Chapter 10
BERNADETTE
The first photoshoot location was breathtaking.
I wished I could simply enjoy it rather than look for all the hazards.
It was a stretch of coastline where black volcanic rock met turquoise water.
There were dramatic cliffs rising up from the beach, which was where the shoot was happening.
It was the kind of place that photographers dreamed about, the kind of natural drama that made everything look just a little better.
It was also a safety nightmare.
I’d arrived at the location almost an hour before the call time. I wanted to scope things out before the crew showed up. The paths were uneven. The rocks were slippery in places from sea spray. Those cliffs—those gorgeous, photogenic cliffs—had crumbling edges and no safety barriers whatsoever.
It was the perfect scene for a murder mystery. I could see it in my mind’s eye. A woman wearing a billowing dress is walking along the cliffs with the violent sea below. It’s windy and out of nowhere someone pushes her. Just a tiny push or slip and it would be game over.
The wind wasn’t blowing and the sea wasn’t churning, but the mechanics were the same. I had no idea if the models were going to be wearing heels. I was sure they were confident in their stability, but I wasn’t.
By seven when everyone started arriving, I had already documented a dozen potential issues in my notebook. Then Sebastian showed up.
He stumbled out of one of the vans wearing sunglasses despite the early hour, clutching an energy drink like it was keeping him alive.
His hair was disheveled in a way that could either be artfully styled or he’d just rolled out of bed.
Given the slight wince when someone spoke too loudly near him, I was betting on the latter.
He was absolutely hungover.
And he wasn’t the only one. Half the crew looked like they’d been up all night, which they probably had. I heard the party from my room. Annika and I stayed in. I had put in earplugs and tried to ignore it, telling myself that what they did on their own time wasn’t my concern.
Except now it was. They were supposed to be sharp and safety-aware but everyone looked like death warmed over. That was the last thing we needed for a cliffside shoot.
I was going to give myself a stroke. I could feel my blood pressure skyrocketing. I was too young to have high blood pressure like this.
I watched the crew set up. They all seemed to know what they were doing.
They didn’t talk much, but there were a lot of grunts and gestures.
And a lot of coffee. And Red Bull. I monitored every cup and can to make sure nothing got tossed anywhere but in the trashcan.
I didn’t bitch or scold. I simply picked things up and quietly put them in the right place.
Being the fun police on day one wouldn’t win me any allies. I needed these people to at least tolerate me if I was going to do my job effectively. Then Sebastian decided to put Clarissa on the edge of the cliff.
The cliff I had already made the star of my murder movie. I didn’t believe in premonitions, but really? Why did my imagination have to conjure up the exact scene that was unfolding in front of me?
Because I’m good at my job. That’s why.
“Okay, beautiful,” he called out to the model, who looked stunning in one of Elizabeth’s designs. It was a flowing dress in shades of blue that was truly stunning. “I want you to go stand right on that edge. As close as you can get. We want that dramatic drop behind you. I want to feel the danger.”
I felt my blood pressure spike so high I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I crossed the rocks quickly, trying not to slip. I pulled Sebastian aside by his elbow. He lowered his head, peering at me over the top of his sunglasses.
“This wasn’t in any of the documentation your company sent over,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Standing on cliff edges requires specific safety protocols. Harnesses, anchors, proper assessment of the rock stability.”
“I didn’t send you guys anything,” he interrupted, pulling off his sunglasses to look at me directly.
His eyes were definitely bloodshot. “I have no idea what they sent over. Some intern probably threw together a basic shot list. I’m an artist, Bernadette.
I work with the moment. The light, the location, the inspiration. You’ll have to learn to adapt.”
“I can adapt if you give me time to prepare,” I said, hearing my voice rise slightly. Professional, stay professional. “But I haven’t scouted this specific location. I don’t know if that cliff edge is even structurally sound enough to hold a person.”
“Well, Clarissa weighs about as much as a child,” he said, glancing over at the model. “Or maybe a medium-sized dog. If anything, I’m more worried about the wind taking her away in that dress like a kite. Do you think we should put some ankle weights on her?”
He was smiling, like the safety of another human being was a joke.
“This isn’t funny,” I said flatly.
“Come on, lighten up a little.”
“I will not lighten up. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”
“Relax,” he said in a way that made me want to put my thumbs in his eyes and my knee in his crotch.
Relax. The word every man says when he wants a woman to shut up and stop being difficult. Relax. Like my concerns were just hysteria. Like my professional judgment was just me being uptight.
When would men learn that stupid word was the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull?
But I kept from exploding. I was a professional, no matter how hard this man pushed my buttons. I would prove my point, not with anger but with evidence.
I looked around and spotted a fallen branch near the rocks—nothing huge, maybe two inches in diameter and about four feet long.
I picked it up and walked toward the cliff edge, very aware that everyone was watching now.
Everyone stopped fussing with the models’ makeup and dress.
No one was messing around with light shields and camera equipment.
They were all watching me. Good. Let them all see.
I reached the edge of the cliff where Sebastian had wanted Clarissa to stand. The drop was at least thirty feet to the rocks and water below. Beautiful. Deadly.
I raised the branch like Gandalf with his staff and slammed it down onto the ground near the edge.
Bits of rock crumbled away. Not a lot—not like the whole cliff was collapsing—but enough.
Enough to show that the edge was unstable.
Enough to prove that putting someone’s full weight there, especially someone in heels, was criminally negligent.
It didn’t matter if she weighed fifty pounds or five hundred—danger was danger.
“Oh my God,” Clarissa’s voice came from behind me, high and trembling. “I could have died. I could have actually died.”
I turned to see her backing away from the cliff, her eyes wide with fear. Tears were already streaming down her face, cutting tracks through her carefully applied makeup.
“Clarissa, wait,” Sebastian said.
But she was already running, fleeing toward the model tent that had been set up in a shaded area away from the shoot. I heard her sobbing as she went.
Sebastian whirled on me, his jaw tight. “What the hell was that?”
“That was me preventing a potential fatality. You’re welcome.”
“That was you scaring one of my models! Do you know how long it’s going to take me to coax her back out here? I’ll have to bribe her with green juice and a Vogue cover just to get her to stop crying!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t put people in danger in the first place!” My voice was rising now, professional calm crumbling away like the cliff’s edge. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You don’t think about consequences.”
“I’m trying to create art here!”
“Showing up hungover and making things up as you go isn’t art!” The words exploded out of me before I could stop them. “It’s irresponsible! It’s exactly what everyone was afraid you would do! You’re proving every single person who doubted you absolutely right!”
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
They hit Sebastian like I was throwing actual daggers at him.
I could practically see him flinch when the sharp edges sliced into his gorgeous body.
His cocky exterior cracked, and for just a second, I saw something underneath—something hurt and vulnerable and raw.
His jaw tightened and his eyes went hard. But not before I saw the flash of pain.
“Fuck this,” he said quietly. “Everyone take fifteen!”
He stormed off in the opposite direction from where Clarissa had gone, heading toward a tent further down the trail. I could see the set of his shoulders. Gone was the cocky swagger. He was pissed.
And every single person on that crew turned to stare at me.
The photographers looked disgusted. The lighting crew shook their heads. One of the other models, Tempest, actually mouthed the word “bitch” at me.
I stood there, still holding the branch, feeling like I’d just kicked a puppy in front of a crowd of animal lovers.
“Bernadette.”
I turned to find Annika approaching, her expression calm, but I could definitely see anger flashing in her eyes. She’d been overseeing the wardrobe setup, but she’d clearly witnessed the whole thing.
“Was I out of line?” I asked her quietly, even though I knew the answer. I had been. I’d been right about the safety issue, but I’d delivered it in the worst possible way.
Annika sighed and guided me away from the staring crew members, toward a quieter spot near some rocks.
“I know you have a job to do,” she said gently.
“And you’re right to be concerned about safety.
But Sebastian has a job to do too. He’s under enormous pressure to make this campaign successful.
His family is counting on him. Elizabeth is counting on him.
And if you two can’t figure out how to work together, this whole shoot will fail. ”
“He wanted to put that girl on a crumbling cliff edge,” I protested.
“And you were right to stop him. But there are ways to handle these situations that don’t involve humiliating him in front of his entire crew. He’s one of them. He’s a model, and for him to suddenly be the boss, it’s hard enough. He needs them to respect him.”
I looked down at the branch in my hands and tossed it away.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admitted quietly. “I’ve never been in the field like this. I usually work from an office, reviewing documentation, and writing policies. I’m not good at… people.”
“You just need to remember that everyone here wants the same thing. We all want a successful shoot where no one gets hurt. You and Sebastian are on the same team, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.
A safe, successful shoot can be fun as well.
It doesn’t need to be so uptight. I think a private conversation would help eliminate a lot of this tension. ”
I sighed and shook my head. “He doesn’t listen to me.”
“And you don’t trust him. So you’re at an impasse.” She squeezed my arm. “Talk to him. Really talk to him, not at him. Figure out how to communicate. Otherwise, these two weeks are going to be miserable for everyone.”
She walked away to check on Clarissa, leaving me alone with my regret. I’d hurt him. I’d meant to stop him from making a dangerous decision, but I’d hurt him in the process.
And now the entire crew hated me.
Day one wasn’t even started, and I’d already become the villain.
Annika was right. I needed to figure out how to work with Sebastian, not against him.
I just had no idea how to do that without compromising the safety standards that were the entire reason I was here.
Two weeks suddenly felt like an eternity.