“Hmm,” he pouts thoughtfully and leans down so we’re close, speaking in a soft rumble, “Butdoyou like it?”
I can’t help my mouth tugging into a smile and I’m debating whether to answer that when the bell above the door sounds, signalling that my client has arrived. I take a step back from man currently causing my brain to short circuit and plaster a customer friendly smile on my face. Footsteps thud up the creaky, old, wooden stairs and in my peripheral vision I see Jake’s eyebrows shoot up when my client reaches us with a nervous smile.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Why do you want to kiss me, Jake?”
JAKE
"Mr. Owuo, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Nel steps forward stretching out her hand to themanwho just walked in. I was not expecting a dude. I was expecting a woman and planning on sitting on the comfy chairs at the front, not watching the shoot like some creeper.
“Please, call me Micha.” The guy has a rich and smooth voice but there’s a definite twinge of nerves in the background. He’s probably in his late forties or early fifties with brown skin and a goatee peppered with grey despite his shortly clipped hair still being completely black.
“Micha,” Nel says with a warm smile. “I’m so glad we were able to get this booked in.
“Yeah,” he smiles somewhat shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you so much for fitting me in on Christmas Eve. I’m sorry to be so awkward, it’s just difficult with work and finding time to sneak off without my wife knowing.”
Without his wife knowing? That sounds dodgy. What does he think is going to happen here?I take an instinctual step toward Nel.
“Ah, yes. I understand.” Nel chuckles, completely comfortable. “I’m guessing this is all going to be a surprise for your wife?”
Oh, wait. Yeah, no. That makes more sense. Jeesh, cool it, Partridge.
“Yeah.” He smiles, clearly thinking of his wife.
“Micha, this is my friend Jake.” Nel gestures toward me. “He came with me this morning just to help get set up. Now, he can stay to help me move things around to keep things running smoothly so we finish in good time, or I can ask him to step out if you’d be more comfortable with just the two of us.”
Micha looks at me and I can see the fear in his eyes. I kind of feel bad for the guy but also wonder why on earth he’s here if he doesn’t want to be. Completely expecting him to want me gone, I’m just about to say that I’ll head back to the café when he speaks up.
“I think it would be best if he stays, if that’s okay?” I blink at him for a second and then nod. “It’s just a bit weird to be parading around in my underwear in front of a young woman I hardly know, might be a bit less weird if there’s another guy here.”
Nel chuckles, “Sure. Here, why don’t you take a seat, and we’ll figure out what you want to get out of today.” They take the two seats either side of the coffee table to chat while I stand awkwardly to one side, still reeling from the fact that there is a guy here to have a sexy photoshoot. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen all of Nel’s posts—yes, we’ve established I’m slightly stalker-y, let’s not keep going on about it—and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a guy on there. I mean, I know she doesn’t post all of her clients, but most of them are middle aged women and a fair few younger women. I’m tempted to get my phone out to double check if I’ve seen a guy on there before, but that would probably be rude.
They talk briefly about why Micha is here—he wants to gift his wife the photos for Valentine’s Day—and what he wants to do in the photos. The look on his face when she mentions the props has me smothering a laugh behind my palm.
“Okay, so no whips or handcuffs,” Nel determines.
“Uh, no,” he agrees bashfully. “I don’t want to look stupid,” he almost whispers.
Nel tilts her head and smiles warmly at the man. “I won’t let that happen. I promise, this is going to be really cool.”
“Have you photographed men before?” he asks.
“Oh God, yeah,” she snorts, pulling a leather-bound folder from the bottom of the table and flicks through it until she finds the page she’s looking for and turns it to him. I crane my neck to look too, completely fascinated with all of this. There in the portfolio, is a collection of photos of men. There’s one who must be a model, if he isn’t he should change careers. The guy is in his mid-twenties with an impeccable body, brooding at the camera like he’s commanding it to join him in the bed he’s lounging on. The others are normal people. Older guys, beer bellies, skinny ones, and even one dressed as Batman. Micha and I must both spot that one at the same time as we each look to Nel with a raised brow in question.
She just smirks with a shrug. “Hey, I don’t judge.”
Just a few more minutes of conversation and Nel instructs Micha to go behind the screen and get ready, which he does, blowing out a big breath like he can expel his nerves with the air. She asks me to help her pull a red sheet over the mattress and add some light fabric to the frame in the same shade, along with the white curtains already there. Micha comes out from behind the screen, looking highly uncomfortable in nothing but a pair of black boxers.
I step back as Nel instructs him how to position himself on the bed. It’s nothing overtly sexual; first she has him leaning against the wall where there would normally be a headboard but there isn’t, then she tells him to sit on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his thighs. I stand behind Nel as she snaps away and then checks the photos on her digital camera. Micha’s nerves are the only thing showing on the little screen. His smile is forced, and his eyes are terrified. I’m no artist, but I can tell these aren’t great.
“Micha, why are you doing this for your wife?” Nel asks as she snaps another photo. When he just looks at her in confusion, she says, “Why do you think she’d like this as a Valentine’s gift?”
“Oh,” he says, looking at his hands. “She actually came to you a couple years ago.”
“She did?” Nel lowers her camera and then her face lights up in recognition. “Carla?” When he nods, she chuckles. “I should have put two and two together when I heard your surname.” She heads to the wall with the dressing table which has framed photos of about twenty different women from shoots and plucks one from the wall. She quickly shows me before handing it to Micha. A beautiful woman who seems a little younger than Micha lays on the very bed he’s sat on, her smooth skin practically glowing in the lights. The photo is in black and white so the focus is purely on her as she stretches her body over the mattress and stares at the camera with what can only be described asbedroom eyes.
Micha’s eyes shine and his smile stretches wide as he takes the picture from Nel. “That’s her, my Carla.”
