The next morning, to my surprise, Thalia called to tell me I needed to drop by Grayson’s studio. I stepped into the kitchen and prepared myself a cup of coffee. Rain splattered against the windows, mirroring the way I felt: battered and depressed. Deciding what to wear from Sylvie’s closet and preparing my makeup took forever. It took just as long to assure Sylvie that I was good enough to work on Sunday. By the time I reached Grayson’s place, my hair was a mess and my back slick with sweat, but I had never been more excited. It was my way to cope with my nervousness over Jett’s call; Sylvie had told him in her most nonchalant voice that I was going to stay with her for a few days because she needed me, hence buying me time to think about what I really wanted to say to him.
Like the day before, Thalia helped me change and did my makeup and hair; apparently, I wasn’t fit to see Grayson the way I looked, and then I finally got to see the real studio. One minute I was chatting to the other girls, and the next Grayson came in and demanded our full attention.
“Watch and learn,” Grayson called out to me, jerking me out of my thoughts.
I did as he said, albeit with apprehension at the thought of becoming one of his models. I sat in a swivel chair, with a bottle of water in my hand, and observed in silence, my attention once again returning from Jett to the task at hand.
On the west side, huge birch branches and plastic trees were decorated with white garland and pomanders in front of a backdrop support and lots of lighting gear. Grayson snapped picture after picture while communicating short but clear instructions on how each model was to pose.
I decided it wasn’t going to be such a bad job, though it wouldn’t be easy. Thalia had made an understatement in saying I’d just have to stand around and look sexy. Grayson’s instructions were as varied as I thought they would be, and he kept each girl busy and on her toes—in all possible positions—albeit not nearly as dirty as I had imagined.
A tall woman, who looked as though she could walk the runway in underwear, sat down on a broad flower swing, her hands holding on the ropes, while she crossed one leg over the other—harboring a dreamy look in her eyes. It looked sensual but not cheap or dirty. There was something elegant and almost classy about the way Grayson took the pictures, but even more fascinating was the way the girls posed in their colorful polka-dot dresses. I couldn’t help but wonder if the pictures would be as beautiful as the models looked that instant.
“Jenna, hop in there,” Grayson shouted, beckoning me over as he ushered the tall model off the set.
I almost fell out of my seat. “Me?” I asked incredulously. My gaze moved to Thalia, who smiled encouragingly at me.
“Who else? You know anyone else in here by that name?” Grayson’s voice dripped with impatience.
Figuring he might decide to change his mind if I didn’t move my ass, I rushed over to the girl on the swing. Grayson nodded, satisfied, and began to take charge.
At first, I felt out of place, but it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. He snapped a few pictures of us, then turned the focus on me. Following Grayson’s clear instructions, I sat under one of the plastic trees, with my legs stretched out in a sexy pose, holding a closed, old book as if in thought. Another model peeked from behind the tree, as if trying to get my attention.
I had barely taken the position and gotten comfortable when Grayson called out, “Good work, everyone.” He set the camera aside and began to clap, which I assumed was a sign that we were done. His applause was rewarded with more clapping from the models.
“As you all know, tomorrow we’ll be hosting a big event, and the studio will be turned into a gallery,” Grayson said. “I need each and every one of you here on time, so you can get ready.” Grayson’s blue eyes turned to me. “You too, Jenna. Thalia will fill you in.” He turned back toward the group. “Gina, Sarah, and Thalia, you will pose for our guests. The rest of you will entertain, serve cocktails, and generally be your usual gorgeous selves. Make sure you give it your best. Whoever books a job gets a bonus. The checks will be in the mail. Do you have any questions?”
My heart began to race. I couldn’t believe that Grayson was already inviting me to a huge event. For a second, I felt like hugging him, grateful that he had thought of me when I really had given him no reason to. Maybe me posing had changed his mind that I was worth taking a chance on, or maybe he was short of one girl. Either way, I was grateful for any hours he was willing to give me. Serving cocktails and talking to new people didn’t sound so bad, particularly since I’d also be paid for it.