Chapter Sixty Nine

Miami was hot. Really, really hot. Compared to Seattle, it was another world.

And standing there below the burning sun, pretending I was not covered in sweat so thick it could be another layer of skin, was next to impossible. Thankfully, the photographer called a break and one of the girls ran over and handed me a water bottle. No one else was suffering the way I was.

But hey. That was what you get when you put a northern girl in a southern climate when the North was pretty much still in winter.

After ten minutes, a wipe-down, and reapplication of my makeup, I headed out to the waterline. The photographer was a nice, friendly, thirty-something woman who was famed for her beach shots. It was evident to see—the positions she asked me to contort my body into were practically fucking yoga. I was half tempted to ask if she’d like to shoot me in the downward dog position.

Of course, she’d likely give the other girls, who were holed up in diffe