Iced Tea (25 page)

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Authors: Sheila Horgan

BOOK: Iced Tea
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“Yes ma’am.”

I limped out the door to the sound of Jovana’s laughter.

I was much faster on my feet by the time I got back to the studio.
 
AJ took one look at me feet, smiled but didn’t say a word.
 
Smart man.

“What can I do for you?”

“How did it go with Jovana?”

“It was fascinating.
 
I really enjoyed it.”

“How was her mood?”

“Oh, she was a study in concentration, as they say, I thought it was pretty damn impressive.”

“Impressive?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, we’ve had some other people complain that she’s really hard to work for.”

“I must have hit her on a good day.
 
I thought she was great.”

“Good to know.
 
You want to help me with the last of the setup?”

“I’d love to.”

We walked into the studio.
 
Where this morning there had been little more than an empty space and a bunch of boxes, there was now a wonderland.

“Wow, where did you get all this stuff?”

“One of the advantages of working in Old Town is that we are only a mile or two from two very well stocked theater prop and costume rental places.
 
The good news is that they have just about everything you can think of, and if they don’t have it, they can make it in no time.
 
The bad news is that it doesn’t come cheap, and when I’m in there, I can come up with about a million ideas for images that I’m never going to have the opportunity to take.”

“Why not?”

“Because most people say they want something different, but when it actually comes down to doing it, they want the same thing everyone else has.”

“That’s too bad, but I’ll bet if people saw some of your visions coming to life, they would want them.”

“I’ve tried that.
 
I’ve offered to give untold numbers of models images for their portfolio in return for them doing the shoots, but either they just never get around to it, or they decide that they don’t want the image done the way that I want to do it, or they bring some manager, or boyfriend, or girlfriend, that thinks they know more about what should be done than I do.
 
It’s really frustrating.”

“Well, you know the O’Flynns now.
 
We may not be the prettiest group around, but we are interesting looking, and I’m sure that you could talk any of us into just about anything.”

“Really?
 
Seems like that would be a huge imposition.”

“Firstly, we are a vain group, even if Teagan is the only one that will admit it, so if you tell them that you want to do professional quality images of them, they will jump at the chance.
 
Secondly, we are not a shy group, and if your help is needed, we will happily ask, cajole, whine, threaten, barter, or call Mom.
 
You might as well get something out of it too.
 
That’s the way it works in a family.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.
 
For now, we need to finish up this workshop, before Santa gets here.”

“Santa is coming?
 
Crap!”

“What?”

“I walked right past the diner.
 
I could have gotten milk and cookies.”

“I already have them.
 
Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“I have props.
 
Works better under the lights.”

I walked over and saw a plate of perfect Christmas cookies, and a cup of ice-cold milk.
 
The Christmas cookies were as hard as stone, and just a tiny bit shiny.
 
The milk was solid, as were the artistically placed little milk bubbles, right next to the red and white striped straw, very candy cane.
 
It all made me smile.

Jolly St. Nick came in about a half an hour later.
 
He was wearing the full Santa thing, with flip-flops.
 
It is Florida after all.
 

Several minutes later, Morgan walked in.
 
Turns out the photo shoot is for her client.
 

No one tells me anything any more.

Santa was drinking a beer, talking to Morgan about the local elementary school, turns out one of his kids is in Jordan’s class.
 

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear?
 
Well, instead of eight tiny reindeer, twelve beautiful girls, in tiny - and we’re talking teeny-tiny - bikinis came walking in.
 

Jovana was right behind them.

Long story short, very long story, the girls are all shot-girls from Jovana’s bar.
 
The bar is creating a calendar, flyers, post cards, and putting the girls up on their website.
  

Today, we shoot December.

Oh joy.

I took a deep breath.

Each and every one of the girls was wearing at least five-inch platforms, all of them bright red, all of them made the girls look that much taller and thinner and more beautiful.

In my wee little brain, I cursed the fact that I’d taken off my skyscraper heels and replaced them with comfy little ballet flats that could pass for slippers.
 
Now my jeans were all weird, and compared to them, I looked more teen babysitter than hot photographer’s girlfriend.

I’m entitled to a little body dysmorphic moment.
 
I know I’m tall and thin, but damn!
 
You put me in front of a bunch of girls that are so comfortable with themselves that they just walked through Old Town in almost a bikini, and super high red heels, and I’ll show you a woman that has a whole lot more body confidence than I do.

Plus, and I know it’s childish to mention it, these girls are doing everything they can to get the attention of the photographer so that he’ll make them the center of the picture.
 

I know AJ is a professional, I get that, but he’s also human.

Maybe this being around thing, while he is doing his thing, isn’t such a good idea after all.

I’m just sayin’.
 

It would be a shame if those girls were to get hit by an ugly stick.
 

Twice.
 

Actually, I think that if I’m ever working a shoot again, the Haagen Daz is on me.
 
Anything but mint chocolate chip, cause that is my favorite, and I’d eat it all before they ever got there, so what would be the use?

The shoot took about an hour.
 
From what Jovana said, with that many people involved, AJ is a genius.
 
I knew that.
 
The genius part anyway.

The prettiest girl had no idea how pretty she is.
 

I talked to her for a little bit.
 
She’s just trying to make a living.
 
She’s working, going to school, and raising a little girl, all on her own.
 
She’s from out of state and has no family to help.
 
I gave her my number for emergency babysitting.
 
I can’t imagine trying to do all that alone.
 
That’s what I have Teagan for.

The least pretty girl, who was far from ugly, was a total bitch.
 
I don’t use that term lightly.
 
I know it’s a no-no to speak poorly of other women, but somebody needs to kick her in the forehead.
 
She ruined so many images trying to upstage the other girls, that finally Jovana walked up to her and said, “Honey, we need to have a little talk.”
 
After all, it’s her bar, and if the pictures don’t come out well, she’s the one going to lose money, and since she and AJ are pretty much partners these days, she could step in without it being much of a problem.
 

Jovana and the diva went in the back of the studio, a few minutes later, model-zilla was under control.
 
Kind of.
 
At least she wasn’t making life difficult for all involved.

 

Morgan came over and gave me a hug before she left.
 
We promised to get together to do all things wedding soon.

All the girls trouped out of the studio and headed back toward the bar.
 

Several of them took the opportunity to get a little attention for the place, parading down the middle of the street.
 
Even in broad daylight there are enough tourists to make it a good idea.
 
Jovana’s husband came out of the bar, flyers in hand, ran out to the girls and gave them a bunch.
 

The girls walked around handing out flyers, and posing for pictures, and getting lots of attention.
 

Before I knew it, a camera crew that was working on some other story, was getting it all for the six-o’clock news.
 
Jovana and her husband couldn’t have been more pleased.

“Well, that was a long shoot.”

“Yeah, must have been terrible, all those girls flirting with you, mostly naked, and obviously willing.”

AJ let the comment go.
 
He’s good at that, “I saw you talking to one of the girls.
 
What was that about?”

“She has a baby, no family, I told her I would babysit if she ever has a real emergency.”

“You can’t save the world Cara, but I love the fact that you try.”

“It’s just babysitting.
 
I’ve been doing that since I was about five.
 
Not all by myself, but my mother liked to break us in early.
 
She would be in the house, but we were in charge.
 
Made us feel really important.
 
Mostly we just danced around and made funny faces, cause we weren’t allowed to lift a baby till we were older, but I can lift them now, I don’t even have to have permission.”
 
I gave him my most dazzling smile.
 

“Your mom’s a smart woman.
 
Kept you both busy, gave you a great sense of yourself, and probably entertained herself as well.”

“Probably.
 
What now?”

“Now we head down to the bar.
 
Jovana and I eat there most days.
 
One of the perks of working with the owner.”

“I’m not sure how you lucked into finding Jovana, or how she lucked into finding you, but you guys are great together.”

AJ burst out laughing.

“What?”
 
I’ll admit my feelings were a little hurt.

“She said almost exactly the same thing about you and me.”

I brightened immediately, “Well, see, she is a smart woman.”

We headed off to the bar, AJ with his hand on the small of my back.
 
I was jazzed.
 
I wanted those girls to see that he is taken.
 
Is that wrong?
 
Does that make me insecure?
 
I can live with it, even if it does.

 

The rest of the day was uneventful, just the way I like it.
 
I helped AJ tear down the set, and put up another one for the next day.
 
Originally, the plan was to do multiple calendar months for the bar in a couple of days, but Jovana decided she didn’t want that.
 
The girls would all look exactly the same, just in different outfits and she wanted to give the impression that there were even more beautiful girls at the bar.
 
She said the girls change their look about once a week, so they decided they would do a shoots every other week, and not in order.
 

The new set we were arranging in the studio was for a family shoot, to be shot tonight, after the guy got off work, and the kids had had their naps.
 

I reminded AJ that I had to be home to meet with my neighbor.
 
I left before rush hour traffic started up, although, in Florida, rush hour really isn’t all that bad.
 
I was in California not all that long ago, wanted to go seven miles, just seven miles, it was between two mountains, there was only the freeway, and it took me 45 minutes.
 
I couldn’t live like that.
 
It would drive me crazy.

 

I got home in plenty of time to cook dinner.
 
I tried to decide what an ex-Army kind of guy would want to eat.
 
He is, after all, doing me a huge favor.
 
I decided hearty would be good.

I ran to the kitchen and pulled out some beef, thank God it wasn’t frozen.
 
Pulled out a trusty Ziploc bag, put in some Wondra, pepper, seasoned salt, beef bouillon and shook it up to blend.

I cut the beef up into reasonable sized chunks, making sure there wasn’t too much fat on any one piece, and got out my huge stockpot.
 
I’ve never actually used the thing to make stock, I use it for most other things, but that is what the tag on the pot said, so that is what I call it.

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