Chapter 2
Trace
I was glad to get out of Los Angeles for a while. It was great to travel for work because traveling on someone else’s dime is the way to go. It’s all about five star hotels and eating in the best restaurants while squeezing in some work on the side.
Not that L.A. sucks, but I was in Miami for a weekend shoot. It was nice to be back in my hometown, seeing old friends and having some fun between my busy work schedule.
Luckily, my assistant had a brother that still lived in town, and we were crashing at his huge house near the beach. My assistant and I actually grew up together in the city, and we’ve become buddies. Emerson’s a great guy, everyone likes him. Dude’s got a weird haircut, but somehow, it worked for him. People open up to Emerson, which is important in our industry. Plus, neither of us had seen Florida for a while, so we wanted to cut loose.
After going at it hard Friday night, we woke up early on Saturday to get to the studio that Chic-Wise had booked for us. It was key to set up the backdrops and props ahead of time so that everything would be ready to go the moment the model arrived. I’d never met this girl before, but my assistant told me that she was “exceptionally hot.” Great. All the girls I work with are “exceptionally hot,” so that didn’t really tell me anything.
Except looking through her portfolio, this one seemed to have something about her. Hmm, she was different for sure. Instead of the usual stick thin type, Lila Grant was curvy everywhere. And a good kind of curvy with generous breasts, sassy hips and thick thighs. And those lips and face were absolute perfection, a goddess come to life.
But when Lila arrived, I was stunned for a moment. Because none of those pictures had captured her essence. This woman was ravishingly beautiful, sexy and innocent at once. She was Aphrodite come to life.
“Hi,” was my low growl. “Lila?”
She smiled.
“Yes, and you’re Trace, right?” she replied. “Nice to meet you.”
We shook hands, the connection electric. Shit, the brunette was beautiful, like a supernova in the small studio.
“Your guy Emerson tells me that you’re one of the top photographers in the country,” she murmured, caramel eyes lighting up. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“Yeah, he’s an incredible assistant,” I agreed. “I was looking over some of your photos here. You’ve done some great work.”
“Thanks, you too.” She giggled. “I looked at some pictures you took of some other girls. You really know how to bring out the best in a model.”
“I try,” was my modest reply. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how to do lighting so that you’ll appear flawless. I’ve got it all figured out.”
“I’m sure you do,” she giggled again.
The brunette looked around the studio, hesitating for a moment.
“I wasn’t sure if you were told,” I said to her. “But we’ll be doing all this in two different sessions. We have this space reserved for today and Monday, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Okay great,” she chirped. “I’m super excited about this.”
I looked through my case at the variety of lenses I’d brought for the shoot. While I tested them out on the camera, I could feel Lila staring at me, just thinking.
The curvy girl eventually made her way over, looking slightly anxious.
“How old are you, Trace?” Lila asked.
“Twenty-eight. Why?” I asked.
“You live out in L.A., right?”
“I do, but I’m from here originally.”
“Trace Perry… I was trying to think of where I know you from.”
I put my camera down and stared at her, really looking now. I was trying to figure it out also, but I couldn’t place her face. I knew I’d seen it before, but as a photographer, faces are our business. How could I not know her?
“I thought you looked familiar, too,” I admitted to her.
“Did you go to Miami Central?” she asked curiously.
“I did go to Miami Central.”
“You played football in high school, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Yep, got it,” I said, smiling.
“Holy shit.” She laughed. “Wow, you really are the Trace Perry I went to school with.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s possible you and I went to the same school. Trust me, I would’ve remembered you.”
“Not if I looked a lot different back then,” she said ruefully.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I sort of had ugly duckling syndrome,” she said. “You know, mousy hair, bottle cap glasses, while wearing ugly sacks. I was a late bloomer.”
“There’s no way you were ugly at all, in any context,” I growled reassuringly.
She laughed, and I really liked of it. It felt truly sincere, especially in our looks-oriented business.
“You’re very kind, but back then, I was into books and after school activities,” Lila said. “All I did was study and learn, and I hardly ever went out. I was even in marching band my freshman year. I would play out in the bleachers, and you were out on the field with the football team. I remember you out there. You were a really good.”
“Oh yeah, yeah,” I said as I saw the painted picture in my head. “You played… clarinet, right?”
“Yes, I did!” she laughed.
“Wow,” I said in utter disbelief. “I didn’t even recognize you. I can’t believe you’re the same—I mean, wow. You transformed.”
“Thanks,” she said, giggling again. “Yeah, I’ve only really been modeling for like five or six years now. It feels like a lot longer than that. College was when I really changed. I started getting noticed by a few guys, and got myself into better shape. Then a lot more guys started noticing me and trying to get my attention. And it just went on from there, a loop of positive feedback.”
I must have been staring at her for too long because the rest of the room disappeared, leaving just me and Lila. I also couldn’t help but notice how she seemed to be transforming back into that high school girl that I’d seen occasionally from time to time.
“What?” she asked me nervously, interrupting my reverie.
“Oh nothing,” was my joking reply. “I was just remembering this one time when me and the quarterback chilled under those bleachers and smoked a joint. I don’t think I’ve ever been that high in my life.”
We laughed. Emerson came over, likely to help speed things along.
“How we doing over here, guys?” my assistant asked.
“Great!” Lila smiled warmly.
“We’ll be ready to go in just a few minutes,” I said to them both, returning to my lenses. “Just give me a few.”
But then Lila paused.
“Hey, Emerson,” she said to him. “Did you go to Miami Central, too?”
“No, I went to Southridge,” he replied. “Why? Did you two go to school together? Yikes, that’s an incredible coincidence, but you know what? This shoot was meant to be!”
* * *
As we worked, I found myself thinking and agreeing with Emerson’s assessment: it was meant to be.
I really liked Lila’s confidence. The girl from high school couldn’t even maintain eye contact with anyone, yet here she was, looking directly into the camera and owning everyone and everything in the room. The curvy brunette was exceptional. I was turned on by how sexy she was naturally, living through my lens in a way that no other woman had before her.
And as I worked, my mind spun. What was I going to say to Lila after the shoot? I wanted to see if she’d want to get drinks or go do something fun, but it seemed a little creepy. So how to manage this?
Once our Saturday session had concluded and she’d gotten fully dressed again, I called her over casually.
“Hey, some buddies of mine and I were all going to hang out, have some drinks, play some video games, chilling,” I told her. “Would you be interested in joining us tonight?”
“Video games?” she asked wryly. “Do I look like a video game person?”
I stopped short. No, in fact she didn’t. But Lila saw my consternation and laughed lightly again.
“Just kidding, I would love to,” she said. “Text me the address. What time should I come over?”
“Let’s say eight-thirty,” I growled.
“Awesome.” She smiled sassily. “Well, bye now. I’ll see you tonight!”
And with that, the brunette sashayed out. Man, this woman had me by the balls, and it was only day one. I was also instantly annoyed, knowing that if I did actually invite over other friends for drinks, I would likely either get no time with her, or someone would try to cock-block me. Fuck. But one thing was clear even this early on … Lila was mine.