Chapter 23
SEBASTIAN
Iwas nervous to tell her, which was stupid because it was a good idea. A great idea, actually. But after the whole paragliding and tigers debacle at our first meeting, I didn’t want her to shoot it down before I even explained it properly.
The water gently rippled around us. I had very subtly slid my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me. If I slid that ugly bathing suit to the side, I could slide inside her.
But I couldn’t. And my dick needed to get the message. It was a no-go zone.
“What is it?” she asked even as her hand slid up my thigh just a little higher. If she kept going, she was going to find a surprise.
I needed to focus. I carefully shifted so we were back to being side by side. Shoulder to shoulder.
“It’s my idea for the final shoot before the runway show.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s dramatic. Artistic. Maybe a little ambitious.”
“Sebastian.” She gave me a look that said get to the point.
“Just tell me. As long as your new idea isn’t paragliding tigers, I’m willing to hear you out and try working with it.
I’ve come to see you truly are an artist. I’m learning to trust you.
Now you have to trust that you can tell me and we can try to figure out the logistics. ”
She trusted me? Wow. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever said they trusted me before.
“Are you familiar with Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus?”
Her mouth dropped open. Actually dropped open. She stared at me like I just told her I wanted to do the shoot on the moon.
“What?” I asked.
“In a million years,” she said slowly, “I never would have guessed that’s what you were going to say.”
And just like that, I was pissed. “Why? Because I’m an airhead model? I can’t possibly know about one of the most famous paintings in human history? I must only know about protein shakes and selfie angles, right? I’m only good at smiling pretty and looking good.”
Her cheeks flushed red. She looked away, guilty silence confirming everything.
“Fine,” I said, pulling my hands away from her. “Forget it. My idea is for the models to get their tits out holding a beer and a surfboard. Is that more what you expected from dumb Sebastian?”
“Sebastian.” Her hand shot out, grabbing mine underwater, holding tight. “I’m sorry. That was shitty of me. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
I wanted to stay angry, but her grip on my hand and the genuine regret in her eyes made it impossible.
I might be a little overly sensitive. I was so used to being dismissed.
I knew I did it to myself, but damn, it got old.
I was so tired of being looked at like I had nothing going on above the shoulders.
“I do know about art,” I said. “I’ve modeled for enough photographers and designers to have picked up a thing or two. And I spent a semester in Florence when I was twenty-two. Saw the Uffizi Gallery. The Birth of Venus is perfect. That’s what I want to recreate.”
Bernadette’s expression had shifted from guilty to interested. “You want to shoot one of the models emerging from the water.”
“Exactly. In one of Elizabeth’s swimsuits. Rising up from the ocean like Venus from her shell. We would need the right location, the right light, the right angle. But if we can pull it off?” I could see it in my mind and wanted so desperately to make it come to life. “It would be iconic.”
“What kind of safety concerns are there?” she asked. I could see her brain already working through the logistics. “Is it doable in a couple days, or am I about to tell you you’re crazy?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
She bit her lip, thinking. “I need to chew on it. But it should be doable. The main issues would be water depth, current strength, and the stability of whatever platform or rocks she’d be standing on. We’d also need to get a permit from the Miratoan government to film in the water like that.”
“A permit? Why? People are in the water all the time. It’s a beach.”
“Because the government is very particular and they are keeping a close eye on your operation in general. We’ll have to find the location and then put together a safety and environmental report.
Then we have to submit it for approval. If we’re going to do this in two days, we need to get moving. Like, now.”
She squeezed my hand that I just realized she was still holding. She was genuinely enthused about this. She was actually excited to help me pull off something ambitious.
“We should go,” she said, already pulling me toward the edge of the pool. “We need to start looking at potential locations, draft the environmental impact statement.”
“Right now?” I laughed. “Bernadette, it’s nine-thirty.”
“So? We have internet. We have maps. We can at least start researching locations and figure out what we need to submit.” She was practically bouncing with energy. “Come on. Your bungalow has the laptop with all the location files, right?”
I let her pull me out of the pool, both of us dripping water. She grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself, and looked at me expectantly.
“You want to go do paperwork,” I said. “Right now.”
“Yes. I want to go do paperwork. I want to make your artistic vision come to life safely and legally.”
It was cute as hell. Most people in my life wanted things from me. Wanted access to my family’s money or connections or wanted to be seen with me at clubs or parties. They wanted me to get them modeling gigs or introduce them to photographers.
Bernadette wanted to help me fill out government forms. And somehow, that was more touching than anything else anyone had ever offered.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go do some sexy paperwork.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. We walked back to my bungalow together while keeping a safe distance.
Fuck, I might be falling for this girl for real.
Back in my bungalow, we spread out at the small dining table with my laptop and Bernadette’s tablet. She’d gone back to her room to change into dry clothes—unfortunately—and returned in shorts and a T-shirt that said “Safety First” which was so perfectly her that I had to hide my smile.
“Okay,” she said, pulling up a map of Miratoa on her tablet. “We need somewhere with no coral reefs, minimal tourist traffic, and ideally protected from strong currents.”
I opened the folder of location scouts we’d done before the trip. “What about here?” I pointed to a cove on the north side of the island. “We scouted it as a backup location. Private beach, calm water.”
She zoomed in on the map, checking something on a different website. “That’s in a marine protected zone. We’d need special permission, and even then, they might not allow a commercial shoot.”
“Damn.”
We went through location after location. Too rocky. Too deep. Too close to a reef. Too popular with tourists. Each one had something that made it unworkable.
“This is harder than I thought,” I admitted, rubbing my eyes. We’d been at it for over an hour.
“Good ideas usually are.” She pulled up another map view.
“I need to lie down,” I said.
We ended up sitting on my bed, legs stretched out and pillows behind us as we continued to search for the elusive perfect location.
“Wait. What about this area?” She pointed to a spot on the eastern coast. “It’s marked as a shallow lagoon, protected by a natural breakwater. If the bottom is sandy it could work.”
I cross-referenced it with our scout photos. “We didn’t check this one out. It was too far from the main shooting locations.”
“We should look at it tomorrow morning. First thing. If it works, I can start drafting the environmental impact statement while you’re shooting, and we can submit it by end of day tomorrow.”
“You can write one that fast?”
“I’ve done a few.” She smiled. “One of the perks of working in specialty insurance. You learn all kinds of random useless skills.”
I watched her work, her brow furrowed in concentration, completely absorbed in solving this problem for me. Her hair was pulled back with a clip, and a few strands had escaped to frame her face. She was beautiful.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked without looking up from her tablet.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You have a weird expression.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
About how I’m falling for you. About how you make me want more than one night together. About how I’ve never met anyone who gets this excited about environmental impact statements.
“About how lucky I am to have you on this shoot,” I said instead.
She looked up, meeting my eyes. “I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“I say nice things, Little Bee.”
“You say charming things. There’s a difference.” She held my gaze. “That felt genuine.”
“It was genuine.”
“Thank you. For asking for my help. For trusting me with your idea.”
“Thank you for not shooting it down immediately. And for not making fun of me for knowing about Botticelli.”
She laughed softly. “I really am sorry about that.”
“I know.”
Silence settled over us as we went back to work.
I opened my mouth to say something and glanced over to see her head tilted to the side at an awkward angle. She’d fallen asleep.
She looked so peaceful. Beautiful.
Fuck, I’m definitely falling for her.
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me too, feeling at peace with her at my side.