Author's note: I hope to develop a few more stories around these characters. Being new at this game, I am in hopes that some of you readers will take the time to comment and to rate my submissions so that, hopefully, I will get better at it. Thanks in advance!
*****
For openers, Charles William "Charlie" Wentworth was about as black as a man could be.
By way of background, his father was a CPA who had worked for a large accounting firm, then opened his own small shop, and grown it into a very successful business.
His father had always encouraged whatever his children chose to do and instilled in them a sense that they could be or do whatever they set their minds and their efforts to.
Charlie began shooting pictures at the age of about twelve when he was given a Kodak Brownie Hawkeye camera that had belonged to his uncle, who had recently passed away.
It became immediately apparent that he had an innate artistic talent; his photographs were always different from other people's efforts, in a good way.
Following a hitch in the Marines he got a job as an assistant to a good, but not great photographer and then moved to a slightly better studio and finally as assistant to a world renown photographer, Richard Richards, or Mr. Dick as he liked to be known.
Charlie continued to shoot pictures on his own, grew, matured as a photographer, and even wrangled a show at a small uptown gallery, but nothing much ever came of it. He was, however developing a better and better portfolio of photographs.
One day Mr. Dick called him into his office, sat him down and said, "Charles have you ever considered that you may be wasting your time working as my assistant?"
"I never considered one minute of working with you wasted, Mr. Richards," he said, and he meant it.
"Well that's very nice, but have you ever thought of what you would like to be, or what you would like to do in the future?"
"That's easy, I want to be you."
"Very flattering, but you do realize, of course, that I'm gay."
"I don't mean I want to be exactly like you, but I would like to be as well thought of and admired in the business as you are."
"Aren't you sweet?" He said, obviously pleased.
"Here's what I would like to do:" he continued. "I'm going to take you around with me to meet some of the editors and art directors that I work with and have you shoot a few of my smaller jobs. It will give you a chance to get your feet wet. There are a couple of people who owe me favors and I'm sure they'll be willing to go along with the idea."
"Oh, Mr. Richards that would be incredible!"
When the day came for Charlie to leave the nest for the first time he was a bit nervous, since Mr. Dick was in the background chatting with the AD, but he knew he was watching his every move. He felt it went well, however and the AD was very pleased with the pictures, which is all that really mattered.
The next day the Maestro called Charlie in to critique his performance.
"Well, you did a good job m'boy. You may have shot more pictures than I would have, but as long as the magazine pays the extra cost for the model's time, there is no harm in being sure you got it. Nice job!"
And so it was that Charlie got his first credit line in a major fashion magazine. He still has the spread framed and hanging over his desk.
After he had successfully completed a couple of more assignments, one of them completely unsupervised, Mr. Dick outlined the next step.
"I think you need to have a gallery showing of your work." he said.
"Actually I did have a show at Montage de Photographies about 6 months or so ago. I didn't get much exposure out of that. By my count about 3 people saw it."
'Well I think we can fix that." He said. "First of all, we'll have it at my gallery: Poulailler galerie d'art and we'll make sure it gets publicized properly."
"Wow, you mean someone might actually see my stuff?"
"Not just people, but the right people!"
When Charlie opened his own studio, with Mr. Dick's blessing and encouragement he was successful from the very start. He did editorial work for the fashion magazines for a credit line and for the exposure and advertising work for major agencies to pay the bills.
Clients and models alike seemed to like him, and his work.
*****
Fast forward to the present: The scene is Charlie's studio in a converted warehouse, where the crew had just finished a shoot for a major fashion magazine, whose Art Director, one of his more difficult clients, had been mercifully absent from the set.
The shoot had gone very well and Charlie had retreated to his office to sort through the day's work, away from the hubbub and confusion which inevitably accompanied the wrapping up of a shoot.
He had nearly finished sorting through the photographs when there was a quiet knock on the door.
"Come in."
Ursula Johannessen who was, without a doubt, one of the chief reasons the shoot had been so successful, stuck her head in the door.
"I wanted to thank you for booking me and to see if you would join me for a cup of coffee somewhere, but if you're busy..."
"No, no, I would love to, there's a little café right down the block. John can tell you where it is. I want to finish this and I'll be right with you. Five minutes, max."
"See you then."
Charlie was thrilled. He had a strict rule about not dating models he worked with, in order to avoid even the appearance of favoritism or impropriety, but Ursula was so good and so beautiful, how could anyone think he hired her for any reason other than her talent? Moreover, more to the point, how could he resist an invitation to join her for coffee?
He burned a copy of the photos to a CD, slipped it in a CD sleeve and headed out, stopping by to tell John where he was going.
"When Ms. Johannessen asked for directions, I figured as much, boss." He said, winking at him.
"It's business, John, strictly business."
"Your story, boss. You know you're always right."
God but he loved that kid.
*****
Charlie found Ursula at a corner booth.
He had no more than ordered a latte when Johnny approached their booth, breathless and said, "You'd better get back to the studio, pronto. Mr. Forrester is there and he is hoppin' mad!"
"Oh is he? Well here's what I want you to do John: You walk, and I mean it, WALK back to the studio and tell Mr. Forrester that I will be there as soon as I finish here. Okay?"
After John had left, Ursula said, "If he's really as angry as John says, aren't you afraid Forrester will never give you another job?"
"Not really. I figure he needs me more than I need him and anyway he's almost more trouble than he's worth. If his magazine wasn't such good exposure, I'd have dumped him long ago. A good art director would have been there for the shoot."
"Well, I guess you know best."
