As we walked out the door of the deli, she asked, “What happened now?”
“I have to be in Alexandria in an hour to do a photo shoot and all she gave me is an address. I don’t know what kind of place it is I’m going to. I don’t know if it is indoors or outdoors. I don’t know what type of lighting will be available and what I need to bring with me. I don’t know who it is I’m even shooting!” With each point, I increased my pace as we quickly walked home.
“How could she not tell you who you’re going to meet?” Autumn shook her head. “There’s something wrong with that.”
“Exactly. She just said we needed one more set of photos done and when I started to say something she said some shit like, ‘Do as I say and don’t ask any questions, bitch!’”
“She did not!” Autumn gasped, stopping in her tracks on the sidewalk.
I stopped too and laughed. “No she didn’t. I feel like that’s what she wanted to say though! But she did say ‘don’t mess up’ which is just as rude.”
Autumn laughed, “You are ridiculous!” Once her laughter faded out, she asked, “Do you think she’s trying to set you up for failure?”
I looked over at Autumn and nodded. “Probably. But I won’t fail—I’ll just bring extra stuff with me and figure it out when I get there…which means I need to leave ASAP!”
As we entered the house, I checked the time before running around and stuffing necessary items in my camera bags. Once I was packed up, Autumn helped me carry everything to my car. “You okay back there?” I looked over my shoulder to see her eyeballing the equipment.
“I’m fine. But will you be okay? This is a lot of stuff to carry by yourself.”
Putting everything in my trunk, I said, “You have a date. And I won’t need all of this stuff at the same time. It really just depends on where we are and what the lighting looks like. I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Okay,” she conceded, dragging the word out longer than necessary as I got in the car and started it.
“But what I do need your help with is this,” I began, waiting until I had the window rolled all the way down before continuing. “Will you pick out something for me to wear to the gala? I trust you so it truly can be anything.”
Autumn’s face lit up and her eyebrows shot up. “You know I’m picking it out of my closet, right? And I won’t be picking out a solid black dress?”
Putting the car in gear, I smiled. “I know. And Autumn, don’t mess this up,” I said with mock seriousness.
“Goodbye,” she giggled, rolling her eyes.
With moderate traffic, I made it to my destination in twenty-four minutes. Pulling into the parking lot next to a brick building with BOX emblazoned on the front and side, I double-checked the address. The place didn’t look run-down; however, it definitely had an air of roughness to it. With only one camera bag, I got out of the car.
119 Elk Hill, I read the plate fashioned on the black glass door. I pulled the door and it wouldn’t open. I noticed a keypad, a card reader, and an intercom so I pushed the intercom button. Static filled the speaker and then the door buzzed open. I opened the door and right as I let it shut behind me, I thought, Autumn would have never walked in here. And if I’m being honest, now that I’m thinking about it, I should probably check to make sure I’m not locked in!
After confirming that I could actually open the door back up from the inside, I felt more confident walking further into the building. The short hallway led to a large room with a boxing ring in the middle of it. Three middle-aged men milled around—one in gym attire and the other two in suits—but besides appreciative glances from the group, they continued talking loudly as I moved further into the room. I couldn’t tell if they were arguing or talking as they walked toward an office in the back.
The lighting in the room wasn’t the best. It was simultaneously dim and harsh. My eyes swept the ceiling to see if any additional lights could be turned on.
“Can I help you with something?” One of the men in a suit asked as he peeked his head out of his office on the other side of the boxing ring.
Yes, perhaps you have someone I can hire to beat Gabriella Torres’ ass so I don’t have to worry about going to jail, I grumbled to myself as I struggled to think of what I was going to say in response. I don’t know who I’m here to see!
I opened my mouth and then closed it twice before I started, “Well, I—”
“She’s here to see me,” a voiceinterrupted, causing me to whip around quickly. Even though I knew it was him when I heard his voice, seeing him made my heart start beating wildly.
“Xavier,” I exhaled as soon as my eyes landed on him. Wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that stretched deliciously over his chest and arms, he looked casual and undeniably sexy.
“Summer,” he returned, stretching his hand out to shake mine. A smile played at his lips before he said, “Long time no see.”
Without saying anything, I shook his hand while gaping at him. He pulled me closer to him and whispered, “I like the way you say my name.”
The air felt thick as I struggled to inhale a complete breath. I spent all week analyzing every conversation I’d ever had with him. Night after night, I dreamt about him. And I was convinced that if I could just avoid seeing him, whatever these feelings were would just go away.
I wonder if he can see how turned on I am in his presence. I wonder if he senses it and that’s why he has that little smirk on his face, I pondered as I stared into those light blue eyes, unable to speak.
When he let go of my hand, I finally found my voice. Clearing my throat, I asked nervously, “What’s going on?”
He smirked. “You’re here to take pictures of me.”
My eyes widened and I gawked at him. “Wh-what?”
“You will use your camera to take my picture. For Style Magazine. Your employer.”
I shook my head and looked around in confusion. “Wait a minute. You’re one of the eligible bachelors?”
Calm down…bachelor just means he’s not married. It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. Because he’s not single…is he? No he’s not…is he? Ugh! Why did I let Autumn get in my head again? This whole thing is her fault, I thought, leaving myself a blameless victim in my feelings. Autumn’s whole philosophy on feelings and romance coupled with Xavier having the audacity to look like a Greek god are the reasons why I feel so out of sorts. Yep. That’s it.
“You’re not even listening to me,” he chuckled, running his hand across his stubble. He licked his lips before he said, “Follow me.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized as I followed him down another short hallway to a boxing gym. “What did you say?”
Get your shit together, I chastised myself, newly focused and taking in my surroundings. The furniture was scarce, but there were punching bags and speed bags hanging throughout. Weights lined the mirrored wall. A bench was positioned toward the center of the room. Xavier sat down on one side. I sat down on the other.
“I said, where do you want me?” he repeated his earlier question, avoiding eye contact with me and looking straight ahead.
My entire body clenched in response to his question. While he wasn’t looking, my eyes slid down his profile slowly. “What?” I whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear.
Getting up from the bench, Xavier took three steps in my direction. If I stretched my arm out, I could touch him. And I wanted to touch him. I let out a puff of air and stared up at him.
Now he towered over me and the angle put me in a submissive position, which I generally hated outside of the bedroom. But the way he looked at me wasn’t dominating or intimidating, just overwhelming. The only sound in the silent room was my heavy breathing because I wanted him so badly.
“Where do you want me?” he repeated. There was lust and amusement in his eyes as they dipped down over my body. My fingers curled unconsciously as his gaze heated my skin. The question hung thickly in the air and my heart pounded loudly in my chest.
Wit
h him standing almost directly in front of me, his crotch was at eye level. I did everything in my power to hold eye contact and not get distracted. I’m trying to be good, I promise I am, I prayed as my mouth became dry.
I cleared my throat, licked my lips, and cleared my throat again. And with my camera bag clutched in my fist, it hit me.
He’s asking me where I want him to pose for the photographs, I realized as I felt the flush taking over my entire body.
The realization caused me to break eye contact, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“What?” he asked with a sexy smirk. “What’s so funny?”
I shook my head and stood up. “Nothing,” I answered, stifling a laugh.
He chuckled and folded his arms. “Well, I asked you a serious photography question and you got quiet and turned red. What’s that about?”
Laughing out loud, I jumped up. “I knew you were doing that on purpose!” I pushed his arm and grabbed my camera bag. I was trying to storm off, but I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to be effective.
Wrapping his hand around my forearm, he pulled me back toward him, turning me around to face him. As soon as I made eye contact with him, my laughter faltered. We were only inches apart and I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. I could smell his cologne as it wafted between us. Holding me hostage with the way he looked at me, my heart fluttered and the tension between us was palpable.
Releasing me from his grasp, he smiled sexily. “I was just having a little fun with you. Especially since you’ve been avoiding me.”
I hesitated before I lied softly, “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
His eyes sparkled, challenging me. “We were bumping into each other every few days and then all of a sudden, I don’t see you for a week. That sounds like someone…” He pointed at me. “…is avoiding someone.” He pointed at himself.
I cocked my head to the side and met his challenge. “You still haven’t gotten over yourself huh?”
“I will when you do,” he countered with his eyebrows raised, running his hand across his stubble.
“You didn’t see me for a few days, so you somehow convinced Style Magazine to put you in the magazine to force us to spend time together? Who’s the stalker now?” I taunted him with a hand on my hip.
He laughed loudly. “Stalker, never. Creative, always. And in my defense, I never called you a stalker.”
I put my bag on the bench and walked to one of the punching bags. “You implied it. But we started over remember?” Wrapping my arms around it, I tried to get my fingers to touch. They didn’t quite make it so I dropped my arms back down to my sides. I stood beside the bag, looking at him. “So what is this place? Why are we here?”
“I was instructed that I would have my picture taken at the place where I spend my time. This is my gym.”
“Your gym as in you own it or your gym as in this is where you work out?” I asked curiously.
“No, I don’t own it. This is just where I work out. I love this place.” He looked around. “It’s not much, but it’s home, you know?”
“It’s nice,” I agreed, glancing around at my surroundings. “And it doesn’t stink. But the lighting isn’t ideal. I have some lights in the car. I’ll be right back.”
“So you want me here?” he joked, with his arms outstretched.
With my voice monotone and void of any emotion, I replied, “You are going to be a terrible model, I can already tell.”
He laughed as he followed me to my car. “You brought a lot of stuff,” he pointed out as soon as my trunk opened.
“I don’t need all of it. Your girl Gabby didn’t tell me who I was shooting today…or the location or the lighting specifications or anything at all for me to be prepared,” I muttered as I put a light, a stand and a tripod in his arms.
Closing my trunk, I turned to find him looking at me. “What?” I inquired innocently, my eyebrows coming together.
“My girl, Gabby? As in Gabriella?”
Ignoring his question, I walked back to the door with him close on my heels. I pulled on the door and it was locked.
“It’s keycard activated,” Xavier informed me.
So I knocked.
“It closes at noon on the weekend and no one will open for a knock. You’ll have to use my keycard.”
Looking at him over my shoulder, I asked, “Okay, where is it?”
With his arms still loaded up with stuff, he smiled and turned around.
This is just so I can get inside the building for the photo shoot. That is it. I’m not going to enjoy it one bit, I told myself as I grabbed a hard plastic card that was next to his wallet in his back pocket. I didn’t feel or grab or fondle or anything. Yes!
“You played a lot of Operation as a kid, didn’t you?”
I ignored him, but when he was safely in front of me, I smiled and held in a giggle. I wish he wasn’t funny. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t funny, I thought.
Once we were back in the boxing area, I told Xavier to change while I set up. He left for the locker room and I set up the lights next to the bench, facing away from the mirror. As I was positioning the second light, I heard him coming back in.
Wearing black and green boxing shorts with his white t-shirt and matching shoes, he looked like a professional athlete. And I was suddenly aware of how alone we were.
“Why isn’t anyone else here?” I asked, gesturing around the empty room with my free hand. “And if this is a gym that you don’t own, why are we the only ones in here?”
“Like I told you, they close at noon. But the owner, Big Al, is like a father to me so my keycard works all the time.”
I walked over to him and positioned him near the punching bag. Backing away, I decided I wanted more light to hit him. “That’s cool. So you come here a lot?”
“I pretty much grew up in here. I spent a lot of my teen years in here. And then after college, I left for London. When I came back, this was the only place that felt familiar to me. It’s more than just a place to go to learn to fight, more than a place to just work out to me. It’s where I learned about life. Real life.” His words were impassioned and the look in his eyes held nothing less than raw emotion.
Emotion like that doesn’t bubble up and erupt for no reason, I observed as I lifted the camera and took a picture of him deep in thought.
“I’m taking a couple of test shots,” I informed him when he looked up in confusion. Wanting him to keep talking, I quickly asked another question. “Is that what you told the interviewer for the magazine? Because hearing the way you talk about this place automatically makes me want to know more. I’m sure it’s going to make for a compelling story.”
“I actually didn’t tell the interviewer any of that,” he mentioned slowly. “I’ve never brought anyone here.”
I aimed my camera at his face. “Why not?”
“I don’t have many places where I can just be myself. I didn’t want the name and location to be out there. So when he asked about hobbies, I said I like to go to the gym. And I left it at that.”
“Oh, okay,” I took the camera away from my face to look at him without the lens impeding our view of one another. “So you lied.”
“I didn’t lie any more than you did when you said you weren’t avoiding me.”
I laughed and put the camera back up to my face. “The lighting is perfect now. I want you to just talk to me like you would a good friend. If you can, try not to look at me. I’m going to be moving around and I just want you to be natural. And then once we move on to action shots, we’ll be doing less talking. And then we should be done for today. I have something this evening so I can get your office shots on Monday, if that works for you.”
“Okay,” he said simply. He looked a little uncomfortable now that I was officially starting the photo shoot.
“So why aren’t there many places you feel like you can be yourself?”
He was quiet for a moment as he looked just above
my head. “How long have you been a photographer?”
Ah deflection… I know it well, I thought as I continued taking photos of him.
“I’ve been a photographer since seventh grade. A teacher suggested I do something that wasn’t music related because of my lack of musical skill. So I picked up a camera and never put it down.”
“Nice. But no musical skill? Does that mean you can’t dance?”
I peeked over the camera. “I can dance my ass off. Can you dance?”
“Of course,” he scoffed. I smiled and captured the shot.
“Well, are you going to let me see some moves or not?”
“First, there’s no music. Second, I’m not here to entertain you. Third, where’s the money for this dance?”
Pulling the camera away from my face, I cocked my head to the side. “First, I can find music to play. Second, yes you are. And third, I think I have enough one-dollar bills to get a dance,” I countered flirtatiously.
He’s in a relationship so stop flirting, I reminded myself. In the back of my mind I could hear Autumn’s voice. Just ask him. Ask him.
“So you never told me how you managed to convince Style Magazine to put you in the magazine. I don’t even know what you do. Do you qualify?” I teased in a friendly manner, changing out the lenses.
“For the record, they asked me to do the ‘Eligible Bachelor’ spread a while ago. I declined. I only just recently agreed to do it.”
“Hmmm…” I tapped my foot dramatically. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth. Why would you decline the opportunity to be in the magazine in the first place?”
“I had nothing to gain from it. And I like my privacy.”
“What’s with all the secrecy? You don’t have many places where you can be yourself. You don’t like for people to know where you live or work out. You know my name without me telling you. Are you a spy, Mr. Ford?”
He laughed and I snapped another photo.
“No, I’m not a spy, Ms. Wilson. I just…” He trailed off and looked around the room. When our eyes met again, I saw a fleeting hint of vulnerability before it morphed into something indiscernible. I snapped another photo.
Autumn and Summer Page 18