Beautiful Boy(5)

Her eyes only met mine briefly, but in that split second, I'd been able  to catch the color-an almost see-through blue. They were amazing, yet  she kept them focused on the carpet beneath my feet.

"My name is Novah." I extended my hand to her.

Without glancing up at me, she placed her tiny hand in mine and said  meekly, "Jennifer." Her voice softly floated through the air, her touch  even softer, almost absent.

"It's nice to meet you, Jennifer. Would you mind taking off your coat? I have an idea, but I need to see what size you are."

Her head snapped up, and fear blazed through her wide eyes as she gawked  at me. "I was only told to come here for some pictures. I really don't  want to, though. You're probably a very busy woman …  I shouldn't have  come." She abruptly stood, sidled around me, and headed for the exit.  The girl was clearly frightened and skittish.

But I had no idea why.

I caught up to her. My hand instinctively reached out and held onto  hers, keeping her from moving further away. "Please don't leave. I can't  make you stay, but I would love nothing more than to take your  picture."

"W-what do you have in mind?"

I wanted to hug her, to pull her into me and offer her comfort. Her  nerves were evident in the way her shoulders shook beneath the heavy  coat, and the way her eyes flickered about the room without landing on  anything significant. The way she chewed on her bottom lip reminded me  of a small child. I didn't know what had happened to this poor girl, and  I wasn't about to ask, but I experienced an intense desire to  photograph her. I became compelled to prove to her-and to Nolan-how  beautiful she was, despite society's depiction of the meaning.         

     



 

I decided to take her to a secluded beach at the end of Captiva Island.  It was about a forty-five-minute drive, but I knew from experience we  would have some privacy to photograph her in a bathing suit. Without  seeing her body, I could only assume the scars from her face extended  beyond the cover of her clothes. I knew it would be a feat to get her to  agree to wear a two-piece, but I wouldn't give up until she relented.

And to my amazement, she finally did.

Captiva had tourists, but not many, and the ones who did visit these  beaches tended to keep to themselves. It was the perfect place for the  seclusion I desired. And since I needed to gain her trust, I had to  offer her privacy.

After we arrived, she became introverted once more, and I had to talk  her down from the ledge of hysteria she'd placed herself upon. She  worried about the few people walking along the shore staring at her. She  also became upset because I hadn't put any makeup on her or styled her  hair.

"Listen, Jennifer," I began. "I don't presume to know your story. I  won't even try to guess your life, but what I can tell you is this … you  are a survivor. Most people carry around their battle wounds on the  inside where no one can see the things they've fought and won. But  you … you wear them on the outside, visible to everyone. Your scars were  not caused by weakness-they prove you're a brave fighter … and a winner.  All I want to do is photograph your victory, maybe add a little sexiness  to it. I'm really good at capturing sexy." I offered a teasing smirk as  I wiped away her stray tears.

Her shoulders dropped, relaxed, and she released a soft sigh through  barely parted lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and then quickly opened  them, focusing on me. "Okay."

With a victorious grin, I walked Jennifer to the edge of the beach and  posed her in the calm surf of the Gulf. The waters at Captiva were some  of the best around, and I knew without a doubt they would complement her  eyes better than any of the artificial backgrounds I had in the studio.  With Jennifer, I wanted light-lots of light. So I chose a spot away  from the trees and shade, and set to work.

Her skin was light and creamy, although the burns ran along the entire  left side of her body. The bathing suit covered her chest, but the scars  still peeked over her top, right above her breast. She cowered a lot,  showing her insecurity with my refusal to camouflage her imperfections  by using makeup. I didn't want to hide them-I wanted to showcase them,  highlight them, bring attention to the magnificence they held. I used  the water from the Gulf to wet her hair instead of styling it, going for  a more natural look. Jennifer objected to every idea I came up with,  but in the end, she reluctantly gave in and let me do my job.

For the final shot, I had her lie down on her stomach in the surf, one  arm stretched out beneath her head, and the other tucked under her chest  with her fingertips touching her lips. I made sure she lay with her  scars showing, the sun hitting them just right. I added some sand to her  hair and her shoulder, and then told her to look directly into the  lens.

The moment the shutter clicked, I knew I had it. My chest tightened and  my eyes burned with an emotion I couldn't place. I had captured the  perfect picture, the definition of magnetism in a photo. Nolan may have  sent her to me thinking I would fail, unable to meet his challenge. He  may have seen this girl and shuddered at her appearance, but I saw  something different. I saw strength, power, and above all else,  unadulterated radiance.

A high unlike anything else followed me all the way back to the studio.  After changing into her clothes, Jennifer didn't stay. I offered to show  her the raw shots I'd taken, but she timidly declined. I'm sure it had  to do with her restraining insecurities-those wouldn't go away over  night.

As I walked her out, I made a promise to myself … once I had them edited,  I'd give them to her. She needed them more than Nolan or I did.

Shari and I busied ourselves with Jennifer's photos on the computer as  we waited for the next appointment. I needed the diversion to keep me  from obsessing over who Nolan had chosen to send next. Her photos proved  to be the distraction I needed; it didn't take any time at all for me  to lose myself in them. They were stunning, needing barely any  touch-ups. I simply softened the harsh sunlight. No filters on her  actual body were applied or needed.

Before I knew it, the chime on the door rang out through the studio; my  next client had arrived. My heart clambered in my chest as I approached  the door, not even wasting my time imagining who I would find.

In the waiting area stood a giant of a man. His muscles bulged through  the white shirt he wore, and he towered over me by at least a foot-which  wasn't extremely difficult since I stood slightly under five and a half  feet tall, but with his build, he made me feel tiny. His hair was kept  close to his scalp, almost shaved, yet it seemed as though his face  hadn't seen a razor in at least a week.         

     



 

I became instantly intimidated, not only by his size, but also by his  unsettling expression. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his  eyebrows lowered as he took me in, and his nostrils flared on his  slightly crooked nose. The only thing about him with the ability to calm  my fears had been his eyes. The amber color pierced me and set my  insides ablaze.

What Nolan found unattractive about this man, I couldn't identify.

I stuck my hand out, offering him an introduction. "Hi, it's nice to  meet you. My name is Novah Johnson, and I am the photographer here."

He didn't move to return the handshake, only continued to stare me down  with his fierce expression. But I wondered if he knew how his eyes came  across. There was no mistaking the kindness they held. It was easy to  miss with his towering and intimidating build.

Finally, I dropped my hand and glanced down, becoming incredibly  insecure. And then I noticed it. The right sleeve of his T-shirt hung  loosely from his shoulder-empty. He had no arm to fill the fabric.

Intense heat spread from my neck to my face, and I slowly lifted my eyes  until they met his again. He still hadn't removed his attention from  me, and I suddenly felt inferior as our gazes locked once more.

Not giving up, I held out my left hand. "I'm really looking forward to  our shoot today. I'm sorry it was such short notice, and I don't really  have anything set up yet, but if you don't mind giving me a few minutes,  I'm sure I can come up with something."

Finally, he took my hand in his and shook it. Strong, powerful, and hot  didn't even begin to describe his fingers wrapped around mine. His hand  literally swallowed mine whole. "Jacob."

"Nice to meet you, Jacob. You can go ahead and follow me back, and we'll  get you ready." I knew exactly what I wanted his prints to look like.  And lucky for me, I had what I needed in the stock room.

He trailed behind me, his steps hard and heavy on the wood floor beneath  our feet. All I could think about was what kind of fucked-up person  Nolan was for sending these people to me. Not because they were messed  up in anyway, but Nolan had to have been in order to see them as  anything other than stunning.

"Jacob, this is Shari, my assistant. Shari, this is our next client,  Jacob." My focus never left my friend as I made the introductions,  ensuring her expression didn't veer toward offensive. "I'm thinking we  should use the weight bar with him. Shirtless. Boxer-briefs if he'll  allow us."