Chapter 2
Chapter Two
MAX
“Is that lipgloss on your neck?” Aspen asks, squinting at the side of my throat. My hand rushes to cover my flesh, and I feel the sticky remnants. Yes, that is definitely lipgloss.
“Uhhh!” I try to wipe it off, but it’s just sticky, and now my fingers smell like cherries.
“Oh my God, it totally is! And you’re blushing like crazy! Whose is it?!” Aspen asks.
We’ve been friends longer than I can remember, but she still doesn’t know about Cari.
At first, it was out of convenience, and at this point, it just feels weird to bring it up.
I’m not the type to kiss and tell, so why would I mention it?
I rub my hands on the back of a napkin she hands me and clean the rest of my neck.
Aspen must see my face because she quickly says, “It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready.”
“It’s just not a big deal. If it turns into something, you’ll be the first to know.
” I say. And I mean it too, if I were going to tell anyone about my relationships or one-night stands, it would be her.
If she can hold my hand while I cry after being left at the altar, our friendship can handle anything.
“Okay.” She nods.
“So, tell me about Italy.” I sit in her makeup chair as she sets up her station.
Aspen is also the makeup artist I usually have on set, and we were both here early for the shoot.
I’d already set up the cameras and the backdrop while she was setting out all the makeup she’d be using on the table in front of her.
I knew she was a multitasker, so I sip my black coffee and listen as she talks.
“It was so amazing! We spent so much time exploring the city, experiencing the culture, and eating amazing food. It was so romantic.” She smiles. Aspen and River have been married for less than two years, but in that time they’ve moved in together and traveled all over.
“Did you see the Lizzie McGuire stage?” I tease.
“Of course! But it looks bigger in person.” She laughs.
“And River had fun, I assume?” River is Cari’s best friend, another reason why I didn’t want to say anything to Aspen about us. Not that I thought she couldn’t keep a secret, but I didn’t want to ask her to keep something from her wife.
“Oh yeah, we went swimming, and she ate everything. I think the worst part was the flight; she’s not the biggest fan of flying, but she’s slowly getting past it,” Aspen explains.
“Very nice.” I smile.
“OH! Did you get the invitation to our Halloween party?” She squeals, turning to face me.
“Yeah, are costumes really mandatory?” I wince. I couldn’t remember the last time I dressed up for Halloween, let alone celebrated it.
“Yes. Trust me, River is going to be at the door and turning away anyone who doesn’t have a costume.”
“No, she’s not.” I stare at Aspen.
“I might convince her otherwise, but she’s very serious about the costumes. She says it makes it more fun. Please say you’ll try to find something.” She pleads with her dark eyes.
“Fine, but I’m not promising it’s going to be something crazy. Can’t I just wear my normal clothes and go as a photographer?” I smirk hoping it’ll work but her face doesn’t budge.
“My wife will kick you out, and I have to say, if you show up in your normal clothes for your regular job, I’ll be agreeing with her.”
I sigh. “Fine. But I’m going to need extra candy provided if I’m expected to buy a whole costume.”
“If you think my wife isn’t going all out and buying literally every candy known to man, you do not know her well enough.” She laughs.
“Max?” a voice shouts, peeking open the studio doors.
“In here!” I call back. Slurping back the rest of my coffee, I toss the cup in the garbage as I jump up to meet the models.
I’ve been hired by a small bridal shop in the city to create some ads for their upcoming spring line. They want to bring in more customers and hope to do so by using a social media campaign.
Aspen and I have teamed up many times, and at this point, she’s here more often than not.
It’s easier when she’s here, and she often understands the look I’m going for without me having to say much.
She doesn’t get in the way when it comes to touch-ups, and she’s supportive as hell when my impostor syndrome kicks in.
There are only three models, but I had insisted on choosing them. They wanted to spend the money hiring Instagram ‘models’, but despite Cari being the one exception, Instagram ‘models’ are the worst.
They always insist on messing with my lighting, taking their own photos on a freaking iPhone. Like hello, I have the latest and greatest technology with my Canon EOS 5D Mark IV, but sure, let’s use a camera the size of a dime.
Plus, they often act like I am their servant while I am trying to do my job. And don’t get me started on how they treat Aspen, always insisting on doing their own makeup.
I’m sorry, I may know next to nothing about makeup, but no way does a three-minute TikTok tutorial know more than Aspen does. So, I insisted on saving their money and using unknown models who would also do the clothing justice.
The other thing I love about this company is that, while it mostly sells wedding dresses, it also has more masculine bridal wear. Suits, two-piece attires that aren’t only tuxedoes and things I can see my friends wearing.
“I set up an outfit in each of my stalls, if you can each find your name and get dressed. Then Aspen will do your makeup, and we can get started,” I explain.
I look around at the three models: Sara, who is tall and thin with striking features and light eyes, Maria, who is short with curves for days and dark hair, and Taylor, who is dark-skinned and average height, with more masculine features like myself.
I hoped that with a diverse set of women, I’d be able to capture people’s attention online and make the designs sell.
They all head to the stalls in the back of the studio, curtains separating each other so the models can get dressed in private.
I never understood why that wasn’t always accessible.
I’ve watched enough seasons of America’s Next Top Model, and was horrified at how the models were treated.
I always promised myself I’d make sure they felt just as comfortable as I was.
Maria is dressed first, and Aspen places a cape around her neck to protect the clothes from any makeup debris. Before Aspen, I’d always dressed the models after makeup, but it makes more sense to have her do it when they are already dressed.
They were all told to come with their hair up in tight buns so the focus could be on the clothing. I know Aspen will fly through their makeup, and I can start soon.
I head over to where the shoot is set up.
It’s a plain background since the focus is on the clothes.
I can always superimpose something later if need be, but this gives us options.
I adjust the camera’s settings to ensure it’s correctly set up.
Even though I’d touched it barely half an hour ago.
It’s just easier to check instead of worrying about it.
I do a final walkthrough of the set and make sure there’s nothing I’m missing.
Sara and Taylor are done getting dressed, waiting for Aspen to do their makeup.
“I know we haven’t worked together before, so I just want to say thank you for being here.
This is my studio, so if anyone needs water or a break, please just give me a shout.
I want you to be as comfortable as heck here.
I don’t think I even introduced myself, but I’m Max, the photographer.
” I smile and look at each of the women.
“That’s so refreshing to hear,” Sara sighs.
“Is there anything we should know before we get started?” Taylor asks.
“I think you’ve all read the call sheet, but basically, this is for a local bridal shop.
They’re queer and women-owned and trying to reach more people to buy their bridal attire.
We want to have the focus on the outfits, maybe a few romantic poses, but otherwise we are showcasing the clothes and accessories,” I explain.
The three of them nod, and I smile. “If we don’t take any breaks, I don’t see this taking more than two hours, but if we do, maybe three at most? So it should be an easy day.”
The women all nod, and I look at Aspen, who shrugs. I guess they are shy, which is a weird trait for a model. But thinking about how I’ve seen shoots in the past, it’s possible they’re afraid to be too outspoken.
Some photographers act like they’re God’s gift to the world and don’t value their models’ input. There’s a fine line between them trying to take over and being too afraid to say anything. I give them some space to finish getting ready and head to the bathroom.
I pee quickly and, looking in the mirror, run my fingers through my hair. My phone buzzes in my front pocket and I check my texts.
CARI: *1 attachment*
CARI: *1 attachment*
CARI: *1 attachment*
I open the images and lean on the sink to catch my breath.
I shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow I am.
The pictures are of Cari half-naked on her bed.
She’s wearing a lace bra and a thong, leaning into the camera for one, the other, just of her body, and the last, of her ass.
Holy fuck. Cari always looks good, but when she pops up on my phone like this, she looks a little wild.
She knows I’m working, but she likes to tease me.
I think she likes knowing I’m turned on because of her.
ME: Holy fuck
CARI: Thinking about u…
CARI: Thinking about last night…
CARI: * 1 video*
Before I can reply, she’s sending a video. I click on it against my better judgment and her moans fill the bathroom. She’s laying in her bed, hand in her thong, fingering her pussy and moaning for me. Fuck. Now she’s asking for trouble. She’s lucky no one else is around to see that. Or hear it.
ME: You’re killing me
CARI: That’s the plan
CARI: See me later?
ME: Working late. Maybe tomorrow?
Cari texts me back, but I flip my phone to silent and drop it into my pocket. It was a lame lie, but I have a rule about seeing her more than one night in a row.
We used to hang out all the time, hooking up, going out, until things got too complicated. She wanted more than I could handle, and it got too messy. I didn’t need drama, so when she asked to hook up again, I was down. But I promised myself I wouldn’t let her get so close this time.
I didn’t want a relationship with anyone, not now anyway. There was a time when I thought I’d found the one and was going to get my happy ending, but now I’m just trying to stay away from all that. It’s much easier doing my own thing, getting laid when I want, and focusing on my career.
Cari’s video replays in my head, but I push it out.
I need to focus on work. Not on how good she tastes or whether she’s sending that video to anyone else.
We aren’t exclusive, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d hooked up with me and someone else.
Which is also why I’m staying as far away from relationships as I can possibly get.