Camera Shy (Lessons in Love, #1)(34)

“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath. I find Avery’s headshot on her company’s website. It’s a flattering photo. I’m sure I could take a better one, but this is decent, except it’s in black and white. While it looks professional, I’m missing those seafoam green eyes.

“You think she’d cut you a deal for some help?”

“Isn’t that rude to ask?” My eyes are still fixed on her picture. It’s uncomfortable when friends ask for big favors. When people find out I’m a photographer, they want hours of free labor. I’m happy to oblige, but I’ve got bills to pay too.

“Doesn’t hurt to see if you guys could exchange services. Offer her a free boudoir shoot. I can do her hair and makeup. All together that’s worth about a sixth of her fee.” Lennox laughs in short huffs. “Sixteen grand for one job? Damn, your friend is a baller.”

That she is.

I would’ve never expected Avery to be a boss lady. She’s so down to earth and humble. It’s refreshing. There’s nothing that screams six figures about her raggedy T-shirts and faded pajama bottoms. I like that. I like her witty sass. I like how chill she is. I like—

Oh, hell.

I think I really like her.

Fuck.





10


Avery





“Aves, I’m so sorry. I’m still stuck out here with your car,” Palmer whines into the phone. “I didn’t expect to actually get the part.”

I roll my eyes. “Palmer,” I groan.

“What?”

Popping in my right AirPod, I swap our call from audio to FaceTime. I wait until her face is on the screen. “Um, my best friend just landed her big break. I don’t care about my car. I’m not doing anything out here, and I can have anything I need delivered.” Including the four different swimsuits from Target I ordered for rapid delivery this morning. I realize Finn has already seen most of me naked, but I’m still determined to find the most flattering suit Target has available in store. I needed options.

“I’m not even sure if the pilot will get picked up…” she says with a defeated half-smile. Geez, the entertainment industry is kicking her ass.

I prop the phone up against the pitcher of orange juice I have in the middle of the dining table. Holding up one finger, I ask, “Can we just dream big for a moment? Manifest.”

She blows out a breath. “Fine.”

“You’re the star of this pilot—”

“One of the stars. It’s an ensemble cast—”

“Palmer, work with me, here.”

“Fine. I’m the star of this pilot.”

“Good. And what happens when the pilot gets picked up?”

She slumps her shoulders and her slinky tank top falls off her shoulder. I can see her nipples clear as day through her thin top. Palmer has the kind of small, perky breasts that don’t need to be contained at all times with sturdy bras with underwire. “I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do. It’s okay.” I give her a reassuring nod.

“Okay, my career picks up.”

“And?” I tuck my knee to my chest and rest my chin on top of it, giving her a lunatic smile.

“I get a steady paycheck.”

I nod enthusiastically. “And?”

“And I can pay back my debt, get a better agent, get more jobs, maybe a movie deal, maybe walk the red carpet one day.”

“There you go!” I clap my hands together. “Honey, you can do this. You are beautiful and talented. I want this for you as much as you do. This will happen. This pilot will get picked up. You’re going to do big things, best friend.”

Palmer immediately tears up. She’s been crying nonstop lately. You would’ve thought she was the one who was dumped. Every time we’ve talked in the past week since she drove off to Albuquerque, she’s been an emotional wreck. She’s just probably in her actor mindset. She’s playing a single mother, living on the streets, who is trying her best to kick a heroin habit. If that’s not emotionally taxing and dramatic, I don’t know what it is. She’s embracing her role. Palmer is a truly phenomenal actress. If success in the industry was based on talent alone, she’d be famous. Unfortunately, the reality is that luck’s been a bitch to her. Her entire career is filled with near misses and almost opportunities.

“You’re a better friend than me,” she says in a hushed whisper. “A much better friend.”

“Palmer,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “It’s just a car. It’s fine—but hey, I have to go. It’s Mason on the other line.” As much as I’d like to ignore that asshole’s call, we need to chat business today.

Palmer’s face twists. “Fuck Mason,” she says.

“Yep, well, someone is, that’s for sure. Okay, honey, bye. Talk soon.” I reluctantly press end call and answer on my screen. “Mason,” I say, my tone dropping to the icy depths.

“Hey, Avery. Can I start with—”

“No, you may not. I looked over the Legacy Resorts reports and I have a few ideas for a proposal, but I need to understand what kind of organic leads are coming to their site. Have they shared that with you yet?”

“Not quite.”