Read Hex and the Single Girl for Free Online

cringed at the sight of her eyebrows. “I have no idea,” she said. “I bet Monica fantasized about a straighter straight man.”
    “You should ditch the case, and go out with Dearborn yourself,” he said. “And then I can be his best friend by proxy.”
    Victor picked a medium brown eyebrow pencil and went to work, fattening, lengthening her eyebrow. “He’s so out of my league,” said Emma. “Besides which, he’s a slut. And my job—my housing—hinges on making him fall for
    Daphne Wittfield.” She studied her reflection in the mirror. “Dearborn got a good look at my face. And my body. I need a disguise that’ll make me invisible.”
    “Cop. Men never look at women cops. The uniform is as sexy as soap scum,” said Victor. “Homeless person. Religion nut.”
    The buzzer. “Must be Daphne,” said Emma.
    He buzzed her in and opened the loft’s inside elevator door. While the car lifted Daphne to the third floor, Victor and Emma scurried around the vast space, tidying. They threw dirty clothes under his bed, hid dirty plates in the cabinets.
    Emma made sure the bathroom door was closed.
    The elevator clanged and whirred upward. As the platform rose, Daphne appeared behind the metal gate. First the buttery hair, her taut, tense face. Then the lean arms, a slim torso and long legs that kept getting longer and longer, shod at the bottom in high heeled boots. Head to toe, Daphne wore leather, tight and black.
    “Definitely the dungeon,” said Victor.
    Daphne stood in the elevator, thwacking a rolled up New York Post against her thigh.
    I am that newspaper, thought Emma.
    Victor pulled open the gate, bidding her welcome. Daphne said, “You’re Victor Armour?”
    He said, “That’s me.”
    “Am I paying you by the hour, or by the shot?”
    “Both,” he said brightly.
    “Then we’d better not waste any time—or film,” she said.
    He said, “I’ll be using a digital camera.”
    “Then why am I paying by the shot?”
    “For the prints.”
    Daphne chewed on that one.
    Victor said, “No need to waste time thinking about it. I’m worth every dollar.”
    Emma held her breath, fearing Victor had overstepped there. But Daphne seemed to like his confidence. She said,
    “Let’s get on with it.” She unzipped her leather jacket, revealing nothing under it but a black bra.
    Emma said, “Whoa, Daphne! Don’t you want to look at the book first?” She retrieved the previous client portfolio from the beanbag chair. “Victor has two dozen backdrops, racks and racks of costumes—lingerie, shoes, props.”
    Daphne said, “I won’t need any of that. We’re doing nude portraits.”
    “Just check out the book,” implored Emma, holding it open for Daphne to see. “It’s full of great pictures. Look, this client dressed up like fairy princess. Okay, maybe that’s not you.”
    Emma started to flip through the pages. Daphne took the book out of her hands and said, “I excel at targeted
    marketing, Emma. I’m not selling my image to a simpleton wanker who blows his wad at the sight of a garter belt. My target is sophisticated and intelligent. I need images that will not only titillate William but intrigue him.”
    Victor said, “I love garter belts.”
    Emma said, “But I’m used to working with a certain kind of image.”
    “You’ll have to get used to working with something else,” said Daphne crossly.
    Emma sulked in the corner while Daphne and Victor discussed backdrops, filters, lighting. They spoke quickly, in short hand, seemingly meeting minds on what was to happen.
    Victor started arranging a white backdrop and lighting equipment. He said to Daphne, “I’ve done some advertising work. Maybe I can show you my book.”
    “Consider our shoot a tryout,” said Daphne amicably. So this was how Daphne treated someone she liked.
    Emma was not usually a jealous person. But she could smell her own slow burn, watching Daphne get chummy with Victor, her best friend, the one man in her life