“Okay, let’s fucking do this.” Jim moves back and waves a number of people out of his way. He turns and pins his camera on Maeve. To her credit she is the consummate professional as he starts snapping photos in quick succession. She gives him a myriad smiles, all with her chin lifted and her green eyes sparkling. When he demands she change her position, she adopts it swiftly and is back to smiling and sparkly eyes in no time. All the while she doesn’t even flinch as he shouts out various comments that I believe he thinks are compliments, like“Fucking sexy, Mae, yes, work the camera like a Friday night stripper on her fucking pole… Keep smiling, fucking yes… Don’t fucking let me down now.”
But I flinch. I flinch every time he opens his asshole mouth.
“Right.” Jim lowers his camera and that has an instant effect on Maeve, her smile slipping and her shoulders rounding again. “That’s a wrap on this outfit. But I do want some topless shots and I think that will work best with the boxers. Isn’t that what we agreed, Cheyenne?” he calls out to someone in the crowd around him.
“Topless?” Maeve’s voice is quiet and quivering but I can just about hear it from where I’m sitting. “I didn’t say I would do topless.”
But Jim’s not listening. A plump feminine-looking person is standing by his side and they’re looking at something on a tablet.
Maeve stands, and for some reason, so do I.
“Err, Jim, excuse me.” She takes a tentative step forward. “I didn’t agree to go—”
“Yes!” Jim shouts, apparently oblivious to Maeve’s attempt to talk to him. “Topless with boxers. Kind of sexy, kind of ‘just borrowed my boyfriend’s kecks’ sort of vibe.”
He starts moving toward one of the lights and begins to fiddle with the stand.
Maeve moves again nearer to him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Jim, I’m not doing topless.”
He hears her that time. I know it because he lifts his chin and gives her the quickest and most dismissive of looks, but keeps talking.
“I’m not going to actually photograph your fucking tits! Give me some credit. This is a professional commercial shoot, sweetheart. I know what I’m doing. I’m going to make it look artistic, alluring. I’m going to blow your fucking mind.”
I snort at that. Most porn sets I’ve been on have been a lot more professional and respectful than this circus.
Maeve stands still but she seems to shrink on the spot, and she says something in a quieter voice, so quiet that I can’t catch it. This prompts me to move closer.
“You’re not scared, are you? I’m sure you’ve shown much more on your fucking Instagram account. Just trust me, for fuck’s sake,” Jim says.
“But… but…” Maeve stutters.
“She’s not doing topless!” I shout out.
All the eyes in the room turn to look at me, and I feel them all, but I’m only interested in one particular green pair. Maeve’s stare is one of alarm and relief and annoyance all mixed up in a wide-eyed look and a slightly parted mouth.
“Loncey.” I see her mouth move to form my name.
I start walking toward Jim whose own expression is not confusing at all. It’s full of venom.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“One of your models.” I square my shoulders as I stand in front of him.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters under his breath, turning away to look at the floor. When his eyes are back on me they narrow and he’s finally quiet for more than a second.
“She said she doesn’t want to do topless,” I remind him.
“Wait a fucking minute, I know who you are,” he grins and it’s exactly how I imagine the devil smiling. “You’re the fucking boyfriend!”
I blink, and feel an unfortunately familiar lurch in my stomach. “What? No. I’m not… I’m nobody’s boyfriend. I’m actually—”
But he cuts me off. “For the next thirty minutes, you are very much her fucking boyfriend. You and her,” he points at Maeve, “make one very fucking attractive couple and the camera is goingto fucking lap it up. You’re Black. She’s white. You’ve got the whole dreadlocked bad boy thing going on. She’s the wholesome blonde and blue-eyed angel—”
Another surge of nausea in my stomach. “Wait, no, she’s—”
“Opposites fucking attract, that’s what we’ll have going on here.”
“No.” I hold up my hands. “That’s not going to happen. That’s not why I came to talk to you.”
