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Click, click, click. He moved back and forth in front of me with the camera, crossing my sight line like a pendulum.
“I don’t know. I guess I just want to be taken seriously.”
He snapped more pictures, this time stepping closer. “You don’t think a woman can be sexy and taken seriously?”
“Of course,” I said. But did I believe that?
He was smiling into the viewfinder.
“It’s easier doing this without my work colleagues around,” I admitted.
“People on their own are far less inhibited. They’re more themselves. That’s why I prefer to do group shots this way. Photoshop everyone together later. Okay, I want to get a few more before we lose the sun,” he said, peering over his camera, a lock of wavy hair rakishly falling over one of those gray eyes.
I noticed long shadows tracing along the wood planks. The day was drifting by. I also realized the blond assistant wasn’t around anymore and low jazz music was wafting from hidden speakers. Are we alone? I put my hand on my stomach, feeling a little dizzy, hungry maybe. Where was that canapé table? Didn’t Marsha mention food?
“Solange, I’d like to see you in something other than your work wear.”
What?
“Oh. Well, I didn’t bring anything else but—”
“Something that shows off your true self. Away from work.”
He regarded me intently, like this was a dare.
“Like I said, I didn’t bring casual clothes. Why would I?”
This was becoming strange.
“I have some things you can try on. They’re hanging in my room. See if anything strikes you.”
What the hell? He seemed so nonchalant, adding, “If you’ll accept the Step, that is.”
He snapped a picture of my face just then, no doubt revealing the shock registered there. The room was completely silent except for the creaks and knocks from the surrounding lofts. Oh, and my heart rattling around inside my chest.
“Are you one of the men from …?”
He nodded, his face serene. He regarded me thoughtfully, his camera down, resting against his thigh.
“Don’t you normally sleep with supermodels?”
“I can assure you, I never kiss and tell. So?”
“So.”
“So … do you accept the Step, Solange?”
When he smiled, his skin crinkled around his mouth and eyes. I slid off the stool. My legs were liquid.
“Which Step is it again?”
“Courage,” he said, his free hand now traveling under his T-shirt to his stomach. Maybe he was nervous too?
“I could certainly use more of that right about now.”
“This is one way to get it.”
“Okay then. Why don’t I go and slip?into?some?thing?morecom?for?table?” I said it really, really fast as I made my way to his bedroom.
