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Summer completed the bartending course, happy to have a way to supplement her waitress income, and she immediately hit the hottest bars on the boardwalk, canvassing the area for part time work.

Hours later, she returned home, donned sweatpants, and brushed her hair into a ponytail on top of her head, thinking, tomorrow I canvas the sketchier clubs downtown.

By the end of the week, she received a call from the manager of a new bar, further out than she had traveled, Dungeon. She arranged an interview, trying to remember when she had put in an application there, but shrugged it off, thinking it's honest work, so what do I care?

She wore black slacks with a white shirt that dipped low in front, exposing her ample bosom, and she checked her reflection. After a few adjustments to her makeup, she was off.

Summer approached the heavy oak doors, certain that she hadn't yet brought an application there. She dismissed the thought as trivial and went inside.

The interview was easy. She left the bar, hopeful, and went to wait tables at Jersey Mike's Sub Shop, near her home. After her shift, she stopped in the driveway, collected the mail, and went inside to fall across her bed exhausted.

She woke late the next day. It was a rare day off, and she pulled on a swimsuit, and walked a block to Hudson Beach. She spread out a beach blanket, and stretched out to soak in the warmth.

Mack stood on the roof of a hotel with his camera, fitted with a high powered zoom lens. He was shooting for advertisements and brochures, hoping to bring paying crowds to his newly acquired bar, knowing that when the beach closed, they would flock to Dungeon.

When he lifted the camera and spied Summer, with her yellow gold locks spread out around her face, he snapped the photo just for himself, and stared at her through the lens.

As if sensing his presence, she got up and walked into the waves, with seaspray and mist surrounding her, and she made her way out to deeper waters. She laid on her back, floating in the breakers, totally relaxed. Summer loved the peace that she found at the ocean, with the water enveloping her like a lover.

Mack made his way onto a nearby pier and continued shooting, knowing he would have to ask her to sign a release form, to display the images publicly. Then he snapped some closer shots for his own private viewing.

After some time, she returned to her blanket and applied sunscreen. A group of men had noticed her, and clamored to be first for introductions.

Mack stopped shooting, and held the lens, curious whether she would invite their attention. All of them were handsome, and probably close to her age, he surmised, staring intently.

She spoke with them politely, and then stood, bending to brush sand from her calves, and folded up her blanket. Mack snapped the photograph, thinking she couldn't look any better if I'd asked her to pose.

Summer had made short work of disbanding her group of admirers, and Mack couldn't fathom why that pleased him. He dropped the camera, dangling from his neck, and ran across the beach to follow her. Summer returned home without a backwards glance.

Mack scrawled her address on the back of a receipt, and walked back half a block, to stand in the shadows of trees and overgrowth.

She stood in the kitchen window, filling the sink with hot water, and he snapped several shots, with the steam rising up around her face, thinking that she looked like a dream. Finally, he returned to develop the film in his dark room.

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