Handsome and Greta (Seven Ways to Sin 3)
On top of that, Philip and Andy were at each other—I’d call it a lovers’ spat except they’d never been lovers, not that I knew, at least. The feud was causing division in the team, Michael and Delvin sided with Philip while Alex and Kurt sided with Andy.
“Running a modeling agency,” said Hans to me in private, “at times, it has more in common with running a daycare than anything else.”
“Everyone’s just exhausted,” I said. “Me included.”
“I bet,” he said sarcastically.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.
“What with your late-night walks.” He walked away before I could respond.
I didn’t go after him. There was enough squabbling among us already.
Despite the bickering and petty quarrels, we managed to get all the shots we needed on the slopes and still have a few hours before sunset.
“Let’s stop off at that restaurant we passed earlier,” said Michael. “I’m famished.”
Hans looked at his watch. “We’re cutting it close. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I agree with Michael,” said Alex. “We’ll make it quick. But we’re all hungry, and you know we’ll work better once we’ve got some food in us.”
“You agree with Michael?” said Hans. “That’s a minor miracle.”
“Me too,” said Kurt.
“Me three,” said Philip.
“OK,” said Hans. “It’s decided. We’ll stop off at the restaurant on the way back to the lookout. But we’ve got an hour, at most.”
“Thanks, boss,” Michael said.
“Since we’re all in agreement,” Hans said, “does that mean we’re done fighting?”
“That depends,” Philip said. “Is Andy ready to apologize?”
“Forget I asked,” Hans said.
Once we’d arrived at the restaurant, the feud among the models seemed to have been forgotten, though Hans was still giving me the cold shoulder.
“They’ve got internet here,” said Hans. “You’ll excuse me. I’m going to have a coffee at the bar and upload the photos we took today, keep the client in the loop.”
“We’ll order for you,” said Andy. “What’ll you have?”
Hans shook his head. “Nothing for me, thanks. I’ll eat back at the lodge.”
I, too, didn’t take a seat with the group. “And I’m going to make a phone call.”
“You want us to order for you?” asked Andy.
I shook my head. “No thanks.” And not without a good dose of chagrin, I added, “I’ll be eating at the lodge, too.”
I contemplated joining Hans but decided it’d be best to try and talk to him after the work was done for the day. Instead, I went outside and called up Bonita.
“Greta! How’s Perth treating you?”
“Actually, it’s treating me well. Very well, in fact.”
“Off in the mountains with a half dozen male models, I’m not surprised.”
I looked over my shoulder. The parking lot was empty. No one was around to hear me. “Well, you might be surprised to hear that I’ve been doing a bit of extra-curricular activity.”
“Tell me everything.”
I did tell her everything, and eagerly so. I told her about the deep web, about the masks, about the chains, about Jake’s sculpted body and his attentive touch. “I’m crazy, aren’t I?”
“What? Crazy to have waited this long to go wild?” she said. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I made the same mistake, too. Better late than never. I’m just glad to hear you’ve come to your senses and decided to live it up for a change.”
I chuckled. “Only you would put it that way, Bonita.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “And thanks for sharing. I want you to call back in a couple of days. And I want more details. You’re off to a good start. I can’t wait to hear where it goes.”
“Don’t expect much more,” I said. “I think I’ve reached my adventure limit. But I’m happy.”
“Adventure limit? What’s that? Never heard of it.”
“It’s something normal people have,” I said.
“Sounds dreadful. I’m glad I’m not normal.”
“I’m glad you’re not too, Bonita. I’m glad you’re not too.”
The view from the lookout was even more spectacular at sundown. And it was easier to take it in now that we’d put a long hard day’s work behind us.
Hans joined me and we took in the view in silence.
After a while, I said to him, “It’s beautiful. You have to admit at least that.”
He didn’t answer but, instead, continued gazing out at the view seemingly lost in thought.
I backed away quietly, took the cap off the camera lens and stole a few shots—Hans standing at the edge of a cliff, looking pensive, with the sun setting in the background.
I took a few more shots of the crew packing up the equipment and loading it onto the bus. It was either take ‘artistic’ shots of the boys or put the camera away and help them out. As much as I enjoyed hauling cumbersome gear, the artist in me won out.
“Hey, Greta,” Hans called from the lookout.
I turned to see him, his back to us, still gazing down at Perth below.