Kate sat, studying the shadows on the floor, lost in her own thoughts.
“I do know that they loved each other, though. Even when there were things going on at the end. They really, really loved each other. In fact, knowing both of them now, I don’t think they’ve ever stopped loving each other.”
“Even now?” Kate asked. She felt a strange flutter of hope in her chest.
Vanessa smiled. “Don’t quote me on that. After all, I’m not a fan of speculation.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Claremont, California
August 2000
Reed lay naked, propped in a corner of the bed while, across from him, Sam sat in a rickety chair wearing one of his t-shirts. She was sketching him. Again. His leg was bent and he relaxed, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at his girlfriend of four months.
“Why did you put clothes on? If I have to lie here completely still, you should at least let me look at you naked.”
“If I was naked, you’d be more tempted to grab your camera, which would defeat the whole ‘lying still’ thing,” Sam muttered. “You have very long legs, Reed.”
“I do. But then, I seem to remember you praising my proportions earlier this afternoon.”
She shook her head, but he caught her eyes examining him. He smiled when they traced over his face, across his chest, and down his abdomen before they explored further south. He watched her from across the room and wondered just how long she could keep him in bed sketching before she gave into temptation.
“You could have sex all day, couldn’t you, Reed?”
“No, I could take pictures of you naked… and have sex all day.”
“Well, it’s good to know you have diverse interests.”
He smiled at her. He loved the way her hair lay in gold waves over her shoulders. She had perfect shoulders, he thought, and her hair never quite curled, but always seemed to tease that it might. Her strong features were furrowed in concentration as she worked, and he thought again how lucky he was to have found someone who suited him so unexpectedly.
He loved her. He’d realized it the other day, but was still unsure when or how he should tell her. She was the first person he had ever been in love with, and it was much more overwhelming than he had expected. How should he tell her? Reed didn’t know whether he was supposed to make an occasion out of it. Should he take her out for dinner? Get down on one knee? He was pretty sure that was only for proposing. He thought he should probably just tell her. Not during sex, though. He had a feeling he wasn’t supposed to do that.
The tip of Sam’s tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. He was surprised by how much her attention didn’t bother him. For most of his childhood, Reed had been different, and he normally hated being the center of anyone’s attention. With Sam, though, he didn’t mind. It was probably because of the love thing.
“Sam?” he whispered, deliberately trying to break her concentration. “Samantha.”
“Reed,” she whispered back. “Be quiet. Stop trying to distract me. I’m almost done.”
“Well, I’m almost ready to go again. Good timing.” He reached down to indicate a new focus for her attention and smirked when he saw her glance. Sam rolled her eyes again, but Reed caught her hungry look.
She finished her sketch with a small frown between her eyebrows. Then she took a deep breath and closed her book, smiling at him as she finished. “Thanks, baby.”
He crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”
She set her book down, along with her pencils. “Over there?” she asked innocently.
He nodded, continuing to curl a long finger at her, then he grinned and added another, curling two fingers in a suggestive motion. She laughed, but began to walk toward him. Reed mouthed, ‘Come, come, come,’ his full lips curling around the words and his blue eyes narrowing playfully. Giving in to temptation, she crawled on the bed and crept toward him on all fours.
As soon as she was in range of his arms, Reed grabbed her. Sam squealed in delight as he rolled her under his naked body on the rumpled bed. He took his time to explore every inch of her face with his mouth as she laughed and wiggled under him. He paused before he got to her lips and looked into her eyes. His expression softened as he stared at her.
“What?” She giggled quietly.
“Do you know what my favorite part of your face is?”
“No, you’ve photographed my mouth, my eyes, my jaw. I have no idea at this point,” she said, still laughing.
“All of it together. That’s my favorite part. I like your eyes.” He bent down and kissed her eyelids tenderly. “I like your nose.” He laughed as she wrinkled it, but he kissed that, too. “I really like your mouth.” She stuck her tongue out at him, but he captured it between his teeth, turning it into a deep kiss until she was moaning and arching under him. When he finally drew away, they were both panting and smiling.
He moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. “Your neck is beautiful. The skin is so soft,” he murmured. “Your ears.” Reed’s lips moved over and he nibbled the lobe gently. “Your ears are so damn cute. But it all goes together to make one…” He kissed her mouth again and reached up to frame her face with his hands. “Perfectly beautiful face.”
“Reed,” she whispered breathlessly and pulled him down to kiss her again. His lips began moving lower. His hands stroked along her skin as he deftly removed the shirt she had thrown on earlier. He could feel her arching against his body, searching for friction when his mouth reached her breasts.
“More,” she cried, pulling his face up toward hers and moving their bodies into perfect alignment. Sam cried out when he entered her. She wrapped her legs around his hips so they moved in rhythm, and his whispered words covered her as thoroughly as his body.
“Sammy…” She opened her eyes to meet his own. Reed felt as if his heart would explode as he watched her eyes darken in pleasure. She gasped, and he felt her body clench around him in as he moved in her; it tipped him over the edge and he groaned into her mouth when he came. As his breath evened out, Reed rolled them on their sides so he could gather her close to his chest. Then after his heart had calmed, he turned her around, and his lips continued to pepper her shoulder with kisses until he felt her relax. Sam sighed in contentment as she fell asleep. Reed whispered against her skin and followed her soon after.
The next morning, he woke when he felt her crawl over him. The morning light poured through the open window as she sat on the edge of the bed.
“Hey, good morning. Where are you going?” he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. He cleared his throat, watching how the light touched her shoulder and automatically reaching down for the camera that lay on the floor by his bed. He grabbed it and began taking pictures of her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The light caught the small tendrils of hair that curled behind her ear, making them glow, and her skin was luminous in the morning light.
“I promised Vanessa I’d sit for her today. She’s got a watercolor assignment she says would suit my coloring, so I said I’d help. She wanted to do it first thing this morning.”
He hummed absently as he continued clicking pictures with one hand. His other hand ran up and down her back, making her shiver.
“Reed…” She arched, her body automatically responding to his touch. “I have to go, baby.”
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Sammy…” His hand reached up to grasp her shoulder and she tilted her head toward him, a smile starting to grow on her face. His camera continued to click automatically as he continued, “Sammy, I love you.”
She turned, smiling with quiet joy. Grabbing his camera, she placed it beside him on the bed and stroked his face with her hand, scratching lightly at his dark stubble. She leaned toward him, capturing his lips with her own.
“I love you, too.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pomona, California
May 2010
“I can’t believe you’ve never been to the art
walk before.”
Kate met Javi on Saturday night in front of the old Fox Theater on Third Street. He had given her the small bag of lens caps and filters that had fallen out of her backpack before persuading her to walk around for a bit. She found that she didn’t need much convincing as she looked around at the lively street fair.
“I just don’t come down in this direction much. I’m either at school or in Orange County.” Though, upon further reflection, she realized breaking up with Cody was going to free up a lot of her time.
The more she thought about their relationship, the more Kate realized most of it had revolved around Cody. He hardly ever came to her place in Claremont, and it was easy to make the forty minute drive to his house when most of her family lived close by anyway. In fact, most of her family and all her old friends still lived within a few miles of each other.
As she strolled through the Pomona Arts Colony, she realized she had spent more time driving in the past five years than she had appreciating the rich cultural mix that made up Southern California’s Inland Valley.
She caught the smell of sesame oil mixing with the rich spices of traditional Mexican food. A barbecue stand on the corner was occupied by a tall, black man with a Southern accent, who was laughing with a young man wearing a fedora and a guitar strapped to his back. A myriad of languages swirled around her as she wandered through the old downtown, which had been transformed over the previous fifteen years by the unlikely gathering of artists and musicians.
“You’re almost out of college. Time to start hanging out with some real artists.” Javi nodded toward a young man who had some sort of plywood wall set up on the street. He was using spray-paint to layer graffiti and, as Kate watched, the young artist handed the paint can to a woman old enough to be his grandmother and gestured to the wall. The old woman laughed, but tentatively took the can and sprayed a little red paint on the makeshift piece of art as the young man grinned.
Kate was smiling when she looked back at Javi, who was watching her with a curious expression on his face.
“What?”
He started walking again. Frowning at the taciturn sculptor, she hurried to catch up with him. “Why do you live in Pomona?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “I guess I’m just curious.”
He gave a wave to a woman selling tamales on the corner. “You’re curious about a lot, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
He turned to her with a smirk. “Do you have a thing for O’Connor?”
Her mouth fell open. “What? No! Why—I mean, why do you think that?”
“You ask a lot of questions about him, that’s all.” He shrugged. “That asshole always had tail chasing him in school.”
“No, I’ve never had a ‘thing’ for him. Besides, he’s kind of larger-than-life, you know? It’s not like I’ll ever meet him.”
Javi laughed outright. “Why on earth do you say that? You hang out with the closest thing that guy has to friends.”
Kate was speechless for a moment as she considered his words. Finally, she turned to him. “I—I don’t want to talk about O’Connor, okay?”
Javi stared back for a moment before he turned to keep walking down Thomas Street. She joined him, silently taking in the chaotic atmosphere of the Art Walk. The sounds of music met them at the corner, but they kept walking past the group that had gathered around the three street performers.
“Why do I live here?” he finally said. “I guess because… there’s still more mechanics than hipsters.”
“What?” she asked with a laugh.
“You heard me. There’s the Arts Colony, yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I like being around artists as much as I like being around anyone—”
“Which is not all that much, I’m guessing.”
He shrugged. “Most people are annoying.”
“Am I supposed to be flattered?”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why would you be flattered? I never said I liked you.”
She snorted. “Cranky old man.”
“Annoying little girl.”
She rolled her eyes at him and saw the corner of his mouth turn up. “So, you live in Pomona…”
Pausing to let a group of teenagers skate past, he finally answered. “I guess it reminds me of where I grew up in L.A. but not as much of the bad stuff, you know?”
“What—”
“Never mind, you don’t know. Gangs, little girl. Lots of gangs and drugs and shit like that.” Javi nodded at a group of young painters who were huddled together at a booth. Two of them were sketching, and one was talking to a woman about a painting in vivid greens and blues. The painter waved at them enthusiastically.
Kate glanced at the contradictory sculptor by her side. “Okay.”
“There’s still a lot of that here, but something more, I guess. People here want to be better.”
They kept walking past the artists and the vendors, dodging kids and a few dogs as they made their way down the street. Every now and then, someone would call Javi’s name or point at him, but he mostly ignored them as he walked with Kate.
“That’s a good reason to live someplace.”
He looked at her, and a hint of warmth seemed to finally reach his eyes as he answered. “I think so.”
Just then, her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket to see the word “Douchebag” flash across the screen in capital letters, along with Cody’s number. She quickly hit the ignore button, but Javi had already seen it, and he roared with laughter.
She gave him a dirty look, but couldn’t help the small smile that crept across her own face as she watched him.
“Okay,” he finally said when he calmed down. “I’ll admit it. I like you a little bit.”
“Oh, be still, my beating heart.”
That made him chuckle again, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “So, actor or surfer?”
“Surfer. Who used more hair products than me and screwed a bimbo in the back of the shop that mommy and daddy bought for him.”
“‘Douchebag’ sounds about right then.”
They walked in silence for a bit longer, then Javi nodded toward a food stand on the corner where an old woman flipped meat on a grill.
“This place has good tacos. You like tacos, right?”
“Who doesn’t like tacos? That’s like saying you don’t like sandwiches.”
“Exactly, but you should get the tacos al pastor here.”
She squinted at him. “Are you always this bossy?”
Javi thought for a moment. “Probably.”
He bought two tacos for both of them and brushed her away when she offered to pay, so she bought their drinks. They found a clean section of curb to sit along and she watched the passing foot traffic, wishing she had brought her camera.
“Wish you had your camera right now, don’t you?”
Kate stared at Javi mid-bite, amazed he had read her so accurately.
“Yeah.”
He grunted and muttered, “Just like Reed.”
They finished eating in silence and she was surprised to find herself completely relaxed with the quiet man sitting next to her. She didn’t feel the need to make conversation with Javi, because he clearly didn’t want it, and Kate found the peace in the midst of the surrounding noise soothing.
“People aren’t always the way they seem at first, Kate.”
She looked at him, thinking about the surly sculptor she met at the warehouse, and about a reclusive photographer and a mysterious love. “No, I guess they’re not.”
“Did you love him?”
She coughed a little in surprise and took a drink of her soda. “The douchebag? Why do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Just curious, I guess.”
Kate smiled reluctantly. “Fair enough.” She paused. “I thought I did. I thought I knew who he was. I thought he was a nice guy.”
Javi snorted and shook his head. “The last thi
ng you need is a ‘nice guy.’”
She looked at him in shock and set her drink down on the sidewalk before she stood up. She didn’t need a ‘nice guy?’ What the hell? Javi looked up in confusion, frowning at her suddenly angry eyes.
“You don’t know anything,” she choked out before she walked away.
She didn’t hear him call her name.
Part Six: The Assistant
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Corona, California
May 2010
Finding Brandon Wylie, Reed O’Connor’s former assistant, did not prove nearly as difficult as Kate had imagined. In fact, after getting his full name from Vanessa before she left Los Angeles, a quick internet search provided her with his phone number, e-mail, and the physical address of Wylie Exclusive Photography in Corona, California, only thirty minutes from her apartment in Claremont.
He agreed to meet her for an interview as long as she bought him dinner and “enough beer to erase all memories of the Gonzalez quinceñera” from his mind forever.
And that was how Kate found herself sitting in a booth at the Outback Steakhouse with Brandon Wylie, alumnus of Foothill Art Institute and former assistant to acclaimed photographer Reed O’Connor. The years had invested Wylie with a sense of unfulfilled greatness, and he spent most of the dinner talking about his genius being wasted in wedding and family photography.
“Another ‘Big Bloke,’ sir?”
The friendly server looked at Wylie as the portly man shoveled another bite of steak in his mouth. He grunted in affirmation before quickly finishing the last few gulps of his enormous mug of beer. Kate stared wide-eyed and wondered just how much he would be able to eat.
“Miss?”
Kate tore her eyes away and looked at the young man waiting on them. “Another Coke when you get the chance?”
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