The outfit was not what I was expecting. In fact, I almost laugh when I take it out of the garment bag. It's a pair of well-worn jeans and a dark red t-shirt. Both of which look like they came from the men's department so they are monumentally too big for me, but I do what I was told, pull on the jeans, and slip the shirt over my head. There's no bra or panties in the bag, so I'm commando on both ends.

When I study myself in the mirror I can only sigh. Why did Elise get me all made up just to wear some old, half-ripped jeans and a cruddy t-shirt?

I walk out barefoot, because there were no shoes in the bag either.

At first I figured finding Roger could not be that hard, but there are no blond guys with cameras, so I just stand there until one of the girls comes out of the dressing room and I grab her attention real quick. "Roger?" I ask, as if that explains everything. She points to a guy who is sitting on a table on the far side of the studio. I turn to say thank you, but the girl is gone.

I take a deep breath and walk over towards Roger. He spies me coming from a distance and walks to meet me.

Well, that was nice.

"Ruth?"

"Ah, no. I'm Rook."

"Rook, right. That's what I meant. OK, Antoine just wants the standard portrait shots and then if we have time, I'll take some artistic ones of you and Billy since he has the other half of this outfit on."

He points to a shaggy-haired guy across the room who is also wearing an old pair of weathered jeans and a red t-shirt. Only his are much smaller than mine. "Maybe they got the clothes mixed up?" I say out loud before I can stop myself.

Roger laughs. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, his clothes look awfully tight and mine are awfully loose. It makes no sense."

He eyes me cautiously. "You're really new, aren't you?"

"First day," I reply as the nervousness appears in my stomach as a billion butterflies. "Why? Is there some secret about the clothing sizes that I should know about?"

He shrugs. "Ready then? Go stand over there and then we'll adjust the lights." I do as I'm told and stand on a little x taped to the floor. He's got four helpers just for us and they bustle around with lighting things and the background image, which is just black.

And that's pretty much where my thoughts stop. The rest is just turning and looking, and changing position, and closing my eyes, then opening them. I do a whole lot of things—standing, sitting, kneeling.

But the one thing I never get asked to do is smile.

Again.

This is weird to the point of almost being creepy because the last time I was here Antoine never asked me to smile either.

"OK, Rook, go grab Billy over there and we'll set up for the artistic shots."

I nod out a yes, but this makes me jitter with nervousness. I walk slowly over towards the Billy guy. His shoot is over and he's just hanging out with a girl.

A girl who looks pretty pissed off that I just walked up to them and interrupted.

"Uh, sorry. Excuse me, Billy? Roger asked me to come get you."

The girl sneers at me then kisses Billy, drags her fingernail down his chest, and whispers, "Call me later," as she saunters off. I watch her for several seconds before turning back.

Billy is watching me.

I smile.

He sighs and walks over towards Roger.

Shit, these people are not as friendly as I'd hoped. Even Elise was kinda short and testy with me today. I look up at a giant clock on the wall and wonder when the day will end. It's already almost six o'clock and I'm very hungry. I munched on my take-home breakfast from Cookie's the other day, but that was right after I came home from Ronin's and I didn't have any lunch. Maybe this is why models are so skinny—there's no food around!

I reach Roger a few seconds after Billy and they are already positioning him on a bed that has somehow materialized. My heart beats a little faster and my eyes dart around to try and figure out what we're doing.

"Relax, Rook. There's a reason for the loose clothing, it's so that when Billy here gropes you the clothes show some skin. So go ahead and sit down next to him and we'll get this started."

Gropes me? I'm thinking I'm saying that out loud, but I'm not. So no one explains, but Billy does get up and take my hand and leads me over to the bed.

"First time?" he asks casually as we stand there.

"What?"

"For an artistic shoot? I haven't seen you around before and you look pretty nervous."

"I am," I confess. "I've never done this before."

He slips his hand up my shirt and all I hear is the rapid clicking of a camera shutter. I look around and the shoot has started.

"Don't worry, it'll be quick." He tugs on my shirt, exposing my belly, then pulls it up and leans in to kiss me. I don't know what I'm thinking but I let him. This is work, right? This is what they do? Kiss each other?

I have no idea, but his hands are all over me, his mouth is traveling down my neck fast, and I'm starting to shake.

"Easy," he whispers. "He won't shoot long. Just listen to me, OK?"

I nod.

"Just let me do my thing, pretend you're in love with me and my hands are a gift from God, and he'll get his shots and we can go eat or something."

Is he asking me out? I am so confused but I do what I'm told. It's not that hard, Billy is doing all the work, really. His hands do the groping, pulling the red shirt this way and that, exposing my skin, my belly here, parts of my breast there. It's OK. This is work.