Chapter 2

Eventually, he made it up to our group, a smile on his face as he approached. “Good afternoon, guys. Are you having a great time at the beach? Huh, nice hot day for it. Maybe I should be in boardies too instead of looking for new business.

“By the way, my name is Arthur Boner. I’m a freelance photographer and always on the lookout to find the next supermodel. Maybe one of you girls? Hey, have you thought about that before?”

The guys laughed at his surname, and we girls giggled. “Fuck off, you pervert,” Gabriel said.

The photographer looked at Gabriel and let out a little laugh. “Wow, dude, nice welcome. It’s okay, I’m used to it and not offended, but please, I like to meet young people and let them know what I do. Would you allow me to show you some of my work?” He said as he looked towards me.

I noticed he was easygoing and laid back and didn’t get offended when told to “Fuck off.” He seemed very approachable and had a charming disposition, despite teasing us four girls about becoming a model.

Arthur took the large bag off his shoulder, put it on the sand, and pulled out some albums. “Here, girls, have a look at a few of the portraits I have created for some of my models.”

Arthur handed the albums to me, and the other three girls quickly came around to have a look. The shots looked super impressive.

As we looked through the albums, Arther put his hands together, imitating a camera lens, and he moved around as though he was taking pictures of the girls. Making us laugh and giggle. “Oh, yes girls, you are very photogenic.” How bloody corny, I thought to myself as I glanced over at Ruth, who had her fingers down her throat, making choking noises.

Although Arthur said we all looked photogenic, he singled me out by looking at me longer than the other girls and said, “You look to be very interested in the photos, young lady. May I ask you your name?”

“Don’t trust him.” Jacob said before continuing, “He’s trying to get into your panties. It’s how these sleazebags work.”

I ignored Jacob before replying, “My name is Caitlyn,” I said nervously.

“Thank you, Caitlyn. I’m pleased to meet you. Have you ever thought of becoming a model? Your face and figure tell me you would look great in front of the camera.”

Not only was I flattered and embarrassed at what Arthur said. I had been told countless times that “I looked like a model.” Now, an actual professional photographer was telling me the same. Maybe I could become a model. Who knows, even a supermodel? I had stars in my eyes, dreaming about what I could become.

“How about you, mate? Can you tell me your name? And are you Caitlyn’s boyfriend?” Arthur asked, turning to Jacob.

“I’m not your mate, and I’m not Caitlyn’s boyfriend. And my name is none of your business. Caitlyn, please don’t trust this guy. He’s after something, and we all know what that is.”