Strange Days Ch. 27-32

There were no chairs on my side of the desk, and I didn't think he wanted me to sit on the couch across the room from him. I stood there with my hands folded in front of me while he looked me up and down. He looked me at me with such impatience that I wanted to bolt from the room. I felt so out of my league here.

"You are Amy Carter?" he said so suddenly that my shoulders jumped a little. He had a heavy accent too, probably French.

"Y-yes, sir," I stammered and jerked a quick nod.

"You know who I am?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, sir."

He narrowed his gaze. "How old are you, little girl?"

"Eighteen," I told him.

"And you do not know who I am?" He asked incredulously.

I shook my head again.

He spread his hands. "Then why are you here?"

Personally, I thought it was kind of obvious why I was here. "For a job, sir."

"But you do not know who I am!" He exclaimed, as though I should know everything about him. "So why do you come here?" He paused to waggle his hands about in frustration. "Why not a portrait studio then, eh? Why come to Jean Pierre Loree?"

"Because that's not what I love," I told him, unsure of what else to say.

He paused again and stared at me. "What do you love?"

"Feeling," I said. "Portrait studios don't capture that."

He took a breath and let it out. "And dis is what you bring to show me? Feeling?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Hmph," he snorted, stood up from his chair and pushed it aside, then held out his hand. "Well, let us see your work."

I fished the flash drive out of my pocket and approached the desk to place it in his hand. Jean Pierre snatched it out of my hand and jammed it into one of the USB ports on the slim computer behind him. He clicked the mouse a few times, but I couldn't see the small LCD screen, so I wasn't sure what he was doing. I assumed he was browsing my photos, but then the first of them flashed up on the huge monitor on the wall. From his desk, Jean Pierre picked up a remote and began progressing through the shots, one after another, and rather quickly. These weren't my favorite shots, but they were good, mostly my more recent fashion photography. Still, I wished I'd put my favorites up first, especially given his initial reaction.

"Shit, shit, shit," he spat as each photo came up. "Boreeng, droll, plain, no life."

The litany continued through two dozen shots. Jean Pierre punched on the speaker phone on his desk and dialed a number, then barked out, "Monsieur Darren!"

"S-sir?" The man, who I assumed to be Darren Wilcox, replied anxiously.

"You have brought me shit!" Jean Pierre wined at a high pitch. "You swear to me, 'oh, but Monsieur Loree, dis Amy's work is beautiful, perfection, glorious', and here I stand, staring at shit!" The line was quiet, and Jean Pierre screeched. "Do you hear me? I say shit!"

I wanted to run from the room again, I was so mortified.

"Git in here!" Jean Pierre yelled and dropped the call.

I swear to you, Darren burst through the door two seconds later. He was a few years older than me, but not by much. His dirty blonde hair was stylishly messy, and an untucked dress shirt fit

him nicely, hanging over faded jeans. His eyes were a startling blue, and his skin was tanned a deep bronze.

Darren glared at me, then waved his hands at Jean Pierre. "Sir, I'm so sorry!" Darren apologized. "I told her to spice up her portfolio before she came in!"

"Spice?" Jean Pierre rounded on us, but he was yelling at Darren. He jerked the remote at the monitor and clicked through more photos. "Spice?!" He screeched, then his face turned red. "Do you see spice here?!"

Darren shook his head, then one of my photos of Sarah at the windows came up. When Jean Pierre, still staring at us, clicked to the next picture, Darren jerked his hand out to stop the slide show. "Wait! Go back!"

With a huff, Jean Pierre clicked back and turned around, then he said. "Oh."

That was it. One of my favorite photos, one I was so proud of, a picture of who I thought to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and all Jean Pierre had to say was 'oh'.

"Is not so bad," he shrugged.

Fuck it. I was done. I growled and turned to stomp out of the office. Let him keep the flash drive, or throw it away, if he thought my work was trash.

Darren whispered fiercely and reached for my arm, but I jerked away from him. "Amy, wait!"

"Oh. Oh my," Jean Pierre said quietly, and with awe.

I stopped, and both Darren and I looked at the monitor. It was one of the first shots from the session with Phillip and Mona, when she had been making love to his cock with her mouth. Of course, Phillip and his member were out of focus, but not the pleasure on Mona's pretty face.

Jean Pierre slow, very slowly, clicked through the pictures.

"Yes," Darren whispered triumphantly. He reached for me again, but this time, I didn't move away. He grasped my shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "Well done."

"Yes," Jean Pierre said quietly, slowly walking backwards from the monitor, I guess so that he could see it better, and he was nodding as he went. Pictures of Phillip and Mona clicked by, and Jean Pierre grew more and more animated. "Yes, yes, yes. Dis is what I look for."

When he reached the last shot, Jean Pierre wheeled about on his heel and stared at me, then he nodded once and stabbed a finger in my direction. "You will not fuck de models!"

I blinked. "I don't-I don't know what you mean."

Darren clapped his hands together loudly, and Jean Pierre glared at him before returning his attention to me.

"Is policy," Jean Pierre said. "Fuck whomever you wish, but not when they work for me. Undarestood?"

"Wait," I held up a hand, unsure if I was understanding him through his accent, not to mention having been so certain he hated my portfolio. "Are you hiring me?"

"Do not geet so aheed of yourself, little girl!" he waved a hand at me and turned back to click backwards through the photos. "Three month contract only!"

I was speechless.

"Everyone starts there," Darren whispered from beside me.

"Go!" Jean Pierre barked at us, still watching the pictures fly by on the monitor. Darren took my arm to walk me out, then Jean Pierre said, "Wait!"

The shot of Sarah was up again.

Jean Pierre motioned at it and looked at me. "Who is dis?"

"My girlfriend," I told him meekly.

Jean Pierre raised an eyebrow, grinned, then growled fiercely as he turned back to the shot of Sarah. "Especially no fucking de models!"

Darren chuckled. When I looked at him, he told me quietly. "Most of the models are women."

He started to walk us out again, but Jean Pierre stopped us once more. "Who does she work for?"

I turned to look at him. "Sarah?"

He waved a hand at me impatiently. "Yes, yes. Who?"

"Nobody," I shook my head. "She doesn't model."

Jean Pierre raised an eyebrow, then snorted. "We shall see."

"Wait, you want..." I started to ask if he wanted to hire Sarah too, but Darren grabbed my arm again.

"Come on," he said, pulling me out of the office. "That's our cue to go."

Darren led me back downstairs, only not to the lobby. He led me through a door that opened up onto what I first thought was a warehouse floor, then I noticed all of the lights and stages. Huge black drapes hung from the ceilings, separating the shooting areas from one another.

"This is where you'll be working," Darren gestured around us.

I marveled at the various stages. Most of them were one kind of bedroom after another, some seedy, others sophisticated, and a few that were modern or fantastical. There was one that, I swear to you, looked almost exactly like the part of my apartment where I took that picture of Sarah. Which reminded me...

"Did Jean Pierre want to hire Sarah?" I asked Darren.

"Probably," he shrugged, then started off for one of the sets. "Hey, check this out." Darren led me through a gap in the dark curtain. Behind it were dozens of open boxes full of lingerie. "You'll be shooting a lot of this stuff. It just came in from La Perla."

I laughed, remembering my shopping trip with Sarah, specifically the part where I fucked her in the changing room.

"What's so funny?" Darren frowned.

"Sorry," I smiled at him. "Just remembering a shopping trip there."

He shrugged and started sorting through some of the lingerie, hanging it up on racks nearby. "Give me a hand before you go?"

I nodded and moved to help him. Darren had only worked at Dangerous Angels for three years, but he told me everything he knew, and anything I might need to know to navigate the 'bitchy waters' of the models.

"Christine is probably the worst," he grumbled.

"Why's that?"

Darren sighed. "She's an absolute prima-fucking-donna. Thinks she owns the place. Even got one of my friends fired."

"Wow," I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't get me wrong though," he widened his eyes. "Chris is beautiful, one of the best models I've ever met, but damn, she can be a real bitch."

I snorted.

"So..." Darren began, a little nervous, I think. "You have a girlfriend?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

"So..." he said again, slowly this time, then asked, "Does that mean you're...you know."

I laughed lightly. "No. I have a boyfriend too."

"Oh. Okay, cool. Wait," he stopped hanging lingerie to look at me. "Do they know about each other?"

I nodded and handed him a negligee.

"Wow," he said softly. "So, the three of you..." he hesitated to finish.

I laughed again. "No. Not at the same time." I shrugged. "It's kind of new, my relationship with them."

Darren bombarded me with questions, intensely curious about the relationship dynamic between me, Sarah and Trevor. I told him how I'd known both of them for years, that Sarah was my best friend and I'd had a crush on Trevor for so long. Of course, there was an information gap when it came to what exactly precipitated the change between me and Sarah, but I couldn't very well tell Darren it was because a goddess blessed me with a giant girl-dong.

I learned that Darren was from Colorado. He moved to New York with his mother when he was eleven. She actually worked here up until two years ago, before she was stolen away by Armia.

I snickered. "I'll admit it. I applied for a job there."

Darren grinned. "Everyone in this profession applies for a job there, at least those of us on the east coast."

When the last box was unpacked, I stood with my hands on my hips and stretched my back.

"So, when can you start?" Darren asked, making his way over to a small metal desk with a laptop sitting on it.

"Am I reporting to you then?" I asked.

"No," he laughed. "I'm not a manager. More like a stage assistant. I help schedule the shoots, catalogue the inventory, and pamper the high-maintenance girls, like Christine."

"I guess I can start tomorrow," I shrugged, then added, "Oh, but I'm in college, full time student, so that takes priority."

He smiled up at me while pulling up what looked like a schedule on his laptop. "No problem. I kind of expected that, given your age. Okay, let's see here," he said, peering at the screen. "Rose was scheduled for a shoot tomorrow. Her usual photographer is out with the flu. Think you can fill in for him?"

"Sure. What will I be shooting?"

"The usual," he said, typing on his keyboard. "New lingerie."

"La Perla?" I asked, somewhat excited.

"You wish," Darren snorted and grinned at me. "Since you're new, you start with Bunny's Diary."

I scowled, then gave him a playful smile. Bunny's Diary catered more to the Playboy fan crowd, all of their products supposedly designed by a sex bunny living the high life on a beach somewhere in L.A. I always found La Perla to a more sophisticated kind of sexy, as opposed to trampy, but Bunny's was a start.

"You'll like Rose," Darren told me, adding me to the schedule. "She's a really sweet girl, but I have to warn you..."

I frowned. "Warn me about what?"

Darren grinned and looked me over while leaning back in his chair. "You're exactly her type."

"Oh," I blushed a little.

He chuckled and leaned forward again. "Okay, I've got you on schedule for tomorrow night at nine. We have a handful of girls like that, available only in the evenings, so if those work for you, we can start there."

"Sounds great."

Chapter 30

Darren walked me out to my car, and by the time I was on my way home, I was both nervous and eager about my first day, or night, I guess, of work tomorrow. When I walked into the apartment, Sarah and Violet were waiting, along with Paula, who I hadn't seen in over a week. Paula was the only one still wearing her day clothes, a cute little blue dress, whereas Violet and Sarah were both wearing barely-there shorts and shirts. But damn, was there something really cute about Paula's dress. Maybe it was the way it clung to her slender frame.

"Hey sweetie!" I greeted Paula with a hug. "Where have you been?"

Paula drew back and made room for Violet to hug me next. "The Zetas have been running me ragged."

Violet kissed my cheek and playfully gushed, "How was your day honey?"

I shook my head, chuckling, "Fine, goofball."

"Did you get the job, baby?" Sarah asked, wrapping me up in a warm embrace, her body seeming to mold perfectly with mine.

"Mmm-hm," was the only reply I could manage, basking in the warmth of her. I buried my face in her neck. Was it just me, or did she smell really good today?

Sarah grabbed my hands and jumped. "Are you serious? You got it?"

I smiled proudly and nodded.

"Oh my gawd!" she squealed, hugging me tightly again, then she kissed the shit out of me.

"Wow," I sighed when she leaned back to smile at me. "I need to get a job more often."

Sarah chuckled, a playful glint to her pretty eyes.

"Might just be a reward for you tonight," Violet said, and when I looked at her, she was running her fingertips down the ample cleavage of her low-cut tee shirt.

"Uh-uh," Sarah shook her head and pulled me against her side with an arm around my waist. "My turn tonight."

Paula looked at the three of us and waggled her finger. "So, I guess you guys are still..."

"Fucking like bunnies?" Violet finished for her, making Paula blush fiercely, and me too. "Every chance I can get, babe."

"Jeezus, Vi," Sarah shook her head, laughing on the way to the kitchen.

Violet ignored the comment and put her arm around Paula's shoulders. "I'm telling you, honey, you've never had sex until you've taken a ride on King Dong over there," she nodded at me.

"Violet!" Paula squealed, pulling away to follow Sarah.

I went to my bedroom to change clothes, and when I rejoined the others to help with dinner, Violet looked me over and grinned mischievously. "Oh, it's like that, huh?"

"What is?" I asked.

She gestured at me. "Teasing me with the outfit."

I shook my head, not following, then realized I was wearing the same threadbare tank top and blue panties as the day Violet blew me in my kitchen back home. I smiled at her and patted low on my stomach, just above my groin. "It would be teasing if something wasn't hiding."

"Hands off, Vi!" Sarah yelled from the dining room. "She's mine tonight!"

Violet and I laughed.

When the food was laid out on the table and everyone was fixing their plates, Violet looked at Paula across from me. "Seriously, Paula. What gives?"

Paula blinked. "What do you mean?"

Violet took a bite of her salad and gestured at Paula with her fork. "If I remember Amy's big reveal correctly, you actually reached for her before I did."

Paula looked at me and Sarah.

"Actually, you did," Sarah told her, passing the dressing to me. "Violet was just faster."

Paula blushed again, then gave me a strange look. At first, I thought it was a 'save me' look, but then I realized it was something else. Paula was struggling with something. I couldn't think of anything to say to help her.

"Sweetie?" Violet said, getting her attention, and Paula turned that helpless expression on her. "It's okay if you're interested, you know."

Paula's mouth worked, but no words came out. She looked at me again, then developed a sudden interest in her salad, averting her eyes from ours. I remembered her uncomfortable moment in the RV.

"Guys," I told Sarah and Violet. "Let it go, okay?"

"No, it's alright," Paula said, surprising me. She looked up, struggled with what to say. "I just...I am...interested, I mean."

"Nothing wrong with that, honey," Sarah quickly interjected.

"No, I know," she told her, then looked at me and said, "But...Amy's a girl."

"With a cock," Violet chuckled.

Sarah reached across the table to smack her hand.

"I know," Paula nodded, still looking at me. "That's what's so...confusing."

"What is?" I asked her.

She thought about her answer for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't dig girls." Violet raised an eyebrow at that, and Paula quickly added, "I mean, I do, sometimes." Violet grinned and winked at her. Paula looked at Sarah then. "What's it like for you?"

"Honestly?" Sarah said, then she smiled at me. "We've been friends for years. I've always thought Amy was deliciously cute." I returned the smile, blushing. Sarah regarded Paula and shrugged. "We just had fun, you know?"

Paula looked at Violet and gave her a little blushing smile too. "Yeah, I know. Violet taught me how to kiss." Her smile widened into a grin. "And she kind of taught me how to forcibly molest a girl."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at Violet, who shrugged. "I may have gotten a little carried away, caught up in the moment, you know."

"Caught up in the moment?" Paula replied incredulously, her face and neck flushing with warmth, then she whispered, "Violet, you used your mouth on my...you know."

Violet grinned like a cat. "And you loved it."

"I didn't..." Paula blushed, shaking her head, then her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay, so I did."

Violet and Sarah chuckled, getting a sheepish smile from Paula. I had to commend Violet for helping her friend come out of her shell. Even before Sarah gave me the statue that changed my life, she and I had fooled around. It started as experimentation, exploration, innocent stuff between friends. Pretty much the same had happened between Violet and Paula. The difference was that Paula wasn't entirely comfortable with her apparently dual-natured sexuality.

When we were finished with dinner and the table was cleared, Sarah and Violet took the dishes, and I helped Paula wipe down the table. The conversation over dinner had my interest peaked. Paula all but admitted she was interested in me, but the fact that I had a penis was getting in her way, confused her. She had no problem encouraging Violet when it came to me though. Hell, she'd practically cheered Violet on in the RV when she all but announced she was stealing me away to fuck me.

As I watched Paula wipe down the table, I couldn't help but admire the lean body beneath her dress, so tightly muscled. I remembered the feel of her against me that night at my house, when we were watching Grosse Point Blank, and I remembered how warm she was. Paula had kissed me that night, eager, hungry, almost desperately. She'd wanted to do it for a long time, I think. And holy crap, she was a good kisser.

Paula stretched across the table to wipe down the far side. The thin fabric of her dress stretched tightly over her body. Her ass was small and tight, perfectly sculpted, and while her breasts were modestly sized, like mine, they were so very firm. I could see the outline of her nipples through the fabric of her dress. I'd never seen her bare breasts before. Hell, I'd never seen her naked at all, but I wanted to now, I can tell you that.

"Paula?" I said quietly.

"Hmm?" she glanced at me, still stretched out, wiping down the table.

"That night at my house, during the movie," I began, letting her memory catch up. Her hand paused on the table and she looked at me for a moment, a hint of a smile forming on her pretty mouth. She nodded for me to continue. "When you kissed me..." I hesitated, wanting to say this right, and wanting to help her feel more confident about her sexuality. I glanced to the kitchen. Sarah and Violet were talking amongst themselves. I looked back to Paula and continued. "There was a lot going on, between the three of you, but...it was your kiss that undid me."