© 2014 Dawn Pendleton
http://www.dawnpendleton.com
Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without express written permission from the author/publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Wild Dreams
Dawn Pendleton
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
More from Dawn
About the Author
One
Dallas
I always knew what I wanted to do with my life. At the age of sixteen, my dad bought me my very first DSLR camera, complete with three different lenses, a flash attachment, and what was then a huge SD card. I read the instruction manual several times, watched YouTube videos for weeks and then signed up for a summer photography class to learn everything I possibly could about photography. I never looked back, either.
Photography had always been important to me, always been my passion. It’s the one thing in my life that has managed to grab my attention and hold me captive. No woman has ever compared to my desire to take photos. I moved in with my dad during high school, getting my degree and then enrolling in the University of San Diego. Three and a half years later, I received my degree in visual arts with an emphasis on photography. Within six weeks, my dad got me a job as a freelance photographer with a well-known magazine and the rest is history. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life.
Now, of course, I worked for several companies, picking and choosing my assignments as I wished. I was a sought after photographer and I liked that I never had to go looking for a job; they just sort of fell into my lap. I was well-off, but I liked to think I didn’t show it off too much.
I was gone for six full weeks and got home the day before yesterday. Stone, my roommate, had the apartment all cleaned up and reported that there weren’t any problems while I was gone. I wasn’t surprised. Stone was a good guy, someone I trusted. And I didn’t trust people often.
The good news was, I would be home for a whole month. Four weeks of no traveling, no dealing with interns who would do anything to get good remarks on their references. As much as I enjoyed participating in extracurricular activities with recent college grads, I was sick of it, too. I liked sleeping with my interns, sure, but I would be thirty in less than three years. I was ready for something more meaningful.
My reputation was well-known; college girls knew about me and exactly how to get on my good side. I always demanded a lot of them, both on the job and off. It probably wasn’t the right thing to do, sleeping around with my interns, but the company overlooked it, especially since I was actually teaching them quite a bit about the field. Photography wasn’t an easy profession. People all over the world bought quality cameras and called themselves photographers, but it didn’t mean anything when they had no official schooling or training.
Over the last three years, I had more than a hundred interns, male and female. I never showed preferential treatment to the ladies I slept with, either. If anything, I was harder on them. They got the added perks of being around me when we weren’t on a shoot, which meant they heard all the little tips and tidbits I had to give. If they weren’t serious about their careers, I kicked them to the curb. It happened several times.
There was a reason I was sought after by a ton of companies, a reason I was considered one of the top photographers in the country. It wasn’t a conceited thing; I knew my own skills, what I could handle and what I couldn’t. I never took a job I didn’t think I’d be able to deliver for. There was nothing worse than doing a shoot, going home, and then discovering that your images were crap. Not to mention that’s how people lost money and respect.
It was nice to get a break. A month off from girls trying to get in my pants and actually getting back to loving where I lived. Nashville was the perfect place for me. I loved country music. The nightlife, when I got to spend time at home, was amazing. I looked forward to just relaxing.
I got two phone calls over the course of an hour. The first was from Ember.
“Hey, Dallas,” she greeted me, her voice more cheery than usual. Ember was the younger sister of my own half-sister, Rainey, so we weren’t technically blood relatives. Since Rainey’s death, I’d been thinking of Ember as a sister as well, always checking up on her and hoping if she ever needed anything, she would come to me.
“What’s up, kid?” I asked. I hadn’t heard from her in weeks.
“I need a favor,” she started.
I smiled. “Anything you need.”
“I’m really struggling here. I need to get away for a few weeks. I’m on summer vacation from college and I was thinking it would be nice to spend some time in Nashville…”
I laughed. “You’re always welcome here, Ember. I travel a lot, but I’ll be home for the next month or so.”
“That’s so awesome! I really just need a break from my mom,” she admitted. “Oh, I can’t wait. I’ve got to book my flight and –”
“Ember!” I almost had to yell to get her attention. “I’ll book your flight. I have a bunch of air miles, so it would be my pleasure to get you here. You just deal with your mom and we’ll call it even.” I knew Victoria would be pissed and I definitely didn’t want to handle her.
“Done. You are the best! Thank you so much, Dallas!” She was excited, her voice pitching higher with each word.
“Of course. You know I worry about you,” I admitted. She really was like a sister to me.
She paused. “Are you sure your roommate won’t mind?”
I had to laugh. “I’m sure it will be fine. Just don’t fall in love with him or anything. He’s looking for a contract in the music business, not a roll in the hay.”
“Fine by me. I just want to get away. I’m not looking for a guy,” she explained.
“Let me keep you on the phone while I book your ticket,” I said, pulling out my laptop. We chitchatted while I got logged in and then found a ticket. “The best price is for a flight tomorrow. Can you be ready that fast?”
“Absolutely. Just tell me what time and I’ll be at the airport,” she promised.
I listed off the times; there were two flights. One first thing in the morning and the other late in the day. She opted for the early flight.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” I said before we hung up.
Ember was a sweet girl. There was so much of Rainey in her, I imagined she was just as bright as our sister, just as stubborn, too, probably. I laughed to myself as I set my phone down. I took a shower, enjoying the steamy water as it cascaded down my back. I had a thing for hot showers. It probably had something to do with the fact that when I was on assignment in some poverty-stricken country, showers weren’t very common, let alone hot showers. Most days, we ended up in a river or creek somewhere at the end of the day to wash away our fi
lth. The desert was the worst.
I sighed, spending a few weeks with her was going to be difficult. She didn’t just look like Rainey, she had a lot of the same personality traits, too. Being around her was going to remind me of Rainey and the fact that she was dead and I’d done nothing to help her.
I knew for a while about my sister’s leukemia, long before her friends or boyfriend knew. I begged her several times to tell someone else, that she needed the support, but she claimed she was fine. And when she went into remission, I thought she would be fine, too. But things weren’t meant to play out that way. I sometimes wished I’d told her friends, or more importantly, Baker. He was the perfect guy for Rainey: the calm spirit to her wildness, the water to her fire. He completed her.
Rainey’s death was hard on everyone, but Baker got the shit end of the stick. He barely had any time with her, even though it was more time than the doctors predicted. He tried to enjoy the time, but I was one of very few people who knew how bitter he was. Around his friends, he tried to maintain his old self – the joker, the never serious guy, but I knew the truth. Baker was deep, much deeper than anyone gave him credit for. I often wondered if he would ever move on from Rainey.
I wasn’t exactly pushing him into a new relationship, but plenty of time had passed. He mourned with the rest of us and then some. He needed some happiness in his life. He deserved it. More importantly, Rainey would have wanted him to move on, to keep living. She was adamant while she was alive that the people around her enjoy their lives and not let a single moment pass them by.
Baker was stubborn, claiming he would never be unfaithful to the woman he loved. While I understood his dedication, I also knew he hadn’t met the right woman yet, either. When the time came, he would change his way of thinking and learn to love again.
A few minutes later, my phone rang again. I glanced at the caller id; it was Annie, the young woman who scheduled my travel.
“Hey, Annie,” I greeted her. She was a sweet girl just out of college, a spitfire at heart, and she had the balls to put up with me. I never made a move on her because she was actually a great person to work for me and I didn’t want to muck it up.
“I just got a call,” she said, her voice wavering just a bit.
“Oh? What’s the deal?”
She took a deep breath. “They want you in Africa. Tomorrow.”
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. It wasn’t something I wanted to hear, but I knew better than to blame Annie. “Alright. When is my flight?”
I heard her let out a breath she’d been holding. Then she went into full assistant mode. “You’ve got a ten-thirty flight tomorrow morning. I’ll email you your itinerary. If you print it out, you can call me back with any questions.”
“That would be perfect. Thanks, Annie,” I said, hanging up.
I didn’t want to go back to Africa. I didn’t want to travel for at least a week. My life had morphed into some sort of thing that wasn’t even what I really wanted anymore. To be honest, I didn’t mind the travel, but the way they assumed I had absolutely no life and would jump to do whatever the company wanted was annoying.
Sure, I didn’t have kids or even a steady woman in my life, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spend every waking moment on a plane to some exotic place. With Ember planning to visit, I wanted to stay and get her settled in, not leave the same day she got in.
Even as I thought about calling Annie back and telling her no, I knew I wouldn’t. For all my faults, I was a dedicated workaholic. I never said no. That meant I never got vacations, either, but at least my job somewhat fulfilled me.
I tossed my phone on my bed, wondering how in the hell I would explain to Ember about my sudden departure. Hopefully, she understood.
* * * * *
The airport was almost empty that early in the morning. There were only a few people meandering through and only two planes arrived so early. I talked to my roommate, Stone, about Ember and threatened his life that morning if he made a move on Ember, but at the same time, I wanted him to take care of her. She was still so young, so innocent in so many ways. I wanted him to watch out for her.
To her credit, Ember was understanding when I met her in the airport. She gave me a sad smile and told me to do what I needed to do. I was grateful for her acceptance of my job, but I wondered if she had some underlying reason for being somewhat happy I wouldn’t be there. She deserved to be out on her own a little, even if it scared the shit out of me.
I boarded the plane and wondered what the next assignment would hold for me.
Two
Nicole
After years of planning, I was finally going to meet him. Not only was Dallas Montgomery one of the top photographers in the world, but he was also a self-proclaimed badass and womanizer. Even though I couldn’t care less about his sexual escapades, I found myself more than a little nervous to meet him, given my history.
I was the girl everyone looked down on, the one who took one look at a damaged man and brought him under my wing, desperate to believe he would change under my supervision. I’d yet to have a successful conversion. Dallas’ playboy status made me all the more sure of my decision to intern with him. If he was my mentor, I could hardly hit on him, let alone sleep with him or try to fix his scandalous ways.
His reputation was hardly a secret. He fawned over all his new interns, who were mostly young women, and then dropped them as soon as the internship was over. He gave them all glowing remarks, which was helpful as they continued their careers, but I imagined he left a lot of broken hearts scattered across the roads he traveled.
I was stronger than those women, though. At least, that’s what I told myself. No matter how gorgeous he was, how sexy his abs were (and there were several blog posts across the internet dedicated to his six pack), I would not falter, would not let myself be deterred from my goals. I wanted to take beautiful pictures, wanted other people to fall in love with the stories my images portrayed. If I was honest, I wanted to become a photographer bigger than even Dallas himself. It was a wild dream, if ever there was one, but I had my eyes on the prize.
I talked with several of Dallas’s past interns, all of whom explained that they slept with him, learned from him, and then were tossed aside by him. All of them were happy for the experience, though, since they learned so much from him, as a photographer and a lover. It blew my mind how naïve they all were. A man like Dallas deserved to be left, to have someone do to him what he’d done to so many.
I boarded the plane to Africa with butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t get out of my little Podunk town often, let alone flying across the ocean. I was nervous and excited, giggly but petrified. As the plane ascended, I considered taking a nap, but decided instead to order a tall drink, although the pretty stewardess informed me that drinks were only available in one size, which was extra-small. I down the shot glass-sized mixed drink and requested another, forcing myself not to pay attention to the sudden jolt of turbulence and the way my stomach dipped, as if it was falling out of my body.
I took a deep breath and leaned back against the headrest, thinking a nap was probably the best way to go. That’s when I heard it.
His voice was like smooth honey, deep and baritone. He had a slightly southern drawl, which only added to his attractiveness. When I leaned into the aisle to see him, I lost my balance and fell out of the seat and into the aisle. I shook my head at my own clumsiness and then a large, tanned hand appeared in front of my face.
“Need a hand?”
I looked up at him, his dark hair begging to be touched, his eyes dark and brooding even as his full lips curled into a smirk. Talk about charm. It was obvious from his demeanor that he had absolutely no idea who I was.
I glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched hand. There was no logical reason for me to despise him, considering we’d never officially met. There was no mistaking that face, though. I’d Facebook stalked him so many times, I could probably draw his face from memory.
&nb
sp; He lifted his brow. “You all right?”
I swallowed the sarcastic comment that almost escaped my mouth. “I’m fine.” I took his hand and let him help me up. I dusted off my jean shorts, trying to focus on the fact that he had no idea who I was.
“If you wanted to stare, you could have just taken a picture,” he commented in a low whisper.
I gasped. “What?” Mortification never hit me so hard. My cheeks blushed because he was right and it took all my energy not to start whisper-yelling at him on the plane. Instead, I took several calming breaths, focusing my energy on my own well-being.
“Thank you for helping me,” I grit out.
He chuckled a little, his deep voice causing my stomach to tighten. “It’s no problem. Would you like a picture with me?”
God, he’s arrogant. “Are you some sort of celebrity or something?” I played dumb, even though I knew exactly who he was. I didn’t want to feed his ego, and based on his comments, I knew he could do well being dropped down a peg.
“You don’t know me?” he asked, his voice surprised.
I narrowed my eyes. “Nope.”
He nodded his head. “Right.” He started to turn away, to walk back to his seat, but at the last second, he glanced my way again. “I’ll see you on site in Africa, Nicole.”
My eyes about bugged out of my head as I stared at his back. He knew who I was. I stepped back into my row, dropping into my seat as the stewardess came by again. I covered my face with my hands, dreading the next month of my life, possibly more than death.
* * * * *
The rest of the flight was uneventful and painfully slow. I ended up downing several mixed drinks to try to relax myself, but they hardly worked. So I sat through the entire flight, uncomfortable and wallowing in my own self-pity, praying Dallas didn’t approach me again. Luck was on my side, it seemed.
As the passengers started to deplane, I remained seated, hoping to be the last one off. When there were only a few people left around me, I stood up and tugged my luggage free from the overhead compartment. I hated checking baggage these days, with so many airlines losing luggage left and right. I carried my camera bag on my shoulder and dragged my small wheeled suitcase behind me down the aisle.
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