Chapter 3: Pickup and Delivery

The open house was a busy affair, and Sheila was surprised by the profusion of attractive girls and women about them. There were also several men who were accompanying women, so Ed's presence wasn't unusual; besides them, there were a few parents who chaperoned younger girls. A long table held a buffet of snacks and beverages, including wine for those who passed carding.

Two women and a man, the latter apparently the manager of the branch of SMF in New York City, were seated at tables, interviewing the potential models. Sheila, followed by her friends, went to a table across from one of the women.

"Hello, I'm Hazel," the woman said, smiling at each of them as Sheila sat down. "You of course are the candidate. Well, first of all, let's get some information about you."

Sheila gave Hazel her name and the details she wanted. She introduced Ed as her husband and Wendy as her friend. Hazel questioned her about any modelling experience she'd had, why she was interested in it, and did she hope for it as a career. All her questions seemed pertinent to a candidate for a career in modelling.

Sheila began to have doubts about SMF being the criminal front that Max was sure it was. Hazel was knowledgeable about modelling and even raised negative points about it as a career--mentioning the extensive travelling and long hours.

When Hazel had most of the information she wanted, the manager, a Se or Hernandez, came over and said, "Hazel, our photographer is available now if you want to use him."

He handed the woman a note, which she glanced at and then crumpled and dropped in a waste basket. She looked up at Edward and Wendy. "Well, we would like to avail ourselves of a series of promotional shots of Sheila since we have our photographer here. All right?"

She stood up. Sheila acquiesced in following her through a rear door, leaving Ed and Wendy alone with Hernandez, with whom they engaged in small talk about modelling. Wendy later told her that he, too, seemed quite informed about modelling as a career.

Sheila found herself in a well-lit room provided with two large mirrors on adjacent walls. The photographer was a man in his mid-thirties in shirt sleeves, with thick glasses. Lights and a large tripod-mounted camera stood along the door wall. In a corner was a screen.

"This is Charlie, Sheila," Hazel told her.

"Hi, Sheila!" he smiled at her, adjusting his tripod.

"We'll take a few shots of you dressed, a half dozen or so in your underwear and a few nude. You can take your clothes off behind the screen. There are hangers against the wall."

Although Sheila felt a little miffed that he hadn't asked her if it "was O.K." to take photographs of her nude, it didn't seem worth making a fuss about, especially if she was going to pose for lingerie and swimsuiits, which often hid very little anyway.

He did as he'd promised, and it actually wasn't embarrassing. Hazel left, and Charlie seemed only intent on posing her to her best advantage. He did remark, "Oh, nice taste in undies!" when she appeared in her bra, panties, stockings, and shoes, but that was all. Actually, seeing herself naked in the two mirrors was more disconcerting than when he was photographing her.