Overexposed

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Chapter 3

I haven’t been able to sleep all week, every morning I woke up screaming from those nightmares about the closet. Every time the dream would change, sometimes I’d be finding myself in the closet, other times no matter how much I screamed no one would open the door.

I went to our lunch floor to get some coffee before going upstairs to the office, desperate times called for desperate measures.

I had a new photographer starting today, he was a new transplant from New York. Carter asked that I show him the ropes, and make him feel welcomed. Apparently he was really good with his shots, he shot on film, I had seen some of his work and it was good.

I sipped on my hot vanilla latte, it still had the taste of coffee, but it was sweet. I could work with this.

As soon as I walked into the office, I could see our assistants having formed a circle around a man that I could only assume was our transplant.

He had his back turned toward me, so he didn’t see that I was right behind him as he was wooing these young women.

I had yet to see his face, I could only see that he had dark hair, and that he was tall and well built, definitely toned. I could only assume that he was good looking by the way the girls were looking at him.

“Yes, I have met him, he photographs quite well, so his shoot was easy.” My guess is that he was talking about some celebrity. “He actually doesn’t like getting his photo taken, so I was shocked he agreed to be shot by me.”

Rachel, Riley’s assistant looks behind him and sees me. Her eyes widen, and everyone’s gaze follows. They scatter, saying quick goodbyes to our transplant whose name I still didn’t know.

He turns around and I am taken aback by how gorgeous this man is. He had a thick dark beard, the lightest blue eyes, and super tan. I could guess that he was either of Greek or Italian descent.

He smiles at me, which turns into a smirk. I could tell he was cocky right off the bat.

“I’m Weston Dukas, I’m the new photographer around here.” His voice was deep, how could a voice be so attractive? “You must be my assistant.” And now he has ruined it.

“My name is Hanna Wilson.” I say, maybe Carter told him my name, and that I would be his boss. “I’m the head photo editor.” I can’t help but chuckle.

Weston’s eyes widen. “I am an ass.” He says. “Carter told me the photo editors name was Wilson, so I naturally assumed it was going to be a man.”

“Carter likes to use last names around here, his first name is Jackson.” I think he realizes he messed up.

“Well, first day and I’ve already put my foot in my mouth in front of my boss. I think I am off to a great first day.” I don’t say anything, I just take a sip of my latte, which was really good.

“Let’s go to my office, we have a lot to talk about.” I motion for him to follow me. I don’t check and see if he actually was until we got to my office.

“I’ve seen a lot of what you’ve put together in the magazine, Hanna. Your eye for photography is actually the reason I took this job. I feel like everyone has gone digital and has lost their taste for real film shots.” He was trying to redeem himself, and I wasn’t stopping him. “Carter talked extensively about how good you are, and I am very honored to be working with you.” I open my door and let him walk into my office.

I sit at my desk.

“You can stop kissing ass, Weston. It was an honest mistake.” I take another drink of my latte. I see him relax in his chair.

“I wasn’t kissing ass about your film shots. I was being serious about that.” I smile.

I put down a folder in front of him. “These are your assignments for the week. I expect the photos on my desk before end of day Friday.” His blue eyes are trying to read me, and they’re failing at it.

He was really hot. The beard was really hot. But I hoped he could reign in his ego because that was really unattractive. Maybe he wasn’t really that egotistical, and it was just how he came off.

He grabs the folder and looks at what I need him to do. I watch his eyes skim the pages, I try to finish my coffee in that time.

“Sounds good.” He smiles at me.

“Your assistant Russo should actually be waiting for you at your office now.” We both stand and I shake his hand.

Weston pauses.

“Is that a first or last name?” I chuckle.

He really didn’t want to make the same mistake again. Good.

“That’s his first name.” I say.

“Great.” He says. “Thank you.” And with that Weston walks out of my office.

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