“<span>Mrs.Mattley,”Icall out from across the room, “can you arch your back and stick your butt out a little more, or will that be bothersome for your arthritis?”
Myassistant,Lennox, blinks at me asIlower myCanon, peeling my eyes away from theLCDscreen.Iroll my eyes at her. “Yeah,Iheard it,”Imutter under my breath.
“Weirdsentence, man.Just<i ss="calibre2">weird.</i>”Lennoxlets out a breathy chuckle.
Thereis a seventy-year-old woman kneeling next to arge wooden-framed bed, trying her best to squeeze her breasts together and form some semnce of cleavage.Igroan.
<i ss="calibre2">Thisisn’t working.</i>
“Shelooks so ufortable,”Lennoxsays as she bumps her elbow against mine. “Ifeel bad for her.Weneed to start putting an age cap on these photo shoots.”
“<i ss="calibre2">Hush.</i>She’selderly, not deaf,”Isay in a low tone. “Thisis really fucking brave of her.Besupportive and hope you’re this cool when you’re in your seventies.”Ishoot her a warning look. “Goget me the really big red pillows from the main living room.”
Lennoxstalls, her brows furrowing.Shestaged this set meticulously, down to the antique jewelry box sitting on the mirrored dresser.Sheeven sanded and stained the wooden saloon doors because they weren’t the exact right shade for the photo shoot.
Thisset is the only reason my business is somewhat afloat.Notevery woman wants their boudoir photographer to be male, whichIunderstand.Ireally thinkI’mthe best in the business.Iknow how to make a woman feelfortable, respected, and championed, but they have to take a chance and actually hire me to understand that.ButtheWesternsetLennoxdesigned sways enough business our way.Wehave a lot riding on the fact that apparently every woman wants to be photographed as a sexy cowgirl.
Lennoxis very particr about the set andIjust asked her to bring in impromptu props that she did not approve.<i ss="calibre2">Tough.Dealwith it.</i>I’mthe boss.Shedesigned the set, butIrun the shoot.Ihandle the clients when it matters most.Ittakes a very special personality to run a boudoir photography business—zero snark, snickers, and judgment allowed. “Hustle, girl.”ShooingLennoxoff the set,Igrab a mini bottle of water off the break table toward the back of the room.
“Hereyou go,Mrs.Mattley.”Ihand her the water bottle afterItwist off the cap. “You’redoing really great.Howabout a little break?”Holdingher elbow firmly,Ihelp her off her knees and guide her to sit. “There.Better?”
Shenods and rubs her aching knees.
<i ss="calibre2">Poorthing.</i>Ireally didn’t take into consideration how difficult some of these positions could be on her body.Eventhe tops of her bare feet are red from pressing against the wooden floorboards for so long.Ican touch up the photos and remove the angry red pigment, but whileI’llmess with lighting and background blurring all day,Itry not to touch up the models too much and disturb their authentic beauty.That’sthe point of all this.<i ss="calibre2">Natural.</i>
Sittingdown next to her,Irest my back against the bed’s wooden footboard.
“Theydon’t look good, do they?Thepictures?CanIsee?”
Turningmy head,Ilook into her steel-blue eyes with wrinkles around the corners.Evenat seventy,Irecognize the vulnerability.Mostof the womenIshoot are at least topless.Some, fully nude.Ofcourse, notMrs.Mattley.She’smore on the modest side, so the sexiest outfit we nned for her was a cap sleeve leather catsuit with a very low-cutV-neck for a little edge.
“Youknow the rules.”Igive her a little wink.Inever let my clients see their photos until the shoot is over.Insecurityis evil.Itcreeps into their minds and poisons the entire shoot.Theyeither be too shy or ovepensate by contorting their bodies into weird positions, trying to hide the bits they’re most ashamed of.Thesecret to this kind of photography is bold confidence.Theycan see the photos afterI’veworked my magic. “Butfor your peace of mind, you are by far the most beautiful womanI’vephotographed on this set.”Igive her a dashing smile and she snorts out loud.
Pattingmy cheek with her dainty hand that’s a little too cool to the touch, she says, “Finn, sweetheart, you are such a sweet young boy…and so fucking full of shit.”
NowIsnort inughter. “Mrs.Mattley!Language,”Isay, pretending to clutch my pearls. “Ithought you were a ssy broad.ButImean it.Youlook great.”Ipat her knee reassuringly.
Sheshoots me a teasing smile. “Mygoodness,Finn.Areyou flirting with me?”
Suckingin my lips,Ilevel a stare right into her eyes. “Now, we both knowMr.Mattleywould descend from above and kick my sorry ass for making a move on his lovely widow.”Iwink.
Mrs.Mattleypresses against her chest like her cackling hurts. “Ascend, honey.”
“What’sthat?”
“<i ss="calibre2">Ascend.</i>”Shepoints down. “It’ssweet that you thinkMr.Mattleyis in heaven.Thatold grumpy fart is looking up at us as we speak.”
Ican’t help but join in her yfulughter.
“Buthe was<i ss="calibre2">my</i>grumpy man.Hisentirepany hated him for being such a hard-ass, but he treated me like a princess.Iwas his soft spot.”
Mrs.Mattleybooked the luxury package.Hete husband was a very sessful investment banker, so she has all kinds of money she doesn’t know what to do with.So, for eight thousand dors, over the course of three months, we’ve spent ample time together as we measured for her wardrobes for three different sets and had numerous meetings about her vision for the photographs.Wehand-picked the final packaging—which forMrs.Mattleywill be a custom, white,Italianleather-bound photo book and three giant canvases.It’sbeen a genuine pleasure getting to know her over the past few months.I’dgo as far as calling her a friend at this point.It’snice.Inever knew my grandmother.Isincerely hope she was half as delightful asMrs.Mattley.
“Whatdo you think he’d say about all this?”
She’squiet for a moment, a touch of sadness coating her eyes.Ican’t imagine how lonely she is.Heronly daughter lives inNewYork.Mrs.Mattleyis terrified of flying, so seeing her daughterRoseand her granddaughter is a rare treat when she can pull herself away from the office and fly out toLasVegas.
Shesqueezes my shoulder and her lips spread into a devilish smile. “He’dtell me to take my top off.”
Weboth burst intoughter asLennoxwalks back into the room holding two red velvet pillows, sorge, they nearly hide her entire body.
“Therewe go!”Ihop to my feet to relieveLennoxof one pillow.
“Whatare weughing about?”Lennoxasks.
“Oh,Mrs.Mattleywas just telling me she’d like to try the second half of the shoot topless.”
Lennox’sjaw drops and she turns beet red.Stilughing like a loon,Mrs.Mattleywaves her hand in our direction. “Oh, calm down, honey.”Shewinks atLennox. “IfItook my top off,Finnyhere wouldn’t be able to control himself, and it’s very unprofessional to get randy with your boudoir photographer.”Sheblows a kiss in my direction asIsalute her.
“That’sright.Dutyfirst.Allprofessional here.”
Lennoxchuckles. “Ithink you’re in the clear,Mrs.Mattley.”Lennoxshes me a half-smile with a conniving expression. “Hecan’t have sex.”
“What?”Mrs.Mattleyasks asIpat the floor, instructing her to lie down.Iprop her elbow up on one of the red pillows and fluff her white hair that has been fixed into soft, full waves. “You’recelibate?Ithought that was a tradition that’s dying with my generation.”
Rollingmy eyes,Igrumble. “I’mnot celibate.I’mabstinent.Here, slide your elbow forward just a bit.”
Sheadjusts andI’msatisfied.
“Good.Wheredo you feel the tension?”
“Myback.”
Igrab the other pillow fromLennoxand tuck it behind her back. “How’sthat feel?”
Shesighs with a smile. “Sfortable,Icould take a nap.”
“Good.Youlook great.”Inthis position,Mrs.Mattleylooks rxed, meaning her face won’t be pinched in torture asItake pictures. “Nowpop that back knee up for me and let’s get back to it.”
“Wait, wait,”Mrs.Mattleyprotests, “why are you abstinent?Thatwon’t do.You’reruining my whole n,Finny.Iwas trying to set you up with my daughter when shees to visit next month.Doyou like kids?”
Iscrew up my face asIadjust my camera settings.Distracted,Iask, “Isn’tyour daughter married?”
“Separated.Soonto be divorced.”
“Ah,I’msorry to hear that.”
Mrs.Mattleysnorts. “I’mnot.Herhusband, like mine, is a grumpy asshole, except he has no soft spot.Hetreats myRosielike garbage.Ifhe didn’t treat my grandbaby so well,I’dfly out there and beat him with a crowbar myself.”
“Soyou’d finally brave a flight to beat a man up?”
Shecurls up her lips in a snarl. “Desperatetimes, desperate measures.”
ugh at her feistiness. “Well,Isincerely hope the best forRoseand your granddaughter…what’s her name?”
“Arielle.”
“Prettyname,”Isay. “AndIdo like children, butI’mtaking a break from dating at the moment.”
“Why’sthat?”
Ipull my eyes from my camera settings to blink atMrs.Mattley. “Well, isn’t someone a nosey little bird, today?”
Sheshrugs. “I’mseventy-four,Finny.I’mallowed to be nosey.”
Muchto my annoyance,Lennoxjumps in on my behalf to exin. “Finnhad a psycho ex—super controlling, jealous, and”—she nces at my irritated expression—“I’mjust going to say it—rageful.Anyway, they had an extremely toxic, vtile rtionship for a long time and when he finally broke it off about eight months ago, he went a little buck wild.”
“Buckwild?”Mrs.Mattleyasks asIflush in embarrassment.
Lennox, ignoring my red cheeks, continues, “Onemorning he waste for a shoot and whenIchecked on him,Ifound not one, but two naked women in his bed.”
“Ohmy.”Mrs.Mattleycovers her mouth.
Lennox’ssmile grows wider if it’s even possible. “Oh, but he wasn’t in bed,Mrs.Mattley.Hewas in the shower…with the third woman who spent the night.”
“Lennox!”Isnap in irritation.Ihold up one palm in a what-the-fuck motion. “Forthe love ofGod.”
“What?”Sheshrugs innocently. “Sheasked.”
Lennoxis my assistant, but she’s also my cousin and best friend since childhood, so basically, she lives to give me shit.
“Whatshe’s trying to say,”Iexin, still ring atLennox, “is thatIfelt a little lost after my breakup and admittedly had a little too much<i ss="calibre2">fun</i>, soI’mtaking a break.Likea pte cleanser if you will.”
It’sthe absolute most tame way to exin myself.AfterNoraandIbroke up,I’dlose myself for days at a time.Allthe things she used me of while we were together,<i ss="calibre2">thatInever did</i>—Idove right into out of spite.Ilive just off theLasVegasStripandItook full advantage.Iwent on benders for days straight.Ipartied, binge-drank, and fucked.Ifucked so much,Istopped feeling my orgasms.Theonly real evidence of my climax was the messI’dleave behind.Iwas numb…my heart waspletely numb.
Ithad to stop.Aftermonths of pressing the self-destruct button,Ineeded to stop.
“Finn, honey,”Mrs.Mattleysays, pressing her palm against my cheek. “MayIgive you some advice, dear?Fromyour elder.”
Inod into her hand. “Ofcourse you can.”
“Youare young, dashingly handsome, and have a body fit enough to captain a ship.”
Ince atLennoxfrom the corner of my eyes.Herperplexed expression tells meI’mnot the only one who finds thatpliment odd.
Mrs.Mattleycontinues, “You’regoing to blink and be an old, withered mess like me.So, while you have the stamina that you do”—she shes me a devilish smile—“stick your thing in everything you want.Imean, use a condom for goodness’ sake, but have fun,Finny.”
Lennoxbursts outughing.Shewraps her arms around her ribs to try to control her heaving.
Mydry mouth falls open. “Mrs.Mattley—”
“I’mserious,Finn.Aslong as you’re safe, what’s wrong with making as many<i ss="calibre2">connections</i>as you can?Youonly get one life.”
<i ss="calibre2">Nothing,Isuppose.Butwhat happens when sex no longer feels like connecting?</i>
“Youknow,IthinkI’velearned more about you in this one session thanI’velearned in months of knowing you.”
Mrs.Mattleyflicks her hair with sass, causingLennoxto fall into a fit ofughter, tears beginning to form at the corner of her eyes. “I…love…her…” she says between gasping chuckles.
“Thisis what happens when you put me in skin-tight leather,” she exins. “Youget the devil.”
“Allright, you randy little minx, save some of that energy, would you?”Rising,Itap my camera<i ss="calibre2">gently</i>.Thiscamera is worth half a year of car payments.Isquint at theLCDdisy to confirm we still have the perfect lighting pouring in from therge windowpanes to the right of the studio.ThenIget bossy. “Allright, tilt your chin likeIshowed you—ah!No, stop that.”
“Stopwhat?”Mrs.Mattleyfreezes in ce, startled, likeItold her there was a giant spider on her head.
“Whatare you doing with your mouth?”Iask, watching her try to pucker her thin lips awkwardly.
“I’mtold it’s called duckface.It’ssupposed to be ttering.”
Palmingmy forehead,Ishake my head adamantly. “Itis not and stop that.<i ss="calibre2">Natural</i>,”Iremind her. “That’swhat looks best.Don’ttry so hard.”
“Well, are you going to fix these pictures with all yourPhotoshopmagic whenIlook like a wilted, decrepit, old widow?”
Groaning,Iabandon my perfect positioning and squat down soI’mlevel with her eyes.Withoutlooking,Ijut my thumb over my shoulder at the giant sign on the back of the studio wall. “Readit.”
Mrs.Mattleyblinks at me, unimpressed.
“Outloud,”Idemand.Thesign is an eight-by-four-foot white canvas, with simple words scrawled in ck calligraphy.It’smounted to the back of the studio wall so that no matter where you are on the set, the client can read it clear as day.Aconstant reminder…
“You’rebeautiful.You’reworthy,” she mumbles.
“Mhm,”Isay, looking into her blue eyes. “Nowhereon that sign does it say ‘wilted’ andI’mcertainI’venever uttered the word ‘decrepit’ in here.”Ibrush my thumb against her cheek that’s tinted with a perfect blush, thanks to the makeup artist who was here not two hours ago. “You<i ss="calibre2">are</i>beautiful.You<i ss="calibre2">are</i>worthy.Soact like it,Mrs.Mattley.”Standingagain,Iback away a few paces and raise my camera once more. “Juststare over my shoulder at that sign and give me a simple smile.”
Onceher shoulder rxes and she’s mastering the ttering poses without distorting her body, the camera bes obsessed.Iclick away furiously, capturing her energy that’s growing bolder by the minute.
<i ss="calibre2">This</i>is the reasonIwork so hard at my job.Thereward is seeing a woman believe in her own magic.<i ss="calibre2">This</i>certainly isn’t sex…
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