Hailey
I'm frozen in place, my camera hanging limp in my hands as Josh stands before me, shirtless and somehow part of my photoshoot. My career-defining, absolutely cannot go wrong photoshoot.
"You know our model?" Marcus calls down from his glass perch, his voice carrying that dangerous edge I've already learned to fear.
"I—" My voice catches. Every eye in the studio is on me. "We're acquaintances," I manage, shooting Josh a look that I hope communicates both 'what are you doing here?' and 'please don't ruin this for me' simultaneously.
Josh smiles that infuriating, charming smile. "We're old friends."
Old friends? We've met exactly three times.
Marcus descends the stairs with deliberate slowness, each step echoing through the now-silent studio. He approaches, eyes moving between Josh and me like he's solving a particularly fascinating puzzle.
"Interesting," he says finally. "And does this… friendship… affect your ability to direct him professionally, Ms. Jameson?"
