'It is our best,' I said.
He -drew a wallet from his jacket and withdrew several hundred-dollar bills from itg recesses. I could see that it held many more hills.
Trembling, I wrapped the perfume. When I had finished I took the money.
'There is a thousand dollars here,' I said, moving as though to return the extra bills.
'Keep what you do not need for the price and tax,' he said.
'Keep it?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
'It is over two hundred dollars,' I said.
'Keep it,' he said.
While I busied myself with the register he wrote something on a small card. 'Thank you,' I said, uncertainly, sliding the tiny package toward him with the tips of my fingers.
He pushed it back towards me. 'it is for you,' he said, 'of course.' 'For me?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said. 'When is your day off?'
'Wednesday,' I said.
'Come to this address,' he said, 'at ten o'clock in the morning, this coming Wednesday.' He placed the small white card before me.
I looked at the address. It was in Manhattan.
'We shall be expecting you,' he said.
'I do not understand,' I said.
'It is the studio of a friend of mine,' he said, 'a photographer. He does a great deal of work for certain advertising agencies.'
'Oh,' I said. I sensed that this might be the opening to a career, of great interest to me, one in which I might be able to capitalize, and significantly, on my beauty.
'I see that you are interested,' he said.
I shrugged. 'Not really,' I said. I would play hard to get.
'We do not accept prevarication in a female,' he said.
'A female?' I said. I felt for a moment Iliad been reduced to my radical essentials.
'Yes,' he said.
I felt angry and, admittedly, not a little bit aroused by his handling of me. 'I hardly know you. I can't accept this money, or this perfume,' I said. 'But you will accept it, won't you?' he said.
I put down my bead. 'Yes,' I said.
'We shall see you Wednesday,' he said.
'I shan't be coming,' I said.
'We recognize that your time, as of now,' he said, 'is valuable.' I did not understand what he meant by the expression 'as of now.' He then pressed into my band the round, heavy, yellowish object which I had later taken to the shop of a numismatist, and then, later, on the advice of the numismatist, to the office of a specialist in the authentication of coins. 'This is valuable,' he said, 'more so elsewhere than here.'
Again I did not understand the nuances of his speech. I looked down at the object in m~ band. I assumed, from its shape and appearance, it might be some kind of coin. If so, however, I certainly did not recognize it. It seemed alien to me, totally unfamiliar. I clutched it, then, however, for he had told me that it was valuable.
'You are a greedy little thing, aren't you?' he said.
'I shan't be coming,' I told him, petulantly. He made me angry. Too, he made me feel terribly uneasy. He made me feel uncomfortably, and deeply, female. Such feelings were terribly stimulating, but also, in their way, terribly unsettling. I did not know, really, how to cope with them.
I decided I would take the beginning of next week off from work. I would try to find out something about the yellowish object. I would, then try to think things out. Then, at my leisure, I would decide whether or not to go to the stipulated address on Wednesday.
'We shall see you on Wednesday,' he said.
'Perhaps,' I said.
'Wear the perfume,' he said.
'All right,' I said.
'Now kneel in the sand, facing the camera,' said the man.
'Kneel back on your heels. Place the palms of your hands down on your thighs. Lift your head. Put your shoulders back. Spread your knees.'
'Excellent,' said one of the men.
'Now assume the same position,' said the man, 'but in profile to the camera, your left side facing us. Keep your head up. Put your shoulders back more. Good. Splendid'
'Splendid!' said another man.
'Now face the camera on all fours,' he said. 'Good. Now lift your head and purse your lips, as though to kiss. More. More sensuously. Now close your eyes. Good. 'Splendid,' said another man.
'Open your eyes now and unpurse your lips, and turn, staying on all fours, so that your left side is facing us, so that we have your profile to the camera.' I complied.
'Now put your head down,' he said.
I did so.
'Splendid!' said one of the men.
'Splendid!' said another.
I was keenly conscious of the radical submissiveness of this posture. I almost trembled with arousal. I dared not even think of the effect of such a posture upon a woman if she had been put in it by men who were truly in power over her. 'She will do very nicely, I think,' said the first man.
'She will be ideal for our purposes,' said another.
'You may get up, Tiff any,' said the first man.
I rose to my feet. I gathered that the session was over. I was confident that they were pleased.
The fan, which had produced the surrogate of an ocean breeze, was turned off. The photographer began to extinguish his lights and put them to the side, in a line against the wall.
One of the men turned off the projector and the beach scene which had been projected behind me vanished, leaving in its -place a featureless, opaque, white screen.
'You are very pretty, Tiffany, Miss Collins,' said the first man. 'And you did very well.'
'Thank you,' I said.
'You may now change,' he said.
'We well,' I said. I feared I might be being dismissed. I returned to the dressing room. I could hear them talking outside, but I could not make out what they were saying. In a few moments I emerged from the dressing room. I wore a man-tailored, beige blazer with a rather severe, matching pleated skirt, with a rather strict white 'blouse, of synthetic material, and medium heels. I had wished to present a rather businesslike look. I did not wish to wear particularly feminine clothes as men are inclined to see women who do this as females, and behave towards them and, relate to them as such.
Women are no longer forced, in effect, to dress as females, in particular ways, with all the dynamic, attendant psychological effects for both sexes which might accrue to such a practice.
I then stood before the fellow who seemed to be in charge.
I saw that be did not particularly approve of my ensemble. I hoped this would not diminish my chances of meeting whatever requirements they might have in mind with respect to my acceptability. Perhaps I should have worn something more feminine. After all, I was a woman. Too, the shorts and blouse in which I bad been placed, for the pictures, left little doubt in my mind that my femaleness, at least in some sense or another, might well be pertinent to their interests. 'Perhaps I should have worn something less severe?' I said, tentatively. I did want to be pleasing to them. Obviously they had a good deal of money to spend. Too, interestingly, they were the sort of men towards whom, independently, I felt a strong, disturbing, almost inexplicable desire to be pleasing.
'Your attire does seem a bit defensive,' he said.
'Perhaps,' I smiled. How interestingly, I thought, he had put that.
'Such defenses, of course,' he said, 'may be removed from a woman.' His remark, rightly or wrongly, struck
