Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,1

made her explain. He nearly did, as a matter of fact, but he was suddenly speechless and his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth. Holy good Christ, he was in a porn movie.

There were perhaps five or six half dressed men and women everywhere; some of them were even wearing some sort of sparkles on their body and in their hair. And the bed…hell, is was big enough for all of them.

~~~

Gracie stood frowning at her assistant again. “I still don’t see why I have to model this. I hired you to find people to do this sort of thing. Besides, I have things to do this morning and it doesn’t involve me standing in front of a camera for eight hours straight.”

Becky snorted. “You probably look better in it than that stupid cow Marcie could ever hope to. So unless you have a hot date with a real person and not a toy, forget it. We need this shot today for the cover and you’re the one who designed it.”

Gracie wanted to point out that she was the boss and that she had designed all the outfits on all the covers and inside, but she bit her lip. Becky was right, the magazine had to be completed today or they’d be late in getting the Christmas catalogue out. She glanced over at the calendar. It was only May and she was worrying about a catalogue that was still five months from being sent out.

Looking in the mirror, she thought the design was simply beautiful. She turned to her right then left, looking at the way the color of the bra and panty set complemented her skin color. The pale of her skin against the dark blue of the material was better than she’d hoped for. Unless, of course, she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be the model, but the one behind the camera directing the shoot. She tried again to get someone else to do it and, of course, she was ignored. She wondered, not for the first time, when she’d lost control here. She smiled, knowing that she’d never really had it.

“The model we hired just showed up finally. And for the record, I told them to send him over in a t-shirt and jeans. Not that he doesn’t look scrumptious like he is, but I did tell them.” Margo picked up one of the other outfits that needed to be re-shot. “You know, if I weren’t in a semi-serious failing relationship, I’d have to try and get some of what that guy is hiding under that cool, ‘don’t fucking touch me’ look. I mussed his tie just to see what he’d do.”

“He has on a tie? A suit…” Gracie looked at her assistant. “Tell him to lose the jacket if he has one and to roll up his sleeves. Leave the tie…wait.” Everyone froze. “What color is the tie?”

By the time she had the idea in her head nothing else mattered. She pulled her robe on and walked into the set. Christ, love a dub, he was scrumptious. And he looked pissed. She walked over to him and eyed him critically. Yes, she knew he was going to be perfect.

“Would you mind telling me why this…person is telling me I have to remove my jacket? I assure you that—”

“Don’t talk or I’ll make sure you’re not paid.” She fingered the tie and then looked up at him. “I really think you need to take off the jacket. I’m already behind schedule and you coming here late has put me more behind.” She wasn’t sure he was going to comply, not with the look of murder in his eye. “Now would be a good time to be a good boy and take the fucking jacket off.”

“And if I do, what do you take off?”

She heard the tone. And she hated that her body reacted to it. When he started to unbutton his jacket and then remove it she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. When he laughed, she looked up at his face. “You think this is fun? Well, it’s not. I have ten hours to get this shot right and I won’t put up with your being snarky. This is a photo shoot where I’m the boss and you’re going to do as you’re told. Roll up the sleeves and do what I tell you or you’ll never work here again.”

She knew it was a good threat under normal circumstances, but this guy