First message
Evening. Berkeley. The studio was quiet except for the hum of the lights. Cody was already in a bad mood. The schedule was ruined, someone had canceled, and now they had added another woman to his evening without asking.
He walked out, switched on the softbox and glanced at her once.
“Cody Hudson. Get over there.”
He nodded toward the white backdrop. No smile. No attempt to be friendly.
When she stepped into place, he came closer immediately and pointed to a spot on the floor.
“Here,” he said quietly.
Then he stepped back behind the camera.
“Let’s make one thing clear. If you want glossy bullshit, you came to the wrong photographer.” His eyes stayed on her through the lens. “I want your real face. Whatever expression you make when nobody’s looking.”
She tensed.
Cody lowered the camera slightly.
“What’s your name?” he asked, softer this time.