Lydia Gray: Mother-daughter models

"Of course! We wouldn't have it any other way! Look, Scott, I'll give you a five thousand dollar advance this afternoon. Would that be enough to entice you?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Harry," Scott remarked, hoping he had been able to control the elation in his voice. Five thousand dollars! "You haven't even asked me what I'll charge you for the work."

"Scott, we'll pay you the same as we've been quoted by the top photographer here in Dallas. Is that fair?"

"Sure, Harry," Scott smiled. "But you'll never know if you could have hired me cheaper."

Both men laughed heartily and Harry Halliday picked up the check. He gave Scott a card and told him to come right over to the office to pick up his advance.

Scott Nelson looked at the sky as he unlocked his car and gave a silent prayer of thanks. Harry's assignment would undoubtedly be dull and uncreative – after all, what could you do with a golf cart, but it was at this moment in Scott's life a true lifesaver!

The H. E. Merrill Custom Sporting Goods Company, Inc. offices were located in a semi-modern building in an industrial center near the Preston Hollow section of Dallas.

When Scott arrived, he was ushered into Harry's office and he noted on the door that his friend was now executive vice president of the company. Harry met him with a check for five thousand dollars in hand.

"How's that for service?" Harry smiled. "Look, I'd like to take you on a tour of our plant, but they've just called an executive meeting. So how about in the morning?"

Scott said that would be fine, picked up a couple of brochures on the company's products and climbed back into his car. He drove downtown to the Republic National Bank in the hub of Dallas and opened a checking account with the Merrill Company check.

It was almost six o'clock when Scott finally located the perfect apartment house. The rent was reasonable, six hundred dollars for a one bedroom furnished apartment, and the manager included the use of an unused storage room near the laundry area for Scott's equipment. There was even running water for his tanks.

The two months rent and three hundred dollar security deposit made a sizable dent in his new bank account, but Scott for the first time in months felt that he had a real workable setup for his equipment and a nice place to live.

The apartment house was by no means luxurious. It was an average unit, perhaps a little rundown from better days, but still quite respectable. There was a swimming pool behind the car ports and each unit was air conditioned against the almost incredible summer heat.

By the time he had unloaded the trailer, Scott was exhausted and lacked the energy to set his equipment up. He looked in the phone book and found Harry's number listed. Scott called Harry from a pay phone down the street and explained that he would need an extra day to get all of his equipment arranged and working. Harry agreed immediately and told Scott to come in the day after tomorrow.

Early the next morning Scott tackled the old storage room. He mopped it out and then began arranging his equipment. Garden hose he bought at a local hardware store served for the drains he needed, and he rigged his own makeshift lighting and electrical connections.

Scott was surprised to find the apartment almost completely deserted during the day. Even the manager worked. He was used to being alone when he looked up to find a pretty young girl standing in the doorway to the storage room.

"Hi!" she said a little shyly.

"Well, hi!" Scott smiled. "My name's Scotty. What's yours?"

"Kathy. Kathy Marsh. I live in number twelve. What are you doing?"

"Well, Kathy, I'm setting up a developing lab. I'm a commercial photographer and this is where I'll develop all the pictures I take. Say, you don't happen to have some friction tape, do you?"

"I think my mother has some. I'll get it," she said, turning and trotting away.

Scott smiled after the girl. She was young, probably thirteen or fourteen, but one of the prettiest little girls he could remember seeing. She had a sweet, angelic face that he knew would photograph beautifully. Her hair was golden blonde and she wore it long and straight. It served as a halo around her gorgeous face.

When she returned with a small roll of friction tape and shyly handed it to him, Scott became very aware of the young girl's body. She was in that blooming stage that made men turn when she passed. Her breasts were full and firm on her slender chest and the forty-eight-year-old man could swear he could see her pointed nipples pressing against her sheer blouse. Her waist was narrow and her hips full and flared. Scott appraised her long, slender legs and felt a small twitch in his balls. She was a beauty – a real beauty!

"Are you going to work here during the day?" the pretty young blonde asked.

"Sometimes," Scott replied as he peeled a piece of tape and sealed a connection on his developer.

"I'm glad," Kathy said softly. "I get lonely here during the day with nobody around. Maybe I can help you?"

"Well…"

Scott wanted to tell her that he really didn't need any help, and that with her body she'd be more of a distraction than a help, but when he saw the pleading, anxious look in her eyes he didn't have the heart.

"Well, I guess I could use some help at times, Kathy," he smiled.

"Ok, great!" the pretty child said eagerly.

The security under which Merrill kept its new golf cart approached that of a secret weapon during wartime, and Scott Nelson was tired of having a security man leaning over his shoulder with every shot he took.

Scott's first request had been to photograph the machine out in the natural sunlight, which would have solved a number of his lighting problems. Larry Halliday had regretfully denied Scott permission to move the cart outside, explaining that the security problem was too much of a risk for them at this stage. The key to the new design was immediately recognizable on the instrument panel of the dash, Larry explained, and Scott had spent the entire morning experimenting with angles that would show the sleek new lines of the golf cart without exposing the dash instrumentation.

After running a series of what he called "trial shots", Scott quit and returned to his apartment house to run them through the tanks in order to see what he had.

The red lights came on for the color tank to indicate that the temperature of the chemicals had reached the required level and Scott began loading the three rolls of film he had shot.

"Hi!"

Scott turned to see fourteen-year-old Kathy Marsh standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Kathy," he returned, finishing the load of the film in the automatic machine.

"What are you doing?" the pretty young blonde asked as she walked into the room.

"An exercise in futility," Scott remarked with a sigh.

"What?" the young girl asked with a perplexed look on her pretty face.

Scott set the controls and turned to explain to Kathy that he had spent the morning photographing a new product from various angles. He told her that he had to be certain a particular part of the new product did not appear in the photographs.

"And that's damned near impossible!" he concluded. "It's like trying to shoot a nude girl with all of her pretty features hidden behind a tree. I know they'll be lousy."

"I don't see how you can tell without seeing them," Kathy remarked.

"In my business, Kathy," Scott said with a smile, "you get a sixth sense about things. You see a beautiful tree and you immediately know that you can't get a decent picture of it because the angle is all wrong. Or I can see a gorgeous girl and right away know that she won't photograph worth a damn."