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She slams the door behind her and I roll my eyes. As I massage my temples with my fingertips, I try not to think too hard about her threat. Here’s the thing-- I may be 42, but I am not ready to get married yet. At least not to Margo York.
God, I used to have more money than I knew what to do with. In my 20s, I was a top male model and walked the runways in Europe and did campaigns for designers like Versace, Dolce & Gabbana and Ralph Lauren. I bought this beach house in Malibu and dumped my Toyota for my dream car-- a Dodge Demon which is a limited piece of automotive history. With 840 horsepower, she can do 0-60 miles per hour in 2.3 seconds and 0-30 mph in a second flat. Driving that baby down the Pacific Coast Highway is better than fucking a supermodel.
Trust me, I know. I’ve had my fair share and despite their beauty, most are vapid, boring and have zero personality.
For me, modeling held no challenge and I found myself becoming more and more interested in photography. One day, I bought a camera and started taking pictures. And, they were damn good. I discovered a talent I never knew I had and began booking gigs on the other end of the lens.
Along the way, I guess I became a little...arrogant. I knew my pictures were better than the majority out there and I knew how to get a good shot fast. But, at some point, my reputation turned from exciting new photographer to moody and difficult to work with.
And, now, when I need money, the photography jobs have dried up.
I don’t think I should apologize for having high standards, though. I expect my crew and the talent to work hard. If they slack or don’t take the job seriously, I’m going to get pissed. What’s so wrong with that?
On my set, I maintain a professional atmosphere at all times and I challenge everyone around me to rise to the occasion. Not to be better, but to be the best. I won’t tolerate anything but perfection.
Apparently, my brilliance at getting phenomenal pictures is the reason I have a difficult reputation.It’s bullshit.An artist is under a lot of pressure to succeed and most people don’t have a clue what it takes to make it in this town.
Now that Margo is gone, I head into the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge. I think I’ll order that pizza, too, I decide. With extra pepperoni, bacon and sausage.
“Processed meats are full of nitrates and nitrites, Nicholas,” she would say in that silky voice of hers. “But, if you want to get cancer then go right ahead and order it.”
I pick up the phone and place the order.
Then, I wander outside, onto the back deck, and lean against the wooden rail, eyes on the gray waves of the Pacific Ocean. It’s still overcast today, but the end of June Gloom is in sight since July is almost here. I don’t mind the cooler weather and mistiness but, after a month, I’m ready for vibrant blue skies and the warm sun again.
As I take another sip of the beer, my phone rings. It’s my agent and I answer on the second ring. “Nick Knight,” I say.
“Nick, it’s Deirdre. What are you doing this weekend? Because I have an amazing job opportunity for you.”
“What’s the job?” I ask, interest piqued.
“Guess campaign with a new up and coming model. It’s going to be brilliant and guarantee a hefty paycheck for you. The shoot is Saturday and Sunday, but we’ll fly you in a day early to get situated.”
“Where?”
“Las Vegas, baby. After the shoot, you can stay a day or two and get some gambling in if you want. What do you say, Nick?”
“Who’s the model?” I ask.
I hear some shuffling and wait while she tries to find the newbie’s name. “Uh, Sierra, no, wait, Savannah. Savannah Hart.”
Never heard of her.But, all it takes is one campaign like this to launch a model’s career. And, I like that kind of challenge. And, God knows, I could also use the paycheck. There’s a stack of bills on the kitchen counter and I’ve been dreading opening them for over a week now.
“Book it,” I say. Even if this Savannah Hart never modeled a day in her life and looks like a toad, I have the talent and expertise to make her look like a million bucks. Like a superstar. And, even though the money won’t solve my current dilemma, it will help.
Vegas, here I come.
