by Amy McKinley
My phone pinged from the pocket in my backpack, but I ignored it. Blocking out the consecutive beeps, I focused on what I’d come to accomplish. There was limited time with the perfect light, and I wanted to get all of the shots within the same hour.
The first was a series of profiles: my back to the lens, hair in a loose braid, looking behind me, and chin to my shoulder, and then facing the camera with a final shot in the same position but with my head bowed.
Excitement pinged in my stomach as I checked the frames to make sure they were what I wanted. They were. I couldn’t wait to get back and start editing, but I had to finish the rest. I did a series of fast-frame shots while spinning on the sand, arms out, carefree. The last required the camera close to the water. After setting it up, I held the hem of my dress and waded into the mostly still water. After several poses, I called it good.
Packing up didn’t take long. The breeze picked up, and I smiled at the way the palm trees rustled overhead. The puffy white clouds were ushered out by several darker ones, and the salty air carried floral notes, charged with the increasing electricity. A storm had been forecast for today, which was one of the reasons I wanted to get the shots done closest to dawn. Thankfully, I got what I wanted accomplished—I couldn’t risk losing time on this project.
It was so peaceful on the beach that I decided to hang out and relax for a little while, or at least until the grocery store was open. I figured I could beat the rain before I got back home.
Luck was on my side, and with grocery bags in hand, I walked back to my apartment while people hurried down the street and sidewalk to begin their day. With a hard yank, I pulled the apartment building’s door open then trudged up the stairs. Wary from the recent trouble I’d been having, I slowed my steps and checked along the floor to make sure no one was there who shouldn’t be. The neighbors on my floor mostly worked during the day, with the only stay-at-home mom at the end of the hall with her three-year-old son, and they were frequently out of the house at parks or doing other activities. It was close to eleven, so I doubted anyone on my floor would be home.
When it was clear there wasn’t anyone around, I neared my door. Keys in hand, I grasped the doorknob then sagged with relief after there was no give when I pushed. It was locked. My fingers were shaking so much that it took three tries for me to get the key in, and once inside, I immediately slid the dead bolt home.
Moments later, I’d put the groceries away, made some tea, and opened the balcony door to let in a breeze until the rain came. I connected my camera to my laptop, downloaded the photos, then got to work.
I imagined the series as a window into the psyche. The portraits were where I wanted to begin. First, I switched the shot from color to black and white. The first solid image was with my back to the lens, my shoulder blades prominent and my head bowed. When I was satisfied with the lighting and adjustments, I layered in the photo of me facing the camera with a slight downward tilt to my chin, which made it look as though I was intensely peering at the camera. Then I faded the layer enough to give the impression I wanted.
Pain and defensiveness bled from the solid image, while the shadowy one promised retribution. I loved it. In a way, it was how I saw myself being once I conquered the fear. I was getting there. The move to Hawaii was a big part of that—cutting ties with the past and starting fresh felt good.
The rest of the pictures would be in a similar layout, but the psychological meanings would differ from playful to struggling to deceptive. I selected a side portrait with my head tipped back, eyes closed, and lips parted, changed the background to gray scale, and deleted my form, leaving only the outline of my head. Then I filled the inside portion of my head with a color picture of water that rose from the bottom half and stopped at the center of my open mouth. The image gave insight into what couldn’t be seen and how the person was drowning, although it was only visible on the inside.
There were two more frames to finish, but my aching shoulders and back needed a break. Thunder rumbled outside. I picked up my tea and went to heat it before sitting out on the veranda to watch the storm roll in, one of my favorite things to do.
My phone pinged again. I walked by it, refusing to get derailed. The day was all about homework. There wasn’t much time until graduation, and I had to turn my final assignments in early so I didn’t need to go in for the classes. I wouldn’t risk seeing Charles.
Just the thought of him soured my mood. How did we go so wrong? Once my photo project was turned in and I took the final for Charles’s class, which I was glad would be administered by his teacher’s assistant, I was strongly contemplating moving. Part of me didn’t want to—I truly liked being around Xander, and then there was Ava and the fast friendship we had.
It was time to go. The recent problems and how things had changed for the worse with Charles pushed me further into the idea. I feared I was more like my mom and aunt—unlucky in love—than I’d thought. In the end, my aunt had had no one and hadn’t been found for weeks after she’d died, and my mom had been married to a mean drunk who treated her with no respect. I didn’t want either outcome. But if I was unlucky like they’d been, things would end badly, and I wanted to leave before events had the chance to escalate further.
The sky had grown dark and angry. Lightning split the horizon, and I waited, counting until the thunder rumbled. So long as the wind didn’t change, I could remain on the veranda, watch the weather, and be a part of nature’s outrage, which matched my general sense of unrest.
The next day, I would give notice at the Coffee Hut. I hadn’t needed to work there, but it kept me occupied, and I enjoyed the interaction it’d provided. Otherwise, I was behind my camera or editing when I wasn’t in class. But then Charles had happened. And my world changed all over again. I’d liked it for a while. Not anymore.
The problems with him worked against the other progress I’d made. I’d done so much hard work in counseling to banish the nightmare of my childhood, but the recent break-in, and his possessive behavior threatened to undo everything. I couldn’t let history repeat itself.
16
Riley
Xander’s large hand clasped mine as we walked to the Coffee Hut. In a slow caress, his thumb moved over the back of my hand, causing my pulse to flutter. He’d picked me up and we’d gone to lunch. It was Thursday’s highlight so far and what got me through the stress of last night.
Out of the corner of my eye, I took him in. Towering over me, his muscular body and arresting features drew every person’s eyes as we passed. But it wasn’t only that. He had a commanding presence blended with an easygoing vibe. Hard to describe, but it was an intoxicating mix.
In an hour or so, he would leave for his island to get to work on the cabins, but he’d made time to see me before he left. It meant something. Warmth spread through my chest over the effort he’d made.
“I wish you didn’t have to work today. We could head up the coast and take in a live show at one of the resorts.”
I shivered from the effects his deep baritone had on me. “Mmm, that would have been fun.” I wasn’t ready to tell him I planned to turn in my notice. It was time. As for moving away from Honolulu, I was almost positive it was the right thing to do, but because of him, I was also on the fence.
Things had been going well with Xander and me. The only dark spot was the anger and hurt I continued to harbor about Charles’s persistent behavior. But all that was done—I hoped.
I should have been heartbroken, but I wasn’t, not even a little bit. I chalked it up to how much we’d been fighting and the fact that he’d lied and hidden his marriage from me. It’d all added up to me pulling away.
The sign for the Coffee Hut swung perpendicular to the building, and Xander and I stopped before it in front of the large picture window. He gave my hand a tug, urging me to turn and face him. Our gazes met. I sucked in a stuttered breath, completely drawn to him. I inched closer.
He raised his hand and cupped my cheek, and all thoughts
scattered. He was intense, barely contained energy. And when he was focused on me, I felt everything. His fingers shifted and threaded through the hair at the base of my head, and my lips parted. I wanted him to kiss me. I didn’t care that we were in front of where I worked.
In slow increments, he lowered his head, giving me plenty of time to back away should I want to. Everything in me stilled. I didn’t want to pull away.
His lips brushed mine in a teasing caress. My stomach clenched, and desire shot through me like whiplash. A moan slipped past my lips as he deepened the kiss and made my head swim. The world faded away—it was only the two of us. My arms looped around his neck. I pressed myself against his solid chest.
When he broke our kiss and pulled back, I couldn’t make myself let go. I could’ve kissed him for hours.
I was grateful that his arms held me up, because I was shaky from the kiss. There was so much promise in it. When will the next time be? I already craved more. I wanted to explore all of him, completely guilt-free. And honestly, after several kisses with Xander, I was more than ready to take things further.
Maybe I would give Honolulu another shot if it meant I could continue to see Xander. My finger twitched, and I longed for my camera to capture those chiseled features that only enhanced the sensual curve of his full lips and telling dilated eyes. And… a picture of him would give me that window I needed to see him clearly, mainly because I didn’t trust my judgment after so many mistakes before.
“Come to the island with me this weekend.” His deep voice was hoarse with desire.
I nodded, dazed from the sensation of his arms around my waist, my lips swollen from his kiss. “Okay.” The bells above the door jingled as a customer left, reminding me that I needed to get inside for my shift.
He grinned. “I’ll pick you up at the harbor early Saturday morning.”
I agreed, and he made me promise to be careful in the meantime. We settled on a time, and I vowed that I would bring my camera to capture his image. It was in my bag right now, but I’d forgotten it because I’d been so caught up in our date. The days would drag until I saw him next. Xander occupied my mind, and I looked forward to spending more time with him. He made me happy.
When I stepped inside the coffee shop, the chilled air cut through the humidity that attempted to follow me. Several strands of my long hair clung to my neck and back, the sticky air causing it to thicken much more than usual with curls and waves. I twisted it onto the top of my head, threading the end through a section of the bun to secure it. With the heavy mass off my neck, I felt better.
I waved to regulars and exchanged alohas, in a great mood and already eager for the end of my shift. Melanie rushed in behind me. Her harried expression let me know that her mood didn’t match mine. When she dumped her purse in the back and sidled up next to me, her scowl turned into a sneer.
“Were you out with Charles again?” she practically growled.
We’d had that argument before. I wished Melanie had never overheard Ava’s comment about me dating an advisor. “No. I’m not dating him.”
Jealousy came off her in waves.
“And you shouldn’t be, either. He’s married.”
A customer entered, and she got in one last shot. “I’m the one that told you about his class. If I had known what a slut you were, I never would have.”
Holy crap. My mouth hung open. She’d never been that vicious before. And to be honest, I had no idea if Charles had been dating both of us at the same time, but from how she was lashing out, I suspected he might have been.
Wait a minute. She hadn’t seemed surprised about Charles still being married. Had she known?
Jeffrey, our manager, came out from the back office and did some inventory, eliminating the chance for Melanie to attack me again. I kept busy and stayed out of her way. For the most part, she and I got along. But after that one comment from Ava about my advisor, she’d guessed who I was dating, and I became her enemy. At least Jeffrey and Chloe were nice. Chloe and I had grabbed lunch or a movie now and then. I had no hopes of repairing my friendship with Melanie.
Before Jeffrey headed to the back room again, I asked if he had a few minutes to talk. Melanie shot daggers at me, probably because she thought I would tell on her, but I wasn’t going to. It wasn’t worth it, and I could fight my own battles when it came to her.
I followed Jeffrey into the back room that served as both office and stockroom. The shelves were packed with coffee beans and the mixes that didn’t require refrigeration. Jeffrey maneuvered his lanky frame into his desk chair and waited for me to get to the point.
My bag was in one of the cubbies set aside for employees. I withdrew my resignation letter and handed it to him. I’d sent an email that morning but knew he wouldn’t get to those until the afternoon.
“I’m giving my two-weeks’ notice. And I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Working here has been a lot of fun.”
He placed the paper on the corner of his desk. “I wish you weren’t going, but I understand. As for the two weeks”—he waved to a stack of applications—“that’s totally up to you. I know you’re nearing the end of grad school, and it’s a hectic time. I can fill your spot whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks.” I would miss how easygoing he was. “I think I’ll take you up on that.” I would keep my last scheduled shifts. I promised to stay in touch, and I would. He and Chloe were good friends.
My four-hour shift flew by, and before I knew it, I was stepping outside and fiddling with my camera to get the nature pictures I wanted to incorporate into my project. It was the last theme I would add. It had to be, as I needed to turn the collection in before the weekend.
It was the perfect day for what I had planned. The rain had come while I was inside, and while a majority of the clouds remained, the downpour had slowed to a light mist. Even that was clearing, and I knew I could find some beautiful shots.
The university wasn’t far, and I headed that way. There were several stunning gardens that I wanted to take a few close-ups of, and I could get home easily from there.
Not only did I plan to take pictures of the sweet, fragrant plumeria blossoms there, but I had also asked Chloe to pose for me with a velvety flower over an ear. If worn on the right, the wearer indicated she was single. I toyed with the idea of having Jeffrey switch the flower on Chloe—it would be a romantic shot and could get her to see him as more than her boss. He was on the shyer side, though, and I doubted he would ask her out unless she gave him some sort of sign.
Later, I would cast a plumeria lei in the water and photograph it before dusk. I wanted to freeze the beauty of the flowers with an atmosphere of uncertainty. Long ago, when ships sailed, a lei was set adrift in the water. If it returned to shore, the vessel would too. If not, all those lives would be lost in the ocean.
Plumeria petals tossed into the water were meant to honor the fallen. The flower was chock-full of meaning, the perfect vehicle for the final series in my graduation project. Once the editing was done, the collection would be too. I couldn’t wait to turn it in. Not only that, but the galleries would also love them. I planned to use all the pictures to seek representation at a high-end New York gallery, expanding my exposure and reach.
The sound of a car door pierced my consciousness but didn’t fully yank me from the trancelike state I was in while snapping pictures of the flowers. I blinked as a shadow fell across the lens, and I lowered my camera. Pinpricks of alarm shot from my hands, up my arms, and into my head. The tight and uncomfortable sensation from the loss of concentration amplified the shock and fright I felt when I saw Charles standing before me.
I took an involuntary step back. My camera slipped from my fingers. The strap at my neck pulled taut from the weight of the camera hanging from it. I took another step to the side. He mirrored my move. We played a game of it while I tried to put distance between us, but he wouldn’t let me.
His thick hair was mussed, as if he’d run his finge
rs through it. Lines bracketed his eyes and mouth. It looked as if he’d lost sleep. A second passed, then another. I could acknowledge how charming and handsome he was and why it had been so easy to fall for him. But I couldn’t let those things or how things had been when they were good sway me. He was a classic example of my past, of what I had to fight against. My dad had been charming too. I wouldn’t fall into the same pattern as Mom had. The end result would cost more than I was willing to pay.
“Riley, please.” Charles extended his hand, a mix of frustration and sadness clouding his eyes. “I miss you. This whole thing has been a big mistake. Give me a chance to explain.”
Explain what? His wife? Maybe the break-ins? What explanation could he possibly give to make me forgive him? With a sharp shake of my head, I forced my response between clenched teeth. “There is no explaining away a wife.”
Anger chased the contrite expression from his features. My fingers curled around the phone in my pocket. I yanked it out and spared a second to look at the screen. With a few taps, I had the drafted email to the board visible. My thumb hovered over the send button, and I turned it toward him so he could see.
“Leave me alone, or I’ll hit send.”
His eyes darkened with anger when I issued my threat, my promise to impact his career if he continued to harass me.
He took a step back. “I’ve altered my life so that we could be together and made sacrifices you have no idea about.” As he pivoted to retrace his steps, he issued a final promise. “This isn’t over, Riley.”
My entire body was rigid. It was over for me, and I suspected the same for him. That last comment had to be to save face—I couldn’t see him risking his career. It took several seconds until I was able to move my thumb away from the send button and leave for home.
17
Riley