Love in Pictures

by Alexis A Goring

  Maybe it was because of her West Indian heritage from her dad, but there was nothing like being under water. It rejuvenated her spirit and soothed her soul. She made a mental note to visit her extended family in Barbados soon. Now that she was in Italy and near their gorgeous beaches, maybe she’d satisfy her craving after the wedding by spending time on the beach and in the ocean off the Amalfi Coast. She lived and worked not far from the Chesapeake Bay in Annapolis, but the water there was not as clear as the water here or on her dad’s island home. She looked forward to discovering Italy.

  ~*~

  Michelle held tight to Nico’s waist as they drove his Vespa into Ravello from the city of Amalfi. The small scooter made her nervous. Thankfully, Nico was not speeding, but still, she’d be relieved when they stopped. As if reading her thoughts, Nico pulled to the side of the road where a few other Vespas were parked.

  Michelle removed her helmet and got off. She ran a hand through her tresses to avoid helmet hair. Today, she’d left her purse at home and only slipped her wallet and cell phone into a side compartment of her classy camera bag. She didn’t want to be weighed down while traveling through town.

  Nico pocketed his keys, adjusted his camera bag, then turned to Michelle. “Ready for a hike?”

  Michelle glanced at her soft-pink ballerina flats. They were comfortable but nowhere near durable for a hike. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought we could park here then walk up the hill to the church where we’re shooting the wedding. Then we can walk into town. It will only take about fifteen minutes. After sightseeing and grabbing an early dinner, we can drive to see more of the coast.”

  “Okay.”

  Nico stretched out his arms as if embracing the atmosphere. “Welcome to Ravello.”

  She marveled at the scenery of this coastal town. The deep, pure blue of the water only rivaled the clear blue sky. The pink, purple, red, and orange flowers gave a feminine touch to this work of everyday art. The greenery was abundant, covering the hills and enhancing the sides of the buildings on the land. The pavement was smooth and only rugged around the edges.

  Nico started toward the church on the hill, and she followed. Nico glanced over his shoulder. “The church doors should be open. I know the priest. He’s always here.”

  Michelle picked up her pace. “Great.”

  Moments later, they stood in front of big sea-blue door. Nico pushed the door open, and they stepped inside the church and paused in awe. The walls were painted in a smooth, cream color with a hue of orange mixed with a soft yellow glow. The carpet was a rich shade of deep blue. The pews were perfectly crafted with glossy wood and ample, plush, golden cushions. As she peered heavenward, she caught sight of the beautiful stained-glass window that featured angels in red, blue, and yellow glass.

  “Welcome to San Francesco Church. It was built by Saint Francis of Assisi in the thirteenth century and rebuilt in the eighteenth century. It can hold up to one hundred wedding guests. Isn’t it exquisite?”

  “Molta bella.”

  Nico chuckled. “Is that the only Italian phrase you studied?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you expand your vocabulary.”

  They wandered around inside the large and majestic foyer. Nico pointed. “So, there will be a short podium here holding a book for the guests to sign when they arrive. The bridal party will line up here, and this is where the bride will enter and walk down the aisle.” Nico swung open the double doors, revealing the sanctuary.

  Michelle gasped. It was gorgeous. She entered, took out her camera, and snapped a few pictures.

  She pointed her lens to the cathedral’s arched ceiling. After taking pictures for five minutes, she slid into a seat in the front row pew and sat still to absorb every moment of this experience.

  Nico slid into the pew next to her. “I’ll cover the groom’s side of the church, and you cover the bride’s. I’ll capture the look on the groom’s face when his bride enters this sanctuary, while you capture the look on her face as they see each other. Does the bride want to do a first look before the ceremony?”

  “I’m used to giving the orders to my second shooter, but everything you said makes perfect sense. It’s like we’re on the same page. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  “Me too. It’s an honor to work with you. I’ve studied your photography online and in the magazines. You’re going to be famous. I’d give it a year for it to happen. And I can humbly say that I was your second shooter for your first international wedding.”

  Nico’s kind words warmed Michelle’s heart.

  He reached out and gave Michelle’s left arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll do great, bella Michelle.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ready for that hike into town? Lots of sights to see and good food to eat.”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  She followed him out of the church, and they began their short hike into the town of Ravello. Cascading cliffs with lush greenery bordered the background. Michelle took photos of every detail that inspired her—the deep pastel colors that Mediterranean architecture was known for, sleek luxury yachts and boats that were docked on the clear blue waters. She photographed window displays in the fancy boutiques that lined the narrow streets as she inhaled the sea salt scent of the air. She could live here.

  Her stomach grumbled. Nico turned to her. “I always know when you need to eat. There’s a nice restaurant around the corner. Let’s go there.” He took her by the hand and led the way.

  Nico was more expressive than any male colleague that she’d worked with before. He was still the perfect gentleman, so she wasn’t worried.

  Moments later, they were seated at a table for two inside a quaint but cozy little restaurant that Michelle would have walked by if Nico hadn’t noticed it at first. He picked up the menu. “What would you like? I can translate the menu for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She opened her menu. Despite the English to Italian language guidebook, she was at a loss for words.

  “Do you eat meat?”

  She’d allow him to order for her. “Yes. I’d like a chicken entrée and a side of salad. Bread would be nice too.”

  “Bella Michelle, we are in Italy. Bread with dipping olive oil is always a given.”

  Moments later, their waiter arrived. Nico and the waiter exchanged words in Italian. After the waiter left, Nico switched back to speaking in English. “So, tell me about yourself.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What made you fall in love with wedding photography? When did you know you wanted to be a wedding photographer? You have a studio back home in the States, right?”

  “Yes. I have a studio in Annapolis, Maryland. It’s called Love in Pictures.”

  The waiter returned with two tall glasses of ice water.

  “I fell in love with photography at an early age. My dad bought a camera for me when I was ten. I knew then I wanted to take pictures for a living, and I’ve always loved weddings. So, it made sense to become a wedding photographer.”

  “And now you’ve got your first international wedding assignment en Italia. Exciting, isn’t it?”

  “Very.”

  They spent more time in conversation until the food arrived. Michelle bowed her head and said a silent prayer. When she looked up, Nico was in the prayer position too. Once he opened his eyes, she cut into the lean chicken breast and savored it. Nico stabbed his steak with his fork and raised the food to his mouth. Neither spoke until they were ready to order dessert. Nico broke the silence. “When the food is good, no one wants to talk.”

  “So true.”

  “Would you like dessert?”

  Michelle glanced at her watch. “Not sure. It’s only 6 o’clock. Are we doing more sightseeing before we hike back to your Vespa?”

  “We could, but if you want dessert, you’d better order it before we leave, because here in Italy, we close our restaurants at 7:00 p.m.�
��

  Michelle eyes widened. “Really? Why?”

  “We want to spend time with our loved ones and enjoy life.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.”

  “I know.” He picked up the menu and flipped to the dessert section. “I’m getting the tiramisu. What would you like?”

  “What you ordered sounds good.”

  “You’ve never had it?”

  Michelle shook her head. Nico signaled the waiter. This time he spoke in English. “We’ll have two tiramisus.”

  The waiter nodded and left.

  Michelle felt confused. “I thought he only spoke Italian.”

  “Tiramisu is an Italian word.”

  They spent another hour at the restaurant, enjoying their dessert and talking like old friends. On their walk back to the church, they watched the picturesque sunset. Hopefully, the wedding tomorrow would be as flawless as today with Nico. How perfect her day would have been if Logan had been here too.

  Chapter 16

  Logan sank back into the pillow-filled, plush blue couch inside the living area of his yacht. The sparkling water in his champagne flute swooshed ever so slightly as the water lapped against his boat. The sea breeze flowed through the windows, a welcome relief against his warm skin. He inhaled the scent of salt water. There was nothing like living on a boat in Annapolis.

  He turned his attention from looking out the window to his computer and paused over his Facebook friend request notifications. London. Should he or shouldn’t he add her as a friend? He hovered his mouse over her request. For a week, he’d been avoiding calling her back, and he still wasn’t ready.

  He’d imagined himself marrying London and starting a family with her, but that was before she broke his heart. Now when he thought about her, he didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of love and desire to be there for her. But he did know the one woman who made him believe in love again, and she hadn’t spoken to him in ten weeks. Not that he was counting. He went to check her page and raised his eyebrows. His body tensed.

  Michelle had an entire album dedicated to her travels in Italy. It looked like she was there to photograph a wedding. He browsed through the pictures and froze when he saw a selfie of Michelle and a man. He was holding a camera too. They had matching smiles and were glowing. The caption read, “We’re having so much fun! #secondshooter #firstinternationalwedding #reception #AmalfiCoast #Italy.”

  Logan ran his hands through his hair. Who was this guy? Michelle’s colleague, given the caption. But they looked a little too friendly and happy to be strictly about business. Is this why he hadn’t heard from her in ten weeks? She moved on? Logan clenched his jaw. Well, if Michelle moved on, so could he.

  He confirmed London’s request to be Facebook friends. He then picked up his phone and dialed her number. His hands shook out of anger. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to rekindle his romance with London, but he could at least give her a chance and see if it was worth it. Logan pressed his phone to his ear. It rang three times. London picked it up on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “H-h-hey L-l-london. It’s m-m-me.” Logan clenched his free fist. He wished that being upset wasn’t a trigger for his stuttering, but it happened every time.

  “Oh hey, Logan! How are you?”

  “G-g-great. Want to meet me for dinner?”

  “I’d love to.”

  ~*~

  “So, what made you change your mind?”

  Logan gazed at London across their table for two inside the airy, upscale French restaurant with a name that he could not pronounce. The interior design of the place was very country with farmhouse décor, warm colors, and wide, open spaces divided by etched glass. He weighed his words before speaking.

  “We had something good. Real good.”

  London nodded and leaned forward. Her hazel eyes danced. “And?”

  “And I’d like to see if we can get it back.”

  London reached across the table and grasped Logan by his hands. Her touch was gentle and firm at the same time, her slender hands like silk. “I’d like to give us another try too.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Okay.”

  London smiled and released her grip. “I’m flying out to Paris next week. Let’s make the most of my time here.”

  “Agreed. You’ve lived there for a while now, right?”

  London nodded. “Two years. I love it. You should visit me there for Christmas. Paris is so beautiful in December, especially at night. The city lights are gorgeous.”

  London rushed on. “You know, you don’t have to if you already have plans. But I’d love for you to see the City of Love. Paris isn’t beautiful by itself.”

  Their waitress approached the table and placed two hot plates of food on the table. “Bon appétit!”

  Logan dipped his spoon into his French onion soup. He savored the smooth texture and rich taste. He didn’t look up until he was halfway done. London stared at him. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  He reached for a napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth. “No. Tell me. If we want to give this another go, then we need to be open and honest with each other.”

  London bit her bottom lip. She averted her eyes and played with the corner of her napkin. Logan stifled a laugh. Some things never changed. This is exactly what she did when she was nervous about what she wanted to say. “It’s okay. You can talk to me.”

  She glanced up and gave a timid smile. It was the same smile that made him fall in love with her when they first started dating. “Do you still love me?”

  He cast his eyes down for a moment. “It’s going to take time to rebuild what we had.”

  Her shoulders drooped, ruining her perfect posture, and for a moment, Logan’s heart went out to her. Was it possible their breakup hurt her as much as it had hurt him?

  She sat tall again and flashed a confident smile. “I’m willing to fight for us, babe.”

  Was he willing to fight for her? What would happen if London and Michelle were ever in the same room together with him? How would he react? Better yet, if he had the choice, which woman would he choose?

  His heart knew the answer to that question.

  Chapter 17

  Logan and London walked hand-in-hand toward Marie’s Mocha Café. She was officially restored to girlfriend status—his girlfriend—and he did not want to revisit his feelings for Michelle. They were too powerful.

  He held the door open for her, and she kissed him on his lips before walking in. “Thanks, babe.”

  Logan sighed. He didn’t have the heart to tell London that they didn’t have the same spark. Whatever made him fall in love with her when they first started dating years ago had disappeared. He truly was trying to rebuild their relationship from the ground up. But was it worth it? “You’re welcome, babe.”

  They stepped into the café and claimed their spot in line, still holding hands. Out of habit, he glanced to the left. He couldn’t help it. He always looked at the corner half booth not far from the smoothie machine, because that was Michelle’s spot. He looked forward to seeing her even though he shouldn’t because he was with London. But he couldn’t help but look.

  True to habit, Michelle sat there. Logan’s heart leapt then sank to his stomach, which twisted. Michelle was here, sitting in her usual place, sipping her drink while staring at her computer screen. Why wasn’t she with that photographer guy in Italy? He thought she was going to stay there for a long while. Maybe he had misunderstood her status update on Facebook?

  He forced himself to stop staring and move into a plan of action. He turned to London and embraced her. He whispered in her ear. “Let’s go, babe. I have some place better in mind.”

  Then he maneuvered her out of line and out of the café. He prayed Michelle hadn’t spied him.

  ~*~

  Logan tossed the basketball to Cameron. The ball swooshed into the hoop. What Logan really needed was to talk, and Cameron was the best man to talk to about what was
on his heart.

  Cameron bounced the ball and traveled toward Logan. But instead of passing, he picked the ball up and held it under his arm. “What’s going on, man?”

  “I need to talk.”

  “Yeah. I figured that out five minutes ago when you missed a perfect shot. You never miss. What’s going on?”

  Logan walked toward the nearby bench, and Cameron followed. They sat on opposite ends and turned to talk. “London’s back.”

  Cameron’s eyes grew wide. “Your London? The girl who broke your heart?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Wasn’t she in Europe or someplace far away?”

  Another nod.

  “Why is she here?”

  “She wants to give us another chance.”

  “Us? As in you and her?” Cameron leaned forward. He spoke in a lower tone. “You’re not seriously considering taking her back, are you?”

  “We are back together. I’m trying to give it another go and see where it leads.”

  Cameron snorted. “I’ll tell you where it leads. No place good. That woman is trouble.”

  Logan clenched his jaw. “You don’t even know her.”

  Cameron chortled. “I know enough about her to know she’s not for you. I was there when you two were dating and engaged, remember? You called me when she broke your engagement and your heart. How quickly you forget what she put you through. And you want to set yourself up for that kind of pain again? And what about Michelle? I’ve never seen you happier. What happened to her?”

  Logan tried to calm down his accelerated heartbeat. “We’re not talking.”

  “Why not?”

  Logan explained what happened many months ago. He left out the part about seeing Michelle at the café earlier that morning. By the time Logan finished, Cameron was shaking his head. “No. It’s wrong. All wrong.” He held out his hand. “Let me see your phone.”

  Logan froze. “Why?”