When we arrive at the studio, I'm exhausted. I stumble out of the car and follow Cole inside. The other two people staying here are already asleep. Before Cole leaves me to find my room, he says, "That shoot will be first thing tomorrow. If you have body jewelry, wear it." He doesn't look at me as he speaks. Instead, he walks over to the front desk and picks up a pile of mail, and sifts through it. My heart hammers. I nod and silently walk off to my room with my heart in my throat.
Sleep finally comes, but my dreams make me restless. I dream about Cole as a young man. I see the haunted expression in his eyes - the fact that he knows there is no such thing as forgiveness. He learned that lesson too well. There is no way he will ever forget.
The dream fades to Edward. His eyes are a void of black. Bleeding twin trails of ink spill down his pale cheeks. He says, "You destroyed me." He reaches for my throat, his fingers moving toward my eye with a black nail in his fist. I know that will make my eyes bleed black like his, that my heart will never heal. I know I'm dreaming, but I scream anyway.
I wake, frightened, and trembling. The sun is barely over the horizon. I swing my legs over the side of my bed and rub my eyes. I breathe deeply trying to push away the nightmare.
There's a knock on my door. "Come in," I say. When I look up, Cole is standing in the doorway. I'm wearing cotton shorts and a thin cami. They're dorm pajamas, which means they're guy safe. At least that's what Emma and I used to say.
Stubble lines his cheeks. A white tee shirt clings to his torso. Dark jeans hug his narrow hips, and he's barefoot. Cole seems to have something against shoes. His eyes are red like he hasn't slept. "You all right? I heard you scream."
"Yeah. Fine." I don't elaborate. I look up at him and push the rat's nest that is my hair out of my face. "What time are we shooting? Tell me it's not in fifteen minutes." I'm only half joking. Cole's a morning person. Apparently that's still true even though he's only had a few hours of sleep.
He smiles, "No, not in fifteen." He looks at his watch and back up at me. "Why don't we try for nine? You can get a few more hours rest."
I laugh and push off the bed, shaking my head. "It'll take me that long to get ready. And I have to tell you that I didn't bring anything with me that might be even a little suitable for this shoot. Do you have props or something I could look at?"
"No nudes, Miss Lamore?" he asks leaning against the door frame, and folds his arms over his chest. A dark brow rises on his face. His eyes lock on mine.
My stomach flutters. A soft smile lines my lips and I shake my head, "I thought I should see what my options are. I hear lace photographs well," I tease, knowing it will annoy him. Anything about wedding photography seems to get under his skin.
"Damn wedding photographers and their lace," he laughs softly. The sound is stunning. I wish he were like this all the time, but it's the Cole that vanishes like smoke. I think that's the real Cole, the one he hides from everyone at all cost. He pushes off the door frame, and shakes his head, "Come on. I'll show you where the wardrobe is located. Use whatever you want. They literally finished the sets last night and installed the lights. We'll christen the new studio and then get back to work."
An hour later Cole is gone and I'm still looking through boxes. I find some jeweled dangling earrings that I can use. They have a hook, but I grab some wire and wire cutters. I plan on modifying their intended use, slightly, if I have to. Other than that, I don't see anything else.
Regina walks in and flips on the lights, "Hey boss. Can I help you find something?"
Quickly, I decide to tell her what we're doing. It makes it seem less risque, even though telling her about the shoot makes me blush.
Regina is very professional. She doesn't react. Instead she helps. She digs through a few boxes, showing me more necklaces and outfits from Le Femme.
She hands me a panty and I press the thin lace between my fingers, "This is beautiful, but I wanted something different."
"How different?" she asks.
I shrug at her and put the panties back. I laugh nervously and look at her. "I have no idea what I'm looking for. Or what I want. I just need it to be sultry, cover me a little bit, and be something that screams, Anna." I shake my head. "None of this stuff seems to do all that."
Regina nods, listening. Grinning at me, she says, "I have something." She looks over her shoulder like she's doing something that she shouldn't and reaches for a box on the top shelf. I look inside when she pulls it down. It's filled with tiny crystals. Many are clear, like tiny diamonds, but some are vibrant colors. She pulls a paper from the plastic sleeve on the top of the box. "I got these thinking we could use them - to do this."
"What is it?" I ask and unfold the paper. My cheeks flush when I see it, but I can't look away. My jaw drops.
"Vajazzling. At least that's what the article calls it." She shrugs. "I guess you can do anything from pouring the crystals over your body, to applying them in a pattern." She points at the paper to a woman bared from the waist down. The patch of hair between her legs is gone and in its place there is an intricate design of a butterfly. The sparkles disappear between her legs. "That one is really pretty," she says pointing to the butterfly. "Of course, that only works if you already have a Brazilian."
I scan the paper, reading it. A smile creeps slowly across my face. As a matter of fact, I do. "This is perfect. Thanks Regina."