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Book: HOT SET: Playing with Fidelity (A romantic suspense novel) by Kerry Northe
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Authors: Kerry Northe
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dare you not come home straight after school? You’ve been sleeping’ around, haven’t you? HAVEN’T YOU!”
Amelia just ducked her head and went straight to her room, the book Sam threw in anger at her silence just missing her head .
“ Come back here, bitch!” he screamed and threw a glass which shattered against the wall of the hallway.
Amelia locked her door and crumpled on the floor, her bag spilling a little onto the stained carpet. Peter’s glossy card glittered.
It’ll change your life, he’d said . It’ll change your life.
The next day at school, she did an internet search on him and found a modern, well-maintained website with several famous faces pictured . Reviewers were positive and he’d shown his photos several times in galleries. Walking to the payphone just outside of school, she called him. He’d been so excited to hear from her and invited her into his studio that day. She broke a perfect attendance record by skipping her last two classes and caught a bus the 20 blocks to his studio.
The building was nothing more than a concrete double-story industrial site with small square windows and a dark grey door. Intimidated and scared, she pressed on the lever to open the door and walked up the concrete stairs, following the signs to ‘Peter Denner – Photographer’. The large room had no walls or partitions, just a few desks, lockable cupboards, several different backdrops and a plethora of lights, umbrellas, props and other photographic paraphernalia spilling freely from large plastic boxes. A buzzer sounded as she passed through the doorway and Peter looked up from his camera and yelled, “whoo-hoo! Everyone, everyone. This is Amelia. I discovered her yesterday at the library of all places.”
A few people in the room called out hello, the two models posed on a grey backdrop glowered and Amelia nearly backed down the stairs at the sudden attention . This was a huge mistake. This guy is on something illegal , she thought.
Peter rushed across the room and took her hand, leading her to a desk with a young, plain woman in her early 20s that was dressed in a 1950s pinafore dress, black hair severely pulled back and red Dame Edna glasses.
“ This is Fiona, my personal assistant. She’ll help you get ready.”
“ Hi, Amelia. Nice to meet you. Let’s get started.”
She presented Amelia with some paperwork and explained what would happen, that Peter would own the images, etc . Amelia signed the documents.
“ As a minor, we’ll need your guardian’s signature, too.”
“ Okay, I’ll get my mum to sign it when I get home and I’ll post it back.” Amelia would later forge her mother’s signature.
“ No problems.”
The next three hours blurred into a murky swamp of make-up, hair styling, clothes, flashes, instructions, poses, props and yelling. She had little idea what was going on and was overwhelmed, nervous and very uneasy with the attention.
“ Okay, Amelia. Do you want to see some of the photos?”
“ Okay.”
“ Come over here.”
‘Over here’ was a projector pointed at a white screen, linked to a laptop. Peter slotted in a memory card, something which Amelia had never seen before, pushed some buttons and suddenly there she was…
She was awkwardly staring to the left of the photographer but Peter had captured that discomfort and transformed it into an emotion. Her smooth skin looked luminescent, her eyes a transcendent aqua and her long limbs were crunched uncomfortably into a pose a supermodel would professionally demonstrate.
He went through s everal photos before stopping at one shot of her, sitting on a low chair in front of a mottled brown background. She was wearing black, skinny jeans, a fitted black singlet top and black closed-toe stilettos. Her knees were pressed together, feet turned in on her toes, hands clutched in her lap and her blonde fringe and hair straight. She was staring straight down the lens, her face neutral but her eyes full of the sad
Amelia just ducked her head and went straight to her room, the book Sam threw in anger at her silence just missing her head .
“ Come back here, bitch!” he screamed and threw a glass which shattered against the wall of the hallway.
Amelia locked her door and crumpled on the floor, her bag spilling a little onto the stained carpet. Peter’s glossy card glittered.
It’ll change your life, he’d said . It’ll change your life.
The next day at school, she did an internet search on him and found a modern, well-maintained website with several famous faces pictured . Reviewers were positive and he’d shown his photos several times in galleries. Walking to the payphone just outside of school, she called him. He’d been so excited to hear from her and invited her into his studio that day. She broke a perfect attendance record by skipping her last two classes and caught a bus the 20 blocks to his studio.
The building was nothing more than a concrete double-story industrial site with small square windows and a dark grey door. Intimidated and scared, she pressed on the lever to open the door and walked up the concrete stairs, following the signs to ‘Peter Denner – Photographer’. The large room had no walls or partitions, just a few desks, lockable cupboards, several different backdrops and a plethora of lights, umbrellas, props and other photographic paraphernalia spilling freely from large plastic boxes. A buzzer sounded as she passed through the doorway and Peter looked up from his camera and yelled, “whoo-hoo! Everyone, everyone. This is Amelia. I discovered her yesterday at the library of all places.”
A few people in the room called out hello, the two models posed on a grey backdrop glowered and Amelia nearly backed down the stairs at the sudden attention . This was a huge mistake. This guy is on something illegal , she thought.
Peter rushed across the room and took her hand, leading her to a desk with a young, plain woman in her early 20s that was dressed in a 1950s pinafore dress, black hair severely pulled back and red Dame Edna glasses.
“ This is Fiona, my personal assistant. She’ll help you get ready.”
“ Hi, Amelia. Nice to meet you. Let’s get started.”
She presented Amelia with some paperwork and explained what would happen, that Peter would own the images, etc . Amelia signed the documents.
“ As a minor, we’ll need your guardian’s signature, too.”
“ Okay, I’ll get my mum to sign it when I get home and I’ll post it back.” Amelia would later forge her mother’s signature.
“ No problems.”
The next three hours blurred into a murky swamp of make-up, hair styling, clothes, flashes, instructions, poses, props and yelling. She had little idea what was going on and was overwhelmed, nervous and very uneasy with the attention.
“ Okay, Amelia. Do you want to see some of the photos?”
“ Okay.”
“ Come over here.”
‘Over here’ was a projector pointed at a white screen, linked to a laptop. Peter slotted in a memory card, something which Amelia had never seen before, pushed some buttons and suddenly there she was…
She was awkwardly staring to the left of the photographer but Peter had captured that discomfort and transformed it into an emotion. Her smooth skin looked luminescent, her eyes a transcendent aqua and her long limbs were crunched uncomfortably into a pose a supermodel would professionally demonstrate.
He went through s everal photos before stopping at one shot of her, sitting on a low chair in front of a mottled brown background. She was wearing black, skinny jeans, a fitted black singlet top and black closed-toe stilettos. Her knees were pressed together, feet turned in on her toes, hands clutched in her lap and her blonde fringe and hair straight. She was staring straight down the lens, her face neutral but her eyes full of the sad
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