A Strong Hand

matters; the model is even later," Damian fumed.
    "What do you want me to do?" Nick asked, dumping his backpack in the doorway where anyone coming in would be sure to trip over it.
    "See if Gabe needs anything after you move that damned bag," Damian said. "I'll be in the studio."
    Nick kicked the pack out of the way and went to the makeup room, well fitted out with lights for the stylist to do his work. The man was short and bald, dressed in a frilly pink shirt, tight shiny jeans, and high-heeled, pointy-toed boots.
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    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    He was sitting in the makeup chair reading a magazine and looked up at Nicholas with teasing eyes when he entered.
    "Hey, beautiful. Come to cheer a lonely girl's vigil?" the makeup stylist lisped.
    Nick shook his head. "Not bloody likely, Gabe. Need anything?"
    "How about a flute lesson?"
    Nick looked puzzled and then flushed when he caught the import of the comment. "Fuck off, wanker."
    "I wouldn't have to, if you helped a girl out," Gabe called after him and snickered as Nick scuttled away quickly. He did so enjoy tweaking the pretty little straight boys.
    After a few phone calls to the agency and another half hour's wait, Damian finally emerged from his office to dismiss the stylist. "Sorry, Gabe. You might as well go home. The model seems to be lost or something. He's a no-show."
    "You know I get paid for the time just the same, right?"
    Gabe said, beginning to return his brushes to his kit. "I canceled another shoot to do this one."
    "Yeah, I know. I'll make it good with the client. We'll have you back again next time," Damian promised.
    Gabe nodded and packed up his case. Damian signed his voucher, and Gabe said, "Thanks for understanding. Some people in the biz—"
    "I know," Damian said. "Say no more; not your fault."
    "Ta ta then, love," Gabe said, returning to his usual manner.
    Damian watched the studio door swing shut quietly after the stylist left. He jumped when he heard Nicholas fling open 15

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    the door to the bathroom, letting it smack against the wall.
    "Fuck it all to hell! You don't have to break the fucking door, do you?"
    "Sorry," Nick said, and he flushed to the roots of his hair.
    His eyes dropped, and Damian suddenly noticed how very beautiful he looked when he was ashamed.
    "Come into the studio," he commanded, striding into it without looking back to see whether Nicholas was obeying him.
    Nick complied, following the photographer silently, hoping desperately that he would know how to do whatever Damian told him to do next.
    A strong hand landed on the small of his back and propelled Nicholas forward to where Damian had set up a painted canvas backdrop and what looked to be a ballet bar.
    "Just kneel there for a minute, will you? I need to check the lighting."
    Sighing, Nick got to his knees and crossed his arms, scowling defiantly at the camera.
    Ignoring the defiant expression, Damian called out, "Turn around. No, all the way. Away from me, you dolt."
    Nick shuffled around on his knees until his back was square to the camera.
    "Back toward me. To the left. Your left! Your other left!"
    Damian sighed in mounting frustration as Nicholas first turned to his right, away from the main light, and then back into his original position. He strode quickly forward and took the boy by the shoulders, jerking him into the position he wanted.
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    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    "There! That's where I want you. Stay right there and don't move."
    He raced back behind the camera, cursing softly to himself. He wondered why he'd never noticed the sculpted cheekbones and elegant jawline of his young assistant.
    Damian had noticed his eyes, of course; they were hard to miss with their long lashes, but somehow he'd become fixated on Nicholas's nose, directing all his irritation with his incompetent assistant at his nose. The slight asymmetry seemed to take up Damian's entire vision when he looked at Nicholas, but something about the way the lights were caressing the young man's face made his beauty spring to life for him for the first time.
    "Nicholas," Damian said softly in a moment of recognition.
    How could he have been so blind?
    "Yeah?" Nick responded, not daring to move from his position.
    "The model bailed. And I have this idea, a concept; it's gnawing at me. I want to take the shot. I need to," Damian started to explain.
    Nick swung around to face him and nodded. Damian was startled. It looked as if Nicholas understood just what