She pulled in another breath. “He introduced me to Finny once. And she said she was interested in seeing some of my work. If she liked it, she’d fly us to Milan and see what we could do at her next runway show.
“Python and I ended up breaking things off soon after that, which freed me up in time to accept Gramps’s offer to come out here … But then four months later, I got a call from Python asking me to come with him to Milan. We had scored the job.”
Anthony lifted a brow. “So you shot a runway show in Milan? Sounds prestigious.”
“That’s just it,” Kira said. “I was happy here with Gramps. And I didn’t even like my ex-boyfriend anymore. But I left anyway.”
Anthony gave her a nod. He held his expression together, but the lighthearted air was gone. Kira was scaring him, she could tell.
“I picked proving myself over happiness. I couldn’t resist the chance to say that I’d shot on a runway in Milan. Like you said—it’s impressive.”
“So what went wrong?”
“I made a huge mistake.” Kira’s insides knotted at the recollection. “I shot the runway for two full days. Not only Finny Shea’s work, but other designers as well. When it was time to turn our work in, I stupidly gave my flash drive to Monty, or Python, or whatever he’s going by now.”
She chuckled over his ridiculous names, but then the pain sank back into place. Threatening the confidence she’d built up like an axe hovered over a shiny red apple. As lovely as that confidence was, it was nothing compared to the haunting menace of her past. “Monty stole my images and claimed they were his. Finny was really impressed with them, too. Not only did she hire him on full time, letting me go in the process, but she initiated a relationship with him.”
“Ouch.” Anthony pulled in a breath through clenched teeth. “That had to hurt.”
She nodded. “I even took them to court over it. I’d been cheated out of the photos, the money, the recognition … But I lost the case since I couldn’t prove the images were mine without having a digital copy of them.” The humiliation was like a layer of scum. A layer that worked its way back over her skin at the memory. “The hardest part of it is just … not being able to clear the Moretti name. Here I raise this big stink suing a world-renowned fashion designer, and I lose. I wish I could go back and not file the suit in the first place. Better to leave it alone than to taint the family name.”
A sigh pulled at her throat. “It also would’ve been nice to show my family that I could accomplish something big. They know I was wronged and that I might have had some prize-winning pictures in the bunch. But I have nothing tangible to show for it. I wanted them to see that I actually had talent. Enough to take me somewhere besides a small-town studio that Gramps handed down to me.”
There. She’d done it. But unlike the tasks she regularly scratched off her lists, this didn’t offer that anticipated flood of relief or boost of accomplishment. If anything, she felt an increased dose of dread.
Anthony’s face was unreadable as he sat there, seeming to take it in.
“I guess I was hoping to sort of start fresh, you know? Be in a place where people weren’t aware of my past screw-ups.”
He nodded. “I can understand that.”
“So maybe it was a bad idea to share that with you, is what I’m saying.” Her heart kicked back like she’d cornered it.
“Your family shouldn’t hold that against you, Kira. And it sounds more like a life-lesson thing. But if it’ll make you feel better, I can sort of even things out …”
Kira quirked a brow. “I’m sure it won’t compare with mine.”
“If I hadn’t been out there chasing butterflies of my own, I would have been here when you came the first time.” He let that simmer in the space between them before elaborating. “Elsie Fischer. She was the butterfly I was trying to catch. Or maybe I was chasing the happiness I thought being with her would bring. She was probably a lot like my mom, in retrospect. She’d moved to Cobble Creek, determined to make a life for herself at a dude ranch.”
“They have those here?” Kira asked.
“A few.” He ran a thumb over the smooth leather surface of the couch. “Elsie wanted to learn about horses and eventually teach others how to ride and care for them. She and I started dating. I took her out to Griff’s place and taught her what I knew about the animals. I fell fast and hard, something I have the tendency to do. Told myself she was perfect for me since—unlike my first girlfriend—she planned to stay put. But soon enough she started complaining about small-town life. When we didn’t see eye to eye on it, she started prodding at a rebellious part of me.”
“See?” Kira said. “I knew you had it in you.”
“Yeah, it was my James Dean moment. Elsie kept telling me that staying here and running the diner wasn’t what I really wanted to do. That I was stuck here against my will. And I started to believe it. I started thinking I’d been forced into a life I never wanted.”
“Where did she want to go?” Kira asked, folding her legs crisscross beneath her. “What did she want to do?”
“Run an aquarium,” Anthony said with a laugh.
“That’s a leap.”
He nodded. “From land to sea creatures. Neither of which she knew anything about.”
Kira swallowed hard. Anthony had compared the girl to his own mother—a woman who’d abandoned both him and his father. But if she were being honest, this Elsie sounded a lot like Kira, too. Which she hated.
“She’d found this place in Detroit. It was about to close down, so she put the rest of her money into buying it.”
The sun must’ve broken through the clouds, because suddenly the natural light in the studio glowed twice as bright, bringing with it a warm, gold glow that enhanced Anthony’s olive complexion. One that created shadows along the muscular contours of his arms.
“Since she’d poured all that money into the aquarium, I stuck around to help her get it off the ground. We replaced bulbs and fixtures, filters and glass. And refinished the floors. The whole process showed me that Elsie was right. This really was the right path for her. Which made me wonder if that’s what was happening on some island for my mom. Perhaps it’d just taken a few tries. But something else became clear during that time: Sadly, it wasn’t where I belonged. I missed being home. And soon that homesickness outweighed my feelings for her.
“When I look back on it, I think God put it in my heart to help give her the new start she was looking for. In return, he showed me that I didn’t need to go looking for anything outside of what I already had.” He glanced out the window toward the diner. “I’m glad I came back in time to share those last years with my old man before he passed. I was the only family he really had.” A wistful look brewed in his eyes. “Means the world to me.”
“Yeah,” Kira said, the word nearly choked with emotion. “I’m glad too.” Inwardly, she was thinking of how Anthony didn’t have any family left. She was glad he’d found friends in the people he’d referred to, some regulars who come into the diner, and others around town. But still, it made her wonder if she’d taken her own family for granted.
“So now you’ve got the scoop on me,” Anthony said. “At least one of them. If you ask me, it sounds like we’ve both made our mistakes. But you’ve got this nice studio to run. I’ve got the diner across the street. It’s possible each of us has landed exactly where we’re meant to be.”
Kira couldn’t help but envy the confidence he spoke with. Voices from her past—Gramps used to call them gremlins—told her she’d never settle down. Never enjoy a content life. And never achieve anything great in the eyes of her family.
“You didn’t come over for coffee this morning.” Anthony said. He looked at her through dark lashes, chin lowered, eyes questioning.
Kira scrambled for an excuse, but decided to spit out the truth instead. “I didn’t want you to get sick of me.”
Anthony shook his head, sighed, and leaned his elbows onto his knees. “Would you have dinner with me tonight?”<
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The patient sound of his voice, the way he’d presented the question rather than argue with her about what she’d said, all of it took Kira by surprise. A spritz of tingles washed over her skin and somewhere inside her tummy, too. “Yes,” she said. “I’d love to.”
He stood, stepped over to where he’d draped his leather jacket, and shrugged into it. “Good. We can talk about the diner shoot then,” he said. “My place. I’ll text you the address. Does six o’clock work for you?”
Kira nodded, still trying to catch up. He must already have her number, because he’d texted her that morning. The sign, she reminded herself. That’s where he’d found it.
Anthony took three long strides back to the couch where Kira still sat, legs tucked beneath her. She looked up as he neared, gulped as he lowered himself, and let her lashes close as he brushed a kiss over her forehead. “See you tonight.”
And as he strode out of the studio, the chime echoing over the space, Kira rubbed the goose bumps that rose on her arms, loving the effect he had on her.
Chapter 9
Everyone had lessons to learn in life. That’s what Anthony took from his conversation with Kira. Perhaps what they’d learned so far would help them develop a healthy relationship. There was no telling if things between them would progress as he hoped, but even if they didn’t, Anthony wanted to help Kira succeed. Everyone deserves to feel good about what they offer the world, even if it was simply great food and a comfortable place to enjoy it. There was value in that. And there would be value in what Kira did too. Who knew? Perhaps maintaining the quality Angelo offered at Studio Click would be enough to—in Kira’s mind—restore the family name.
The funny thing was, Anthony found himself wanting to hurry things along. Get to the part where they were steadily dating and thinking of marriage and … and being in a place where he felt certain Kira wasn’t going to leave.
He shook his head. What was it that had him so anxious to give away his heart? He recalled something Angelo said in response to that very question, the words coming back to him as if spoken from the angel himself: “You’ve got a whole lot of love to give, son, that’s all. Just watch that you don’t put it in the wrong place.”
Anthony grabbed a couple of forks and worked at shredding the roast he’d prepared in the slow cooker. He nodded in satisfaction as the tender, aromatic meat separated easily beneath the tines. A glance at the clock said Kira would be there any minute, which was perfect; the au jus was ready, the fresh buns were sliced, and the sweet potato wedges were roasted to perfection.
He leaned a hip against the counter, his mind drifting back to their conversation that morning. Anthony hadn’t liked seeing Kira so upset, worried over the mishap with the pictures she’d taken. But like she said, it could’ve been worse. At least they’d just been test shots.
A sharp chime from the doorbell pierced through his thoughts. Anthony’s chest filled with a mixture of anticipation and terror. He rinsed his hands off, reached for a dish towel, and dried them on his way through the front room.
The doorknob was warm to the touch as he pulled it open, but the screen door handle felt like an ice rod. He pushed it open quickly, urging Kira into the warmth and closing the door behind her. “Whew,” he said, rubbing a hand over her back. “It’s colder than I thought out there.”
Kira stood mere inches from him, her strawberry scent assuring him—in case seeing her wasn’t enough—that she was actually there, in his home. She lifted a glass bowl of something white and fluffy and grinned. “Candy bar salad,” she said. “It’s got fresh fruit in it, which means it’s a side, not dessert.”
Dang, he liked this girl. “It is now, is it?” He inspected the plastic-wrap-covered creation as he took the bowl from her and walked it to the table. When he spun back around, Kira was already removing her coat.
Anthony stepped over in time to take it from her and hang it beside the wooden bench in the entryway.
“It’s nice in here,” she said, taking in the place as she slowly walked. “Oh …” She stopped in her tracks. “Forgot to take these off.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
But she scurried back toward the bench just the same. “I don’t mind.” She plopped onto the bench and pried off the tall cowgirl boots she wore before adjusting a fluffy pair of pale pink socks on her feet. They matched the oversized sweatshirt that hung slightly off one delicate shoulder.
She toured the place a bit more, inspecting pictures on the mantel. There were only two. “So I can tell that this is you and your dad out front of the diner,” she said. “But who’s in this other one? The black-and-white?”
Anthony walked up behind her. “That’s my old man and his dad out front the Italian sub shop. They ran the place together before my dad moved.”
Kira nodded, bringing her face closer to the pictures as her eyes narrowed. “The men in your family are handsome.” She flashed him a grin. “You’ve got good genes.”
Heat stirred low in his belly. “Thanks.”
Kira folded her arms over her chest and stepped toward the bookshelf. “Remind me … how did your dad die? Was it an accident?”
“Lung cancer, actually.”
Kira’s face was buried in the bookshelf. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She spun around to look at him. “That must have been awful.”
“Yeah.” Anthony cleared his throat, then shifted his eyes to the dinner table before the emotion kicked in. “Well, I hope you came hungry.”
She looked at him for a moment, seeming to acknowledge the topic diversion. “I am,” she said. “Starving, actually. And it smells amazing in here.” Kira stepped closer to him, bumped him in the arm with her shoulder. “I’ve never dated a guy who can cook.”
Anthony puffed up his chest and stretched an arm behind her back. “Well, get ready for the good life, baby, because I’m the best in town.”
She giggled. “Lucky me.”
After washing up at the sink, Kira helped take care of a few last-minute details like pan-frying the cut halves of ciabatta bread and dressing the salad. Soon they were seated in the dining area, food dished out, and conversation in full force: things like childhood memories, awkward first dates, and how they managed to get through those cruel adolescent years.
As they finished up, Kira plopping a second scoop of candy bar salad onto her plate, Anthony settled the details for the diner photo shoot. “Between two to four o’clock is our least busy time of day. Will that work for you?”
Kira nodded. “Sure. And I’m mainly shooting the members of your team? Waiters, busboys, owner …” She gave him a wink.
“That’s what I imagined. You think that will be good?”
She looked hesitant for a blink, but then nodded. “Yes. I think it will be great, in fact. Oh!” she blurted, wiping a spot of cream off her upper lip. “I’ve got some exciting news for you. I almost forgot.”
Anthony lifted a brow. “All right. Let’s hear it.” Already, she looked so pleased with herself he had to smile.
“I talked to the secretary at Cobble Creek High School and found out that their next dance is in less than a month. It’s a girl’s choice dance with a fifties theme.”
“Okay,” he encouraged.
“Monica—that’s the secretary’s name—told me they didn’t have a photographer yet, and if I wanted the job, it was all mine.”
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah, and they have several dances throughout the school year, so I’ll be able to come up with new backdrops and ideas for each one.”
He smiled, absorbing Kira’s warm, brilliant energy. Allowing it to soak into his soul like a soothing remedy. In the last week, Anthony had talked with Kira over coffee at the diner a handful of times, been to her studio twice, and taken her out on a date. And each time, she managed to soften his mood with her playful nature, offering fun and interest to each interaction. He guessed life didn’t often get boring when Kira Moretti was around.
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bsp; She leaned her elbows onto the table as she continued, her eyes wide with excitement. “I was thinking about what kids like now and how they—especially for the girl’s choice dances—probably want something less formal. And with it being a fifties theme and all …” She dragged out the last word, cuing Anthony to pick up where she’d left off. He was already catching the drift.
“We could do it in the diner.”
“Yes,” she cheered, jumping to her feet. “If you’re okay with it.”
“That’s a great idea.”
Her smile grew wider. “I hoped you’d think so. It’s not that I couldn’t do them in the studio or the school, but it’d be perfect to shoot them in that far booth by the back entrance. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I do.” He loved the fact that Kira was thinking differently—talking about her plans as more of a we thing than a me thing.
“And hopefully they’ll want to get some fries and shakes while they’re there. Oh, and they said I could bring out handouts for senior pictures too, since graduation’s coming up in a few months.” Kira leaned to one side of the chair, shoved a hand into her back pocket, and pulled out a folded page. “This is a list of their dances for next year, along with their themes. The student body already sat down and arranged them.”
Kira slid the paper around her plate, past the center dish where the extra meat and buns rested, and alongside the side bowl with Kira’s candy bar salad. “If the one next month goes well, we could incorporate other businesses along Main Street according to the theme.” She was talking faster now, her excitement building as she rested a finger on the page. “They have a Halloween dance at the beginning of the upcoming school year. Think of how cool it would be to shoot that in Books and Nooks, that cute little bookstore on Main. Stretch webs across one of the aisles; maybe have a live tarantula climbing up a stack of books up front. Some dry ice wafting smoke just behind the couple.”
“Wow,” Anthony said. “You’ve really got a good mind for this, don’t you? Makes me want to go back to high school so I can get something other than those lame dance pictures where we sit there posed in front of some foam pillar and fake, dusty plants.”
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