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“I’m Eve Hill. It’s nice to meet you. What can I do for you, Grace?”
“Jenny from the, um, saloon? She gave me your name.”
“The saloon?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what it’s called. It’s right next to the…” She swallowed. “Stud Farm?”
“Oh, Jenny! Of course. That’s the Crooked R Saloon. After Rayleen, I think. Anyway, are you looking for a photographer?”
“No, actually. I’m a makeup artist. I don’t know how much work you’d have for someone like me, but I brought my portfolio, if you’d be interested in taking a look. I’ve been working in L.A. for almost ten years. I just got to Jackson yesterday.”
Eve took the portfolio. “You’re planning to stay?”
“I’m not sure yet.” It was a lie, but at least she wasn’t promising to settle down.
“Why don’t we sit down and I’ll take a look.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
She followed Eve to the conference room and sat across the table from her, watching as she paged through the book of photos. This part didn’t make her nervous, at least. Her work was good. So she was free to study the photographer. Eve looked about thirty-five. Pretty in an unassuming way. She didn’t wear much makeup, but didn’t really need it. Her dark hair contrasted nicely with her faintly tanned skin. Her hazel eyes were wide-set and interesting, though she looked the slightest bit tired.
“You’re really good,” Eve said when she looked up.
“Thank you.”
“So, what are you doing in Jackson?”
Well, she wasn’t subtle. Grace liked that. “I needed a change.”
Eve nodded, and her gaze roamed unself-consciously over Grace, taking her in. The wild hair. The tattered sweater. “I’m not sure I have steady work for you in makeup. Brides, sure. Right now they just get their makeup done at local salons, but they don’t always understand what’s best for photos. I spend a lot of time touching up the prints.”
Grace was nodding already. It was what she’d expected to hear, after all.
“But…” Eve said just as Grace was about to pitch herself for whatever freelance work she could get. “A lot of these are modeling shots and movie stills. You obviously know the industry.”
“Yes.”
“You know how the business works?”
“Yes.”
“So maybe you could do something more for me.”
“How so?”
“I do some work setting up shoots for the industry. Magazines. Movie stills. That kind of thing. Right now, I have a lot of that and then some. More than I can handle. You know the players. You know the language and politics. If you’d consider taking some of that on, in addition to the occasional makeup job, we might be able to try something out.”
Grace was too shocked to say anything for a few long seconds. This woman wanted to give her a chance? This woman wanted to take a risk on a girl with purple hair, a bad attitude and a completely unknown past? Why?
When Grace didn’t answer, Eve cleared her throat. “If you really don’t want to do the other work, I’d be happy to call you when I need a makeup artist for weddings. And sometimes there are big charity events that—”
“No! It’s not that. I’ve just never done that kind of work before, but I’d be happy to try.” Would she? She had no idea.
“How much do you charge for freelancing?”
“In L.A., I charged a hundred dollars an hour for freelance beauty work, but I’m quick, so I’m never more than thirty minutes. Usually less. But here…forty dollars a session?”
“I think that’s fair. You’ll be totally freelance. I won’t ask for a cut. But there’s no way I can pay more than fifteen dollars an hour for the office work, and the hours will be part-time.”
