Chapter Twelve Allegra #2
I don’t get a chance to text Cord back for the rest of the night, but I fully plan to tell him there’s no need for him to come with me to my sister’s wedding.
Then I imagine what he must look like in a tux and I sort of forget to send the text at all.
Tuesday afternoon after rehearsal and class, I show up to another random address, and for the first time wonder if Cord has really steered me wrong.
It’s a brick building on the West Side Highway, and if it weren’t for the fact that I don’t think he would put me in danger, I might not go in because it has sketchy warehouse vibes written all over it.
But eventually I make my way inside and up to the third floor, to the suite number Cord directed me to. I open the heavy black door and find myself in a large studio. Not one for dancing, as I expected, but one for photography.
Golden afternoon light streams in through the windows that line an entire wall, and assorted cameras and photography equipment are scattered throughout.
The door slams shut behind me with a thud so loud that I jump.
A white person with a bright pink pixie cut emerges from what could be some kind of darkroom, and a wide smile spreads across their face when they see me standing there. “You must be Allegra.”
Yet another person who knows me, and I have no clue who they might be. At least I’m fairly certain this person isn’t related to Cord.
“That’s me.” I stick out my hand.
They slide their palm into mine and give me a firm shake. “Ava. They/them. I’ll be your photographer today.”
My eyebrows rise, because even though it’s fairly obvious what this place is, I still don’t know what I’m here for.
Ava laughs, tucking their arm in mine and leading me farther into the space. “I take it Cord didn’t give you many details?”
“It seems to be a pattern with him.”
“Well, I’m a photographer, obviously.” They pull me into the far corner of the room, where sunlight highlights one of the only pieces of furniture: a bed. “And I specialize in boudoir shoots.”
I suck in a breath. Of all the things I could have expected, this was not on the list. “To be clear, what that means is…?”
“You’re going to put on some killer lingerie I picked out just for you.” Ava turns my gaze to a rack holding several scraps of lace and not much else. “And I’m going to take a bunch of pictures of you in it.”
“Right.” I nod my head, repeatedly, as if that will make this all make sense.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Cord told me a little bit about what the two of you are doing, and why, and I know the thought of this can be a little overwhelming and intimidating, but I think if you give it an honest shot, you might find that it really helps.
” They lead me over to the rack of lingerie.
“I work with a lot of people and one of my goals is to make everyone feel powerful and sexy in their own skin. And this is a one hundred percent judgment-free zone.”
“Do you share the photos with anyone?”
“Not without your permission.”
“Not even Cord?” I have to imagine he’s paying Ava for this session, and I have to clarify if that entitles him to see the finished product.
For some reason, the thought of him seeing me half naked and posed on a bed doesn’t terrify me in the way it probably should, but I still need the reassurance that he won’t have access to the photos without my permission.
“Not even Cord.”
I half-heartedly flip through the pieces of fancy underwear Ava has chosen for me. “I don’t think I’m going to be any good at this.”
They squeeze my shoulder. “There’s no way to be good or bad at it. This is just a chance for you to express yourself.” They rifle through the rack and hand me one of the pieces that has a bit more coverage. “Plus, you get to keep any of the pieces we end up using.”
That’s not the selling point Ava thinks it is, but I take the lacy bodysuit from them anyway. “All right. Let’s do this, I guess.”
As much as I hate to admit it, Cord has yet to steer me wrong in this whole “make Allegra appear to be sexy” endeavor, so if he thinks this is a good idea, then I’m willing to give it a shot.
The worst thing that can happen is I embarrass myself in front of Ava, and at least I never have to see them again.
Ava directs me to the bathroom, where I change into the lingerie and slip into the soft cotton robe they provided.
When I emerge from the bathroom, we’ve been joined by a hair and makeup person, who does quick work in making me look glamorous but not overly done.
They take off as soon as they’re finished, so it’s just me and Ava left in the studio.
They direct me over to the bed, and for a minute, just have me sit while they position the lighting and check angles and do a bunch of other technical things.
Then they come over to the bed and instruct me to lie down in the center.
Ava musses up the sheets, making them look as if I’ve just rolled around in the bed.
“Okay, this looks great. Let’s work on your pose. ”
“What, you mean me lying here like a dead fish isn’t sexy?”
Ava laughs. “I promise, Allegra, by the end of the next hour, you’re going to feel hotter than you ever have in your life.
Is it okay if I touch you?” When I nod, they bring up one of my legs so the foot of one leg is tucked near my knee on the other.
They raise both arms over my head and bend my arms at the elbows.
“Now arch your back and look off to the left. And hold that pose.”
Ava grabs their camera and the room is filled with the clicks of shots. They move all around me, shooting me from every angle, even climbing onto the edge of the bed and shooting me from above.
I try to follow Ava’s direction to relax and breathe normally, but my muscles feel stiff and awkward.
“So Cord tells me you’re a ballerina?”
I nod, still holding tight to the pose they arranged me in.
Ava smiles. “You can talk, in fact it sometimes helps relax your facial muscles. What made you want to be a dancer?”
“I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a dancer, honestly. My mom put me in my first class when I was three and I never looked back.”
Ava checks the screen of the camera before directing me into a new pose. “Wow. That’s impressive. Sounds like you’ve been very dedicated to your craft.”
“I didn’t have a choice, in the beginning at least.” I shift my head so I’m not looking directly at the camera, waiting for Ava to scold me back into position.
But they don’t say anything, so I keep my gaze focused on the brick wall to my left.
“My mom made it pretty clear that ballet was going to be my thing, whether I liked it or not.” I shrug. “I guess it’s good I liked it.”
Ava moves the camera away from their face. “Do you think you would have stuck with it this long without her influence?”
I note their careful choice of words and wonder how many of these photo shoots turn into therapy sessions. “I’d like to think so, but I don’t really know.”
They snap a few more photos. “These look perfect.” Ava hops off the edge of the bed and looks at the screen of the camera. “Look how fantastic you look.” They show me the tiny screen.
I’m in a slight state of shock as they flip through the images they just captured. If I didn’t know that was me, I would have easily breezed right by those photos, assuming it was some gorgeous, self-confident model. “Holy shit.”
“And we’re just getting started. Once you learn these poses and the best angles, we’re going to be unstoppable.”
Ava directs me into the next pose, on my stomach with my feet kicked up behind me.
After that I do a wardrobe change, and after looking at another incredible round of photos, I start to feel like I might be getting the hang of this.
I pick a skimpier set of lingerie this time and follow Ava’s instructions when they tell me to get on my knees.
“Good. Now move around a bit while I’m shooting you, play with your hair, brush your fingers along your skin.”
I follow their instructions, amazed with how much more comfortable I feel after just twenty minutes of posing.
Ava pauses again, checking their camera, this time without showing me the results. “Do you happen to have your pointe shoes with you?”
I nod, digging them out of my bag. “Should I put them on?”
Their eyes light up and they rush over to the wardrobe rack, handing me a pale pink bra and panties. Even with my newfound disdain for the color pink, I can’t help but love this set. I dash into the bathroom to change before slipping into my pointe shoes.
“Is there any way to wrap the ribbon higher on your leg?” Ava asks.
I search my bag for extra ribbon. “I can sew on some longer strips. It’ll just take a minute.”
They watch me with interest as I work on the shoes. “Do you have to do that every time?”
I laugh. “Yup. You should see what we all do to prepare our shoes. Everyone has their own method.” I quickly sew on the ribbons and lace them halfway up my calf.
“Perfect,” Ava declares, leading me over to the window. “All right. Give me some moves.”
“Any moves in particular?”
“Try to keep it sexy of course, but really, just whatever comes to you.”
I take a minute to stretch out my ankles before going up on pointe.
I hear the camera clicking, but I tune Ava out and focus on my body.
I extend my arms and kick up my leg, giving her long lines and graceful movement.
Then I take the lessons she’s just taught me, bracing my hands on the window frame so I can arch my back.
“Fuck me these are fucking perfect!” Ava’s excitement pulls me back into the present.
I come down onto flat feet, breathing heavily even though I haven’t really exerted myself.
“Can I push you to do one more thing?”
I nod, at this point ready to give Ava my firstborn if that’s what they want. Ava works miracles, never before have I felt this good about myself, and the confidence feels like a drug. I want more.
Ava asks me to strip out of the bra and panties I’m wearing, and I do so without a hint of hesitation.
They angle me in front of the window once again, and it never occurs to me to be shy about the fact that I’m standing naked in front of a window overlooking the streets of New York.
They position my arm in a traditional ballet arch, making sure it covers my breasts.
I go up on pointe and the camera clicks into action once again. I know my butt will be fully visible in these shots, but I don’t even care. I worked hard for that butt.
“One more pose,” they tell me, guiding me back to the bed.
I lay down with my head pointing toward the foot of the bed, using the sheet to cover the lower bits, and kick my legs, pointe shoes and all, up against the headboard.
“Do you want to cover your breasts too?” Ava asks.
“No, let’s show them off.”
“Yes, love it. Your fifty-year-old self will thank you for capturing them in their naturally perky state.”
I laugh, hoping they’re right.
Five minutes later, Ava tells me we’re all done.
It’s been a little over an hour since I first set foot in the studio and yet, I feel like a different person.
I change back into my regular clothes and when I exit the bathroom, Ava hands me a gift bag with the pieces of lingerie I wore inside.
When they open their arms for a hug, I don’t hesitate to step into their embrace.
I don’t know where the tears come from, but Ava doesn’t seem thrown off by them. They reach for a tissue, and the box’s accessibility tells me I’m not the first one to cry in this room.
“Thank you, truly, Ava. That felt life-changing.”
“Just wait until you see the final results.” They give me a warm, wide smile. “I’ll do some light editing, pick the best shots, and send you the files within a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t wait to see them.” The surprising part is that it’s the truth. I thank them again, hug them again, and head out of the studio, with my sexy new pieces in tow. I might actually find an occasion to wear them, too.
I take out my phone and find Cord has already texted.
Cord: How did it go?
Me: That was incredible. Thank you so much for setting that up.
Cord: You’re welcome. I hope it helped.
Me: It did. I honestly have never felt sexier.
I can’t believe I just typed those words to him, but I don’t let myself linger in the self-doubt.
Cord: Good. You deserve to feel the way you look, Slippers.
Me: Did you just call me sexy?
Cord: Yes.
Cord: Unless that makes you uncomfortable, in which case I was just commenting on the task at hand.
I bite my lip to tamp down on the grin threatening to overtake my face.
Me: It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.
Cord: Good. Sweet dreams, Slippers.
Me: You too.