A model and a photographer, flung together on location, seemingly despise one another.
Delite toweled herself off wishing she could just walk off the set. “One or two more shots and it’s a wrap,” Meryl said, walking toward her. “You said that twelve shots ago,” she protested from a seat without shade. “Come on,” he cajoled, hauling her from the beach chair, “on your feet. You have to pay me back for those puppies, right,” he asked, training his rat-face and squinty eyes...Read On