Arms—3 ½ heads
Hand—
Hip to knee—2 heads
Knee to foot?—
The students calculated the missing two proportions using the jointed 3-D figure on their desk and reported out correctly. A couple of volunteers came up for them to test the measurements on a human being and although there were subtle differences, theEight Heads Ruleworked well. Altogether, that took about twenty minutes of class. They were supposed to use those measurements to help scale their drawing for this evening.
As Saylor ensured the door was locked, she was pleased that everyone discussed the information with their partner. She signaled Alice, who quickly disrobed and took her spot on the dais. The class immediately dived into their sketchbooks.
Saylor moved around the room, returning the first drawings of Max with her comments. She took time to give encouragement to each student individually and answer any questions. To her delight, several artists grabbed the tape measure and compared the proportion. Seeing them self-assess and connect the dots for why their sketch looked off pleased her. Just that one piece of information could make a huge difference in their work.
At the end of the class, they would compare their progress over the semester. Saylor’s fingers were crossed they’d see the improvement in their work. That would reward Saylor for driving to campus.
The last sketch in her hand was Max’s depiction of her. He’d only chosen to draw her from the shoulders up so the proportions couldn’t be assessed for skill. She stopped behind him and forced herself to focus on the drawing instead of Max’s broad, powerful body.
“This was great work. You couldn’t see my body from where I was seated so…” Her voice stopped as Max turned back a page in his pad to reveal a picture of her sitting casually in a chair. She was flattered by the attractiveness of her image.
“It’s not perfect. I only had my memory to work with,” Max said, watching her face closely.
He cared about what she thought. “Your proportions are close to the norm with some natural deviations because bodies aren’t perfectly made. I get the impression that you’ve heard this before.”
“My seventh-grade art teacher had an art club during study hall. He shared the proportion thing, and it made perfect sense.”
“Ah! That makes sense. Let me see how your Alice is coming.”
Max turned back to the initial lines he’d sketched for himself. Saylor held out her fingers for his pencil. “Can I show you something?”
“Of course.”
Leaning over him slightly, Saylor maintained the most distance she could without appearing remote. She added two quick, contoured lines to the sweep of Alice’s back. “I’ve found adding a hint of curve to spines makes them look more realistically close to what our brains expect, even if our eyes don’t see the slight movement. What do you think?”
“That makes Alice look less like a mannequin and more like a breathing person. Thanks.”
Saylor nodded and moved on to the next person, trying to convince herself he hadn’t smelled good enough to eat. An X-rated image popped into her mind, and her panties were soaked. Saylor shook her head. Thank goodness she’d recharged her vibrator. She’d need it tonight.
CHAPTER 3
“You don’t have to walk me out every night,” Saylor told Max quietly when he plucked the box of supplies out of her hands.
“I know. You’re doing me a favor. Mom-induced guilt would have me tossing and turning all night,” Max said with a grin that transformed his chiseled face from serious to fun-loving. “Besides, I wanted to see if you’d like to get some coffee tomorrow.”
“Max, I don’t date students.”
“Okay. Can I get on your calendar for two months from now? I won’t be a student then.”
“No, Max. The university frowns on fraternizing with students.”
“Sure, with nineteen-year-olds. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m not a teenager.”
“Funny, Max. Would you drop it, please?”
“Of course, Saylor. Can you tell me why you have mace on your keyring? Not that I don’t approve of personal safety devices, butmy guess is there’s something else from the way you scan the parking lot.”
Saylor stopped in her tracks and whirled to give him a death stare that would have flambéed him had Max not considered himself burn-proof. “I knew this was a mistake. I’ll see if there’s an opening on Wednesday evening with Arthur Pinellas. Would you be available to start…”
Pounding feet sounded on the pavement. The words coming out of Saylor’s mouth stopped abruptly. Her portfolio dropped to the ground, unheeded. She lifted her arm, fumbling with the canister of mace. Her hands shook so badly, the keychain dropped with a rattle to the concrete at her feet.
