“Is this a good angle?” asked Brandon, tilting his chin up quizzically.
“Yeah. And, uh…” I hesitated.
“Hm?”
“You don’t have to be naked for this.”
“Just keep going with the painting.”
What an asshole.
“So what are you looking for? Something elegant, something bold, or anything in between?”
“I’d like a brave expression on my face, with a hint of a seductive snarl.”
His bottom lip curled in what was a desperate attempt at a “seductive snarl”.
“Alright then…”
I chose a pasty cream color for his skin. He didn’t like that; apparently, he was octoroon.
Coulda fooled me.
“So, honey, how’s it goin’?” he asked when I was halfway through the painting.
“Fairly well, I suppose. Don’t call me honey.”
“Well what CAN I call you? Sugar? Sweetie? Munchkin? Dare I say…lover?”
“Jeepers, we just met. Can you tone down the hormones?”
I made his teeth white with a slight yellow tint. His eyes were a dull blue with flecks of green.
It’s a weird business, professional portraits. With weird customers.