Black & White (Picture Perfect #1) (4 page)

Mercedes didn't understand that concept. The photographer was a big help in the results of the picture, but the model had to have what it takes - confidence and natural beauty. Unfortunately, Mercedes wore a mask, she was just all fake and pathetic.

Jude had 'dated' lots of guys, so Mercedes did the same thing. The major difference between them, was Mercedes had slept with all of them, Jude hadn't. Jude had made friends with most of them while Mercedes had made enemies with every one of her 'conquests'. It was similar to comparing a finely aged wine with a bottle of swill - they didn't even deserve to be in the same store.

I heard the bell on the front door of the studio and looked at the clock.
Late as usual.
The test photo was printing when Jude stepped into my private area of the studio.

"She's here," Jude announced rudely.

Her attitude wasn't directed towards me. Mercedes had always twisted Jude the wrong way since the first time they'd met. Jerry had introduced them as teenagers and Mercedes' snarky attitude and envy of Jude was a gift she'd carried with her for life.

"Put her in the meeting room.” I replied sympathetically. “I'll deal with her."

"I'm going to get a coffee, and then a shotgun, do you need anything?" Jude's attitude was getting worse the longer she had Mercedes on her mind.

"No, thanks." Taking a quick look at the calendar for today's activities, I added, "Listen, we only have the one consult this afternoon. Why don't you take off and go see Wyatt? Relax and forget about Mercedes."

"Mercedes... more like Miss Bitch," Jude retorted, puffing her chest out.

No one since Crystal Manning had brought out the inner bitch in Jude like Mercedes did. Crystal had been a student in our graduating class in high school. Her family owned a couple of big businesses in Vancouver, which meant she was rich in comparison to the rest of the students. She acted like a stuck-up snob, who spread rumors about anyone she thought was a threat. Jude had been no exception.

It had gotten so bad, I'd moved back to Vancouver with the intention of shutting Crystal Manning down once and for all. When my fist had connected with her mouth, smashing out her two front teeth, she finally left Jude alone. My bad reputation still lingered with her family. Hell, not that I cared, it didn't matter what Crystal's family thought of me. “Go home, Jude. Forget about her,” I suggested calmly.

"So, no shotgun?" Jude pouted.

I giggled, "Not today, Jesse."

"I told you before, it's not Jesse. It's Annie," Jude snapped.

"Yeah, but Annie Oakley didn't kill people. Jesse James did," I countered.

"Whatever,” Jude huffed. After a moment of thought, she added, “At least, Jesse can be a girl's name, too." She turned and headed out of the room. "I'll dispose of the trash and then I'm out of here. I need to unwind and Wyatt is just what the doctor ordered."

The mental images of Jude and Wyatt 'unwinding' shot into my brain. "Fuck, Jude, that's gross. I really don't need to think about it."

"Oh, grow up, Beth." Jude's voice floated down the hallway.

Sighing a cleansing breath, I considered taking up Jude's offer of the shotgun. The question was would I use it on me or her?

I'd tried cornering her a few times since Wyatt's surprise arrival to talk to her about them, but she always found a way out. Some sort of appointment, a glitch in the computer, a miraculous ringing of the phone, something always delayed our talk about their relationship. It was unclear why she was so afraid, but I was determined the talk would happen at some point.

The test photo finished printing, and I was satisfied with the result. It was as perfect as Photoshop could make it, even if it made me so desperately unhappy. Putting my name to anything so fake wasn't an enjoyable thought, but I reminded myself I was being paid for it. It made me feel dirty but safe at the same time.

In a sick way, Mercedes was a blessing. No one would ever see my true self in these photos, the use of my natural talent. It would help me to continue flying under the radar.

I headed out of the room and down the hallway, hearing a commotion from out front. The tension could be felt from the heated words flying back and forth.

"I'm paying for her time. I don't like waiting so tell that woman to hurry up!" Mercedes' shrill voice vibrated off the walls.

"What do you think she's doing back there, bitch? Miracles take fucking time! Besides you're the one who's late!" Jude's anger was boiling over.

“All the more reason she should be ready. God, what kind of business are you running here?”

Stepping out of the hallway, I threw the picture on the counter. "Well, Mercedes, there's your shot." Client or no client, I was no one's  slave, and she needed to be reminded of that.

Mercedes' chin dropped, and the color drained from under her painted face. "Beth, I'm sorry, but dealing with this...
woman
is so frustrating." She was trying to defuse the situation she'd suddenly found herself in. She obviously hadn't been expecting me to overhear the conversation.

Being Jude's photographer, Mercedes needed me more than I needed her business. "Mercedes, this
woman
is my partner. You deal with me, you deal with her." I stated, wrapping my arm around Jude's tense shoulders.

"If you ask me, with her rude behavior and crude attitude, you'll be lucky to stay in business," Mercedes snarled. Her words were directed at me but she was staring Jude down.

"You have two choices, Mercedes Clarke. Pay for your photos as they are and leave, or just leave without them," I growled, stepping away from Jude and towards Mercedes. My hands were balled up into fists, nails digging into the skin. “Besides, being connected to your fake image isn't good for
our
business.”

Mercedes took a quick step backwards. She knew my reputation, and what happened to people who badmouthed Jude. "Fine, it's your loss. I'll just take my business elsewhere," Mercedes replied, turning  on one foot.

"Not my loss,” I snickered as I turned back towards the hallway. “I guess your chances of becoming a model like Jude will disappear with the delete button on my computer."

Her hand was on my arm before I could take a step. Swinging around, I captured her wrist in an awkward position and she let out a small cry of pain. "Don't ever put your hands on me again! Do I make myself clear?" I whispered, through gritted teeth. Hurting her hadn't been the intention, but it made her realize she'd made a terrible mistake.

Her voice was quiet and shaky when she responded. "Yes."

I released my hold, pushing her away. I could see the terror in her eyes as she realized how angry I was. I decided to defuse the situation quickly, before it could become so much worse.

"Pay for the photos now, and you'll receive them in the mail. After this, you will not contact Jude or myself about our services or anything else in the future. Understood?" My words came out in a controlled manner, even as I struggled with my temper.

Her voice wavered, as the word “Yes” ghosted from her lips and she made a quick departure from the studio.

~~~~~~~~~~

After Mercedes' photos were in the sealed envelope, it was tossed in with the rest of the outgoing mail. I wiped my hands against my legs, trying to remove the dirty feeling from my fingers. "Finally, we're done with her." I announced, pretending to ball up a piece of paper in my hands and throw it in the trash.

Jude pulled her purse off the back of the chair. "I wouldn't have given her the damn photos. Her money really only covered the bullshit we've put up with for weeks."

"Yeah, well, if we give her the photos, she can't spread rumors about us." I knew it was a flimsy excuse.

"She's still gonna try and ruin the Huntley name." Jude argued.

"Look, we'll deal with that if, or when it happens. I've got our afternoon client to set up for. Go home and see Wyatt. Do totally unmentionable things to each other before I get there." I tried to keep the mental images from filtering into my brain.

“Are you sure you don't me to hang around?” She evidently knew who the client was.

“I'm pretty sure I'm grown up enough to handle one client on my own, Mommy.” The thought of Jude's current emotional roller coaster being around the studio, with someone who lacked all emotions, was too much for me to handle right now. “Go home.”

"Yes, ma'am," Jude saluted as she moved towards the front door. "By the way, Beth, Wyatt's wondering how sturdy the studs are in the house."

The question was extremely confusing. "I dunno... why?"

"He's thinking about putting in a sex swing," Jude replied brightly, as she disappeared through the door.

I fell back and slid down the wall, rubbing my face in frustrated disgust. Just the thought of what she was suggesting was enough to make me sick. Jude was so immature at times.
Damn!

The bell chimed, signaling someone's arrival. Figuring Jude had returned to torture me some more, my head never moved from its position between my knees. "Please, no more sexual images, I can't handle it." She was like a sister to me and imagining her with my brother, I mean, yuck! Come on. I couldn't deal with it.

"Excuse me?" The deep voice had a tone of disturbed alarm to it.

My head flew up to find the most hypnotic sight which had ever graced the planet. Being found sitting on the floor and cursing in a very unprofessional manner was horrifying.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Lorde," I muttered, knowing my face was a deep crimson red. "My partner is one in a million - unfortunately, she's the one I could live without." I knew it didn't come close to explaining my previous comment.

After pushing myself up from the floor and dusting off my ass, I stepped forward with my hand extended. The moment our hands touched, there was that same electrical current again traveling through my nerves, settling in my chest.

"I understand completely, my sister is a lot like your partner. She's also my one in a million."

William's voice was spellbinding. Between the English accent and the quiet tones layered with... I didn't know what, there was something which tugged at my soul, cried out for me to pull him close and cradle him in my arms.

"Well, my partner's also my best friend, so it gives her automatic grounds for forgiveness." I smiled, trying to diffuse the awkwardness which Jude had created.

William looked down at my hand, which was still wrapped inside his. I didn't want to break the connection, but it was getting a little strange.

"I'm sorry." I said, pulling my hand back. The blood rushed to my face, turning me shades of sunrise red one more time. I dug at my leather cuff wrapped around my wrist trying to calm my embarrassment.

"I apologize, Miss Huntley, I... just..." He sounded so lost and heavyhearted, I felt sorry for him.

He seemed so much like my father in that moment. When my parents got divorced, they had agreed it was for the best, well, at least, Mom had. They loved Wyatt and me, but they weren't in love. My father grieved over the end of their marriage. The similarities were there in William's voice.

Motioning to William, I directed him towards one of the private rooms, and followed him inside. We sat opposite each other in strained silence, while I pulled out a pen, a client form and one of the standard folders from the desk which separated us.

Wrapping myself in my professional persona, I looked down at the form. "So, Mr. Lorde, what kind of photos were you looking for?"

"I don't know... just... a portrait shot, I guess." He seemed very unsure of himself.

His answer was definitely not informative, and he had an attitude I had never encountered with any of my other clients. A softer approach was obviously needed with him. He was at a disadvantage, only knowing what had been in the sample packet and he clearly had no idea of what options were available.

I circled the word 'portrait' on the form. "How many people will be in the picture?"

The expression on his face shifted to one of devastation, a harrowing mixture between pain and longing. I didn't understand why, but I felt like the lowest form of life for having asked the question.

"Two." His voice was flat and unemotional.

This was such a difficult consultation. Normally, listening to the client would bring ideas, topics for further conversation, but this was far from normal. "The background, did you have any ideas of what you would like?"

He sighed, "I looked through the package you gave me, Miss Huntley.” He paused. “Maybe the solid color thing?"

"That's sounds good. Those photos are easier to work with. I would recommend you bring a couple of different shirts. The material colors sometimes clash with the background, so at least one light and one dark colored shirt would be great."

"Okay," he answered, and he seemed almost disinterested in our meeting.

"Would you like the photographs to be in color or black and white?" I asked, while continuing to take notes.

"I'm not sure. Can we decide that later, Miss Huntley?" he asked, glancing up from the table he had been staring at.

His eyes were glistening with unshed tears. The beautiful shade of blue sparkled, but his stare was still empty. He was looking right through me.