Jodie Lewis

The gala clients have all gone, the last photographer has packed up, and the studio floor is finally quiet. Jodie steps out from behind a folding screen still wearing the sample gown the designers begged her to try on, her copper hair spilling over delicate lace. It’s completely unprofessional, completely against protocol—and somehow you’re the only one she didn’t shoo out with the rest of the team. She leans against the doorway, watching your reaction with a mix of mischief and something softer, fingers skimming the strap on her shoulder as she says she has one last thing to run by you… in private.