CHAPTER 33

Theresa paced the small studio. She checked her watch: 9:07 a.m.

Where were they?

“Theresa, the photographer is getting anxious. You sure you told the models to be here for 7:00?” Maxwell asked, his voice low.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s going on, but they should have been here two hours ago.”

“You’re gonna have to say something to the photographer. He says if they don’t arrive in five minutes, he’s leaving.”

“He can’t do that!” she shrieked.

“Well, he will, unless you figure out something.”

“I’ll have to stall him.”

Her first big assignment was quickly turning into a huge disaster. Everyone had worked so hard to make sure everything would run smoothly, and now unimaginable failure was looming. Essence had already sent photographers to take shots of the salon and staff, but they wanted some special shots of the trendy hairstyles Behave was known for. Dee Dee hand-selected the models, rented them a small studio, and then passed total control to Theresa. I don’t know what’s going on. Everything went so smoothly at the last photo shoot. If these models don’t show up, we might lose the chance to be in Essence.

Theresa tried not to think about it as she approached the photographer, a short, stocky, bald white man in his early forties. He had picked up some of his equipment and had begun to pack up. I have to do something. My job is on the line.

“Excuse me, John, is it?” she said, her voice a silky purr.

“Yeah, I’m John.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

“I don’t see why. I’m leaving,” John said, signaling to his two assistants to begin packing up.

“Why? I thought we were just about to get started.”

“Lady, we were supposed to start two hours ago. I don’t know about you, but my time is precious.”

“I assure you, John, my time is precious, too,” Theresa said, keeping her voice low and seductive.

He looked at her for a moment, and then continued packing his equipment.

“Look, how much?” Theresa asked, her voice a low growl.

“What?”

“How much extra would it take for you to stay?”

He looked her up and down, a slow smile playing on his lips.

“Not me, jerk. How much money do you want?”

“You wouldn’t have to pay me a dime, lady. A couple of minutes alone with you would be payment enough.”

I can’t believe this greasy fool honestly thinks I’m gonna sleep with him. I mean, look at me! I wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.

“Look, I got two words for you, buster: sexual harassment. Don’t ever again dare to talk to me in that manner. You were paid to do a job, and your short, pudgy butt better well do it. All right, pal? Or should I get on the phone with your wife and let her know that her husband is attracted to ethnic women? I’m sure this wouldn’t be the first phone call she has gotten from another woman, would it, John?”

He looked down at his wedding ring and looked back at Theresa, his eyes turning cold and hard.

“Five thousand dollars. Or I walk.”

“You must be crazy. You’re not that good. Two thousand dollars, and I strongly suggest you take it.”

He looked at her long and hard for a moment.

“Fine,” he snarled.

* * *

“So he’ll stay?”

Theresa nodded.

“Good, good,” Maxwell said, relieved. “How’d you do it?”

She hesitated. “I paid him.”

“Really? Dee Dee already paid him. You offered him more? How much?”

“Not much. It doesn’t matter; he stayed, didn’t he?”

Maxwell gave her a warning glance.

“She’s not gonna like you going over budget, Theresa. She made it real clear about that…”

“I know…”

“Just be prepared, is all I’m saying. She’s gonna chew your butt out.”

“I know, okay? But what else could I do? Do you know how hard it would have been to get another photographer? Especially of his caliber? I didn’t know what else to do, so lay off.”

“Did the models come yet?” she asked.

“Yeah, they came a couple of minutes ago. They’re getting changed.”

“I’m gonna ask them what their problem is. They’re over two hours late!”

“They said you called them and told them to get here at 10:00.”

“What? I never told them that!”

“Well, somebody called them,” Maxwell said, looking down at Theresa.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m lyin’ or something. I told you I didn’t call them. Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, Theresa. Look, let’s just get through this.”

“Fine,” she said brusquely, walking away.

I am not going crazy. I called all those models personally and even sent them all an e-mail. Dee Dee is gonna kill me for all this crap going wrong.