Perfection is a gimmick.
It’s something they use to sell you shit you don’t need. The perfect home. The perfect family. The perfect marriage. Photos of that perfect life are all around us, but none of it exists.
I know better because I take those photos. It’s all a ruse to make us think that's what we want. Behind closed doors, the house is a mess, the family is fighting, and that loving couple hates each other. I prefer a different city every week, laughing friends, and a variety of lovers.
Until Carl. I’m not sure what I want when he’s around.
Perfection is an illusion.
It’s something used to make you forget all the bad shit that happens in this world. It’s an unattainable dream not worth the effort.
I had the perfect home. The perfect family. The perfect marriage. Or so I thought. That illusion died with my wife and slammed me into reality. Aside from my daughter, business deals and making money is where my heart is now.
Until Rachael. I’m not sure what I feel when she’s around.
smoothed out my jacket and slacks. I also took a moment to make sure the girls
were still at optimum cleavage. Jimmy scoffed. “He’s married.”
I was smoothing down the last of the wrinkles in my jacket when I heard his
deep voice. I froze.
shut and heard him approach. I closed my eyes.
brother had fought for the same woman. Carl lost. He never stood a chance with
his intimidating and aggressive tactics. He even used his daughter as a pawn to
get Drew to go out with him.
thing I needed to know was he was hot and I was in need of a hot man. At that
time, being hot and single were my only dating requirements and I wanted to
date Carl. It didn’t stop me from seeing him when I found out. A choice I later
excited to get started. This is the photographer you requested.”
It only took him a second to register what was happening and his eyes widened
in surprise. “I’m not working with this asshole.” I started for the door.
stronger than I had anticipated. “What’s wrong with you?” He tried to speak
softly, but Carl heard him.
I didn’t need to see the man standing off to the side to know his shoulders
were broad. I didn’t need to see the jet-black hair to remind me I wanted to
run my fingers through it. I already knew he was the perfect height to offset
perfectly, and was pressed as though he had just stepped off the pages of a
magazine. And I didn’t need to see the look on his face to know his strong,
squared jaw was set—hard. No, I didn’t need to see him again to remind me of
all of that.
my eye, saw Carl take a step forward when Jimmy tried to grab me again. I
placed my hand up to stop him. “Don’t.”
minutes. I’m not sure what exactly went on between the two of you, but I’m only
asking for five minutes.” I hesitated and Jimmy whispered, “Just think of the
work with him?”
forget it.” I turned and walked away. “I’m not working with an asshole.”
but I didn’t turn around. “We can communicate through email. I’ll send you the
list of prospects and you send me the photos, but you will answer directly to
silence him with the wave of his hand. “What aren’t you telling me?”
to his desk, shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two,
and I don’t want to know.”
“What were you whispering?”
as he spoke. I watched Jimmy to see if Carl was being honest. “I didn’t know
you were their best photographer. The test is no longer needed.”
“You don’t trust anyone, so I’ll take your lousy test. What is it? Stand on my
head and get an impossible shot?”
married. His wife had died over a year ago. I looked at the wedding ring on his
finger. Carl noticed and put his hand in his pocket as I lifted my eyes to his.
I stood there silent, just staring. I didn’t deserve an explanation, but one
would’ve been nice.
it. “He wanted family photos taken.”
Jimmy, but it was too late. He didn’t want me to take his family photos.
I couldn’t believe it. He was still hiding me as
some mistress. I’m no one’s whore. I didn’t say a word. I just walked out.
Jimmy was calling after me, but I ignored him and kept walking. I wasn’t going
to stick around where I wasn’t wanted. Problem was I didn’t know where I was
B.L. Mooney started writing when the voices and storylines in her head ran out of room. They were getting too cramped and neither B.L. nor the characters could take it anymore, so she did the only thing she could do—she made room. She always knew she wanted to write, but vowed to make time for it later. Now that she’s made time for writing, most everything else falls to the wayside. That seems to suit the characters that keep popping up in her head just fine.
B.L. lives in the Midwest, and her other talents include in-demand cookies, a very dry sense of humor, and stealth eavesdropping. Some mannerisms, attitudes, or twists come from random sentences picked up while passing by strangers. So speak up the next time you have something to gossip about. You never know, it may just end up on the pages of the next book you read.
She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her via email at AuthorBLMooney@gmail.com