The Lover’s Game (No Exceptions #2)(7)
Author: J.C. Reed

Ouch.

Enough insults for a day. It had been a bad idea to come. Obviously, I was wasting my time.

“You might as well have told me straight away that I’m not fit for the job before you wasted my time and yours with all those questions,” I said.

Holding my head high, I stood up and headed for the door. Grayson’s fingers curled around my upper arm, stopping me in my tracks. “I’m not finished.”

I snapped my head back in annoyance, and Grayson let go of my arm. As he caught my glance, his smile vanished, and he returned to his previous reserved self.

“I never said you aren’t a good fit,” he said quietly. “The job is yours, as long as you’re willing to go along with my clients’ demands, and go nude.”

I would never pose nude. Never. The thought was absurd. “What if I don’t agree with something they want?”

He shrugged. “Then you won’t get the job. Given your situation, if you want to earn good money, nude shoots are exactly what you need. Flexibility and the willingness to go nude is how I secure a working contract with a client, not just for a single job but for future work as well. If a client likes working with a particular model, they’ll want to book her again.”

“I work with clients, and am aware of the importance of customer satisfaction,” I remarked dryly. I certainly didn’t need a lecture on that. Sighing, I leaned back and crossed my arms.

He wet his lips carefully in thought, his glance moving from my eyes to my lips, and for an instant, I felt another pang of shame burning through me.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I need you to be flexible.” He spread his hands out. “Your options are limited, not least because you’re not exactly the right height. So, the only option is to offer them more, including a great personality and a little bit of skin.” He paused to take in my reaction. When I remained quiet, he continued. ”I’m not saying you absolutely have to go nude. I’m also not saying you’ll have to go nude for every single work contract. All I’m saying is that you should keep the option open rather than being so judgmental about it, because I have many different clients with many different needs.”

He was probably right, but I wasn’t convinced just yet. “How do you define nude?” I asked.

He leaned forward, so close I could see the little flecks in his blue iris. “Nude can mean a lot of things, Jenna. It can be topless, bikini, or panty. It can even be implied nude, where you cover certain body parts. Many of my clients want that. In this kind of job, as long as you are willing to go nude, you can choose the limit, what you are comfortable with, but some of my clients want to see skin.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be topless, even if I can cover up,” I explained.

“I understand.” He leaned back again and regarded me with an expression I couldn’t place.

For a moment, silence ensued between us.

Awkward silence.

His expression showed hesitation, as though he was considering whether I was really worth the trouble. Or maybe he thought I was an idiot for not taking him up on his offer when he was generous enough to give me a chance. Suddenly, I was reminded of the fact that I was pregnant and had no money. Terrified that I might not find another well-paying job anytime soon. After college, I had been unemployed for nine months, only to land a poor-paying job. What if I had to wait another nine months to secure my next position? Besides, who would hire a mother-to-be with a child on the way?

This pregnancy would change my body, and not for the better. What if there was no job at all for me in the near future, unless I agreed to taking off my clothes or…worse?

My God.

My heart slumped in my chest.

As much as I hated the idea of being half-nude or naked, I figured I could tolerate it for the time being—as long as I could use my arms and hands to cover up and I still had the confidence, no stretch marks, good skin, and felt more or less human, without the urge to throw up or pee.

“You know, those strict morals won’t get you far in this industry,” Grayson remarked. “I did worse to build up my career and get it going. The girls you saw out there use their jobs as a backup, to get started.”

What the heck did he mean by “strict morals?” Was it such a bad thing that I preferred not to show my private business to the entire world? I swallowed the lump in my throat, suddenly afraid that Grayson might find me too difficult to work with, that he had the impression I was too proud.

“As long as I’m not butt naked, I’ll be okay with it,” I said and raised my head defiantly. “Obviously, I prefer clothes, but if there are really no other options, then I’ll do it. But I won’t do more than that, and it has to be tasteful and classy at all times.” I was about to add, “Take it or leave it,” then decided against it. He seemed like a nice guy; there was no need to alienate or insult him and his line of work.

Grayson unscrewed his pen and scribbled something on the paper. Eventually, he dropped his pen on the desk and crossed his ankles in front of him, staring at the floor.

“Jenna, it’s not about me. It’s about them—my clients.” He sighed. “This is a supply-and-demand business, and my clientele can be very specific in their demands. They often come to me with certain expectations and demand that my models follow through with them. No exceptions. I can’t afford to hire models who refuse to comply with the requests. It would be bad for my reputation, not to mention unprofessional. Do you understand?”

“I understand, however—” Leaving the rest unspoken, I drew a sharp breath, ready to stand my ground. “So where does this leave me?”

Grayson clasped his hands together and began to tap his thumbs in thought. “What I can do for you is add you to our model catalog today and see how my clients react,” he said. “I’ll let them know your limits. We might get some interest at some point, but I can’t promise you anything. Most want models who are…open. I cannot state the importance of that. It all depends on my clients and your willingness to do what they expect of you.”

“So until then, there’ll be no work contract for me?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. No contracts equaled no job offers, which, in turn, equaled no money. “At some point” could mean anything. It could be the next week or next month. It could even be the next year. I had no time for waiting. Besides, patience had never been my thing.