Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Starlet Teaser

My makeup is carefully reapplied and my hair is curled. I look much younger than my nearly twenty-five years. Then again, that’s the look the makeup artists are trying to achieve. Once my makeup is done, I’m dressed in a pair of brown corduroy pants and a peasant-like blouse. I took some test shots as I waited for Edward.

A short time later, Edward appeared and he was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, a light blue button down shirt and a gray pea coat. His bronze hair was now a deep chocolate brown and his pale skin was white from the makeup. Now, unlike when I shot these photos with James, Edward was not wearing the golden contact lenses. His eyes were the perfect match of what the eyes should be for a vegetarian vampire. I heard the photographer say that they’ll enhance Edward’s eyes with photoshop.

“Okay, Bella and Edward,” the photographer, Paul, chirped, “I want Edward to stand behind Bella with his arm around her shoulders. Lightly grasp her hip. Bella, hold on to Edward’s forearm. Edward give me a fierce, protective look on your face; Bella, a slightly scared expression with a touch of love. Okay?”

We both nodded and took our spots. Edward’s hard body was pressed against mine as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. His other hand lightly took a hold of my hip. I gripped his arm and looked into the camera. We took our pictures, moving easily with each other. Edward’s former modeling helped him a great deal and he actually helped me. We took several other poses before the rest of the ‘family’ joined us.

An hour later, the photo shoot is done and we are changing back into our street clothes. Edward was leaving to go work with the stunt coordinator while I was heading back to my condo to pack for my trip with Alice, Esme and now, apparently, Angela. I parked my car into my spot and rode up to my condo. My phone was blaring as I was entering my place. I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Ms. Swan, you have a visitor,” the doorman said.

“Do you know who it is?” I asked, my hackles going up.

“He says he’s your father.”

“What does he look like?” I whispered.

“Tall, about 5’10”. Dark hair, dark eyes, mustache, wearing a uniform?”

“Where? Where’s the uniform from?”


Fuck. “Send him up,” I sighed. Why would my dad be coming here? I mean, we haven’t spoken since I left Forks when I was eighteen.

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