Seeing Clearly

by Casey McMillin

  We all stood around it staring as if we expected the sheet to come off by itself at any moment. I reached out and grabbed the bottom edge of the sheet so I could lift it and peek underneath.

  "Excuse me ma'am, please don't touch that." The voice came from behind me, startling me. Embarrassed to have been called out, I quickly let the sheet fall from my hand. I looked around trying to figure out who had said it. A very stern, official looking, middle-aged woman was approaching us. She wore her hair in a tight bun and had on a business suit. I would not have been surprised to learn that the woman had a gun and a badge somewhere. "This one is strictly off limits. Mr. Craig has retired it completely. You may not view it."

  "I'm sorry, it's just that someone told me I was in the picture, so I was curious." I said, feeling a bit like a kindergartner trying to excuse my behavior. The embarrassment I felt at the way I'd been cowering to this lady made me feel like I needed to add to that statement, "And, don't you think it's a little dramatic to cover it like this and to use the word retire? Come on, what's the harm in me taking a little peek?"

  "I'm sorry. I've been given strict instructions to guard this photograph."

  "Guard the photograph?" I asked, incredulous. "You're acting like it's a threat to national security or something."

  "My redhead!" Ian's heavily accented voice came from behind us, serving to relieve some of the tension that had begun to develop between the photo Nazi and myself. I turned toward Ian with relief in my expression as if he would be able to help me talk some sense into the lady. "Oh you should have seen this beautiful photograph," he said as he placed air kisses on my cheeks. "You were absolutely the star of the show. Amazing."

  "We were just trying to take a look at it," Collin said. He was trying to take a casual approach since he could see I was already on edge.

  Ian looked at our group with genuine regret in his eyes. "I am so sorry. But all of the prints have been claimed, and the buyer has purchased all rights to the image. This includes public viewing. This photograph is off limits now." We all stared at Ian with confused faces. Is it even possible to buy public viewing privileges on a photograph? Anything is possible I guess, but who would want to do that?

  "Am I in the picture?" I asked Ian. I was hoping to get at least that much information from him.

  "Oh yes my dear, you are. It was one of the most exquisite photographs I've ever taken." His expression was tinged with regret as if he were a little disappointed it had to be covered up.

  I try to take advantage of that regret by saying, "I'm sure the people who bought the prints won't be upset if you show it to me. I am in the picture, after all.

  "The prints have all been purchased by one man. He says he just wants this one, though. I told him that was a lot of money for one print. He told me he was buying the rest of them just to make sure he had the only copy. He even paid an additional amount to obtain the exclusive rights to the photograph. I was just about to take it off the wall completely."

  This news was all a little too confusing and dramatic for me. I tried to do the math to figure out the cost of such a thing. Who in the mother-scratching world would pay more than a hundred grand for one photograph? I was irritated and confused. It would probably not have been a big deal if I didn't know I was in the photograph but I did know, and I was so curious I could hardly stand it.

  "Who bought the picture?" I asked.

  "I did."

  I turned, and was face to face with Joel Perrin, confidence and masculinity emanating from him like he was the only man in the room. He was staring at me with intensity in his eyes, daring me to object to his words.

  "Good!" I said, smiling. "Then there will be no problem with me—" I had the bottom of the sheet in my hand and was pulling it up to reveal the photograph underneath when Joel reached a hand out to stop me. He bowed his head to whisper in my ear and even though his words were soft I was pretty sure the people closest to us could hear him.

  "Gretchen, I'll let you see it, but not here. Don't do that."

  God Almighty, how mysterious could one photograph get? At this point, I would have done just about anything to catch a glimpse of what was under that sheet."

  I whispered back as calmly as I could but I was sure the frustration I was feeling came through in my tone.

  "Okay Joel, as I'm sure you can imagine, I'm extremely curious to see what's under here. I'm anxious to see what all the fuss is about. How about I follow you wherever you're going with this thing and I'll take a look at it."

  I shot a flabbergasted look to all the people who I'd come in with as I headed off with Joel, Ian and the two goons who were transporting the photo.

  They propped the frame, still covered, against the wall in one of the back offices. Everyone left the room except for Joel and myself. This had been built up entirely too much. I gave Joel a wary glance before I turned my attention to pulling the sheet from the frame.

  I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. How had Ian managed to capture this moment? It was the most beautiful photograph I'd ever seen and not because I was in it. The passion behind the kiss itself was so undeniable it radiated off the photograph. My green dress against his black suit with the background of colorful glass and mirror was a visual feast, from which I could not tear my gaze. My heart ached to be back in that moment. I ached to be in his arms.

  I had to tell myself to keep it together. Had to remind myself that just after this picture was taken I slapped him across the face. Joel Perrin and I would never be together because he thought I was beneath him. That thought made me suddenly very thankful that he got this photograph off the gallery floor.

  I turned to him with maybe a little too much indifference and said, "It's a good picture, but I'm glad you bought them all. Thanks for doing that." I started to walk around him, intending to leave the room. He grabbed me by the shoulder to stop me.

  "Do you want one of the prints?" he asked.

  "No," was all I said.

  Liar. Liar. Liar.

  "Gretchen—"

  But I was already walking away. I had to get away from him. He smelled like the woods and his hair was hanging loose like it had been that night in his guesthouse. I was literally vibrating with tension as I walked out of the office and back into the crowded art gallery. He caught me by the arm and spun me around before I was able to make it back into the gallery.

  "What?" I asked, irritated.

  "What's up with you?" he shot back, even more irritated than me. "I thought I did something good by getting the picture off the wall. Or is this about what happened between us the last time we saw each other?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I couldn't stop myself from denying it even though it made me feel like a twelve year old. "It's not about anything, Joel. It's just embarrassing that there's a whole audience out there waiting to know what that was." I pointed to the office we'd just come from, indicating the photograph.

  "Would you rather them see it? Because I can have it hung back in its spot."

  "No. Obviously, no." I considered for a second before I spoke again. "Ian had no way of knowing we weren't together, so it's not his fault." I looked up at him with an impassive stare. "Don't lie though, Joel. You would not have it hung up, even if I asked you to."

  "Yes I would Gretchen. I'm not ashamed of kissing you. I want to do it again. If you'd let me, I'd take you out there so our audience can see a reenactment live and in person." He looked at me with such intensity. I knew he meant what he said.

  "You know what? I don't think you realize you're doing it, but sometimes you're a real asshole to me." He gave me an injured look, but I just kept right on talking. "You pull me in, making me think you like me a lot, then the second I get too close, you make it clear that I'm not good enough for you."

  "I don't see how me having a problem with you getting it on with guys at work is unreasonable. In fact, if you think that's bad, wait till you hear this… I'm not even with you, and I still have a problem with your occ
upation. I'd love nothing more than for you to call that place and tell them you're not coming back."

  "That place," I said, mimicking his distain. "I have a good job, Joel. I'm proud to say I work there. You're already rich, hot, smart, and whatever else… do you really need more power in a relationship? Do you need somebody who has no personal goals? Is that what does it for you?"

  "No, of course not. I love that you're good at something and passionate about it. You think I'm insecure because I don’t want my girlfriend making out with other guys for a living? It's not about insecurity Gretchen, I just won't have it. There's no way I'd be able to sit back and watch you with another guy. Hell, I can't even watch it now."

  His little speech stunned and confused me. I was all ready to retort with some comeback, but as I listened to him, all of my anger melted away somehow. I felt a series of emotions too fast and fleeting to decipher them all, but somewhere in there was something close to happiness. I think I was actually happy he was so possessive of me. What's wrong with me? I thought.

  "I don't know what to tell you, Joel. It seems like we're at an impasse here."

  "I don't want it to be like this," he said. "You can't just hate me. We're going to have to see each other. We have to have a plan."

  "A plan? My plan is to a-void you as much as possible until I can look at you without imagining myself in your arms, or what your lips taste like."

  "God Gretchen, don’t' fucking say things like that. You drive me insane." He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me toward him with all the authority of a man who tells his woman what kind of job she can or can't have. He kissed me harder than I'd ever been kissed in my life.

  "That's exactly what the picture looked like." Joel and I broke the kiss and regarded the two girls standing at the entrance to the hallway. Bailey turned to Rachel then wiggled a finger toward Joel and me. "She had on a dress, and there were a bunch of flowers everywhere, but other than that, what you just saw was exactly what the photograph looked like."

  Chapter 10

  Joel

  Gretchen buried her head in my chest to escape the scrutiny of her friends. "I knew it," was all Rachel said. She was smiling as she turned on her heels, pulling Bailey away with her to give us some privacy. I ran my hands up Gretchen's back, loving the feel of the curves of her body.

  "We can't do this, Joel." She looked regretful, which didn't make me feel any better.

  "Just hang out with me tonight," I said. I had no plan of action… but holding her felt too right. I just couldn't stand the thought of losing physical contact with her right now.

  "What do you mean hang out?" she asked. It was easy to see that she was at least tempted by the idea. That made me smile.

  "I have no idea what I mean." Then, figuring the truth was better than a lie, I said, "I just like being next to you, and I don't think I'm too keen on being anywhere else right now."

  "Oh, Joel."

  "Is that a yes?"

  "Yes. But, what are we going to tell everyone?"

  "You're too worried about what other people think. We don't have to tell them anything. Most of them have already figured out we like each other anyway." I drew her into an embrace. She tensed at first, but then she gave in. After only a few seconds, she was holding me as tightly as I was holding her. I drew back, looking down at her beautiful face. "You okay?" I asked.

  "Fine," she said. She gave me a little smile to reinforce her answer.

  "What do you want to do? We can get out of here if you want," I offered.

  "I was supposed to go to the club with Cali and Caleb. You could come with us, if you want."

  "Are those two together? Cali and Caleb?"

  "No. Just friends."

  "He doesn't think he's here with you, does he? Because I would have to—"

  "Joel, he's just my friend. You can't go around threatening every guy I talk to. Besides, it shouldn't matter because we're not together, remember?"

  "How could I forget? You remind me every ten seconds."

  ****

  Rachel must have warned everyone not to make a big deal about our reappearance, because no one said a word when Gretchen and I came back into the gallery. I would have been content for the two of us to stay together, but she saw someone she knew and got lost in the crowd.

  After an hour or so of mingling around the gallery, we all met up again to plan the rest of our evening, Gretchen was okay with being near me, but never got close enough for me to touch her. I found myself wanting to be near her so badly I almost shook with frustration. I knew she was feeling the same thing because she was constantly stealing glances at me to make sure I was still looking at her.

  I was starting to think Rachel had a point. Why the hell were we torturing ourselves like this? I reminded myself that she and her "friend" standing next to her would probably be filming a sex scene together next week. I had to take a deep breath to calm my nerves at the thought of that.

  "You okay, Joel?" Rachel was staring up at me with a concerned expression.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I said, shaking my head a little to clear it. "Did you guys figure out where we're going?"

  "Yeah, we're gonna try The Yard, even though we may not get in. Bailey and her boyfriend are coming, Zack, and a few others, I think. Anyway, there'll be about ten of us, so we're all just driving separate. We'll meet you there. Do you know where it is?"

  "Yeah, I've been there before."

  "Really? Do you know anyone there? I've heard it's really hard to get in. We were hoping that one of the bouncers happens to be a Paradise Island or a swim fan, it's unlikely, but there's a chance."

  "I find that putting a few hundred dollars in someone's hand will earn their friendship on the spot."

  "Really? You can pay those guys?" Rachel asked, astonished. I almost laughed, but I felt like that might hurt her feelings. I forgot how young she was sometimes.

  "Yeah," I said, "everybody likes a payday."

  ****

  The pretty boy from Paradise Island had to stop and get something on his way, and the bouncer at The Yard was not a swim fan, so we had to either leave in search of the new club or cough up some cash. There was a line around the block, so it took four hundred to cover the people in our group.

  Everyone offered to chip in, but I had a pocket full of cash that I'd had planned on buying a couple of photos with tonight. I ended up having to write Ian a check since I spent way more than a few thousand dollars.

  "Thanks for paying our way, High Roller," Gretchen said, falling into step with me as we made our way through the crowded entrance to the club. "I heard about your deal with the AOA and your new plant. Congratulations."

  "Thanks. It feels good to have that contract signed." By the end of my statement I was yelling to compensate for the booming music that was playing in the club.

  She stood on her toes to yell in my ear. "It's loud," she said, smiling at her obvious statement.

  "I know, I think my ears may be bleeding." I turned to the side and pointed into my ear as if I were serious.

  She took my face in her hands. The feel of her tiny cold hands on my jaw made my heart beat fast. She looked back and forth at my ears doing a thorough fake-inspection for any blood loss. I didn't want her to let go of my face, but she did.

  "No, you're good," she said.

  "I think I need you to check again," I said. Gretchen gave me a wary look, but went ahead and returned her hands to their place on my jaw. She looked at one ear, and as she went to swivel my head to look at the other, I bent and kissed her on the mouth. Much to my satisfaction, her breath hitched when my lips touched hers. I smiled and placed another gentle kiss directly on her lips.

  "Okay lovers, lets hit the dance floor," Bailey said. Bailey's boyfriend was standing there, along with Colin and Rachel. Everyone else was already standing at the bar, waiting for one of the bartenders to pay them some attention.

  "Do you want to get a drink first?" I asked.

  "No, I'm okay," she said. My
hand was at the back of her waist. She spun around to face me, and said, "I'd like to dance, though." I took her by the hand and we started off toward the dance floor.

  It was packed in the club, but it wasn't nearly packed enough to account for how close this girl was to me. We danced as one unit, our movements in time with each other and the rap music that pulsed in the air around us. It was an attack on my senses. The music, the lights, the pulsing energy of the crowd, and most of all, the beautiful girl I held in my arms.

  Her body moved to the music in a way that made me wish more than anything it were just the two of us on this dance floor. I grabbed her by the ass and pulled her against me so she could feel exactly what I wanted to do. She responded by grinding her hips against me. The feel of her moving against me like that was enough to make me crazy with lust. I lowered my head to kiss her and she returned the kiss, grabbing me by the back of my head and drawing me to her, so we could taste more of each other.

  Gretchen and I danced for three more songs before she said, "I need to go get some fresh air." There was a lot of body heat going on, and the music was deafening, so I could totally understand wanting some fresh air.

  "We can step out back," I said, already starting to walk off of the dance floor. She pulled my arm to get my attention then she put her mouth close to my ear. She still had to yell, but she got close enough so I could hear everything she was saying.

  "I need to be alone," she said. I pulled back so I could stare down at her face. I was trying to gauge what would make her say something like that, but her expression was unreadable.

  "What's the matter?" I asked, again trying to aim my words toward her ear.

  She stood on her toes to say, "I'm fine, I just don't feel very good, and I want to be alone."

  "Well, you need to tell me what the problem is. Is it me? Are you just trying to get away from me? Because if it's just that you don't feel good, I want to help you."