Picture Perfect

raised my eyes to find a really hot guy standing over me. Tall, blonde, buff and beautiful, he was hotter than any Abercrombie model I’d ever seen. I could do so many things with a camera and his face. Nodding my head, I stared at him. “Yes, I’m the photographer… and you are?”
    Smacking his forehead, the cutie dropped down on the chair beside me. “Ack! Sorry. I’m Ian Monroe, the bands biographer.”
    We shook hands before he continued. “I saw your website. Everyone was abuzz about the photos of you with that band that the boys just signed. I have to tell you, as hot as you were in those pictures, you look even better now, and you’re not even wearing any make-up! If I didn't already have my eye on someone… honey, you’d be beating me back with a stick.”
    I immediately liked Ian. He was sweet and funny, and he didn’t seem to have any filters. Just the type I like to hang around with. We were going to get along great.
    We wound up spending the rest of the afternoon together shamelessly sunning ourselves and talking about the tour. Through Ian I found out that we would also be travelling with a film crew and a recording crew. This tour was going to be a huge blow out, and I was quite excited.
    I asked what the guys were like to work for, and was happy when Ian said that they were all very cool and down to earth. “Of course, they’re totally letting me see where all the skeletons are buried for the purposes of the bio. Normally I have to push people to open up, but they were totally ready for it. Between you and me, I think this might wind up being the best thing I’ve ever written. It has best-seller written all over it.”
    It seemed like this tour was going to open a lot of doors for a lot of people, myself included. Thinking back to what their manager said, I understood that the guys really did think that it was important to farm good talent.
    I felt comfortable with Ian, and I really enjoyed spending the day with him. I was relieved to know that I'd have cool people to hang with while we were all on the road.
    We parted ways just after four-thirty, and after eating an early dinner, I set to getting ready. After showering and blowing my hair out, I styled it in loose waves. I kept my make-up simple, light eye shadow, mascara, and the barest hint of blush. I finished the look with a red lip-gloss that matched the dress. Once I was satisfied with my face and hair, I put on my red strapless bra and matching thong before slipping into my sheath dress. After putting on the silver stilettos, I stepped back to survey myself in the mirror. Smiling, I turn this way and that as I took in the full effect. I thought I looked the part, and I was very happy with my choice of dress. I tried not to focus too hard on the fact that I kept wondering what Flynn would think of my outfit. He probably wouldn’t even notice what I was wearing.
    Looking over at the clock, I saw that I had a few minutes to spare before I needed to head down to the lobby for my ride. Sitting down on the loveseat, I began taking a few deep cleansing breaths. So far I’d been remarkably calm, but now that I was about to meet Flynn for the first time, I needed to get my game face in place. It would be beyond embarrassing to stammer and genuflect like some groupie freak, and I had no intention of doing so. I was also mentally preparing myself for him to be a disappointment. Nothing ever lives up to the fantasies that are created in the mind, and nothing was ever going to be as intense as the night of the concert when he sang to me. I started laughing as I reminded myself that he totally had to be stuffing his pants with tube socks when he was on stage.
    After checking myself over one more time, I grabbed my clutch and headed to the lobby to wait for the town car. I didn’t have to wait at all, because as I exited the elevator I saw a driver holding a tablet with my name on it. Making my way over to him, I introduced myself. He introduced himself to me as well, telling me his name was Frank and that he would be my driver for the next few days.
    The drive to the house passed quickly, and before I knew it, I’d arrived at my destination. Taking one more deep breath, I centered myself before stepping out of the car. I couldn’t help the little grimace that flickered over my face when I saw the house. It was one of those giant ostentatious glass boxes, all sharp corners and steel. I knew it was some architect’s version of clean lines