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Blue Mountain Sky: Smoky Mountain Mist Series

By Cyn Taylor

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Smoky Beauties Modeling Agency owner Brianna Walters carried a briefcase filled with paperwork and portfolios down to the edge of the water at St. Petersburg Beach. One of her late husband Grant’s old sweaters stopped at her thighs. The sweater combined with cutoff jeans that barely peeked out from underneath and brown hair that flowed well below her shoulders, bespoke a look that was anything but corporate.
Bree was still trying to settle her stomach from the anxiety air travel between Knoxville and St. Pete had caused. The fleeting glimpse of a man on the plane who had reminded her of Grant hadn’t helped her demeanor either. A calm morning relaxing on the beach might help remedy her psyche.
The client’s photographer had already begun working with her models, so she sat down to wait until the first break. There was no reason to interrupt for introductions since he had seen fit to be on time and gotten right to work.
She was immersed in papers when a shadow blocked the sun. Looking up, she saw that the girls were on a break and the photographer had come over to introduce himself. Or so she thought.
“The girls tell me you’re their manager,” he began politely.
Bree always instructed her employees not to admit that she owned the company. Most people didn’t believe someone so young could handle a business anyway so it did little harm in letting them assume that she only traveled with the girls as an assistant.
Without waiting for a reply, he began again, raising his voice.
“Well maybe you could talk some sense into ‘em. They’re holdin’ me up! We’ve been shootin’ for well over an hour and I’ve got very little I can use so far. They want to argue with everything I ask them to do. I say go left, they go right, I say stand, they sit. Now, I’m gettin’ tired and I would like to get a few good poses before we lose this great light. So how about you prance your useless little self over there and tell ‘em how to do their job? Then I can get this over with and move on to my next shoot. Got it?”
Bree was shocked at his rude words but had a fast reply as she rose from her blanket. “Mr...?” She let her voice trail off.
He quickly filled in the blank. “Brannon,” was the gruff response.
“Mr. Brannon. These young women are very capable, and I can assure you they know their job quite well. If there is a problem I’m sure we can work it out. You see, Mr. Brannon, they are accustomed to being treated with respect. I’m gathering from this conversation that perhaps you don’t know the meaning of the word. I will talk to them and see what they say the problem is.”
Brannon’s look told her he didn’t think she could handle herself, much less anyone else. He plopped down on the blanket she had vacated, lay back and promptly closed his eyes, ignoring, or not recognizing the sarcasm in her reply.
Bree prayed for patience with rude men as she made her way over to her models. She saw that the girls were troubled, especially Glory.
“Girls what’s the problem here? Prince Charming over there tells me you are refusing his ever so polite commands.”
They all began speaking at once.
“We’ve never worked with such a rude photographer!”
“He’s asking if we don’t have suits that show more skin!”
“He is insisting we meet him and some other guys for a party on the beach tonight!”
“He referred to Glory’s hair as orange!”
“Okay, okay girls,” Bree focused on calming them down with her words. “It does sound like he isn’t the type of man most of you are accustomed to spending time with. But all of you are seasoned models. I know you’ve probably worked with less professional photographers before. Any chance you can get through this session and give me some time to fix the situation? I’ll go back to my room and get in touch with Mr. Brannon’s boss. I’ll see if he can either straighten out his employee or get another photographer down here to take over. Meanwhile try to ignore his remarks. Remember, you know your true character, so it doesn’t matter if he does.”
At their smiles and nods Bree started back to where Brannon was still sprawled on her blanket. She was moving so quickly she accidentally kicked up some sand. It landed right in his face. He came up fast with fists flying. Had Bree been a breath slower in moving back, she would have sported a nice bruise on her left cheek.
No apology was forthcoming. Even after he saw it was her.
“You’re lucky I didn’t lay you flat. I’ve nearly killed men for less.”
When Bree responded calmly, he looked a little sheepish, but only a little. “Brannon, I assure you that a few grains of sand are hardly worth killing someone over. A gentleman would have seen it as an accident. Obviously you don’t fall into that category. I have spoken to the girls and though they are accustomed to a higher caliber of photographer than you appear to be,” Bree placed her hands on her hips, “they have assured me that they will do their professional best to get through this shoot as quickly as possible. We have a full week of work ahead of us and it’s too early for tempers to be flying. Now I suggest you get back to business before our morning is totally gone.”
Gathering her things, she turned and made her way back to the motel. She didn’t see the murderous glance sent her way before Brannon spun around toward the girls.
Inside her room, Bree checked her phone for the client’s cell number. As she dialed she opened the drapes so she could keep an eye on the shoot. The call went straight to Vic Andrew’s voice mail. Rather than leave a message, Bree hung up and tried his office number. The phone was answered after just one ring.
“Vic Andrew’s office. How may I help you today?”
Wow. Too bad Brannon didn’t have the same manners as Andrew’s secretary.
“This is Brianna Walters with Smoky Beauties Modeling Agency,” she told the polite female voice on the other end. “May I speak to Vic Andrews please?”
“I am so sorry, but Mr. Andrews in unavailable until next week. Can someone else help you?”
“May I speak to Ms. Felling then? She and I have been working together.”
“I must apologize again. Ms. Felling just left to attend a lunch meeting off-site. She should be back in her office by two o’clock. May I take a message for her or for Mr. Andrews? He usually checks in a couple of times a day. Or would you prefer to call back?”
Bree was frustrated that she would have to wait, but it looked like that was the only option. “Please let Ms. Felling know that we are having a few issues with the shoot in Florida and ask her to return my call as soon as she can. She has my cell number. Thank you for your help.” Bree ended the call. She would have to stay in her room to wait for a call back. It would be too difficult to have a phone conversation with the ocean noise in the background. And she didn’t really want to talk about Brannon where he might hear her. What she had to say was not going to be complimentary.
Knowing there was nothing more she could do until she could talk to someone at Brannon’s company, Bree sat down to watch the shoot.
Things seemed to be running more smoothly. Bree refocused on the portfolios she was trying to sort through.
Soon the morning shoot was over and the girls headed back to their rooms. Bree saw Brannon leering at them as they walked away. His eyes were especially on Glory. His look made Bree want to confront him, but she decided that would be better left to Vic Andrews. She had no doubt Brannon would be reprimanded once she had spoken to his boss or to Ms. Felling.
Bree tried to focus on her paperwork, but her mind kept drifting. The problems with the day’s shoot were exactly why she tried to hold all photo sessions in regional locales. She was running over what to say to Vic Andrews about Brannon when she was startled by a loud banging on her door. She made her way hesitantly across the room.
“Who is it?” she asked when she could see nothing but shoulders through the peephole.
“Vic Andrews.” A very hostile voice yelled back.
Bree couldn’t believe her luck. The very person she was trying to reach and here he was at her door. Bree flung open the door and was preparing her tirade when she faltered and stopped. Standing before her was the giant of a man she had spotted on the plane between Knoxville and Atlanta. He had looked so much like Grant from the back she had been close to going to him. Now his bulk filled the doorway and he was extremely furious.
Everything she wanted to say died in her throat as she compared Vic Andrews to Grant. He was the same height and build, same black hair, same dark eyes. There the resemblance stopped. While Grant was always smiling, this man was scowling. She had never seen Grant without a beard, but she was certain this man’s clean shaven face could not look like Grant’s. And the hair was just too perfectly groomed. The nose was different, the mouth was different, and this man was a seething volcano. Grant had never shown such hostility in all the time she had known him. Bree saw then that she was being perused in much the same manner.
Andrews regained his composure first and started right into her. “My photographer tells me you are the misguided imp who manages these poor excuses for models that your boss has tried to pawn off on my company. I have commercials to organize and a narrow deadline to meet. I will not get that done at the rate he told me your girls worked this morning. He says they are sluggish, impertinent and cannot take direction. Now you either whip them into gear or get your boss down here to do it. I really don’t care which. But get it done by the afternoon shoot or we will be re-negotiating a contract. Probably with another modeling agency.”
With that he turned and was gone before Bree could utter a word. He left her wondering if his mind was as narrow as his deadline and how she could ever have thought he resembled Grant. Finally gathering her wits, she stepped into the hallway, looking left and right. There was no sign of Andrews. Bree closed the door with a loud sigh. She tried Andrews’ cell again, but he was still not answering.
The time for the second session couldn’t come quickly enough for Bree. She had not received a call back from Ms. Felling. Bree figured the woman had probably talked to her boss and been told he would handle the situation.
She met the girls on the beach and warned them to take no flack from Brannon. “All of you are excellent at what you do. I had a visit from Brannon’s boss a while ago and I get the impression he isn’t going to be much help with this situation. Were any of you aware that Vic Andrews is here in St. Pete?”
They all shook their head.
“This is the last session of the day. Try to get through it as best you can. I would still like to speak to Ms. Felling, so I’ll be back in my room. I’m not that far away and can be here in a flash if you need me.”
Glory spoke for the group. “I’m sure we’ll be fine, Bree. Go see if you can reach Ms. Felling. Hopefully once you explain how Mr. Brannon is behaving this will be the last session we have to work with him.”
The other girls assured her they could handle one more shoot. Bree spotted Brannon angling toward them and left for her room. The smug expression on his face let her know he had reported his version of the morning to Vic Andrews and thought she had been duly chastised by his boss.
Once in her room she set back to work, glancing up often just to be sure Brannon had not inflicted bodily harm on one of her models. She tried Ms. Felling once again but couldn’t get past the same secretary who had taken the message before.
“I am so sorry, Ms. Walters. Ms. Felling had a family emergency and had to leave before she even saw your message. Hopefully she will be back tomorrow.”
Apparently Ms. Felling hadn’t talked to Vic Andrews either if she had left that quickly. Bree glanced toward the beach as she spoke and saw that Brannon and Glory seemed to be having another heated discussion. She thanked the secretary quickly, dropped her phone and hurried down to the beach to investigate the problem.
Brannon was even more rude and agitated than he had been earlier. “Listen. It’s the same old thing as this morning. I tell the girl to do somethin’ and she don’t want to do it, and I’m gettin’ real tired of havin’ to coax work outta these girls. Now you do somethin’ with them or I will.”
By the tone of his voice Bree had an idea that whips and chains would probably be his way to solve the problem. She turned towards her models. “Glory, you seem to be the one he was yelling at the most. What is it that he wants from you?”
Amanda replied before Glory could answer for herself. “Bree, he wants Glory in the water. That was not part of the agreement. It’s bad enough that we couldn’t shoot this back home or in the studio like we usually do but now this idiot wants to take a kid who can’t swim and make her get into that rough water. He won’t listen to reason.”

Bree turned back to talk to Brannon, but Glory stopped her with a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Bree. I’m willing to go in the water…I really don’t mind…I keep telling the others, but they aren’t listening.”
Bree turned to Brannon, “Why Glory in particular?”
“Look at the way the sun reflects off that orange hair this time of day. Her whole head just seems to light up. With the blue of the water and that hair, well, I think I could probably get a shot that would make that girl famous.”
“Her hair is auburn, Brannon.” Bree had dropped the ‘Mr.’ once she had gained insight as to his true character. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you’re right.” It was all she could do not to use her hand to wipe the smirk off Brannon’s face. “I do, however, forbid you to attempt to push Glory into this. She is an adult. It’s her choice, and I will leave it with her.”
Bree knew Glory’s fear of water closely rivaled her own fear of flying. She would have no part of a scheme to get her into the water on the promise of future fame. She watched as indecision played across Glory’s face.
Bree could see it in Glory’s eyes the moment she made her decision.
Glory glanced hesitantly at the water. “I want to do it.”
Bree didn’t think Glory sounded all that confident. She decided it would be a good idea to stay with the girls for the remainder of the day’s shoot.
Glory began easing slowly into the water while Bree and the other girls watched from shore. Bree sat down as close to the water as she could. She knew that if it became necessary she could be in the water in an instant.
Glory was hip deep before Brannon told her to stop and he began to line up his shots. After a while he even seemed to have Glory relaxed to the point that her fear was no longer evident. Bree knew Glory was safe in that depth unless something happened that caused her to panic. But what could happen at this point? She thought all the other girls could swim at least a little so between them they could surely handle any problem that might come up.
Bree took her eyes off Glory for a moment to look around at the colors of the sea and sky made more beautiful by the angle of the sun. Brannon was right. Glory looked amazing in these conditions. Maybe he did know what he was doing after all.
A movement to the left caught her eye. She turned to see Vic Andrews strolling down the beach toward them.
Now would be her chance. She had spent a great deal of time that afternoon going over in her mind what she would say when next they met. She was delighted it was going to be so soon. He stopped to talk to Brannon for only a moment, seemed pleased with what he heard, and headed back up the beach without even a nod in Bree’s direction.
Not one to be dismissed so lightly, Bree jumped to her feet and started after him. She was still fuming from their earlier confrontation and had a few things she intended to make clear. After going only a few steps Amanda’s scream along with Brannon’s shout made her turn and follow their gaze to where Glory had stood only moments before. The ocean was now empty.
When Bree didn’t spot her friend on the beach, she started for the water. She ran toward the place where she had last seen Glory, kicking off her shoes as she went. She jumped in and swam to the spot where Glory had been. There was no sign of her. She dove and stayed under as long as she could but there was nothing.
She looked left to right and back hoping for any sign of Glory. She wondered where Brannon was and why he wasn’t helping her. The other girls might not be strong swimmers but Brannon appeared to be in good shape and should be lending a hand.
Bree spotted something on the water and headed that direction. As she got closer she saw that it was Glory. She was face down and not moving.
Just as Bree reached to flip her over to start for shore, strong arms pushed her gently away and lifted Glory up. Bree first thought that Brannon had finally decided to help and then realized Glory’s rescuer was Vic Andrews. Of course. He would have heard the screams and shouts also.
They swam quickly side by side as he towed Glory back to the beach. When they saw that she wasn’t breathing, Bree checked for a pulse. When she couldn’t find one, she and Andrews began CPR. Andrews was counting as he pushed on Glory’s chest and Bree alternated with mouth to mouth in between. They never made eye contact but worked to save Glory as though they had been a team for years.
The other girls stood silently, watching and praying as precious seconds ticked by. Bree glanced up only once while waiting for Andrews to finish chest compressions and saw Brannon. He had lit a cigarette and didn’t even have the decency to pretend to look concerned.
Only a few minutes had passed, but Bree felt as though they worked for hours. She prayed silently that the Lord would see fit to spare Glory. With her eyes full of tears she almost missed the flutter of movement. Her breaths were shallow, but Glory was breathing. Coughing instantly followed.
Vic turned Glory to her side so she could expel the seawater. Bree saw that they were surrounded by people. Someone had called paramedics. Though they must have arrived in record time, it seemed like an eternity had passed since Andrews had carried Glory out of the ocean.
Bree and the girls huddled together as the paramedics worked on Glory while Andrews and Brannon hung in the background talking. Bree thought Andrews looked upset but couldn’t hear the conversation.
When Glory was stable, the paramedics lifted her into a waiting ambulance to be transported to a nearby hospital. She had a death hold on Bree’s hand. “Bree, thank you for saving me. I know this is my fault but please forgive me for being so selfish and come with me.” Bree patted her on the shoulder. “It is not your fault Glory. And I am certainly not upset with you or need to forgive anything. But I would like to speak to Mr. Andrews for just a second. He helped save your life as well. If you’ll let the paramedics take you on now I’ll follow in the rental as soon as I speak with him.”
Glory reluctantly agreed. “But please, Bree. Come soon. I don’t want to be in a strange place alone.”
Glory’s words reminded Bree of how young and inexperienced the model was.
It took a second promise from Bree to follow immediately to get Glory to release her grip on Bree’s hand. “I promise Glory. Let me get the other girls settled and I will be right there.”
Bree would keep her promise to head to the hospital soon. But first there was something to take care of.
“What happened?” She asked the remaining girls once the ambulance had driven away. Brannon and Andrews had wandered over. Bree expected the reply to come from Brannon. He didn’t disappoint her.
“I told her to stop, but she just kept goin’ further out. I guess she couldn’t hear me for the waves breakin’.”
Bree doubted Brannon’s story and looked to the girls for verification. Vic broke in before they had an opportunity to relay what had actually happened. “Miss, I don’t know your name but we’ve all had a rough experience and...”
But it was Bree’s turn to cut him off. “Mr. Andrews, we have already engaged in a one-sided conversation today, and I do not intend to have another.” Bree knew she needed to get her anger under control. It wouldn’t do to lose it in front of her employees. She started again. “First of all Mr. Andrews, thank you for your help with Glory. I appreciate you coming to her aid. Secondly, I was speaking to my girls, not to you. You could not possibly have seen what took place here since you were walking away, so I suggest you keep your mouth shut and deal with your employee in whatever way you think necessary while I get the girls inside and get the real story of what happened.” So much for staying in control. “Whatever you decide I can tell you right now that Brannon will not be used as a photographer by this company again. I also suggest you make an appointment in Knoxville with the owner. I’m sure Ms. Walters will want to meet with you to discuss personally how we will proceed. This shoot is over and we are going home.”

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