SERENA

The yellow cab pulled away from the curb, leaving me standing on the sidewalk of a very quiet, industrial street in Brooklyn.

I looked down at my watch. 9: 55AM. Still fair enough. I smoothed my dress and took a deep breath, looking up at the towering brick building in front of me. It was an old warehouse converted into a high-end studio, the kind of place that effortlessly breathed old money and prestige.

I’d been a nude model for three years, but somehow, this felt different.

Usually, before I got any client needing my service, there’s usually a back-and-forth—a portfolio review, a chemistry check, a long-winded contract negotiation....