Part 4

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I had met Angel, I thought, by chance. Though, that was simply not the case. She had been hired by the media production firm I worked for in Santa Monica ostensibly as an apprentice of some sort-milling about the offices and video studios, doing what seemed like a lot of observing but really little else. Most of the staff in my 'stills' photo department was suspicious of her sudden presence, mainly because she was, admittedly, a head-turner. All positions of employment after Crash II were especially coveted and no one felt secure.

In appearance Angel seemed of Southern-European origin, with dreamy, bluish-gray eyes. Her hair was a shock of crow black, though suspiciously in contrast to her fairer complexion. Nevertheless, it only added to the stunning mix. She had radiant skin, slightly olive in tone, and an honest-looking, 'girl-next-door' demeanor when she interacted with anyone.

The total package I was getting was 'aspiring model,' but she came off alarmingly innocent for that platform. She also presented a curvaceous silhouette, accented by an obvious choice of tight-fitting clothing, which, but for the studious glasses she wore, would have given her an overly sexualized presence. Angel did have the looks which could make other women insecure in a workplace, and her sudden appearance that day in my photography studio had the effect of bringing on an undeserved ire. On the other hand, those very looks she embodied had a tendency to make men overly attentive and behave foolishly around her-I dare say dangerously in my own case. At least that describes my initial interaction with her, and I can blame no one else for my immediate attraction, leading to what I fully hoped would blossom into a more substantial connection.

The next day when I saw her again milling aimlessly about the studio, I assumed from her provocative clothing-even more stylish and colorful, that she was what is referred to as "talent" on the video and photo sets of an advertising firm. The fact that I was the only still-photographer working for the agency put me in a direct line of contact with her that morning as she showed up with our projects director. It was an odd juxtaposition, this striking young woman, child-like in some ways, and my balding, grossly over-weight, train-wreck of a boss, ambling down the corridor in tandem with her. Lou seemed extra animated that morning, and gesticulated through noisy quaffs of his coffee about his "ingenious vision" of the layout for which this girl was apparently going to be featured.

He finally and dramatically demystified her existence at the firm for me and everyone else at a project meeting, introducing her as "our model" several times and through the details of the shoot, which was scheduled for the following week. It was to be a music group's website design-becoming exceedingly rare in those times, considering the new holigraphic standards used to today to promote talent. And it was scheduled to be shot and wrapped entirely in two days. The recording group, for whom the layout was intended, I had never heard of, though they were reportedly called Messenger.

Lou's 'big concept'was that I would feature this young "siren" with my digital Hasselblad on an ethereally-lit and gauze-draped set, a la "somewhere in space on a distant planet." Her aggressive and celestial stance in a silver space suit would be "under a Maxfield Parrish blue sky," as Lou insisted. She was to be "unearthly," yet an "angelic herald" of some sort. A true "messenger," he concluded, twisting both hands upward toward the heavens.

Bravo, Lou. The craziest thing I was to learn that morning was that this "angelic herald," who barely looked twenty in her tight jeans, turquoise tube top and sneakers, actually went by the name of 'Angel.'

The photo session on Monday turned out to be pretty easy, in spite of the fact that I knew all along Angel wasn't a professional model. Nevertheless, you can imagine my surprise when two days later, while I was formatting and enhancing the photo files on my office computer, I looked over my shoulder and there she was-Angel in the flesh, peeping into the monitor screen next to me. She explained herself as "interested in the whole production process," and "hoped she wasn't bothering me." She also told me she had permission from Lou to come aboard for the duration of project to just "scope things out," if it was fine with me. Of course it was.

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