The Genius and the Muse by Elizabeth Hunter

Reed’s complete and utter disinterest.
    He was sitting at the kitchen table in their apartment in Williamsburg, examining a contact sheet from his latest job. He moved the loupe deliberately across the page, oblivious to his agent’s frustration.
    “Argh!” Lydia rolled her eyes and sat down on the plush green couch Sam had picked out six months before when they finally found a decent-sized apartment. “Sam, help me out here. Wouldn’t you like your boyfriend to work less hours?”
    The painter, who was working on sketches for a series featuring street performers, refused to look at her friend and agent across the room. She sat at a drafting table, her pencil adding quiet background noise to the open room.
    “Lydia, don’t even try to draw me into this one. This is between you and Reed. I’m staying the hell out of it,” she answered and continued sketching, turning a page in her book to capture the look of intense concentration on her lover’s face as he worked.
    They had been together for almost five years, but Sam continued to be fascinated by the subtle variations of expression that crossed Reed’s face, particularly when he was working. They were still each others’ preferred model for almost everything, though Sam conceded she had neither the patience nor the stature for the fashion work Reed had become known for.
    He had been working much longer hours, but as always, if it didn’t bother Reed, it didn’t bother Sam. They both trusted Lydia implicitly with the management of their careers, and they were as fiercely loyal to her as she was to them. The agent did occasionally try to use their influence over each other to her advantage, as she was trying to do at the moment.
    Usually, both Reed and Sam laughed it off. This time, however, the temperamental photographer looked at Lydia with irritation. “Lydia, give it a rest. Don’t you have something to do? We’re both trying to work here.”
    Lydia kicked her feet up on the small couch and settled in, tucking her long hair behind her ears and lifting an eyebrow.
    “I know you are, but I have a date later. Hanging out with you guys when you’re both working gets me revved up. It’s like vicarious foreplay.”
    Reed only shook his head. He did, however glance over at Sam, who met his eyes with a sexy wink. Just Reed’s eyes on her gave Sam a few ideas for how they might fill the time when they could finally kick Lydia out.
    Lydia shivered. “See? Just keep eye-fucking each other like that. It’s so damn sexy. Speaking of your swirling sexual chemistry, how about some pictures or canvases of the two of you together? That would be stunning. I could sell the hell out of something like that. Tastefully done, of course. Or not,” she mused. “I could sell either.”
    “No,” they said simultaneously from across the room.
    Lydia sighed. “I’ll ask again tomorrow…” She trailed off before piping up in a more cheerful voice. “Hey, Vanessa’s going to be in town next month for her show.”
    Sam smiled. “We haven’t seen her in… How long has it been? Reed, do you remember?”
    He looked up and furrowed his dark eyebrows in concentration. “Has she been here since we moved into this place?”
    “I don’t think so. I think we were still crashing with Lydia when she visited last time.”
    “Well, shit, it’s been almost six months then,” he said before returning to work.
    “Hey, Reed?” Lydia called his name in a slightly sing-song voice.
    “Yes, Satan?”
    Sam snorted from across the room.
    “Will you do Vanessa’s pictures for her show? Pretty please? You have the time right now. I know your schedule.” Lydia grinned slyly.
    “Hmm. Imagine that. I do have time right now. How did you know?” He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ll do pictures for Vanessa. She’s great in front of the camera. Does she need shots of her work too, or just publicity portraits?”
    “Both. Dee has some pictures for me from the stuff she’s seen, but