Free Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) by Crystal Kaswell Page B

nice. Why would Hazel Alexander want nice? She's a photography goddess.
    "Don't worry, sweetheart. I was high until I was twenty-five. You're ahead of the curve. But I'll be honest. I don't do nice. I don't do comfortable. I'm more than happy to pay you to fetch my coffee and change my lenses, but I'm not going to give you feedback on any more nice pictures."
    I worked hard on these pictures, spent forever editing them.
    Nice .
    It's an ugly word. As good as boring or bland .
    "They're good pictures, but they're empty. They don't say anything about this girl. They don't say anything about you." Her gaze shifts to the band. "You have a camera, sweetheart?"
    I nod frantically, pull my camera from my bag, and hand it to Hazel.
    She looks it over gently. "This will be fine for now." She points to the power button. "Mind if I play around with it?"
    "Of course not." I nearly bite my tongue getting the words out. This is a million times more nerve-wracking than Tom looking at my photos. Her feedback has the power to tear me in half.
    She turns on the camera and looks intently at the screen. "I'll have you do some coverage once you get settled. First few shows, stick with me, get a feel for it. Live concerts get old, but the label made me an offer I couldn't refuse."
    "Is it better than nice?"
    "Better enough." She smiles. "Editorial work fills my soul, but my soul doesn't sign the alimony checks I send to my ex-husband. I'll need your help on any editorial assignments I can squeeze into the tour schedule." She looks back to the camera, holding up her hand as if to say shush . "Now this is something." She taps the screen. "This says something."
    Hazel motions come here . I do. She's looking at a photograph of Tom, one I took earlier today.
    "Willow, sweetheart, why were you holding out on me? This is a damn fine portrait." She shuffles through a dozen photos of Tom, stops on another. "Does he interest you?"
    I stare back at her. She can't be asking if he interests me. I clear my throat. "He asked me to help him out with his bad boy rock star image."
    "Yes, he would." She looks over at Tom, makes eye contact. "He's a handful."
    "Yes."
    "Charming."
    "Is he?"
    "Funny."
    "I hadn't noticed."
    "Yes, you had." She shuffles through the pictures until she finds one from the restaurant where Tom is mid joke and full of life. "The evidence speaks for itself."
    She scans further back. Oh, God. All the way to the pictures I took in his hotel room.
    "My." Hazel looks up at me. "Willow, sweetheart. You lied just a minute ago." She points to a picture of Tom leaning back on the bed, his body long and lean. "It's clear he interests you."
    "He was helping me out with a job application. For a boudoir studio."
    "Hmmm." Hazel pours over the pictures. "You have a knack for it, sweetheart. These are excellent. Granted, you have a perfect practice model here. Most of boudoir is helping your client get comfortable. Is that something you want to do?"
    "Maybe. It was nerve-wracking but—"
    Hazel holds up a particularly sexy image of Tom sliding his hand down his torso. "Yes, I imagine Tom didn't make it easy."
    It's like Tom can tell we're talking about him. He nods to Hazel. When she turns back to me without responding, he makes his way towards us.
    Hazel looks at me and raises an eyebrow in a watch this gesture. "Of course, once you're met one famous person, you've met them all. The size of the ego on some of them—worst part of the job." She turns to face Tom. "Thomas, sweetheart. We were just talking about you."
    He slides his arm around her shoulder. "Yes, I know. Once you meet Tom Steele, everyone pales in comparison. I've heard that from a lot of different women. Oh wait, that's once you've fucked Tom Steele everyone else pales in comparison." He winks at me.
    "Thomas, don't sexually harass my assistant. It's bad enough you have her running around photographing you." She removes his arm from her shoulder. "Can't you take your own Instagram photos like