by Tyla Walker
Hold up. Why am I hiding? Why am I afraid of them? Who are they to me? They don't feed me. They don't pay me. They do nothing for me, and will probably do nothing still even after I let myself get tenure here. So why am I so afraid of them?
"As I was saying," one of them continues as their scuttle goes on. "I'm glad she's in marketing! But still... you know, she isn’t fit to be part of the brand."
A fit of outrageous evil laughter echoes through and off of the tiles.
"As if?" says another one.
I frown, damn, how can they measure a person's worth with their size? I bet I can do my work better than these gossiping girls.
The girls finally leave, and I get myself out of this damn cubicle, freshen up and head on to dinner with Devon. Seeing him will make me forget the ordeal I had to face, or hear, with those biatches. Just me and Devon.
Devon. I sigh. In my mind, that is. I can't wait to see him again. See his gorgeous face. Those soft, slim lips. His bulging shoulders and biceps. And his… bulge. What? I took a peek. I'm human. And boy, am I glad that I did!
I very easily forget what had just occurred at the office today. Sitting here in front of Mr. 5'11" with blue eyes and fair skin. He oozes sexy and mysterious, but at the same time, sincere. Either that or I'm totally in a halo-effect right now.
I don't give it all away, of course. I try to control my emotions and reactions. It's difficult because when we talk over dinner and wine, it's as if we've known each other for over a year. And Devon makes me laugh. Not many guys have his kind of humor. And I love it.
The evening speeds by quickly; I don't even notice it's already past midnight. Devon very kindly drives me back to my aunt. Upon reaching, he shuts the car engine, steps out of the vehicle itself, and opens the door on my side.
My god, he's a gentleman, too? Kill me now. Or don't. Just an expression.
"That was a lovely dinner," I tell him, purposeful in not mentioning his name. Part of me wants to call him Devon, and the other part of me wants me to keep things professional and call him by his last name.
I reach out to shake his hand.
He looks at it and smiles as though he was amused by something. He gently holds it, brings it close to his face, and kisses it.
Dear god! I'm feeling hot! Look out folks, heavy wetness on its way.
Seven
Devon
The auditorium looks empty.
It's just the managing team of XYZ seated on the first row, facing the stage. It has the interior of a typical auditorium, but there's a runway elegantly placed in the middle, specially designed for fashion shows.
I focus my attention on the backstage. Comparing it outside, it's jampacked — the whole place is a mess. Models are coming in and out of the makeshift dressing rooms stalls. Makeup artists on their stations.
Designers making last-minute adjustments on their final pieces. It's just a dry run, but the tension is felt throughout the area.
It feels like the actual fashion show already. The XYZ managing team is so picky and demands specific physical attributes from our agency that I have to deliver.
The models are repositioning themselves for their last walk. They are the chosen ten to represent the agency for a group audition here at XYZ, and so far, they are doing a good job.
I do one last sweep of the whole shebang before I make my way to the audience area. There, I find Jenna sitting by herself in the last row.
She doesn't see me at first, so I gently tap her on the shoulder, and she turns her head towards me.
"This is the last set," I whisper to her.
"Oh, okay. Then I guess, It's time for the photoshoot," Jenna gets up and grabs a stack of papers.
I lead her to the back door where there's a connected hall towards the photo studio. We walk inside, and as soon as we enter, the whole studio's already set up.
The place is slowly getting full with the models. They are standing on the sides, waiting for their turn.
We stand by near the photographer and observe them. Each time a photo is taken, a tablet receives it. It's beside the camera equipment. I motion for Jenna to come closer so we could view it.
Nigel, the photographer, compliments each model he photographs, and I can't help but smile. My chest is swelling with pride. I carefully handpick all my models each time for the client, and I make sure it would fit the criteria and their brand.
Nigel strikes up a conversation, "They're not the typical 'skinny barely eats wide white eye blonde chick' — they have substance."
He's not looking at me but angling his camera better to shoot the models.
"Their eyes don't just project for the camera. They tell a story, and their poses are fluid and natural."
I nod in agreement, and I can still hear the click of his shutter, "I photograph men and women all day. And let me tell you they are not stiff like most of the models I capture. I also notice that they're very diverse and not just for the sake of the brand, but they each have their beauty to give to the camera."
I look and realize the person who also has those qualities is standing beside me. Jenna's unaware of how beautiful she is. Her body had a curve that seemed endless, and I wanted to glide my hands through that linen blouse.
Jenna carries herself so elegantly, but she doesn't seem prideful. Her back arches in a gentle curve and her features are breathtaking. She has these beautiful eyes that captivate people.
It makes you notice her even if she doesn't ask for attention. Even when she's not doing anything, it's like she's still posing naturally.
Jenna's underrated, and I'm one hundred percent sure that she's not even aware of the kind of beauty she possesses. She oozes grace and charm, but she never cared to consider herself.
I turn my head to Nigel, "Do you think you can take a few photos of Jenna as well?"
"What? Me? Um, no way," Jenna freezes and starts to stutter.
"Come on just for fun," I tease. Nigel agrees with me because he's already adjusting his camera again.
To ease her discomfort, I go first. I stand and pose normally.
"So, the tip here is to just let your body naturally move. Don't force it," I give a small performance and do a few more until I step out of the set.
I touch her on her arm, and she reluctantly steps inside the frame and stands. I tell her to relax because I feel her muscles lose its tension. The photographer starts taking photos of her, and he orders.
"Serve it to me, girl!"
And so, Jenna did.
She does it slowly. Looking at the camera and her hand holding the curve of her waist. Until she experiments a few different poses and the photographer hypes her.
I observe her from Nigel's side. She's captivating me with her beauty. She's giving me 'the look and the feel' yet, she didn't even come here to audition.
I focus my attention on the screen where the photos were automatically coming in. The shoot is over, and Jenna shuffles quietly to me.
She gives a small, shy laugh, "It's that bad, huh?"
I don't look at her, but I reply, "Where have you been all my life?"
She remains quiet, but I can feel her blush. I lead Jenna to the viewing room.
It was just the two of us in a tiny room with a one-way mirror, and the photos will be directly sent to us.
"Wow, fancy," she whistles.
"Even I don't have this in my building," I chuckle in reply.
"Imagine if they just spent it on their own models instead of booking from agencies," she zones on.
I cut her off with a hint of mischief in my eyes, "Don't give them ideas. I might go bankrupt."
We laugh at our silly jokes and banter. Jenna's helping me decide which would pass through the screening.
I'm actually having a wonderful time with her. I didn't expect to have fun during work hours with my employee, but she makes it so enjoyable, even just by her presence.
I had a fun time just talking and watching her photos. Jenna's naturally beautiful, and she's ble
ssed in all the right areas. She could be a great model.
What is she doing behind the camera when she deserves to star in front?
She's looking at the photos, "They're beautiful."
But I was looking at her, "Yes, you are."
She stops and looks at me, and I barely notice that we're already inches apart from each other.
I inch closer, and I put my hand on her waist. I press my lips on her lips. She drops the papers that she's holding.
I push her against the door, and we share a passionate kiss. It's hungry, and we both had our hands around each other until she abruptly stops and pushes me away.
I'm shocked and a little hurt as to why she'd stop such a passionate make-out session. She gestures behind me, and I follow it. Nigel and the others are already heading this way.
She hurriedly grabs the papers that fell on the floor, and she fixes the knots in her hair. I ruffle my hair, so it looks messy but not intended. It's all fun and games until you have to get back to work. Bummer.
Eight
Jenna
I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes meet with a reflection of a woman I don't recognize. I never saw myself as very beautiful, but I never felt ugly enough to be insecure. I'd like to believe I'm contented with my form.
Back in Georgia, I was considered popular with how I looked. I had a body to die for, and people envied me for my shape and for my shade. I had men falling on my feet and girls asking what skincare I was doing or which I went to when I was all-natural.
Now? I've been standing inside the Philadelphia Zoo bathroom for about five minutes now, and all I do is pinpoint my flaws. I feel like I can just hide here all day.
I notice how fit the sleeves are on my huge arms and how my belly rolls are visible through the thin fabric. My butt looks fat in these jean shorts as well.
Seriously, my self-esteem took a hit.
I know I'm heavier than most girls in this city, but I thought it won't matter. I feel the weight of everyone's stare on me, and it only made me feel so conscious about my outer appearance.
It's impossible to throw all of this under the rug and forget about it since I am faced with it every day. In the office, I have my co-workers' and their need to comment on how I look just because they look skinny enough to be models.
Even here in the zoo, I can feel the stares behind my back. They're probably wondering how I got a hunk like Devon going on a date with an average me.
In fact, I don't blame them. I've been wondering how, in Devon's right mind, did he decide to ask me out.
I'm actually having so much fun on this date. With Devon, I feel like I don't need to pretend; I'm just me. It feels like I'm walking on cloud nine, and he makes everything feel so light and easy.
I focus my eyes back on my reflection before shaking my head. I can't have these thoughts. He's probably waiting for me and wondering what's taking me so long.
As I walk back to the bench near the ticket booth, he catches me and gives me that comforting smile. I feel my knees weaken with every step, and I know I'm starting to fall for him.
"Did you wait long?" I ask him. He gives me a nonchalant shrug paired with that gorgeous smile.
"Not at all," Devon replies.
We roam around the zoo a little more. We go inside the life-size aquarium and attend the dolphin show until it's starting to get dark. I barely noticed how distracted I am from my thoughts because I'm genuinely having a good time with Devon.
He did an excellent job at distracting me even when he didn't know exactly what I'm going through right now. There are times he would look back at me with his comforting smiles, and it would make my heart melt each time.
"It's already around dinner time. Would you mind eating out with me?" Devon asks as we head to his car. I nod my head, wanting to prolong this moment.
When we reach the restaurant, the air shifts to a serious mood because of the ambiance of the place. We both feel the humor turns into sexual tension, but I still can't grasp the idea of why Devon would take me for a date.
"Something on your mind?" he gently asks.
I muster up the courage, but all I could say was, "Why me?"
He furrows his brows as if gesturing me to elaborate more, and I do.
"You own a modeling agency, right?" I swallow."So, you're familiar with what's hot, beautiful, or sexy. I don't understand why out of all the girls you probably have lining for you. I'm the one seated in front of you tonight.
Devon gazes at me.
"I'm skeptical that this is all a joke to you because frankly, I don't want to waste my time," I say directly.
Devon puts both of his elbows on the table and intertwines his fingers.
"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be the one seated in front of me right now, Jenna."
I try to avoid his gaze and look down... but he has this pull on me.
"I'm confused as to why you're questioning your worth because if you want an answer from me, you already have it from the start."
I feel my throat dry, and Devon continues, "You're beautiful, and I shouldn't have to say something so obvious even to the blind. I like you because you aren't any of those models. I like you, Jenna... because you're you."
I feel the sting in my eyes. I'm trying to hold back the tears that are fighting to fall. Devon stands a little to move his chair closer to mine until our faces are inches apart.
"I want to be around you because I enjoy your company. Will you allow me that?"
I'm speechless... then, Devon moves his face closer to mine until he slowly pulls me into a kiss, and I obliged. The kiss is slow, but it feels hungry. I can feel the heat radiating from both of us, and I want nothing more than for him to take me on this dinner table.
It feels like we are the only people in the restaurant. I'm just lucky we are sitting at the edge so no one can enjoy the show we are putting on.
He slides his hand between the hem of my shorts and my leg, and I feel it inch in. As much as I want to taste him more, I pull his hand away. I unwillingly end the kiss, and we are both panting.
I wait until we are both done catching our breath, but before any of us can talk, our waiter comes in with the food ready on his tray.
We thank the waiter, but our eyes are still on each other. I notice the twinkle in his eyes, it looks like he's planning something sinister to my peace of mind. I feel a shiver down my spine with the thought of what he could do to me.
"It would be best if you aren't so easy to fall for this," a voice in my head screams.
I shake my foolish thoughts away and focus on the thing I'm actually worried about. If Devon's adamant in pursuing me, he has a bigger challenge than just making me say yes.
What will he feel when I tell him our worlds are just so different? He's a billionaire while I'm just struggling to make ends meet. He's out there handling dozens of aspiring and professional models while I'm busy taking care of my son.
Will he still like me for being me?
Nine
Devon
It has only been a few hours since I dropped Jenna home, but I am still worked up about that kiss we shared during dinner. Our lips tangled with a fiery passion, and our hands intertwined. I knew that we were inches away from stripping each other naked if we weren't in public.
Usually, I won't make a big deal out of situations I've already been in several times, but somehow it bothered me the entire night. I decide to leave my room to cool myself down. I head towards the fridge and crack open a cold bottle of beer before I sit on the couch.
I try to drown my thoughts as I turn the television on, but I continue to think of Jenna. My hand fiddles with the remote control, aimlessly switching from channel to channel. I can't seem to find a decent show, or maybe I just couldn't concentrate on what's in front of me.
To me, the box just showed static because my focus is on a certain lady that I can't keep my hands from.
Earlier today, the tension was so thick that even a knife couldn't cu
t it. We were throwing innuendos back and forth at the dinner table. I could've fucked Jenna there and then. I was sure she was giving me hints on how she wanted the night to end, but she never responded to any of my advances.
She was giving hints, but she never gave me an actual signal, so I stayed still. I felt like a hungry, rabid dog being told to sit and wait in front of a delicious meal. Looking back, I was confused if she was actually into me or if she was playing along.
It was such a flirty, playful night, but when I offered to get drinks at my place, she declined right off the bat. It seemed like she didn't even give herself time to think it through; she was just so sure to say no.
I didn't let her see how devastated and caught off guard I was with her rejection, so like the gentleman that I am, I still offered to take her home.
When we reached her front yard, she turned to me as she unbuckled her seat belt and thanked me for a wonderful night. What shocked me was the kiss she gave me before she hurriedly leaves the passenger seat. I froze even after she shuts the front door and heads for her patio.
Her actions the entire night confused me to no end, but it only made her more intriguing to my eyes. I watched as she closed her apartment door, and I drive home.
It's like she bewitched me. Jenna has this spell cast over me, and I can't put my finger on it. Her whole existence is like a light in a dark tunnel. The whole situation is new for me because I'm so used to girls fawning over me.
Most of my prospects can't even resist the Devon charm at first glance, but this girl is unlike any other.
I'm not sure what kind of game she's playing because I'm usually the expert player of the game called love. She has cards up her sleeve that I can't read. Did she intend to make a fool out of me? Or maybe she's genuinely interested but wanted to take things slow?
