Another thing Audrey hated about this line of work was immediately brought to mind as she was ushered through to some coat-racks and a small army of dressers. There was all this acting like she was an Untouchable when she was out and about in the public eye, yet on the job it seemed like she was a show pony with no dignity, to be poked and prodded and remodelled with the times. That's it, no dignity, thought Audrey as her poor sweater was ripped off her by an over hasty dresser, who then helped her out of her jeans so she stood wearing nothing but a t-shirt bra and a white thong. Always the same, she thought, as Fernando and the head dresser had WW3 over some styling matter, and she stood there half naked and shivering from the breeze of the wind machine. She looked around the room; it was sectioned off by some curtains in front of which stood a narrow, full-length mirror and a table with a makeup artists' kit on it sectioned it off.
Boring, boring, boring. Until something caught her eye... Peering through the black curtains at her was the bluest eye she'd ever seen; wide, and deep. Its beauty entranced her and she felt herself blush at the way it stared at her.
That eye belonged to Donovan O'Reilly, and it widened even more as he tried to take in as much of her as he could. As a talented new photographer just starting out he'd done some investigation on Audrey, seen her portfolio and all, but he'd never imagined she could be this good looking in real life. Her face was goddess like, her hair rippled in the breeze. Her narrow, fragile frame shivered yet she stood tall and proud, all 5ft10 of her. Audrey had shapely, elegant limbs, dainty hands and feet, a sculpted bottom, washboard stomach and oh! Those breasts straining under their white cotton cups, nipples hardened to the cold. He was mesmerised... until...
"INTRUDER! Look, Fernando! Security! SECURITY!". Susan, on her usual snooping rounds, had caught young Donovan spying on her charge. She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him into full view. He was so shocked he staggered along with her, bending his head down to her hand so as to avoid injury. "I caught this little boy peeking at Audrey! What do we do with him? Hmm?! HMMMMMMM?!".
"No no Susan, this is the photographer, though I can see how you can make the mistake," said Fernando, sneering at Donovan. Susan looked so surprised and scandalised, Audrey couldn't help giggling. "Well I never... of all the... I can't believe this... hmmph!". She let go of Donovan and left the studio in a huff.
"Audrey, this here is Mr O'Reilly. He has just graduated from the N.I. Fine Arts Academy. Very young, very... amateur at twenty one. Ats ats ats..."- and once again Audrey tuned out of Fernando's senseless ramble, but this time it was to watch Donovan.
He stood at least 6ft2; tall, and toned. His hair stood up in a spiky mess and was dyed a bizarre blue-black, which complemented his gorgeous eyes. He wore a sexy, sleepy, come-to-bed expression on his face, amplified by his sensual mouth with its curving lower lip through which he wore a lip ring. He had a lot of piercings- Audrey counted three in one ear, two in the other, his lip ring, and a tiny bar through the end of one lazy brow... she wondered if he had any others she couldn't see just now...
"If you please," he spoke up, and Audrey was instantly turned on by his deep sensual voice with that cute accent, "I've set up my tripod, I'll just wait around the front for Miss Prescott and yourself, sir. And I'll thank you not to call me amateur!" With that, he turned and walked away, and Audrey copped a full view of his gorgeous butt and chiselled torso winding away from her.
"Ahem!" the head dresser interrupted. "I think this dress will be great for the new image we're trying to promote for you Audrey, here-"and she helped Audrey into a classic black halterneck dress, "-we'll get these shoes on you too and then you can head over there with Fernando and have your hair and makeup done, O.K?". "Mmm," replied Audrey, still in a dream state. She stepped slowly over to the makeup chair and let the artists take over.
He certainly wasn't her normal type, she thought, as she had her hair teased by the hairdresser. Then what was so sexy? Normally she found herself attracted to the rich all-American playboy with all the cash and all the smooth moves. Maybe it was this boy's attitude. So different from her other men... Maybe it was the accent, or the way he moved, or the needy look in his deep blue eyes that told her so much, told her that he wanted her and wanted her now...
Suddenly it was time to go. Fernando called out to Donovan, and began explaining the 'ideal' composition of the shots to him. He frowned in concentration and looked back and forth from Audrey to Fernando as she stood in the centre of the white stage, waiting for direction, waiting for Donovan.
But Donovan stalled, hushed Fernando, and moved quietly over to a stereo in the corner of the stark white room. Slowly he removed a C.D case from his jacket pocket and put on a smooth, sultry jazz record. "Today, I don't direct you with words, Miss Prescott. I want you to move to the music. The style can't come from this man," he indicated Fernando with a nod, "it has to come from your soul".