‘James Jacobs is going to be in them,’ he reminded me. ‘They’re going to be the best photographs ever taken.’
‘The idea is New Year’s resolutions, so we have two set-ups,’ Cici explained, ignoring our whispered conversation as we followed her through to the studio. ‘The first is black-tie wardrobe and we’re shooting against a green screen. We’ll drop something behind them later—’
‘Something?’ I asked.
Cici turned her blue eyes on me.
‘Something,’ she repeated. ‘You don’t need to ask questions, you just need to take the picture.’
‘But shouldn’t I know?’ I asked, flashing back to the photoshoot debacle in Hawaii. I had learned my lesson about not thoroughly discussing the brief before the shoot got started. ‘I mean, I’m the photographer.’
‘I mean, you’re not really,’ Cici sniped back. I heard Kekipi take a deep breath behind me as he gripped my elbow tightly. ‘And if I knew what we were putting behind them, I’d tell you. But I don’t know, we’re still working on it. Just tell them it’s a party or something. It’s a New Year’s party.’
‘Do you want me to find an image?’ I asked. I’d worked on some greenscreen stuff with Ess so I knew what I was doing. ‘I think I’d rather, if it’s OK with you.’
‘I want you to take a photograph,’ she said, speaking very slowly. ‘The art team are on it.’
‘Fine,’ I muttered. Some people didn’t want you to be helpful. ‘Then what?’
‘Second set-up is individual portraits to run with their New Year’s resolutions, James first, then Sadie. We want them to look like normal people – only not. At home in their pyjamas, putting on a face mask, eating ice cream, watching TV.’
So the concept was dressing a supermodel up as me. As if I didn’t feel bad enough seeing a supermodel in a bikini, now I had to feel inadequate when I was watching Netflix in my PJs.
I shunted my camera bag up my shoulder. ‘Do we have the resolutions, do you know what they are?’
‘No,’ she replied, still messing about with her iPad. ‘So don’t ask me for them. Angela is writing the piece today.’
‘Got it,’ I said. ‘I’ll just stop talking altogether.’
‘And the world will be a better place,’ Cici said with a big smile. ‘Like I said, we don’t have a lot of time. I can’t believe that bitch dropped out at the last minute yesterday. I hope her film flops so hard she ends up in reality TV.’
I really, really wanted to know who it was. The internet gave away nothing.
‘That’s it. Do you think you can manage?’ she asked, a look of faux concern forcing her Botoxed eyebrows as high as they could go. Which wasn’t very high. ‘You’re representing my magazine today and I know Angela wants to throw you a bone or whatever but this is still important.’
‘Tess is an amazing photographer,’ Kekipi answered before I could punch her perfectly aligned teeth out. ‘You’re going to be blown away.’
‘I’ll settle for mildly disappointed as long as I have usable photographs at the end of the day,’ she said with a saccharine smile. ‘So don’t let me down, yeah?’
‘Christ, she’s better at guilt trips than my mum,’ I said as she marched away to the make-up area where two girls stood quaking in their extremely stylish boots. ‘They should send her out to schools to tell kids not to do drugs.’
‘Please, do you know how many of her I’ve come across over the years?’ he huffed. ‘She’s ten to a penny, all hair extensions and attitude. And she’ll stay that way until her husband has an affair with the nanny.’
‘Have I mentioned that I love you?’ I asked him, setting my equipment on a table and giving him a hug. ‘I owe you one.’
‘Anything for my bridesmaid,’ he said, squeezing me back. ‘Although I will hold you to that. I do hope you won’t end up regretting it.’
‘Me too,’ I agreed, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder, Cici-style. ‘Now, can we at least pretend to be professional?’
‘We can try,’ he said. ‘But I make no promises.’
‘Good enough for me,’ I told him, unzipping my camera bag and smiling for real. ‘Let’s do this.’
‘I don’t want to do this!’
Two hours later and Sadie Nixon, my gorgeous model, was standing in front of me in a gorgeous midnight-blue gown that fell all the way to the floor, intermittently slashed with sheer panels that showed off her perfect body. Combined with her gorgeous hair and gorgeous make-up, she pretty much looked gorgeous.
‘I look awful,’ she pouted as I tried to line up the shot. ‘I am hideous.’
‘You look beautiful,’ I told her, glancing over at Kekipi for support. But Kekipi was too busy watching James Jacobs getting an epic make-up job on the huge bags underneath his eyes. Shockingly, I really did feel like the most professional person on set. ‘That dress is incredible.’
‘I look like a fat cow,’ she replied, grabbing at a tiny ripple of fabric and somehow mistaking it for a slab of human flesh. ‘Look at this. I’m enormous. I can’t wear this.’
‘Uh, I think you look amazing,’ I searched the room for Cici. Nowhere to be found, of course. ‘Incredibly beautiful. Unreal, even.’
‘Fine, just take the shot.’ Sadie stopped sulking for one second, stared directly into the camera and became the most beautiful creature on the planet. I clicked off ten fast frames before she started pouting again and the moment was over. ‘Have we met before? You look familiar.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said, reviewing the images on my camera. It was amazing how she had transformed. Models really were a different species to the rest of us. ‘I haven’t been to New York before.’
‘Did you shoot me in Paris?’ she asked, picking up the skirt of the dress and letting it fall, another second of perfect beauty. ‘Maybe it was London?’
‘No, I’m pretty new,’ I replied, trying to capture the shot before her mood changed again. ‘We definitely haven’t met.’
‘I’m really only doing this as a favour to Angela,’ Sadie said, turning away from me and glancing back over her shoulder. She was so beautiful I could barely stand to look at her. ‘I’m kind of a big deal.’
‘Must be nice for you,’ I said. ‘That’s amazing, what you’re doing now. So beautiful.’
‘I broke up with my boyfriend last night,’ she said in a stage whisper. ‘I feel awful.’
‘Clearly he’s an idiot,’ I said, checking in on Kekipi to see him holding a glass of water and a straw up to James Jacobs’s lips. ‘You’re a goddess and he’s not worth it and, um, forget that guy. Could you stand on that mark right there?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, her eyes brightening a shade. ‘Forget that guy.’
‘I know …’ I held up my camera triumphantly, hoping to get her on side. ‘Let’s take the most incredibly beautiful, sexy photos and make sure he sees them. That’ll teach him. And could you please stand on the mark?’
‘Uh, yeah, there’s a photo of me in my underwear in Times Square,’ she pointed out. ‘And like a million on the internet. I’m a model?’
Model break-ups were presumably very different to civilian break-ups.
‘Oh yeah.’ I walked over to the green screen and physically moved her onto the taped-out mark on the floor. ‘Well, let’s think of something else.’
‘Guys always break up with me over the holidays,’ she whined. ‘Or around my birthday. Or Valentine’s Day. It’s like any time there’s a thing, you know?’
I nodded, although clearly I did not know. Personally, I would have broken up with her any day that had a ‘y’ in it, but, thankfully, I did not have a penis and it would never be a problem I had to deal with.
‘It’s like, every time I meet a guy, he only wants to date me for five minutes.’
Without a second’s warning, she sank to the floor and rested her chin in her hands.
‘I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. It’s super-confusing.’
‘I’m sure you’re
not doing anything wrong,’ I told her, running over to pull the hem of the dress off her spike heel before twelve hundred dollars’ worth of shoes tore through five thousand dollars’ worth of dress and I was fired immediately.
These were the situations where an assistant was useful, I told myself, looking back at the Kekipi/James Jacobs love-in. If only I’d thought to bring one with me …
‘Yeah, I totally am,’ she sighed and rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye, destroying the make-up that had taken fifty minutes to apply. ‘I mean, it’s got to be me, right? It’s like my roommate says, I’m the only common nomination.’
I frowned and sat down beside her.
‘Nomination?’ It took me a minute to work out what she meant. ‘Well, I think all it means is you haven’t met the right man. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to make a man happy, should you?’
Sadie pursed her lipstick commercial lips into a perfect pout for a moment while she thought about it.
‘I guess,’ she said finally. I was very glad she’d taken so long to come up with such a considered response. ‘I’m, like, so nice to the guys I date.’
‘There you go then.’ I began to stand up but she grabbed by elbows and dragged me back down.
‘You’re right,’ she said, the pout replaced with determination. ‘I’m gonna be me and when the right guy comes along, he’ll appreciate that.’
‘Hell yeah,’ I said, holding out my hand for a high five. And holding it. And holding it. Eventually, I put it back down by my side. Apparently we weren’t there yet. ‘You be you.’
‘Yeah.’ She sounded more and more convinced by the second. ‘I mean, it’s their problem if they can’t deal with my job, right?’
‘Right,’ I agreed.
‘And it’s not weird to want to do nice things for your boyfriend, is it?’
‘No,’ I said, frowning slightly ‘What kind of nice things?’
‘And what kind of dude doesn’t want to give his girlfriend a key to his apartment?’ She held up her hands in despair. ‘I mean, clearly he is the one with intimacy issues there.’
‘Well, I don’t know if a man would want to give you a key right away,’ I said. ‘But you know—’
‘And he should want to buy me gifts.’ Oh dear God, she wasn’t finished. ‘And I don’t see why he would be mad at me having his cat re-homed when I am so allergic. Who chooses a cat over the love of their life?’
I placed a hand on her wrist as two bright pink spots developed in her cheeks.
‘How long were you going out with this man?’ I asked. ‘Just out of interest?’
‘Forever,’ she said, whacking down the billowing edges of her gown. ‘Like, two months.’
My breath caught in my throat and I choked down a gasp, coughing like a dying seal instead.
‘Forever, right?’ she blew a strand of hair out of her mouth. ‘What an A-hole.’
‘A-hole of the highest order,’ I nodded. ‘You’re better off without him.’
And lucky he didn’t take out a restraining order, I added silently.
‘Your boyfriend would never behave like that,’ she said, patting my hand absently. ‘I can tell. You wouldn’t take that shit.’
‘I don’t actually have a boyfriend,’ I said.
‘Girlfriend?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘No, not gay, just single,’ I replied. ‘Did you think I was gay?’
‘Not so much,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Just maybe your shoes. And your pants. And—’
‘Well, I’m not,’ I interrupted, folding my gay feet underneath my gay jeans. ‘Just single.’
‘But there must be someone you like,’ she said, a conspiratorial smile on her face. ‘There’s always someone.’
‘It’s complicated,’ I said, returning her smile. ‘When is it not?’
‘You just gotta go for it,’ Sadie said, shrugging her delicate shoulders as though it was that simple. ‘You gotta know what you want and you gotta go get it.’
‘Good advice,’ I admitted. ‘But what if what you want isn’t a good idea?’
‘Oh, it never is,’ she laughed. ‘But since when did that stop anyone?’
I wriggled my toes, shaking off pins and needles in my left foot. She had a point. But was I really going to take romantic advice from a woman who gave her boyfriend’s cat away because it made her eyes water?
‘I hate being single,’ she went on with a moan in her voice. ‘All my friends are coupled up. I’m the last old hag who can’t keep a man.’
‘If you’re a hag, I’d hate to think what I am!’ I laughed as Sadie opened her mouth to respond. ‘That was a rhetorical question,’ I explained. ‘You don’t have to answer.’
‘I wasn’t going to call you a hag,’ she said, laughing as she spoke. ‘Silly. You’re not a hag. You’re just normal.’
Normal. Was that what I was?
‘And normal’s OK,’ she whispered, as though it wasn’t something everyone needed to know. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a normal dude to date eventually.’
‘Shall we take some photos?’ I asked brightly. ‘Before we run out of time?’
She gave a nod and shrug before rising from the floor, her dress floating out all around her, her face soft and delicate.
‘You look incredible,’ I said, speaking without thinking. I’d worked with what felt like a lot of models over the last few months but Sadie was something else. Maybe it wasn’t so irrational of her to expect a man to lose a cat on her behalf.
‘Thank you.’ She shook out her loose blonde curls and leapt on her mark, all drama over, all concern forgotten, suddenly the consummate professional. ‘Is this good?’
‘Perfect,’ I told her, snapping ecstatically. It was impossible to put a camera on this woman and take a bad photo and I was almost guaranteed to get something for the competition. Relaxing into the shoot, I felt a wave of certainty wash over me. I’d got this. I knew exactly what I was doing and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
‘I’m not sure about this,’ I said, watching a group of deliverymen wheel two giant black boxes onto the set. ‘Cici, they seem awfully big for the space.’
‘They’re perfect,’ she snapped, signing the clipboard of a large, greasy man who seemed far too sweaty for the temperature outside. ‘And you should be grateful I managed to get hold of them at all. Maybe now we’ll be able to get a photo we can actually use.’
‘I thought the photos looked good,’ Sadie whispered, checking the monitor over my shoulder. ‘Don’t they look good?’
‘They look great,’ Kekipi said. ‘She’s actually lost her mind.’
‘We’re going to do the picture of the two of you one more time.’ The edges of Cici’s voice frayed as she spoke to James and Sadie, ignoring me. ‘But with a snow machine. For the drama.’
‘I don’t know if we need to do this,’ James said, flapping his hands at Kekipi as he fussed with his bow tie. ‘I really do think we’ve got the shot. We’ve been at it all day, darling.’
‘We’ll have it in five minutes,’ Cici said. She gave the clipboard back to the large man and wiped her hands on her skintight jeans. ‘Trust me.’
Sadie stared her down for a moment, then turned to me.
‘Tess, what do you think?’ she asked.
‘What do I think?’
I blinked as James, Kekipi and the make-up artists all turned to look at me. I’d been contemplating checking my phone if Kekipi would let me. Surely Nick must have replied by now? Across the studio, I saw Cici with her hands on her hips and a foul expression on her face.
What I thought was that we already had the shots we needed.
Everyone was tired and bored and wanted to go home; it had been a long day in the studio and there wasn’t a person there who wasn’t ready to swing for Cici Spencer, but Cici Spencer was technically the client. And wasn’t it my job to keep the client happy? Could I even say no? We were taught never to say no to a client in my old job. If this wer
e an ad campaign, I’d put together a couple of other options to humour her and eventually talk them round to the original idea. Surely this was the same?
‘The longer you all argue with me, the longer it will take,’ Cici said before switching her attention to the men who were setting up, while James and Sadie reluctantly hovered around the make-up chairs. ‘It’s all set up and ready to go?’
‘Uh-huh.’ One of the men nodded, talking directly to her cleavage. ‘Press the green button to start it up. The red button turns it off.’
‘Can we stop wasting time?’ Cici said, waving the deliveryman away. ‘This is going to make the shot and you’ll all be thanking me once it’s done. Start now and we’ll all be home inside an hour.’
Was it possible we really did just want the same thing? I looked outside at the pitch-black sky and then back at the set, trying to imagine the image with the snow. Maybe it could work. Maybe she was right.
‘Let’s try it,’ I relented as everyone around me deflated with a mass of sighs. ‘It won’t take long.’
‘Thank you,’ Cici crowed. ‘You wait and see, this is going to be epic.’
Taking a deep breath, I climbed my little stepladder and set the camera as Sadie and James found their marks. ‘OK, Cici, turn it on.’
The second after she flipped the switch, I asked myself a thousand questions. Why didn’t we test the snow machine before we put Sadie and James in the shot? Why did I think it was a good idea to climb a ladder in front of a wind machine? And why had Kekipi crawled underneath the food service table?
But there was no time to answer any of them.
As soon as Cici switched on the wind machine, I was blown right off the ladder into a blizzard of wet snow. I came crashing down into James, who tried to throw out his arms to catch me. Unfortunately, even though he was a tall man, the laws of physics were against us. Tall man plus tall woman holding heavy camera and blown off a stepladder by twenty-mile-an-hour winds was only going to end one way.
‘My camera!’ I yelped, trying not to hit the movie star in the face as hundreds of pounds of photographic equipment clattered onto the floor. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Never better,’ James grunted, flat on his back on the ground as I curled around my camera, protecting it from the mounds of watery snow blowing towards me, just in time to see my laptop go flying on the other side of the snowstorm. ‘Thanks for asking.’