Alan stared me down while he processed my answer. I’d done my best to turn the tables on him, using his method of logic mixed with creative persuasion to get what I wanted.
“Okay, go get this thing over with. We’re behind schedule as it is.” He dismissed me with a lazy wave and I exited quickly, taking my little victory while I could.
Doug was strolling around with Justin, looking much more comfortable in the clothes I’d picked out for him: A regular, white button-down, the top button open, thank goodness, a plain white jacket, and pants that actually allowed him natural movement.
If only I could have done the same for myself. I’d insisted on no outfits where more of my bosoms draped out than in, but I couldn’t do anything about the length of the skirt, at least for the photoshoot. My legs were my best feature and they wanted them shown off.
The photographer spotted me coming back and clapped his hands together. “Okay, people. We’re about to start. Justin and … Strength Warrior bad guy. I need you two over here, please.”
Perfect. Doug didn’t even get a name, nor did the photographer look the least bit ashamed in not knowing it.
That had been the biggest hang up in getting Doug on the show. Alan wanted me to become a household name, but he hadn’t wanted another nobody, as Doug so eloquently put it. Neither of us commanded respect in a place that only cared about who you were and who you knew.
We’d just have to fix that, starting with this photographer, a bean pole of a man in white skinny jeans and a white t-shirt strategically torn in places. It was like fashion week at the pearly gates around here.
“Doug Keller. His name is Doug Keller.” I stepped in front of the photographer, looking put out. He was messing with his equipment, but I just angled my head with his until he acknowledged me. I needed to make this about the photographer and not about defending Doug. I was doing too much of that already. I gestured to Victoria. “This is Victoria Laurens. I’m Willa Stanton.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed and she stalked over to stand with us, one sassy hand on her hip. I’d intentionally introduced someone who needed no introduction, and like a predictable puppet, Victoria responded with an air of deep offense.
The photographer held out placating hands. “Of course. Forgive my poor attempt at humor. Victoria, my darling. This lovely dress needs to be front and center. How do you feel about the wind machine on a light setting, just to blow the bottom of your dress around? I want you two men, Justin and Doug, strong poses on either side of her.”
It was all business after that, though I noticed the photographer steered clear of me. He got all the shots of the three judges together before finally waving me over, and except for calling Doug ‘Strength Warrior bad guy’ when we first started, I had to admit he knew what he was doing. The gold lettering we’d decided on for the Triple Threat logo would look great with these all white shots.
Doug
I just wanted it to be over. After posing us draped across a curved white couch, we were asked to stand again and move in close together. The photographer motioned for Victoria to wrap herself around me, and besides the fact that it was super uncomfortable and slightly creepy to have her staring up at me with bedroom eyes, her claw of a hand was digging into my shoulder.
I stared straight ahead as if she wasn’t there. The photographer looked like he was about to reprimand me, but he turned pensive and ducked behind the camera again. “Fabulous. You’re above all this, Doug. No one can touch you.”
I turned and glared at Willa for dragging me into all this, and the shutter went off a dozen more times. Willa smiled back. She could read my thoughts, and I could read hers. She wasn’t any happier about this, and yet she was enjoying my discomfort. Misery loves company, and all that.
The photographer beamed. “I’m loving this. The chemistry between the four of you is unreal.” He continued to take pictures, occasionally moving one of us forward or back or asking us to smile or pout. And all the while praising everything we did, a flick of the hair, or a raised eyebrow. We were all natural models, apparently. Victoria Laurens was practically purring with all the attention and compliments. No wonder celebrities had such big heads.
My stomach began to gurgle in protest, and I considered dinner options, tuning out the smell of Victoria’s fiery perfume and the photographer’s voice. Would I spend the entire season with my mind purposefully somewhere else?
When he finally released us, I made a beeline for my makeshift dressing room and changed back into regular clothes.
Willa ducked out of her dressing room at the same time and grabbed my arm. “Don’t go anywhere. We still have the planning meeting. They’re bringing in food.”
She could see my disappointment, and she blew out a frustrated breath. “I need you, Doug. I need your input. You have to stop acting like a cornered cat and get invested in this thing.”
I closed my eyes. She was right, and it only irritated me more. “You owe me,” I whispered.
She tapped my chest until I opened my eyes and looked at her. “That doesn’t scare me. Not even a little bit.”
