Fish Eyes

4

I was a man on a mission.

I'd given the Glees girl exactly a week to come and collect the chip out of the camera, and she never did. I'd gotten the sense that she was lying from the jump. The pictures weren't very good for her to want them in the first place.

But she was good. She had a nice face and a confident physique. Insanely good posture. I thought it wouldn't hurt to coax her back to the studio; however, she'd done no such thing. I'd asked John to let her know I was waiting, and he said he'd told her, but she never showed.

So I was going to her.

I knew that getting her to model would probably be a moot point, seeing as how I'd never seen her face until she randomly showed up to drop the camera back off. This made me curious. She'd never needed a camera before, and she returned it with a bunch of random pictures on it. Not to mention she was clearly a novice. I wondered what she did with her spare time, since she clearly had little interest in the family business.

That evening, I offered to stay until the studio's closing to keep Mr. Glees company after Queenie called out. Mrs. Glees had some type of weekday yoga class to attend, and if I didn't stay, he'd be alone for several hours. I saw this as an opportunity.

"Aye, Mr. Glees? Do you think you could drop me home? I hate getting on the bus this late."

He obliged, and I used that chance to ask a follow-up. "And could we... could we stop by your place also? Your daughter still hasn't come to get this SD card and I'd like to be able to use it again," I half lied. I had at least ten personal SD cards, and I could toss hers in the trash and hardly notice.

"Oh, right. That girl can be so scatterbrained. I think she gets it from me..." he rambled while he dug in a crate, looking for something. "I think she might still have the macro lens for that camera too. She probably won't know what I'm talking about if I ask for it, so could you get that from her too?"

A warmth spread through my chest at how good my luck was. Someone was smiling down at me, had to be.

She had the perfect makings of a muse. Her hair was big, I could tell even as it was pulled behind her at the nape of her neck. Her lips and face overall were smooth and pouty, and I got the impression that she was spoiled. Looking at her parents and the life they'd built for her, it would only make sense.

Her legs went on for miles. When she'd stood in front of me, fixing to drop that camera, we could look each other in the eyes without craning our necks. And she looked about my age.

I blinked, snapping to. I met the girl once, in the middle of doing my job. How had I been able to internalize so much of her form?

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't guilty of flicking through the camera memory to look at her again. She was a stunner.

And maybe, with a little bit more luck, I'd be able to get her back to the studio.

How much money does the photography studio make?

I gaped in awe at the estate. I made decent money working for the Glees family, but my check came nowhere near what their house must cost.

Gathering myself, I got out of the car and prepared to face the girl. I fiddled with the SD card in my hand, suddenly feeling foolish.

Showing up at a stranger's house unannounced? Granted, I'd worked for her parents for over four years at that point, moving through the ranks of apprentice, intern, and now full-time employee, so I wasn't a complete stranger. But this girl probably didn't even remember my name.