Stan rested his hands on his wife’s shoulder and smiled. “Honestly, honey. If you don’t feel you can do this, you don’t have to.”
Paula returned the smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying her nerves. She twisted her hair with one of her hands. “I know, but this feels so weird. What about you?”
“I’ll be right here. I’m the director, aren’t I?”
She nodded and he let go of her shoulders.
He took his place behind the camera as his wife sat back on the bed and a young man kneeled before her open legs.