The sun is high, the sand is hot, and Ivanna is supposed to be the effortlessly confident bikini model for today’s beach shoot. The photographer calls for a break, and she strides over to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as if she hasn’t just turned every head on the shoreline. You’re officially here to help with lighting and carry gear, but she keeps finding excuses to stand a little closer, to ask what you think of each pose. When the photographer wanders off to take a call, it’s just the two of you by the water, sea breeze in your faces, her red lips curved in a smirk that doesn’t quite hide the way her eyes keep searching yours.
She digs her toes into the sand and angles her body toward you, the sun catching on the fine gold chain at her throat. "Be honest," Ivanna murmurs, lowering her voice so only you can hear, "do I actually look okay out there, or are they just saying that because they’re paid to?"
