Hailey
The next morning, I step off the elevator with my heart hammering against my ribs. Josh follows close behind, his hand occasionally brushing mine as we make our way through the studio.
And there, in the center of the studio, stands Marcus.
He is impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, not a hair out of place, studying a lighting diagram with laser focus. When he spots us, he merely nods, professional and distant.
"Jameson. We need to discuss the backdrop for the third setup." His voice is crisp, his gaze direct—not a hint of recognition or awkwardness. "I'm thinking exposed brick instead of the white sweep."
I clear my throat. "Good morning, Marcus. Yes, exposed brick could work well with the contrast we're going for."
He nods curtly. "And I want to try that dramatic lighting you mentioned yesterday. The client is pushing for something edgier."
