Chapter 5
Ashlyn
“Do you have any idea how much that camera cost?” My boss’s assistant, Prudy, asks.
“A lot?” I cringe. It’s a terrible answer, but it’s all I've got because I know how fucked I am right now.
“So I owe the company a couple grand,” I say, chewing on my pencil. I don’t know why I’m holding a pencil. I saw Prudy coming and reached for something to fidget with. Troy already stole the fidget spinner my therapist gave me, so a pencil was the best I could find.
“Eight. Thousand. Dollars,” she snaps.
“Yikes,” I cringe again.
“Yikes is right,” she says. “And when Deborah finds out that you lost it, you’re going to lose your job. And if you lose your job, I’m going to lose my job because I’m the one that told her that out of all the applicants, you looked the most promising.”
“And I am eternally grateful for that,” I tell her.
What I’m not telling her is that I didn’t lose my camera in Zane Calloway’s backyard.
It got hung up on his pergola when I fell into his hot tub trying to get a million-dollar shot.
And then, of course, he smashed my camera into a billion pieces, but I don’t think Prudy needs to know that.
She narrows her eyes at me and then stands up straight to pat down her pencil skirt. “All I am saying is when Deborah gets here, I wouldn’t wanna be you.”
With that, she turns and walks away, heels clicking on the marble flooring. I take in a deep breath and let it out. Then I hear office chair wheels coming up behind me.
“Who pissed in her Cheerios?” My friend Alice asks as she suddenly, but not so quietly appears behind me.
“Same person as always, I am sure,” Troy says, rolling into my cubicle as well, actively playing with my fidget spinner.
Troy and Alice have been my allies at Sigma magazine since day one.
They let me know the ins and outs of the paparazzi world: the good, not so good, and the downright ugly.
They’re also a low-key couple. I call it low-key because while there doesn’t seem to be a lot of romantic chemistry between them, they’re outwardly together.
Alice claimed Troy long ago, and they will die a couple, happily ever after or otherwise.
“What happened last night, anyways?” Alice asks.
“I broke my camera.”
“Wait,” Troy says. “Weren’t you supposed to be getting photos of Zane Calloway?”
“God, I was so jealous when you got assigned that job,” Alice groans.
“Oh my god,” Troy cuts in again before I can say anything. “Were you the photographer who took those promiscuous photos of him and that girl?”
“I…”
“Wait…” Alice says, and I feel myself spiraling as they connect the dots.
“Oh my god,” Troy says, the fidgeter coming to a standstill.
“Are you the girl?” Alice asks.
“She’s the girl,” Troy says.
“Oh my god,” Alice says.
“Oh my god,” Troy echos.
Oh my god.
Then it hits me.
“Wait…what photos?” I ask. I was taking photos last night, but they were ruined before I could do anything with them. And from the sound of it–
“There are photos of me?” I ask.
“And Zane Calloway,” Troy finishes.
Alice pulls out her phone and types a couple of things in before handing it off to me.
“Oh my god!” I parrot for the thousandth time. “That’s me!”
“And Zane Calloway,” Troy says again.
“Who took these?!” I ask, scrolling through them.
“That’s what we were going to ask you,” Troy says.
“You don’t know?” Alice whispers.
“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“Holy shit,” Troy says.
And holy shit is right. While my face is too pixelated in the photos to give away my identity, it doesn’t change the fact that it is me. For all the world to see.
“Okay, wait,” Alice says as they both roll their chairs so close to me that all six of our knees are touching. “We need to know everything.”
It’s funny that they should mention that.
Because I feel like I need to know everything, too.
I start at the beginning because, as co-workers go, I know I can trust these two.
For one, they understand the industry. And for two, they know who Zane Calloway is.
He’s one of the sexiest models on the planet, and I don’t say that lightly.
Honestly, even before I took this job, I had a little celebrity crush on him.
And by little, I mean…he was my hall pass.
So I tell my friends everything. Because who, in the world we actually live in, actually gets to sleep with their hall pass? No one, that’s who.
“So wait,” Troy says as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes with a smile. “So when did he go all caveman on your camera?”
“Before or after he fucked you within an inch of your life?” Alice asks.
“Before,” I say. “Because he didn’t want the photos getting out.”
They both spit out laughs at that. “There are photos that almost reveal his Brad Pitt behind–” Alice says.
“Among other things.” Troy adds with a man giggle.
“And he was worried about a couple photos you snapped of him doing laps in a pool?” Alice asks.
“I think he broke the camera to prove a point,” I say.
“What point?” Alice laughs. “That his biceps aren’t just for show?”
“That he doesn’t like people sneaking around on his property,” I say.
“So, to drive his point further…” Troy says.
“He drove his dick into your–” Alice goes on, and I clear my throat as the mail cart passes my cubicle.
“The bottom line is,” I whisper yell. “I might have lost my job all because while I had the one and only one-night stand of my entire life, someone was out there taking photos of us.”
“Do you have any known enemies?” Alice asks, and Prudy walks by again, glaring at both of us.
“I don’t think so.” I answer, racking my brain. “I mean, there is my ex-husband.”
“Yeah, but I can’t see him traipsing through the rose bushes to get photos of you having sex with another man.” Troy says.
“Isn’t he married again?” Alice asks.
“Yeah,” I answer. “But I’m pretty sure she’s too busy trying to have his babies to care who I’m sleeping with.” I say, and we all agree.
We go quiet for a moment as I rack my brain.
Then, I start thinking about all the details of last night and not the ones about who the other photographer could have been.
My eyes glass over and a smirk tugs at my lips as I think about the other, more prevalent details of last night.
The ones I’ll never forget and make me feel the need to cross my legs.
“Ashlyn!” someone snaps, and it rips me from my daydream.
“What? Yes, sorry. Who?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“There is someone here to see you,” Mark from the front desk says, and this man is looking ruffled. More than usual, too.
“Who?” I ask.
“It’s Zane Calloway.” Mark says, and Alice gasps.
“What?” I ask, standing up.
“He’s waiting outside,” Mark says, and all of us rush to the window to look down at the parking lot. Sure enough, there’s a Corvette down there. The same one I saw last night when I walked out of his house.
“Why does Zane Calloway want to talk to me?” I ask.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Mark mutters.
I wait a moment and then realize I have to go talk to him. He’s not the type of man who takes no for an answer. I learned that last night.
I make my way towards the elevator, trying my best to make sense of the crazy plot that has somehow become my life.