick remembered that from his experience with Massimo.

  “Do you think you’ll stay in the modelling business?” Golden asked.

  “Maybe. I’ll definitely give it a go while I’m here, but long term…”

  “I think you could do really well,” Golden said thoughtfully. “Confidence is important—one of the most important things, in my opinion. And I don’t mean ego or douchiness,” and he laughed. “I think that confidence leads the rest—your looks, your form, and so on—to create great shots. Physically, models that are fitter tend to do well in the romance industry. You know, with the target demographic and ‘fantasy’ element.” He shrugged, “But too shredded and you cross into bodybuilding territory which is a more difficult sell, although appealing in its own right—or not, depending on how many veins you like to see.” He raised an eyebrows. “But overall though, all elements should work in unison, and confidence should shine through in the final shot.” He gave Nick a long look. “I know you only started doing this recently; I was surprised how quickly you were able to get into poses and routines. And that gorgeous face helps!”

  Nick laughed a little uncomfortably. He still wasn’t used to his looks being more important than how good his game-play had been on any given day.

  “What sort of camera do you use?” Nick asked, wanting to change the subject, but also to understand and learn.

  “I use a Nikon D800, typically with an f2.8 24-70mm lens.”

  Nick leaned forward, his interest piqued.

  “And that works well indoors and out?”

  For a while, they talked technique, lighting, lenses, and the golden hour that was the favourite time of day for photographers to shoot.

  And then Nick asked the question that he’d been wondering about all day.

  “Tell me how you got into the romance book business?”

  Golden gave him a slow, sly smile.

  “Now that is a very interesting story. But we’re going to need more beer…”

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS? She looks like a kid.”

  Nick hadn’t been at all keen to do another couples shoot after his experience with Shelly—he had nothing against her—but getting in intimate positions with another woman, even when there seven other people in the room, felt like cheating on Anna, and he was not okay with that.

  Adrienne had talked him into it, saying that this was going to be a big shoot, an important client, and that he’d be a fool to turn it down. She’d gone on to point out that there were a hundred other guys who’d jump at the chance, and on and on.

  In the end, he’d agreed to do it provided there was no nudity on either side.

  He thought he knew what he was letting himself in for…

  But this girl?

  Nick was appalled. He was supposed to do a sexy photoshoot with a child?

  The client liaison manager threw him an impatient look.

  “Are you saying you don’t recognize her? Cee Cee Eloy the next supermodel, buddy. She’s been on more covers this year than Gigi Hadid. She’s doing you a favour by shooting with an unknown.”

  Nick ignored the dig.

  “How old is she?” Nick persisted.

  “Fifteen.”

  The girl strutted over, careful makeup accentuating her porcelain skin and wide, doll-like eyes. She yawned.

  “I’m 13. I had to suck a lot of dicks to get where I am.”

  Nick’s mouth dropped open. She’s joking. Dear God, I hope she’s joking. But maybe she wasn’t.

  He hadn’t seen anyone quite as young as her at the party Orion had dragged him to, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Nick wasn’t naïve—it just wasn’t something he liked to think about.

  He’d been warned that the industry was tough, that it idolized youth, that it preyed on innocence. Seeing it … seeing her in the flesh was slightly horrifying.

  “Where are your parents?”

  The girl rolled her eyes and yawned again.

  “I’m legally emancipated.”

  “Look, buddy…” the liaison guy began.

  “My name’s Nick.”

  “Whatever, Nick! Look, you were booked for the shoot—you walk out now, you’ll have cost the client thousands. Cee Cee gets $10K an hour, you hear me? Whatever you’re earning on this little number, she’s getting twenty times more. She calls the shots. You and me, we just work here. You walk, the perfume company will sue your ass for the cost of today, for the delay, their legal fees, loss of potential earnings from the ad, the sponsors, the magazine the shoot is booked with. And that’s just to start. You’ll be finished in this town, buddy. You want that?”

  Nick’s nostrils flared.

  “But she’s a child! And I’m supposed to…

  “…seduce her. Yeah, we know. You’re the serpent in the Garden of Eden; she’s Eve, represents innocence, yadda yadda yadda. It’s a big campaign. So get on set, do your job, and stop fucking this up for everyone else.”

  Nick ignored the man and stomped off to the room where he’d left his clothes.

  He called the one person who’d understand. And it wasn’t his agent.

  The phone rang and rang.

  “Come on, answer!” Nick growled at the piece of plastic in his hand.

  Just when he thought it would go to messages, he heard Anna’s breathless voice.

  “Nick! I thought you were doing a photoshoot this morning. Sorry, I was just running in the door.”

  “I’m at the studio now.”

  She must have heard the anxiety in his voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He cleared his throat, uneasy with what he had to tell her.

  “You know I said it’s a couples shoot, based on the story of Adam and Eve?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I’m supposed to be the serpent in the garden of Eden, trying to get the girl to eat the apple, or I’m pure evil or something, and the girl model is, well, Eve? Love and innocence? Right?”

  “I think you’ll find that Eve wasn’t completely innocent … but carry on.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s the girl they’ve booked…”

  “You don’t like her?”

  “It’s not that. I don’t even know her, but … she’s a girl!”

  There was a long pause.

  “You’ve lost me, Nick.”

  He sighed and started to run his fingers through his hair before he remembered that it had taken the stylist half an hour to make it look the way it did, the curls glistening as if wet.

  “I’m supposed to seduce her. You know, make it look like I’m seducing her!”

  “Oh. I … I don’t know what to say. If that’s the job you signed up for…”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t realize it would be so … so … Christ, I don’t even know what it’ll be. It’s this girl! She’s thirteen! I’ll feel like a flippin’ paedo!”

  He heard Anna’s intake of breath.

  “So young…”

  “Yeah! They say she’s really well known in the model world … Cee Cee, something.”

  Anna gasped.

  “Wait! Not Cee Cee Eloy?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Do you know her?”

  Anna gave a pained laugh.

  “Yes, she’s pretty well known, but I didn’t think she was that young. Mind you, Kate Moss was discovered when she was 14…”


  Nick sat down heavily.

  “I don’t know what to do. They say if I walk off this set, I’ll be finished. No one will book me again and I’ll probably get my arse sued.”

  Anna’s voice was stronger when she spoke again.

  “You have the right to feel comfortable on set, Nick. So far, the only thing they’ve asked you to do is work with this girl. They haven’t asked you to do anything inappropriate. Yet…”

  “Fuckin’ hell, Anna! The whole thing is inappropriate! She’s thirteen!”

  “I know,” she sighed. “All I can advise is to go with your gut instinct. If you need to leave, then that’s fine. I’ll support you, whatever you decide.”

  “Thanks, luv.”

  Anna’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “So, what are you wearing to seduce Eve?”

  Nick laughed out loud.

  “Not a lot.”

  “Oh, do tell!”

  “A jockstrap that looks like a sock, and a dressing gown.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke.

  “Sounds sexy.”

  “It really isn’t. It’s a flesh-coloured sock and it’s bloody uncomfortable.”

  “How can a sock be uncomfortable? You know what, never mind!” She sighed. “It’s good to hear you laughing.”

  “Sorry I’ve been a miserable sod. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Oh, well … but you don’t have to make anything up to me,” she paused, and her voice dropped half an octave. “Actually, yeah, let’s say you owe me—sounds fun!”

  Nick smiled as he imagined all the ways he could ‘owe’ Anna, but then settled into a scowl as one of the runners knocked on the door and tapped her wristwatch.

  “Gotta go,” he sighed.

  “Okay, call me later. Let me know if I need to start selling the house to pay lawyers’ fees.”

  “Haha, will do.”

  “You know, I can’t imagine a big perfume campaign would want to do anything that would reflect negatively on them. But seriously, Nick. Only do what you’re comfortable with. We both know that photographs are around forever in the media. They’ll always be there.”

  Only slightly reassured by her words, Nick went back to the set. It was several degrees warmer than the changing room with the studio lights already turned on.

  Cee Cee glanced up from her phone as Nick sat on the next chair but one, leaving a space between them.

 
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