Raw and Curvy by S.E. Law

9

Mimi

Modeling isn’t something I considered when I was trying to figure out a new career path, but when Mason mentioned he had a new ad campaign in the works for his energy drink, G-Raw, I jumped at the opportunity. Fortunately, my boyfriend thought I’d be perfect for the campaign as a model, and as a result, here I am, getting ready for a photo shoot.

It’s crazy because it’s been a week since I discovered my pregnancy, and I still haven’t worked up the nerve to tell Mason. Yet I’m about to do a photo shoot in a bikini with my gently pooching tummy out for all to see. Fortunately, Mason loves it.

“I’m going to love having you as our new G-Raw model,” Mason growls as we walk to meet the photographer at the studio for the shoot.

“Why is that?” I smile.

He smirks. “Because it means I get to spend time with you during the day and I can still say I’m working.”

I laugh, and he pulls me into his side, with his arm around my hip while kissing my temple. Looking up, I smile shyly again.

“Well then, I’m happy I get to be your co-worker. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with the boss for doing anything on company time that isn’t truly work related.”

He grins.

“Luckily, my boss understands I’m a very fortunate man, and sometimes I just need to take some time to make my girl scream my name.”

My whole body flushes and I shiver beneath his arm. “You are insatiable, mister.”

He kisses me again. “Only for you, baby.”

A man and woman greet us as soon as we enter the studio, and Mason introduces them. “Mimi, this is our photographer, Carlton, and the creative director of this shoot, Cassandra.”

Carlton is well dressed with blonde hair and kind green eyes, not to mention a camera draped around his neck. He smiles at me, and I immediately feel at ease. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Richardson,” he says, shaking my hand.

“You too, and please call me Mimi.”

“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Cassandra interrupts. She’s exactly what I’d expect from a creative director. Her hair is a dark brown, styled in a severe topknot, and she’s almost as tall as Mason. Her makeup is quite dramatic with dark eyeshadow and crimson lips, but maybe she’s going for a certain look. It isn’t that it looks bad, but I suspect if I saw Cassandra without a full face of cosmetics, I’d be stunned at the difference.

“It’s good to meet you,” I say warmly.

“Make sure you two take good care of her,” Mason tells Carlton and Cassandra. “I’ve got some business to attend to, so Miss Richardson will be here all alone.”

“We will,” Carlton says. “Got it, boss.”

Cassandra nods curtly. “Of course, Mr. Carlisle. Your girlfriend is in good hands.”

Mason turns to me and pulls me close. “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

I smile. “No, you have work to do. Besides, I’m going to be busy too, so I wouldn’t be able to give you the attention you deserve.”

He chuckles and then gives me a chaste kiss. “Well, if you need anything just call.”

“I will, but I’m sure everything will be fine.”

With one last wave, Mason departs and the photographer motions for me to follow him.

“I’ll take you to the changing area and show you what you’ll be wearing for the shoot.”

“Sure, can’t wait,” I enthuse.

Carlton leads me to a room in the back of the studio. There’s a bright red bikini hanging on a rack in the corner of the room that isn’t much more than strings with three tiny triangles, and I gasp. Really?

My face must be giving away my thoughts because Carlton says, “Mr. Carlisle chose the wardrobe for this ad shoot, so I think he has a very specific image of you in mind.” Then, he bends down by the rack where the bikini was hanging and picks up a box, opening it to reveal a pair of matching red heels. “He said you wear a size seven shoe?”

I stammer, my cheeks going red. “Yes, that’s right.”

Carlton smiles sunnily.

“Great, then the outfit’s ready. Normally, we’d have someone come do your makeup for the shoot as well, but Mr. Carlisle assured us you didn’t need that.”

I grin, and I can feel myself blushing even more. “Yes, he likes me with the natural look.”

Carl nods, but his smile looks just a wee bit forced. “Okay. Well, I’ll leave you to get dressed. Just come out when you’re ready and we’ll get started.”

Once he’s gone, I take a minute to wrap my mind around wearing this itty-bitty bikini. OMG, is Mason serious? Then again, I suppose G-Raw is a sexy energy drink, so it needs a sexy model.

Not wanting to hold the process up, I suck up my nerves and get changed into the scandalous bikini. Then I put the heels down on the floor and step into them. Once I have everything on, I approach the floor-length mirror next to the vanity and adjust the bits of fabric, making sure everything important is covered.

OMG, the woman looking back at me is insanely sexy. My curves are lush and full, and the triangles of the bikini top barely cover my nipples. The patch of cloth between my legs isn’t much better. It’s just a thin strip of fabric that outlines my nether lips before disappearing into the crack of my ass. Goodness, is this what Mason really wants?

But my boyfriend knows what I look like, so if this is what he picked out for me, then so be it. I put on a smile and wobble out to get to work on this shoot. Carlton and Cassandra are huddled together behind the cameras, and I see they’ve set up some faux palm trees and even a hammock as props. As soon as he sees me, Carlton’s eyes dance and he smiles wide.

“Mr. Carlisle was right. You look fantastic, Miss Richardson, and these photos are practically going to take themselves.”

I feel myself blushing, and smile happily. Cassandra smiles back too, but she’s stiff and has a snooty vibe about her that I do my best to ignore.

“Ah, yes,” she says in a smooth tone. “You look very styled, Miss Richardson.”

It isn’t exactly a compliment, but I just nod, determined to move forward. For the next hour, Carlton puts me in every pose possible and then some. At first, I feel awkward when he moves my arms and tells me to push my shoulders back so he can get a better shot with my breasts in all their lush glory. But Carlton is very professional, and soon I’m enjoying myself and even trying out a few poses of my own, which Carlton captures with his camera. Then he motions for me to sit on a large box, and I giggle.

“Like this?” I ask, spreading my legs while leaning forward. I know the camera must have a perfect view of my Double Ds, not to mention the shadowy vee between my thighs, and I position a can of G-Raw so that the viewer’s eyes are led to my sweetest spot. Maybe it’s too sexy, but Carlton merely holds up his camera and clicks away like a madman. After two or three hours, the photographer finally stops, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I think we got everything we need,” Carlton says.

“Yes, that will be all,” Cassandra praises sibilantly. “Great work, Miss Richardson.”

I smile.

“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll go get changed out of this then.”

I head back to the dressing area and make quick work of the bikini before tossing on my street clothes. The shoot was surprisingly fun, but now, I’m ready to get out of here so that I can return to my painting. Of course, I’ll tell Mason how well everything went, but I don’t see myself as a bikini model in the future. It’s just too revealing, even though I’ve learned to love my curves.

Tossing my bag over a shoulder, I make my way to the door and crack it open, but then there are hushed voices. I don’t think I’m supposed to hear, but sound travels in this white box they call a studio.

“I don’t know what he was thinking. She’s huge for Christ’s sake, and not in a good way! Does he think these are actually going to sell? We can’t use these pictures. There isn’t enough photoshop in the world to make her look good in that bikini. Just trash it all,” Cassandra says with disgust.

I don’t hear Carlton’s words, but I’m not about to stay around here and listen for more. I take a deep breath and push my shoulders back, while schooling my expression into one of nonchalance. No way will these freaks see me upset or crying. Then, I stride out of the room and out of the studio without a word or even a glance in their direction, holding my head high until I’m on the sidewalk.

Running quickly, I dart around the corner and lose my grasp on my false bravado. Tears start streaming down my face and I let out a muffled sob of agony. All of the confidence I felt while I was being photographed is crushed, and now, I just feel like this is a repeat of the scenario at the Wilshire. I’m being fat-shamed again, and why? Because I’m a bigger girl with a curvaceous figure.

I break down into sobs, uncaring of passerby who stare at me. I have to get out of here. I can’t face Mason, knowing that the photo shoot was a bust, so I decide to head home. Not to the Manhattan penthouse he owns, but rather my real home: the studio apartment in Atlantic City that Mason’s been paying the rent on for the past three months. Oh god, what’s to become of me?

Luckily, cabs are a dime a dozen, so I suck up my tears and jump into a yellow vehicle. I see the truth now: this photo shoot was a joke, and my boyfriend picked out the tiny bikini so that he’d have dirty pictures of me. Not because he wants to sell G-Raw to his customers, but because I’m his personal pet whom he can command as he sees fit.

But I can’t take it anymore because I’m not his pet, nor his servant; I’m the mother of his child, and it’s time to assess what our relationship really means. With a trembling voice, I tell the cabbie my address, and then look out the window as the car pulls away from the curb. Although my life in Manhattan was grand, as of this moment, I don’t plan to ever come back.