Chapter 1

Erica Blaylock had been modeling off and on for five years, ever since she had turned twelve. She was “discovered” by a talent scout looking to build a “family” of people to picture in an advertisement. He needed a cute, pre-pubescent girl and he saw her at the mall, with her mother, Megan. It had taken him three days to convince Megan to go to a photo session and watch as a magical, instant family of four was created to sell toaster waffles. Somebody else had seen that ad and wanted the little girl in it to model clothes being sold on the internet.

The rest, as they are so fond of saying, was history.

She had done tons of catalog work since then and been well established as an independent “working model” in the local market, even if it was only part time work. She loved it, though, and thought of it more as an avocation, rather than a job. She didn’t have an agent and didn’t want one. Neither did Megan, her now fully-supportive mother.

Then three quarters of the way through one job, her photographer, Jerry, succumbed to the cancer he thought he could stave off for a few more years. On top of that, while she was communicating with the company whose clothing she’d been modeling when Jerry died, her mom’s teaching position at the high school in their town got eliminated, due to budget cutbacks. Normally, teachers signed new contracts as soon as their old ones expired, but instead of being offered a new contract, Megan was told her services would no longer be needed.

It was June, 2019.

The long and short of it was that the company told Erica to hold onto the clothing they had sent and find another photographer to finish the project. Jerry had sent them enough of the finished work that they didn’t want to start from scratch with a new model and photographer. Jerry had also recommended to the company to trust her to finish the project. While that was going on, Megan also found a job in a new town, in another state, that had not slashed their school budget and they moved. They got settled in, which meant they unpacked roughly half of the boxes they moved. It was summer, so they both had time to relax a bit while Megan went through the process of getting her license to teach in that state and the normal bureaucratic red tape all new hires had to endure.

Modeling had grown Erica’s self-confidence and that emerged in her negotiations with the company that was trusting her to finish the contract. Jerry had given her a thumb drive with everything he had sent them, as well as all the other shots he’d taken of her on it (which he felt needed some tweaking). They liked the work he had sent them and wanted her to finish it, rather than start from square one with another model.

Now Erica needed to find another photographer and convince him (or her) to take on the project, which would involve editing the “extra” shots on the thumb drive, and take more as she modeled the rest of the clothing.

Not knowing anybody, or having any leads in her new location, Erica decided to just go talk to the photographers in her new town and explain her predicament. She had a portfolio to show them, and the unfinished contract to review. She didn’t know “the territory” either, so she was going to have to do some investigating.

She started by going into a high end photo studio, where she met a woman named Julie. Julie said she didn’t do any fashion photography, but she knew three people in town who did. She gave Erica a piece of paper with the names and addresses, and wished her well.

She started at the top of the list and within an hour she’d been turned down twice. Yes, they did some commercial photography, now and then, but it wasn’t the core of their business and they rarely needed models.

There was only one more place for her to try. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address. The name above that was “Bob Chambers.”

When the cab stopped, she almost told him to go on. The place appeared to be an old warehouse in a run-down industrial part of town and looked like a dump. But she needed to at least finish the project and, hopefully, find more work to stay in the game, so she paid the cabbie and went to the paint-flecked door that didn’t even have a company name on it.

The door was unlocked, so she took a deep breath and went in. She had only gone five feet before she stopped, shocked. She knew why the outside was so shabby. This Bob person had spent a ton of money on the interior of his building, converting a lot of the space into a huge studio. She saw four different places where scenes could be created and recognized a big roll of backdrops on a large metal frame with wheels on it, so it could be moved around. There was also a green screen. There were lights everywhere and everything gleamed. What she was looking at appeared to be about half of the building. There was more farther back, but it was in darkness, above an eight foot wall and she couldn’t see what was there.

She moved further in and saw a tall black man bending over a light table, looking at some kind of film. He looked up at her and said, “I wondered who came in. That’s the first time my new door buzzer actually went off. Welcome. Welcome. And thank you for coming. It gets a little lonely around here, at Chambers Video and Photography.” He smiled and his teeth were brilliant white, surrounded by his black face. “How can I help you?”

“I’m a model,” she said. “I have five years of experience in consumer fashion and am technically still under contract with a company for an advertising campaign. My last photographer got sick and died right in the middle of the project. At the same time, my mother, who is a teacher, got a new job here in Hillsdale, so I had to move. The company we were working with gave me a month to find a new photographer and finish the project. So I’m looking for a new photographer who will finish the contract and, hopefully, keep me as a model for future work.”

“Hmmm,” he said. “How old are you?”

“I’ll be eighteen in seven months,” she said.

“And where is your guardian?”

“My mom is at a seminar or something that all the teachers have to attend. I don’t really know who my father is. Mom doesn’t like to talk about that.”

“Come in and have a seat while I vet you. What’s your name and one company you worked for?”

She answered him as he showed her to a table that had salt and pepper shakers in the middle. She looked around and saw she was in a small, almost makeshift kitchen. A spiral stairway nearby led to a platform that looked like it had a bed and dresser on it.

“Do you live here?” she asked. He was looking at a monitor and tapping keys.

“I had to save money,” he said. “I put every cent I had in this place and didn’t have anything left over for frivolities like an apartment.”

“You have a lot of equipment,” she said.

“Since you have been so forthcoming about your situation, I’ll be up front about my own. I was a photographer for another company and we parted ways under less than happy circumstances. We were friends but had different work ethics. I knew what was needed so I decided to try striking out on my own. I learned there was a man going out of business, so I furnished this place by buying him out and going to auctions. Unfortunately, his building was already rented to someone else and all I could afford was this place. I’ve done a few projects and I’m treading water, but I expect things to pick up once people know where I am.”

It was silent while he moved his mouse around and clicked on things.

“There’s soda in the fridge, and cold water. Help yourself,” he said.

She went to the obviously old and used refrigerator and got a bottle of water out of it. She watched her sugar intake carefully. Her body was in perfect shape and she wanted to keep it that way. Her mom helped by working out with her and eating well, too.

“Okay,” said the man, as he sat back. “Your work looks very good.” He frowned. “Did I introduce myself?”

“You said it’s Chambers Video and Photography, and a lady I talked to said your name was Bob Chambers. So it’s okay.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I should be professional, especially when I’m speaking to a potential model. You said you were under contract. To whom?”

“It’s called Teasdale Designs and about three fourths of the still photography is finished. They also want video of the model, in close-up, saying various things. Like ‘I’ll never wear anything but Teasdale.’ I’m told they’ll mesh it all into an ad campaign.”

“It’s a new idea,” said Bob. “Usually companies go for either photos or video. There are so few physical magazines anymore that photography has changed a lot. Now it’s all short ads to sell to You Tube and the like. What they’ll probably do is show a picture of you in a dress or whatever, and follow it up with a video shot of a beautiful face urging them to buy the product.”

“I don’t know about beautiful,” she said.

“Don’t fish for compliments,” said Bob. “You know you’re gorgeous. I looked at some of the shots of you out there and I can tell the photographer was a pro. And a pro tells his models what he’s thinking. Your photographers have told you you’re beautiful, haven’t they.”

“Well,” said Erica, looking away as she flushed.

“There’s nothing wrong with being beautiful,” said Bob. “It’s a hell of an asset in this business. If you look like most people, you get a part in a toilet bowl cleaner ad. If you’re a babe, you get to sell hair products, or jewelry, or skinny jeans. You’re a tad young for that now, but in a year or two I could get you into commercials. I have contacts and I’ve shot commercial footage before.”

“Oh. So you don’t have anything for me now?”

“I didn’t say that. I’ll need to see the contract details for this Teasdale thing. I’m willing to bet I can finish your project. I’ll do a run of the stills, and one video and send all of that to the company. I’ll offer them that for free and use it as an audition to offer my services to them for future work. All I’ll ask for is compensation for you. That will take care of your current situation. Then you can help me with a project I have half finished. My model got pregnant and then married and quit on me. This project is for a clothing catalog company and they want the same girl in various kinds of clothing, on different pages in the catalog. I can send them what Vicky did and add you in. I know they’ll love you. They probably have tons of pretty blondees and brunettes. Vicky is blonde, but black-haired beauties, like you, are rare.”

“Okay,” she said. “I can start any time.”

“I don’t write long-term contracts,” said Bob. “I work on a per job basis. I know about how much time it will take and I pay union scale, even for minors. I’m sure your mother would want to be here, though.”

“No, she got tired of watching me model years ago,” said Erica.

“The reason I said that is there are a few outfits left that are brief,” he said.

“How brief?”

“Bikini brief,” he said.

“How tiny?”

“It’s not the size. It’s the material. There are no modesty panels in them.”

“Can you shoot it so my face is obscured?”

“I’d have to take it both ways. The close-ups, that show the fine detail won’t have your face in them, but there will be a shot of you where the whole suit can be seen. They want their wholesome girl-next-door to be recognizable. Their focus groups apparently say they look at the entire catalog, just to see if their favorite model is somewhere else, in a different outfit.”

“Okay,” she said.

“And the other problem is that you’re not eighteen. The photographs will be legal, but it’s always better to have parental consent if slinky photos will be taken of a minor.”

“When do you want to start?” asked the girl.

“Strike while the iron is hot, I say. I’d like to start today, if possible. We have half a day left and can get a lot done in that time. Can you go get your mom?”

“I can call her,” said Erica. “Would that do?”

“I can record her voice giving consent. Yes. Then she can sign a release later.”

Erica dialed her mom’s phone and it went to voicemail. She sent her a text, explaining the situation and asked her to call as soon as she could. She was looking over the clothing Bob wanted her to model when her phone rang.

“I’m sorry I bothered you at your thing, but I can work today if I have your permission. He says he’ll take verbal permission today and you can come sign a release, tomorrow.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Her name is Megan,” said Erica, handing him her phone.

Bob spoke to her mother and notified her that two of the bikinis were pretty slinky and one was a thong.

“She’s modeled nightgowns before,” said Megan. “Some of them were pretty risqué. I trust her judgment.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up and said, “You still have the clothes they sent your former photographer, right?”

“Yes. When he started going downhill and got hospitalized, he called them and negotiated for me to keep the clothing and find another photographer within thirty days. If I couldn’t do that, I was supposed to ship all the stuff back to them. I’ve talked to them, too. They’re shooting seasonal stuff and there are time frames they have to adhere to. The boxes with all that stuff in it are at home.”

“Digital photography has changed the game and the time frames are more relaxed. I’m sure I can get them what they want within a couple of weeks. I’ll take you to your house to get the stuff. We have the whole afternoon, but I want to get as much done as we can.”

They went out and got in his car. Half an hour later they put three boxes in the back seat of his car and they returned to the studio. They took the boxes to the dressing room and set them down.

“Okay! Let’s take some pictures! Let’s get your video out of the way, first. You’ll be sweating after we do the fashion shots. There’s some makeup in the drawers of that table. Muted makeup to start with. Some eyeliner, a touch of rouge and some dark red lip gloss. Okay?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” she joked, saluting sloppily.

When she came out Bob looked at her. She had added some lilac eye shadow that had sparkly something in it.

“Perfect,” he sighed. “You won’t have to send any clothing back. You’re going to knock them dead.”

Bob placed her on a tall stool in front of a green screen. Teasdale could specify what the background should be and that could be added later. He had her remove her T shirt and push her bra straps off of her shoulders and then draped her in a pale ivory mass of cloth that contrasted with her hair. He touched up her makeup here and there and pulled up the list of comments she was supposed to make.

“I’m using low intensity lighting so I can get in close and not show all that pancake makeup you have to wear if the lights are bright. So just smile and look beautiful while you say all this stuff and I’ll take care of the rest. Okay?”

“Super,” she said.

He zoomed in, framing her hair, face, and the drape. He had her “perform” each thing she was supposed to say three times, changing the angle of the view each time. It took them two hours to get everything done.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll review it all later and we can redo anything needed. You ready to model some clothes?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

She returned to the changing room and got the list she and her former photographer had been using. It had a long list of things on it, about two thirds of which had been lined through, to show they were finished. She took the list to Bob and showed it to him.

“It looks like maybe not as much was done as I thought,” she said.

He looked over the list.

“I’d say you were ready to do beach wear. I have a backdrop that shows a beach scene. Let’s start with the sundresses and then move on to the cover-ups. We’ll save the swimsuits for tomorrow.”

“Got it,” said Erica.

She put on a sundress and walked back out to the studio. He had a background of a beach set up. The first dress was blue and white and made a startling contrast to the sandy brownish tan of the beach scene. They progressed through eight more dresses. He used a fan in some and even poured sand onto the floor for her to stand in, to show she was bare-footed on the beach.

“I’ll shop vac it up and put it back in the bags,” he said. “It will make a nice touch for the swimsuits, too.”

They moved on to cover-ups and she put on the one-piece swimsuit that was at the top of that list. She covered it up with various wraps and the lights thumped over and over. When those were done it was almost five.

“We got a lot done, today,” said Bob. “More than I expected. You take direction really well. I’m sure we can find more work for you in the future.”

“I’m so glad. Moving was stressful. I was worried I might not be able to keep modeling.”

“Not to worry. Now, go home and get your beauty sleep. There are twenty swimsuits and a bunch of pairs of shoes and sandals to do.”

“Okay. What time do you want me to show up?”

“I live here, so it doesn’t matter. The bell rings in several places, including where I sleep.” He tossed his thumb toward the platform at the top of the spiral stairway. “I usually wake up at five, so you won’t wake me up.”

“That is correct. I’m not getting up at five to model swimsuits,” she said, with a grin.

Megan was home when Erica got there.

“Hi! I modeled for the new guy,” said Erica.

“I gathered, when you called. I didn’t approve starting any negotiations with a new photographer,” said Megan.

“I know. I only went around to the studios to see if anybody needed any models. I got to his studio last and he almost fell on his knees and begged me to help him finish a job. His previous model got married and quit. It was regular catalog stuff, so I knew I could do it. He also finished the series Jerry was doing when he died. Remember those boxes of stuff I’d been modeling for Jerry? Well, Bob brought me over here and we took them back and he finished a bunch more of the job. He’s been a photographer for years but is just getting started with his own agency. Anyway, he’s sending the shots he took to Teasdale, and we’ll send them their clothes when he’s finished. He isn’t charging them anything and says the work he did is an audition to them for future work. He’s hoping they’ll take it and give him more work, and me more work, too.”

“So who is this new photographer?”

“His name is Bob Chambers and he’s different.”

“Different. What does that mean?”

“Well, the outside of his studio looks like a dump, but the inside looks like it belongs to Vogue, or something. I guess he spent his life savings setting up the studio but he still had to borrow money and he’s making payments.”

“And how did that happen to come up in conversation?”

“I told him I almost turned around and left when I first saw the outside. He was very thankful I didn’t. He’s going to try to get more work for me. He’s going to bid on two projects he didn’t have a model for. Now he does, so I might get more work right away.” She grinned.