“What’s going on with you?” Mackenzie reached for Molly, concern swimming in her eyes and worry creasing her otherwise wrinkle-free face, the result of fabulous genetics.
Molly sighed. Is there anything going on with me? They usually accused her of being moody, but she was an artist. Isn’t that sort of the job description? Acting the part of the tortured soul? They sure never let her play that role for very long.
Tiffany stared at her hard and added, “Yeah, you seemed cranky on the phone. So what’s up?”
“I don’t know. I mean…” Molly really couldn’t explain how she felt. She had a blessed life. Granted, she had worked for it, but, regardless, she knew she was lucky. Happy? Well, that was a different ball of wax.
“Drinks. That’s what we need.” Tiffany perked up, her hand on her hip, taking a sassy stance. She reached for the oversized purse that was slung over her shoulder. A Louis Vuitton knock-off, but it looked as real as they came. It was their little secret. Tiffany dug around and retrieved a bottle of Prosecco, holding it up for them to all gaze at her prize.
“You were carrying that in there? Oh dear. Seriously, Tiffany,” Mackenzie scolded.
Tiffany winked and answered with a wicked grin.
“I, for one, am thrilled our friend is lugging around a bottle. You never know when you may need it.” Molly grinned happily at Tiffany. “It does make you look a little like a wino, but you’re my favorite drunk.”
“No, you have me mistaken. I’m fun, not a drunk.” Tiffany defended as she moved toward a long table that was against the wall opposite the windows. “Besides, at least I bring the good stuff.”
“I have an idea. Let’s stay in. Want to order some food?” Mackenzie suggested.
“Yes, let’s do that. Molly’s got one of the best views in all of Seattle. Let’s just hang out here,” Tiffany replied while she peeled the label away to get to the cork.
“Chinese?” Mackenzie whipped out her cell phone and started to dial their favorite takeout.
“Hell, yes,” Molly and Tiffany answered in unison.
These were her girls. It didn’t matter if they stayed in or went out on the town. As long as they were together, they were guaranteed to have fun.
Shortly, they were seated around a large glass table that Molly normally used to lay out prints from shoots. They dined on their fill of chow mein, pork fried rice and more Kung Pao shrimp than any woman should ever eat. White cartons, soy sauce packets and chopsticks were littered around them as they chatted about everything—mostly about the lack of sex or romance in their lives. Biting into a crispy fortune cookie—her favorite—Molly surveyed her beautiful friends. She couldn’t understand why any of them were single. Tiffany was gorgeous, sweet and sassy… What was there not to love about her? Mackenzie was stunning, witty and full of love… She had so much to offer. Then there was her. She knew she might not be the sexiest thing on the planet, but she was successful, caring and everyone constantly complimented her on how pleasant she was, even telling her she was sort of hot, especially when she wore her glasses. So how is it that I haven’t landed the perfect guy yet? Cracking open another cookie, she read the thin slip of white paper. Bold red font stared back at her, reading, ‘There is nothing truer than the company of friends.’ How right is that fortune?
More wine flowed and, to keep the mood light, Molly blasted the radio. She and her two best friends danced barefoot in the empty studio, singing their hearts out and putting on a drunken performance that could rival the best pop star’s. Tiffany swayed her hips to the song. Mackenzie took a while to loosen up, but then started to bop to the beat. Molly busted out some goofy moves that reminded her of middle school dances, her favorite being the ‘running man’. They laughed hard, clutching their sides when Tiffany took a spill on the slippery wood floor. In their feeble attempt at helping her up, they all ended up on the floor somehow, spread-eagled, staring up at the vaulted ceilings. Music continued to play, filling the wide and open space, but the mood had shifted. That was when the laughter died and the deep realness of their friendship was exposed.
“I love you, guys,” Tiffany whispered, her dark tresses fanned out against the honey-colored bamboo floor.
“Me too,” Mackenzie added softly.
Molly tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat, feeling tears starting to surface. “I love you both. Thank you for tonight.”
They all stayed on the floor, listening to several more songs before Tiffany said, “God, this floor is killing my back. I feel old.”
Mackenzie and Molly both laughed.
“And for the record, we are old,” Mackenzie replied.
“I wanted to say the same thing, but figured I would tough it out until one of you cracked.” Molly started to get up.
Mackenzie and Tiffany groaned as they eased themselves off the floor. Working quietly as a team, they cleaned up the remnants of their dinner.
“I would totally live here, Molly,” Mackenzie commented as she tossed several cartons into a waste basket.
Tiffany was wiping up some sticky Kung Pao sauce. “Seriously. This studio is so fabulous. You need to let me move in here.”
“I do love this place.” Molly looked around at her kingdom. An enormous clear-glass shelf that held her many awards was against one of the walls. Expensive frames that contained some of her best work were hung precisely in the perfect locations. Various shades, light fixtures and tons of other photography gear were set up in one corner. The room celebrated her. It showcased all of her efforts but, more importantly, it proudly displayed her passion for this form of art.
After every last morsel was cleaned and the work space was back to being immaculate, they made their way back to the window. The sun had long since disappeared, leaving the city lights to twinkle silently as the three of them stared out at the busy traffic below.
“Thank you again, guys. I really needed this tonight.”
Mackenzie and Tiffany linked their arms through hers as she stood in the middle.
She would be lost without them. They knew all her secrets and her fears. They had supported her during her moments of crippling self-doubt. They’d loved her when she was at her worst. They’d dried her tears when critics had given her harsh reviews. They were her cheerleaders. They’d pushed her to continue to pursue her dream so many times when she’d just wanted to give up. They had been the first to celebrate when she finally did become successful and had told her countless times how much she deserved it.
These women were more than just friends. They were her tribe, her sisters. They were Molly’s everything.
Chapter Two
Molly watched as a seagull snatched a dirty French fry from the asphalt. She sipped her to-go coffee. The cinnamon-infused latte was an early afternoon treat that Tiffany had insisted on, and it was simply delicious. The mere mention of caffeine had been enough to lure Molly away from her studio, and it was a brilliant opportunity to take her camera and maybe capture something cool. There were many perks to living in Seattle—great coffee, interesting people and places.
After setting her coffee back down on the weathered wooden bench they had been sitting on for the last thirty minutes or so, she twisted the plastic lens cap off her camera and peered through the tiny window to focus on the seagull that was attacking another fry.
“Those birds are gross,” Tiffany stated as they both stared at the creature that was nearly bald on his left side, just under his soft white wings with their pale gray tips.
Molly came to his defense. “They kinda are, but they’re just trying to survive. We all are.” The gloomy weather matched her mood. She’d felt argumentative ever since she’d woken up. Her morning had started off pretty rough. Her coffee pot hadn’t worked because she’d forgotten to set the timer the night before. When she’d showered, she’d reached for her conditioner, only to find the bottle completely empty—well, just about. She’d scraped what little conditioner was left on the sides of the bottle, getting her
finger stuck once. No, the morning had been simply craptastic. Traffic on the way to her studio had been a nightmare, then, after locking herself inside her haven, she’d planned to work on some photos then found that they had just disappeared. Yeah, not a good day.
“Just look at that thing. He’s missing a lot of feathers. Probably has rabies or something.”
Molly zoomed in with her camera, seeing the patches of exposed pink skin on the bird. She snapped several pictures. “Poor thing probably has anxiety.”
Tiffany kicked a stray French fry toward the bird, spooking it. The balding creature flew away in search of a safer place to dine on the tourists’ scraps.
“So, no models today?” Tiffany asked as she combed her fingers through her long hair that the wind was quickly tangling. They sat there staring out at the dark and choppy water in front of them, the late afternoon sun partially hidden by growing storm clouds.
“Nope. I have a guy coming in later on this week for a shoot. He’s supposed to be a really big deal.”
“Really? Please let me know if he’s single.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to date a model.” Molly snapped a couple more pictures of some seagulls that caught her attention. They weren’t bald like their buddy, who was still scavenging for rogue fries and popcorn left behind by people enjoying the waterfront.
“Well, let me find out the hard way. I’m so sick and tired of not finding anyone. I need a man, like…badly.” Tiffany emphasized her feelings by throwing her arms up in the air suddenly.
Molly was unprepared for that and nearly dropped her camera.
“Look at all these people. Why can’t I find one guy?”
“I get it and it sucks.” A sudden wave of optimism washed over Molly. “But they say there’s someone for everyone.”
“Well, they’re wrong. There are more women on the planet than men, so apparently they got their numbers all screwed up,” Tiffany countered with a silly smirk.
“What about lesbians?”
Tiffany laughed and nodded. “Good point.”
After finishing their coffees, they decided to walk along the pier. Molly would pause to capture shots of barnacle-covered boats that were anchored in the harbor. The pungent smell of the raw ocean was a scent that Molly loved. Something about the mix of the salty sea and the breeze made Molly feel better. Today had been crappy, but she was glad it might be finally turning around.
* * * *
The rest of the week was met with bouts of more awful rain, brief moments of sunshine and even a few seconds of hail. That was Seattle…the ever-unpredictable weather of the Emerald City. Molly was gazing out of her windows, rain splattering hard against the glass. She took in the sights of cars splashing through large, dirty puddles. She could hear the distant sounds of horns honking. No one was happy about this crummy weather. Molly peeked at her watch. Her model was late—not like fashionably late, more like several hours late. They had lost some unexpected sunshine that would have been perfect for shooting. Now she’d have to rely on artificial lighting. Molly grew more annoyed as time ticked on. Where is this guy? She’d already sent him a text message—no reply, of course. He’d better be worth the wait was all she could think when the buzzer chimed loudly.
She stomped to the doors to answer then opened them slowly. It was like opening a present, revealing whatever gorgeous thing that might be hidden behind them. And gorgeous it was. Standing at least six foot four and leaning against the door jamb was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. So worth the wait.
He flashed her a crooked grin and all was forgiven.
Oh, I’m in trouble with this one.
“I’m so terribly sorry. I meant to call, but my phone died.” He waved a small black cell phone at her as some sort of proof.
“That’s fine. It happens to the best of us. Come on in.” Molly moved aside to let him pass.
“Wow, this space is incredible.” He seemed to glide by her. His movements were graceful as he evaluated the studio.
“Thanks.” Molly closed the doors and hurried to catch up with him. “As you can see, I normally get a ton of natural light, but the gods are frowning on us today.”
“Or smiling on someone who’s doing a rain dance,” he said.
“We’re in Seattle. No one is asking for rain.” Molly felt herself grow nervous in his company. She watched as he ran his hand through his overgrown caramel-colored hair. It wasn’t shaggy, but that perfect model-type hair, enough to manipulate for different looks. She envisioned what it would look like in the morning after he woke.
“So, what’s the game plan?”
There was that crooked grin again. This time she noticed it was paired with green eyes that seemed to be sizing her up. Molly’s core heated. Oh, this man is good. He knew the effect he had on women. It had been apparent the moment he winked at her and spun around to look out of her window.
“Killer view.”
He can say that again. Molly couldn’t take her eyes off him. This wasn’t like her at all. She never responded this way. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but her body didn’t usually have such an instant and wicked reaction to one of her models.
Standing next to him may not have been the brightest move on Molly’s part. Being in that close a radius was driving her senses wild.
“So what kind of shots did you have in mind?”
Molly tried to keep her eyes trained on the traffic lights below, shining in all the puddles that had formed in the streets. But temptation got the best of her and she turned to meet his eyes. What she hadn’t expected was him peeling off his shirt. As he removed it with such finesse, lifting the cotton garment that only moments earlier had stretched tightly across his well-sculpted chest, he revealed some of the most defined abs she’d ever encountered, which in her case were a lot. They were her weakness, her complete and utter undoing. The wonderful shape of the V… Not every guy had it, but when they did, it made her brain do silly things. His seemed to point into his jeans that were riding low on his hips. Her mouth suddenly grew dry and she swallowed to compose herself. He followed her eyes, his grin widened and he winked once more.
Molly prided herself on being able to stay professional. Temptation presented itself often, this being one of those times. She had worked too damn hard to soil her reputation. Granted, getting tangled up in the sheets with a guy that looked like the one standing before her would probably be incredible. But what would happen after that? He sure didn’t look like the settling down, white-picket-fence type. She had to tear her eyes away from his colorfully inked arms. The muscles seem to flex all on their own. Her camera was about to have a field day with how hot this guy was, that she would be able to capture just the right angles for the author who had requested the use of this model for their cover. That was the easy part. The problem was his allure. He oozed sex appeal. He knew how good he looked. That was the annoying part of dealing with guys like him. Add in that when they were slightly interested, they thought they could turn on the charm by winking and smiling their way into her pants. Yeah, not likely. They didn’t realize Molly had worked too damn hard, earned too much respect, to give all that up just for a night in bed.
“You ready to do this?” The model shot her a perfect set of stark white teeth that were cradled in luscious lips.
Molly blinked and tried to gather any professional fiber left in her being. “Absolutely.”
Stay strong, Molly.
* * * *
“Pour me another, too,” Molly whined. The buzz was settling in nicely. Her brain was fuzzy and everything was making her giggle.
“Oh, but of course.” Tiffany grabbed the bottle and poured more wine into Molly’s glass, then moved to fill Mackenzie’s as well. She grabbed her own glass and shook out the last precious drops.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Mackenzie asked.
“To finish another bottle.” Tiffany held up the now-bone-dry one and walked into the adjoining kitchen to retrieve another
.
It was Friday night and, like every single Friday for as long as Molly could remember, they got together. They called it Friendship Friday. They would laugh all night, drink far too much, then cap it off by passing out in front of a rented movie. It was like a grown-up slumber party. They would rock pajamas, messy buns and no makeup. Usually, they would pick out a cheesy romantic comedy, a couple of bottles of wine to wash down the high calorie snacks they would scarf and stay up until the wee hours of the morning. Most of the Friday nights were awesome, but they had spent their share crying and drowning their broken hearts after break-ups, terrible losses or just the frustrations of adult life. There had been nights when they’d shared their dreams and hopes for the future, but what had always remained the same was that they’d spent Friday together, and the plan was in place to always do this.
“What movie did you get, Molly?” Mackenzie had hung her long legs over the arm of one of Tiffany’s couches and she turned to face Molly, who was seated on the opposite couch with her legs tucked under her.
Tonight they were at Tiffany’s. The rotation of hosting their Friendship Friday night kept things interesting. One of them would host, providing an ample buffet of all the most carb-infused goodness possible, another would bring the drinks and the other was responsible for finding something to entertain them. It was a simple plan and it worked.
Tiffany’s apartment screamed shabby chic in the best way possible. Her style was eclectic, funky and it matched her personality to a T. It had a comfortable feel. She kept bright and colorful throw pillows everywhere that had the most incredible patterns. Velvety soft throws were lying on the mismatched furniture in the living room. It was warm and cozy, and Molly loved hanging out there. Tiffany lived in the newly redeveloped Fremont area. It had seen its share of not-so-good times, but now it was quickly being flipped into a trendy neighborhood inhabited by artists and hipsters. Cute shops and eateries were moving in and making it the cool place to be. Plus, it was home to the Fremont Troll, an enormous concrete sculpture that was under a bridge and becoming a growing attraction for tourists.
Reeling in Love Page 2