Picture This
by
Cate Masters
PUBLISHED BY:
Cate Masters on Smashwords
Picture This
Copyright © 2011 by Cate Masters
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
View more books by Cate Masters at
http://catemasters.blogspot.com
or select online book retailers.
For Gary, always.
Special thanks to Eternal Press, which first published this ebook.
Picture This was a 2011 EPIC finalist.
Previous reviews:
The Romance Studio
http://theromancestudio.com/reviews/reviews/picturethismasters.htm
The author grabs you from the first chapter and takes you on a great ride. This story was easy to get into and hard to put down. The characters are easy to relate to and you quickly become involved in their story.
Book Wenches
http://www.bookwenches.com/august09reviews.htm
Cate Master’s novella Picture This is a story about misunderstandings and second chances. Although a light and quick read, it is well-written enough to grab a reader’s interest and hold on to it as we watch the main character scramble to hold herself together in the face of what feels to her like emotional adversity.
I found myself drawn into the story and also charmed by both the story’s touches of humor and its colorful and personable characters. In Sydney and Ben, Ms. Masters has given us a hero and heroine who feel very “real” and quite human. Overall, I quite enjoyed reading Picture This. The story is fun, and the main characters are well matched and sweet together. It mixes a little humor and romance together into a snappy and readable package that will leave the reader with a smile as well as a renewed belief in happily ever after.
Romance Book Scene – 5 hearts
http://romancebookscene.blogspot.com/2010/07/romance-book-review-picture-this.html
As a journalist by profession, I enjoyed the realism with the way Cate Masters portrayed Sydney's job. Sydney character shows some real feelings about the stories she writes, just like a real journalist would. All and all the book is nicely done with a sweet romance, without the heavy setting of erotic scenes and frankly this book didn't need them.
Read more reviews, view the trailer and more at http://catemasters.blogspot.com/2007/12/picture-this-contemporary-romantic.html
* * * * *
Chapter One
The Monday morning sun blazed through Sydney’s windshield, alighting the grime as she drove down Market Street. The bus in the parallel lane gave her a gauge to follow as she pressed the windshield wash button. The wipers cleared a striped arc barely wide enough to see through, but enough to notice brake lights ahead. When she braked a little too hard, the driver behind laid on his horn.
“All right, already!” She pressed the washer button again and her wiper scraped horribly across the glass.
“No! What the…” The rubber strip flopped like a worm from one end. “This is a great start to my week. Just great.”
As she pulled into the lot beside the Harrisburg News, her cell rang. Her bumper tapped the SUV in the spot ahead as she killed the engine.
“Yes – Sydney here.” She struggled to free her handbag from the emergency brake, then caught the strap in the car door when she shut it. “Damn!”
“Sydney?” Claudia’s voice came through like an oasis of calm.
“Oh, thank God. A friendly voice.” She managed to clear her car, and stepped in the path of an incoming car.
Jon, another reporter, slammed on his brakes, held up his hands. She waved and mouthed ’sorry.’ He mimed yapping on a cell phone. She scooted out of his way.
“What’s wrong?” Claudia asked.
“Just one of those mornings.” Sydney crossed the short span to the back door. “Following, of course, one of those weekends.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh as she crossed the threshold. The short hallway thrust her into the hubbub of the newsroom.
“Oh.” Claudia’s flat tone came through crisp and clear.
“Well, that sounded foreboding.” Sydney toodled her fingers at Louann, mouthed ’lunch?’ and signaled thumbs up after Louann nodded. “Why are you calling anyway?” She set her handbag on her desktop and switched on her computer. “I’m here; I’ll see you in a few minutes at the staff meeting.”
“I need to see you before the meeting. Can you come into my office?”
“But I was going to call the mayor’s office to set up an interview – so when Dave sanctimoniously assigns me to the mayor’s re-election campaign, I can piously say, ‘already on it!’” With a few clicks, she retrieved her email. Only four unread; less than usual after a weekend. Maybe the awful beginning to the day would fizzle out.
“Please, Sydney. It’s important.”
Claudia’s serious tone was beginning to worry her.
“All right.” She traversed the maze of newsroom desks – not exactly cubicles because their low dividers allowed every reporter and editor to make eye contact without standing. “If you insist, I’ll delay my work day. Seems to be par for the course today anyway.”
At Claudia’s doorway, she snapped her cell phone shut. “Missed me that much, huh? Couldn’t wait another minute?”
Her forced joke met little response from her editor.
“Come in. And shut the door.” The sun streaming through the window behind Claudia’s desk glinted off her dark hair. At forty-four, she was still model-thin and beautiful, one of the few women Sydney knew who embraced her age without protest or complaint.
“Ooh, one of those meetings.” Sydney closed the door and sat in the chair in front of the desk. “Must be good dirt, so dish. I need something juicy after the weekend I had.”
“Oh right. Your date.” Whatever hope Claudia might have held faded in an instant. “No good, huh?”
“Another one-nighter.” Sydney wrinkled her nose. “He talked of nothing but work. And his ex. And how hard he has to work to support his ex. By the end of the night, I empathized with the ex.” Maybe she could start a club of exes, a support group of sorts.
Claudia clucked her tongue. “That bad? I’ll buy you a margarita tomorrow night at happy hour.”
“Bribery will get you everywhere. I assume that’s why you called me in here, right? To bribe me with promises of margaritas?”
Her editor leaned forward, studying her. “Yes.”
Uh oh. Sydney didn’t like the look in her eye. Like she was about to fire her. “What’s going on?”
Claudia took off her reading glasses, always a precursor to a delicate conversation. Never a good sign. “Do you remember Ben Taylor?”
Sydney released the breath she held. “Is that a trick question? We only have a conversation about him once a week or so.”
She hadn’t seen him in almost a year, a night that began with excitement and promise, continued blissfully for hours, and ended like a train wreck, with Ben dragged from the wreckage by another woman. Possibly his fiancée. Sydney could never quite learn the true story, but that fateful night stood out in her memory as a marker. The beginning of the end. After that, all her dates ended on a sour note. Ben Taylor had opened the flood gates of Bad Date Hell. From those gates streamed a never ending lineup of ill-suited matches, men who she should never have wasted her time on
, but who each looked so tempting, she couldn’t resist trying. That was the thing about Hell, though, wasn’t it? People ended up there because the sin always seemed like a good idea at the time.
Claudia pursed her lips. “Yes, I know. The thing is… how do I put this?”
Sydney tensed. Claudia wasn’t one to dance around a topic. Her style was more blunt – the resulting blunt force trauma notwithstanding. Something must be wrong. Terribly wrong.
She blanched. “Is he… “ Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t finish. Ben must be dead. Why else would her editor – her friend, her confidant, her mentor – be looking at her with such pity?
“He’s here.” Claudia watched her as if ready to catch her woozy body.
Those two short words snapped Sydney to attention. “Here?” Questions flew through her head. She could have peppered Claudia with questions shot at Uzi speed, but shock severed the link from brain to tongue.
“I wanted to catch you before the meeting because he’ll be there.”
Sydney was struck dumb, though she’d been much dumber the night she’d first met him. “There?” She’d lost the capacity to construct full sentences, or fully absorb information. It simply couldn’t be.
“Yes, at the staff meeting.”
“Why?” Sydney’s breaths came too quickly. Here. She’d see him again. Even worse, he’d see her. Damn! And she’d worn her old black suit that made her look like a librarian. And her hair, oh, yikes, her hair had been impossible this morning. She’d finally pulled it into a scrunchy and written it off as a failure.
Claudia spoke slowly. “He’s our new photographer. Taking Ted Donecker’s place.”
Sydney couldn’t inhale. Her jaw seemed to have locked in place. She tried to ask, “What?” but emitted a choking noise instead.
“Breathe, honey.” Claudia fanned at her with a notepad.
Her journalism training kicked in. “When? How? Why?” The last came out at a pitch normally heard in the aviary at the zoo. Or maybe the monkey house.
Claudia leaned back in her chair. “He left Philadelphia. We couldn’t pass him up. He’s a great photographer. And you’re both professionals. I know you’ll work well together.”
Her editor’s confidence didn’t buoy Sydney’s spirits. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve been sitting around for a year pining for him. You’re dating. You had a date this weekend, right?”
All her shock whooshed out in a huff. “Don’t remind me.” With a whimper, she asked, “What am I going to do?”
Claudia cocked her head. “Your job, like always.”
“What’s my job again?” Her brains felt as if they’d scrambled, the long loops of gray matter unfurling into a lazy, disconnected strand.
Claudia sat straight with a smile. “You’re an award-winning journalist. A consummate professional.”
“Right. Journalist. Professional.” She had to pull herself together.
“The meeting’s about to start.” Claudia stood, holding her notepad and pen.
“Okay. I’ll be fine.” Her legs wobbled as she rose.
Her editor rounded her desk and opened the door. “I know you’ll make us proud, like always.”
The newsroom buzzed with voices, movement. Sydney had the distinct feeling she was being thrown to the wolves. Currently, however, she couldn’t locate the particular wolf she had in mind. She scanned the bodies at desks, chatting in pairs, reading copy while walking with long strides. No Ben.
“Right.” She smoothed her jacket. You can do this. You’ve faced worse. “Let’s go.”
****
The buzz of conversations of the other Harrisburg News reporters filled the conference room as Sydney entered. She tried to block the mounting panic. Another quick scan revealed no sign of him. Maybe he’d decided against working here. Maybe after taking the job, he realized Sydney worked there, and the situation would be too awkward.
She couldn’t agree more.
She settled into her seat and massaged her throbbing temple. As if she needed a headache, on top of everything else.
Jon plopped into the chair beside her. “In a hurry this morning? I nearly ran you over.”
“Sorry about that. Too much going on at once.” The understatement of the year.
He chuckled. “Already? You’re in for a rough week.”
She forced a smile. Tell me something I don’t know. If only it were one week…
He sipped from the cardboard cup and winced. “They should serve better coffee at these meetings.”
“And start on time.” Her watch read ten past nine. A pile of work awaited her, in addition to whatever new assignments might come from this meeting. An hour of torture, if Ben showed up.
“That would require an editor to be prompt for once.” He nodded at another reporter as he walked in. “What’s going on out in the hall? Seems to be a pre-meeting.”
Not the first of the day. Sydney strained to see who.
Three or four suited bodies showed through the blinds. She recognized Claudia’s pinstriped jacket, but couldn’t discern the others.
She dug through her handbag. “I need some aspirin. My head’s splitting.”
Three more reporters walked in. Claudia followed, and held Sydney’s gaze a beat longer than normal. A look that said ‘get ready.’
Sydney tensed. She rummaged through her handbag, popped one aspirin, and was downing the second when her editor put a reassuring hand on Sydney’s shoulder on the way past.
Claudia took an empty seat at the center of the table and folded her hands atop it. She stretched a finger toward the doorway and tilted her head.
Sydney turned and her heart froze in her chest. Oh, yes. Ben Taylor was here all right.
The center of a small crowd, he came into view. Smiling, saying quick hellos and shaking hands, his brown eyes warm and intelligent. His dark hair curled around his denim shirt collar. Just the length she liked. Long enough to lose her fingers in, but too short for a New Age pony tail. He was a little leaner than she remembered, yet more muscular. Either he’d begun using very heavy photography equipment, or he’d been working out.
Commotion surrounded him everywhere he went, apparently. Like a rock star. And he looked the part. Dammit.
Sydney’s heart clenched in self-defense. Those few hours they’d shared together had been seared into her memory like a branding iron, and his mark on her still burned hot.
He sat across from her, drummed his fingers on the table top and glanced around the room until his gaze met hers. He flashed a lightning smile, gone as quickly as it appeared, but leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
Not a hint of recognition in his face.
Nausea washed over her. She glanced at Claudia, who shrugged.
Right. No big deal. When she looked up again, Ben looked from her to Claudia with a perplexed expression. Before his eyes could search hers for an answer, she scrunched down in her seat. She pulled her notepad closer and doodled, hoping to appear as if she were intent on making notes.
Jon’s breath smelled of stale coffee. “You know the new photographer?”
“No.” Sydney’s response came out too abruptly. ”I mean, I met him once. Briefly. But I don’t know him know him.” She added, “If you know what I mean” to make a joke of it. A lame joke.
Jon stared, perplexed. He opened his mouth, and then closed it.
Her clarification lapsed into babbling. “I know him by reputation. Used to be with the Daily News in Philly. Won loads of awards.”
“Okay. I get it.” Jon turned and said something to the person who sat on his right.
She glanced across the table. Ben pivoted his chair and spoke to Ray, another sports reporter. Louann leaned across Ray, her boisterous voice cutting above the rest as she welcomed Ben.
Traitor. Louann knew the backstory. Well, the generic version.
Ben said thanks and leaned back. He glanced over at Sydney, still watching.
Warmth crept up her neck, and she sat up
with a jolt. Her elbow bumped her notebook, sending it to the floor.
Jon bent to pick it up. “Rough night?”
“And morning, apparently.” She hoped the aspirin would kick in soon. And the meeting – if it didn’t begin, it couldn’t end.
In mid-sentence, Dave strode into the conference room. The executive editor threw down his notepad and sat. “All right, people. Let’s make this quick.” A fedora with a Press tag inserted would have completed the stereotype.
“We have a big week coming up,” he said. “Mayor Reeves’ second term officially begins on the ninth. Sydney, you’ll cover the event, with the usual lead-in articles.”
She jotted some notes, things she’d already intended to do, but writing gave her an excuse to look busy: Call mayor for interview. Review goals for upcoming term, achievements of last term. This last, she considered scratching out. He hadn’t done half of what he’d promised.
Claudia peered over her reading glasses. “If you get an interview, bring Ben with you.”
Sydney pleaded with her eyes, begging her editor not to do this, but Claudia had turned her attention to the papers she held.
Dave chimed in, “Some of you have already met Ben Taylor, our new photojournalist. Sydney Welles and the rest of you, say hello to Ben.”
The moment of truth had arrived. She gazed into his chocolate eyes rimmed with full, dark lashes – expressive eyes, they now appeared innocent as a puppy’s. “Hi.”
He nodded once. “Nice to meet you.”
A chill went through her. Was he being sarcastic? Or did he truly not remember?
Her head pounded. “I think I’m going to throw up,” she muttered to Jon.
Dave looked at her over his glasses and cleared his throat. “Moving along.” He droned on as he handed out other assignments for the week.
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