Picture Perfect (Book 2 of the Billionaire Bad Boys)

3

She had to call in sick, it was something she had never done before, but it was well worth it for the chance to work personally with a legend like Lance Sanchez. She had left the loft at quarter to so not to be late. The ride up on the elevator was so exciting; she could hardly contain herself.

When she reached his loft, Lance was busy setting up his studio umbrella lights and white backdrop. He was going to shoot her she realized. He glanced at his wristwatch and smiled. “Early, I like that, shows initiative.” He frowned as he looked over the average jeans and t-shirt combination she was wearing. “Is this the best you got?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Cassia asked looking down at her clothes.

“Well for one, you’re wearing sneakers.” He pointed out. Lance went to a closet and opened the door. Inside were shelves of shoe boxes. “What size are you?”

“A six.” She said watching him take out a fabulous pair of four-inch black stilettos.

“Put these on and then walk from one end of the room, pose, and then back. I want to judge your runway walk.” He insisted handing her the shoes and taking a seat at the island that separated the postmodern kitchen from the rest of the loft.

Cassia sat down on the couch and removed her runners. Taking off her socks, she pulled on the shoes; they looked so good. Standing up, Cassia kicked her shoes out of the way, took a deep breath and began to walk with what she hoped was confidence. She reached the wall, turned, posed, and walked back.

“You a farm girl?” He asked dryly.

Good guess. “Yes.”

“I can tell. You walk like you’re herding sheep.” His words stung. He was rude but brilliant so she would hold her tongue. “Prepare for itemized criticism. First, you sway your hips too much it looks forced. Second, you’ve got this bobbing thing going on that screams hoochie. Third, you should carry a prep kit with you everywhere you go so you can always be ready. If you go to four go-sees in one day, you want to have something that can accommodate whatever it may be, athletic, bombshell, and so no. Fourth, always have heels with you even if you’re not wearing them.”

Lance got up and checked the lights and set. “Will you be shooting me?”

“Yes, take off your clothes.” He said without feeling.

“Why?”

“Because I told you to.” He snipped annoyed. “I thought we had a no questions agreement. If you’re going to waste my time we can stop right now.”

“What will I be modelling?”

Lance walked over to his light table and picked up a small blue velvet box. Coming to her, he opened the small box to reveal the most exquisite blue sapphire and diamonds ring. She had never seen anything like it. “It’s beautiful.” She sighed.

“It’s twenty-five-thousand dollars.” He said taking it from the box. Lance took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. “You’ll be modelling it. Now take off your clothes, there is a robe right over there.”

“Do I have to be naked?”

“Yes.” He said with a sly smirk. “You realize that if you work runways, you will have to strip and change out in the open around everyone backstage. If you’re not comfortable enough with your body to do this, you will never make it.”

“But-”

“Trust my vision.” He stressed. “I’m not a pornographer; it will be tasteful.” He promised.

Unsure of herself Cassia walked over to a changing screen and removed her clothes, everything but the ring. She took the white silk robe hanging on the coat rack and pulled it on. Tying the robe shut she came back to Lance who took her by the arm and led her onto the backdrop.

“So here is the trick.” He said going back to his camera. “You have to draw the attention to the ring, not you. You have to make me look at your picture and make me want the ring.” He said picking up the camera. “Take off the robe.”

With a deep breath, Cassia sat down and removed the robe bringing up her knees to hide her body from sight. Her arms crossed over her breasts. She tilted her head back and watched Lance as he began snapping shots and moving around for different angles. She moved slowly trying for new positions while still keeping her dignity and humility.

Lance talked her through it telling her she was doing well or that she needed to look one way or another. “Head back.” He said taking another shot. Lance lowered the camera and walked right up to her. His fingers captured her chin and tilted it up. “You have a beautiful long neck, that’s an asset, show it off.” He said stepping back and lifting his camera. He shot a few more pictures and then stood up straight. “I think we got it.” He said turning his back to her and placing his camera on the table.

Cassia used this moment to grab the robe and put it on. She tied it up and came to the table. Lance picked up the box and took the ring from her. “You always have things like this just laying around?”

“It’s was my Grandmother’s. She died recently I got the ring in the will.”

Cassia felt the sadness he was trying to hide. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be she was old.”

“What are you going to do with it?” She asked, curious as to what a man like him would do with a feminine ring. She saw his jaw clench and twitch with what looked like annoyance.

“Nothing.” He said snapping the box shut and putting it away in a drawer. Didn’t he have a girlfriend? She was sure she read it somewhere that he was dating some model. She wondered if he would give it to her.

“Why not give it to your girlfriend?” She suggested only to see rage flash in his blue eyes. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said a thing.

“My personal life is none of your business.” He said coldly.

An awkward silence filled the room. He was in a foul mood, and she was starting to wonder if he was ever in a good one. This man was not as she suspected. He was almost mean. There was nothing worse than a mean man with a sense of entitlement on a power trip.

“How long until I can see the photos?” She asked changing the subject.

“The end of the day. I need to process the film.” He said winding the camera, opening the back, and taking out the role. She was surprised that he didn’t use a digital camera as so many people did. He was seriously old school with his work. “If you stick around you should practice walking. Back and forth and don’t forget what I told you.”

“Yes sensei.” She teased drawing a less than impressed look from Lance. The man had no sense of humour.

“Walk.” Was all he said.

***

To start, Lance put the film and some water in the tank and let it sit for a minute, then pour it out when the water turned a dark greenish-blue. He then used the tongs to move the film to the developer tub. He didn’t leave it there for long with developer timing is critical. He agitated the tank for ten seconds once every minute while developing, flipping the film over firmly several times. Once time was up, Lance poured the used developer down the drain and moved the film to the stop bath, a chemical designed to halt the developing process on contact. For his purposes, water would suffice nicely.

Next was the fixer. The timing for the fixer wasn’t as critical as the developer. It wasn’t critical at all. Lance prepared the dilution first then poured it in the same way as the developer. Agitate it every few seconds. Following that, came the wash, and the film could finally be safely exposed to light.

He unscrewed the top of the tank and set it aside. Pulling the reel out, he took a look at the film to make sure everything went okay. It was time for the wetting agent; the last step before drying to prevent water spots and help speed the process. Dumping the remaining water out of the tank, Lance poured a very small amount of wetting agent into the bottom and then filled it with water slowly until the reel was submerged. Lance tapped the sides of the tank to shake any bubbles off the surface of the film.

Finally, he hung it up to dry. He twisted the reel apart and lifted one half of it off. Carefully pinching one end of the roll and lifted the film off the reel letting it unfurl. It was critical not to let it touch the ground or anything else. Once it was up, he had to leave it for four to eight hours, so it had time to dry and harden completely.

Once the film was hung, Lance rejoined Cassia in the studio. She had been working on her walk but doing poorly. Lance gave her more instruction, but she wasn’t getting it. So, he gave her a quick demonstration only to turn around and see her trying not to laugh. She treated everything like it was a joke. Lance ordered her to walk again.

They practiced for over an hour, and then Cassia sat down. She wasn’t laughing anymore. Her feet were sore, and the heels had given her blisters. “Get up and walk.” He ordered taking her by the arm and forcing her to stand up.

“But my feet hurt.” She complained.

“Oh, boo-hoo.” He snipped. “Get over yourself princess and work through the pain. A true supermodel will have blisters upon blisters and still smile as she walks down the runway.” Cassia frowned but did as he instructed limping with every step. “Suck it up.” He said coming to stand behind her. His hands went to her hips as she walked he guided her body through each step. “You want to stand out you need to develop a fierce walk.” It was too much, and Cassia stumbled catching herself on the back of a chair.

“I can’t it hurts too much.” She whined.

Lance rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen. “We’ll take a break.” He said opening the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh god yes.” She said taking a seat at the island. Lance took out some leftover pizza from the fridge and placed it on the island. Cassia reached for a slice only to have Lance slap her hand. “Ouch.”

“That’s not for you.” He said taking a carrot from the fridge and handing it to her.

Cassia stared at the vegetable in her hand. “You must be kidding.” Lance lifted one dark brow with that ‘not on your life’ look. Cassia sighed and took a bite of the carrot. “Umm, craptastic.”

Lance warmed up some pizza and watched her rub her feet. She had kicked off her shoes. The skin was red and blistered from toe to heel. She clearly didn’t wear heels very often. He supposed they had done enough for one day. “You can take off if you like. We’ll pick this up tomorrow morning.” A look of relief flooded her face. “Tomorrow I want to see a model when you get here, someone who is prepared. We’re going out.”

“Going where?”

“Does it matter?” She should be grateful for his help and stop with the questions.

Painfully Cassia got on her feet and picked up her runners. Her shoes in hand she limped to the elevator, and before she pushed the button, she said good-bye. Making her a model, was going to be no easy task.

After a few hours, Lance returned to his film. It had dried nicely. Taking it down, he cut the film into strips to make contact sheets. The process took half an hour and then Lance had the developed contact sheet on the light table. With his magnifier in hand, Lance poured over the sheet trying to find any flaw, finding none he moved on to selecting the best shots.

Surprisingly under the right circumstances, Cassia took a good picture. Perhaps there was hope for her after all. Scrutinizing each shot Lance selected the strongest photo. She was curled up with her hand on her shoulder, and the ring caught the light just right. It was perfect for a jewellery ad. He believed she could sell the ring.

His gaze then moved to that long swan-like neck, her head back and her long ebony mane almost touched the floor with the way she was sitting. Her eyes had taken on a heated look; her full red lips parted ever so slightly in a seductive way. She really could be breathtaking when she wanted to be.

Making his pick, Lance returned to his darkroom with his film. He set up the chemicals needed to process the paper. He set the enlarger light to "focus" and open the aperture to its widest setting so that he could see the image clearly. Lance exposed the paper and then moved the paper to the tub of print developer, stop bath, and then the fixer. He placed the paper face down in the trays and agitated the chemicals by moving the tray from the corner.

After a few minutes in each Lance took the paper and rinsed it in a water wash tub then carefully hung each sheet up to dry. It would take a good ten or fifteen minutes to dry. In the meantime, Lance cleaned up the chemicals.

Lance stood in the darkroom watching the pictures dry. They had turned out well; he thought, studying Cassia’s face in each picture. For a farm girl, she had a certain elegance in her face. She reminded him of his mother. Dark and beautiful.

He could sell her, he was sure of it. Give her a makeover make her a little edgier he could sell her. He smirked, and he would, he would sell her to every job Cindy auditioned for. Hell, he would promote her himself. He could manage a model as good if not better than any modelling manager. Screw Marcus Chatmen, steal his girl, he’d make sure neither of them could find work; and if that failed he would buy PSI himself and drop them both. He would teach that b***h to play him like a fool.

***

Cassia limped into her loft and collapsed on the couch. It felt like her feet were going to fall off, they hurt so bad. She laid back and propped her feet up on the arm of the couch. She was hungry, but she didn’t want to get up and walk to the fridge to get anything. She was grateful no one was home to see how pathetic she looked.

Cassia lay on that couch until the sun went down and the living room grew dark. When she heard the door, she sat up quickly and put her feet on the floor hoping no one would notice the pain she was in. In came Kimberly and Charlotte laughing loudly. They hung up their coats and came to the couch. “Look at you; you look like you feel better,” Kimberly said. “I thought you were sick.”

“I was,” Cassia lied, “but I’m feeling better.

“Well, that’s good to see,” Charlotte said coming around the couch. “Because we are all going to a club tonight. I hear it’s the place to be if you want to get noticed.”

Cassia had a fake ID to get in, but she didn’t feel like a night on her feet but if she didn’t go her roommates would be wondering why. She couldn’t tell them she was chilling with Lance Sanchez. They would be all over him, and he would stop helping her. Resigning herself to the inevitable Cassia went to her room to change. She put on her best dress and fixed her hair and makeup. Looking her best she joined the other girls and they headed out.

Reaching the lobby, Cassia cringed when she saw a familiar face. Standing there reading the buzzer list was a man she knew from home. Andy Wilson had been her boyfriend back home. He hadn’t taken her moving away well. He had thought she was trying to leave him. Well, maybe she was.

The boy had gotten too serious too fast. By the time they graduated he had already proposed to her with grand plans of living in a mobile home and working the land like their folks. Cassia had wanted more than that. She wanted something she couldn’t find at home. Something she couldn’t find with Andy.

At that point, she had to do the hardest thing she ever did. She broke up with Andy and moved away from home. So far it had been a struggle, but she didn’t regret it. When Andy spotted her, he had a wide toothy grin. “Wow, you look sensational.” He said as they reached him.

Cassia wasn’t smiling. “What are you doing here?”

He was a good-looking boy, a football star back home with his height and broad shoulders. He was a good boy but not very bright. “I came out to see you.” He said with a smile. “I drove all night.”

Now she felt bad about what she was about to say. “But Andy I don’t want to see you. I already told you that back home.”

“I know,” he said lifting his hands in a ‘bear with me’ sort of way, “I was thinking…” That was never good, “this modelling thing is important to you, so it’s important to me. I can help you.” Cassia just shook her head. The boy didn’t know the first thing about modelling how was he going to help her? “I can work and take care of you while you peruse this modelling thing.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Sabrina gushed with big eyes. “He’s cute, who’s your little pet.” Cassia sighed poor Andy was too simple to know she was making fun of him.

“Guys this is Andy Wilson, my ex-boyfriend. Andy these are my roommates Kimberly Muckle, Charlotte Ottwell, Sabrina Wiltshire, and Olivia Flacon.” She introduced them all.

“Nice to meet you all.” He said shaking their hands.

“Maybe he should come with us,” Olivia suggested playfully. Cassia shot them a nasty look. That was all she needed for them to encourage him.

“I would love to,” Andy said straightening out his worn-out jean jacket.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” She said flatly. “Andy it’s over, please just go home.” She pleaded. He looked hurt but then shrugged it off.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to get a job and prove to you that I can take care of you.” She didn’t doubt he could; his ability to provide was never in question. She couldn’t be a model with him his simple ways would hold her back. She needed someone like Lance Sanchez, and she finally had a shot at the real deal she wasn’t going to give it up just because Andy was too thick to get the hint.

“Good-bye, Andy.” She said pushing past him.

“That was cold,” Kimberly said as they walked away.

“I was nice the first time. He can’t accept that I’ve outgrown him.”

“I think he’s cute,” Sabrina said as they headed through the parking lot. “Oh my god!” She gasped. “Look at that car.”

Cassia noticed the same thing everyone else did the expensive yellow Lamborghini Murcielago with tinted windows and specialized Michelin PAX run-flat tires. It was a four-hundred-thousand-dollar car parked out back.

“Don’t get too close you’ll probably set off the alarm,” Olivia said pulling Sabrina back a few steps. A car like this would most certainly have a state-of-the-art security system that would probably chop off the hands of anyone foolish enough to try and touch it.

“I wonder who it belongs to?” Kimberly said walking around the front to read the loft number on the wall. “Number five.”

“Wait didn’t you have a date with number five last night?” Sabrina asked focusing on Cassia.

“It turned out to be a joke no one was home.” Cassia lied.

“I wonder who it is,” Kimberly repeated.

“I don’t know, but whoever it is he’s loaded. I wonder if he’s single.” Olivia said giddily.

Cassia felt bad lying to her friends, but she felt even worse for Lance. Listening to these women talking about him like he was some lottery. A bank account they had yet to tap into. She wondered if things like this ever happened in front of him. It could explain why he was so moody; everyone only wanting him for his money and his connections. Suddenly Cassia felt like a complete ass. Was she any different? She had gone up there with the very same intentions to use him to benefit herself. At that moment she felt a total of two inches high.

She would have to do something nice for him. Something to show she did appreciate the time he was taking to help her; but what? What could someone like her do for someone like him?