“Nope,” Christine shook her head slowly.  “Say … why don’t you come in for a few test shots?”

Jules raised her eyebrows, as she circled her hips, still taken aback by her suggestion.

Christine smiled a little, and said, “I’ll offer you a deal.  If I kick your butt today, you’ll have to come in this afternoon for some test shots… if you don’t have anything scheduled, that is.”

“And if I kick your butt?” Jules asked, her competitive juices beginning to flow.  Nothing like a bet to make things interesting for a sparring session.

“You get to think about it,” Christine laughed.  “For a day, maybe.  Then I’ll have to bug you.”

Jules frowned.  “That doesn’t sound fair to me.”

“C’mon, Jules.  It won’t be so bad,” Christine urged her. “At the very least, you’ll get nice shots of yourself taken by Patrick Deulmister, who’s justifiably famous for his fashion photography.”

“Hmmmm….”

“Look at it this way — they’ll be a nice gift for your boyfriend,” Christine added, as she continued to cajole her.

“Girlfriend.”

Christine winked, “Yeah?  Even better.”

“Give her new pics that she can hang in her office.  Make everyone jealous.  I’ll have the best ones Patrick takes of you blown up and framed for you. Ready to give to her.”

Jules continued to hesitate.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Christine said, looking quickly at the wall clock, and then headed towards the door.  She turned around to look at Jules again, before walking out of the locker room, “You must really not be in the fashion biz, Jules.  Everyone knows Patrick.  But not every model’s been shot by him, yet.   Very expensive to book him for personal sessions.  I only got him today because he owes a favor to the company that owns the lingerie line we’ll be doing the show for.  Plus he was in New York already for the long weekend. ”

Jules shrugged, and quipped, “I guess you’ll have to knock me on my ass today to kick some sense into me, then.”

Two hours later, Jules was bent over, as she sat heavily on the bench that cut across the two rows of lockers on either side of the locker room, her head hanging limply, elbows resting on her knees.  She was still breathing hard.  She heard her phone ring from inside the locker she stored her things in.