French Kissing (Restless Hearts) by Hunter J. Keane Page B

wisely grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the changing area. She hurried to strip the model of the dress while I stood stubbornly with my arms crossed over my chest.
    “You better undress,” Macy said, giving me a worried look. “If you don’t cooperate, I think Clara might throw you off this roof.”
    “Don’t be dramatic.” But I shot a nervous glance in Clara’s direction.
    “Listen, Cam. Clara Beringer thinks you should be a model. Don’t ask questions, don’t put up a protest. Just do it.”
    I didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. When Macy made up her mind about something, it was almost impossible to change it. So I hurried into the dress and begrudgingly took my place in front of the camera.
    Apparently my uncomfortableness and annoyance were a good partnership because Clara insisted that whatever I was doing was working. She offered to show me the shots afterward but I was too embarrassed to look. Macy hovered anxiously over her shoulder and gave me a double thumbs up.
    “These are hot!”
    I quickly redressed in my normal, boring clothes. While Macy continued to scour the photos, I got busy packing up the wardrobe. We had the roof top reserved for only an hour more so we didn’t have a lot of time to mess around.
    “Mace, we need to get moving.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Alright.”
    She eventually came over to help, but not without also grilling me about my lack of desire to become a model.
    “It’s just weird. That’s all. Most girls dream of growing up to do something like that and you are acting like you just had a root canal. Without drugs.”
    “I know.” She had a point. Maybe I was overreacting. “I’ve just only ever wanted to be a designer. Modeling isn’t really my thing.”
    “Well, those pictures tell a different story.” She grinned at me. “Besides, who says you can only do one? Why not be a designer and a model?”
    I thought about what Macy said all night. The truth was that so far in Paris, I hadn’t been doing any designing at all. I had hoped that with my internship with Evelyn Rose, I would get a chance to show her some of my designs and get some tips. But the reality was the Evelyn was barely ever in the studio, and when she was there, she was far too busy to look at my sketches.
    If I was going to pursue my dream, I needed to make opportunities for myself instead of waiting for other people to notice my talent.
    The next day, I cornered Macy at lunch and showed her some of my designs. I made her promise to give me honest feedback, and I knew that she would. She wasn’t one to mince words, even if it meant saving my feelings.
    “These are good, Cam,” she said, sounding surprise. “Really good. I would wear this stuff.”
    For Macy, that was the highest of compliments. She was incredibly picky when it came to her wardrobe choices. She exclusively wore designer clothing, nothing off the rack. I wasn’t sure she even know how to say the word sale.
    “And you aren’t just saying that to be nice?” I asked nervously.
    “Me? Nice?” She scoffed. “That’s not something you ever have to worry about. You should show these to Evelyn. She might be able to give you some advice.”
    I shook my head. “No. I’m sure she gets this kind of stuff all the time. I don’t want to bother her.”
    “Okay, but if you don’t try, you’ll never succeed.”
    “But I also won’t fail,” I pointed out.
    Her head tilted. “Then what was the point of doing it in the first place?”
    I was really getting tired of Macy constantly pointing out how foolish I was being with everything in my life. First guys, then modeling, and now my life’s passion.
    Because we had stayed late the previous night finishing up the shoot, I was able to leave work early. I could’ve done a dozen different things with my time, but when I really thought about what I wanted to do, I reached for my phone.
    “You still have my number?” Jake asked when he answered the phone.
    “Lucky you. What are