rapidly turning translucent, the
top of my bra showing through the thin fabric. If I just could make it out to
my car, I had a jacket I could slip on.
“Lani!”
Martin screamed.
I
crumpled the paper towel in my hand, and winced. Why did he have to need me
now? I crossed my arms and walked over, inwardly grimacing as I approached the
photographer and Mr. Mysterious. He was watching me, a hint of a smile playing
over his lips. I wanted to sink into the ground rather than meet that gaze with
coffee still trickling down my body, making a beeline for my underwear.
“Lani,
this is Gavin Fletcher. He’ll be overseeing the rest of the shoot. Stan said to
get him set up at the Hilton before you go home tonight, yes? And schedule us
at the pier tomorrow. The lighting in this studio is fucking killing me.”
Gavin
held out his hand, his eyes twinkling as he looked me over, his smirk growing
into a mischievous grin when he saw the wardrobe malfunction I was failing to
hide.
“It’s
a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Lani is a beautiful name.”
“Thank
you... It’s actually Aolani,” I mumbled.
I
took his hand, trying not to react to the way my hand tingled when it met his.
His skin was electric, and I couldn’t help but feel the charge in the air, like
something just passed between us. As his eyes dragged over the silk sticking to
my cleavage, I wondered what he was thinking. I was torn between wanting to
cover up again, and to keep holding his hand as long as he’d let me. I jerked
my hand back and smiled nervously.
“I’ll
make sure everything’s taken care of for you, Mr. Fletcher.”
“Thank
you, Aolani, but call me Gavin,” he said, his slight brogue making my heart
skip a beat. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
I
turned and walked toward the exit, hoping to change and make my phone calls
from the privacy of the parking lot. But as I turned in the doorway, I noticed
Gavin Fletcher was still looking at me, that hint of a smile playing across his
lips.
***
The
next day, I dressed with care, wearing my most flattering black skirt and wrap
blouse, and brushing my hair until it shone. I stood in front of the mirror,
chewing my lip, wondering why I was bothering. He was in charge of the shoot,
not my blind date. He was the boss, and I was the photographer’s assistant. It
was as simple as that.
But
as I remembered the way he’d looked at me, the way his eyes hugged the curves
of my body, sliding over them boldly, without a hint of embarrassment, made my
whole body tingle.
I
ran my hands over my face and grabbed my keys.
Put him out of your head, Aolani. With
the model there, he’s not even going to know you exist anyway .
I
sighed and hopped in the car, preparing myself for yet another day of blending
into the background.
***
When
I arrived at the docks, a breeze kicked up, whipping my hair into my face. I
pushed it back and shielded my eyes from the sunlight, squinting up at the
shining white yacht we’d be shooting on today. Silver lettering on the bow
spelled out The Fiona.
I
tucked my purse under my arm and climbed the ramp, hoping to God Martin would
be in a better mood today working out in the sun and fresh air. But when I
reached the deck, the sounds of high-pitched sobbing met my ears.
What has the bastard done now?
The
blonde model from yesterday, Sophie, was sitting cross legged on the wooden
deck, clutching a life preserver and weeping so hard she was shaking. Her
mascara ran down her face, and I wondered what on earth could have caused such
a melt down. I ran over to her and dropped down on my knees.
“What
happened, hon?” I put an arm around her shoulder.
She
looked up and sniffled loudly, trembling in her nautical blue bikini. Despite
the sun warming the deck, she seemed chilled to the bone.
“It’s
all wrong. The business man, whoever he is, says the shoot isn’t right, and I’m the problem.”
Tears
ran down her face again, and I
top of my bra showing through the thin fabric. If I just could make it out to
my car, I had a jacket I could slip on.
“Lani!”
Martin screamed.
I
crumpled the paper towel in my hand, and winced. Why did he have to need me
now? I crossed my arms and walked over, inwardly grimacing as I approached the
photographer and Mr. Mysterious. He was watching me, a hint of a smile playing
over his lips. I wanted to sink into the ground rather than meet that gaze with
coffee still trickling down my body, making a beeline for my underwear.
“Lani,
this is Gavin Fletcher. He’ll be overseeing the rest of the shoot. Stan said to
get him set up at the Hilton before you go home tonight, yes? And schedule us
at the pier tomorrow. The lighting in this studio is fucking killing me.”
Gavin
held out his hand, his eyes twinkling as he looked me over, his smirk growing
into a mischievous grin when he saw the wardrobe malfunction I was failing to
hide.
“It’s
a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Lani is a beautiful name.”
“Thank
you... It’s actually Aolani,” I mumbled.
I
took his hand, trying not to react to the way my hand tingled when it met his.
His skin was electric, and I couldn’t help but feel the charge in the air, like
something just passed between us. As his eyes dragged over the silk sticking to
my cleavage, I wondered what he was thinking. I was torn between wanting to
cover up again, and to keep holding his hand as long as he’d let me. I jerked
my hand back and smiled nervously.
“I’ll
make sure everything’s taken care of for you, Mr. Fletcher.”
“Thank
you, Aolani, but call me Gavin,” he said, his slight brogue making my heart
skip a beat. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
I
turned and walked toward the exit, hoping to change and make my phone calls
from the privacy of the parking lot. But as I turned in the doorway, I noticed
Gavin Fletcher was still looking at me, that hint of a smile playing across his
lips.
***
The
next day, I dressed with care, wearing my most flattering black skirt and wrap
blouse, and brushing my hair until it shone. I stood in front of the mirror,
chewing my lip, wondering why I was bothering. He was in charge of the shoot,
not my blind date. He was the boss, and I was the photographer’s assistant. It
was as simple as that.
But
as I remembered the way he’d looked at me, the way his eyes hugged the curves
of my body, sliding over them boldly, without a hint of embarrassment, made my
whole body tingle.
I
ran my hands over my face and grabbed my keys.
Put him out of your head, Aolani. With
the model there, he’s not even going to know you exist anyway .
I
sighed and hopped in the car, preparing myself for yet another day of blending
into the background.
***
When
I arrived at the docks, a breeze kicked up, whipping my hair into my face. I
pushed it back and shielded my eyes from the sunlight, squinting up at the
shining white yacht we’d be shooting on today. Silver lettering on the bow
spelled out The Fiona.
I
tucked my purse under my arm and climbed the ramp, hoping to God Martin would
be in a better mood today working out in the sun and fresh air. But when I
reached the deck, the sounds of high-pitched sobbing met my ears.
What has the bastard done now?
The
blonde model from yesterday, Sophie, was sitting cross legged on the wooden
deck, clutching a life preserver and weeping so hard she was shaking. Her
mascara ran down her face, and I wondered what on earth could have caused such
a melt down. I ran over to her and dropped down on my knees.
“What
happened, hon?” I put an arm around her shoulder.
She
looked up and sniffled loudly, trembling in her nautical blue bikini. Despite
the sun warming the deck, she seemed chilled to the bone.
“It’s
all wrong. The business man, whoever he is, says the shoot isn’t right, and I’m the problem.”
Tears
ran down her face again, and I
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