There, I have said it. Got it out in the open. The sour taste on my tongue turns bitter.
I haven’t discussed anything relating to Gavin in so long, I am not sure if I am being relieved of a burden or gaining a new one. Shelly, and her brother Micah, are the only two people in my current life, other than my parents, who know about me and Gavin. They also know not to mention him around me.
“You know I’m going to need more to go on. Spill,” Erin coaxes.
But I am not surrendering everything I have worked so hard to forget in one sitting. I don’t mind sharing with her, but will do so at my own pace. And now is definitely not the time.
“Maybe later. Right now, my head is pounding. I just want to gather up all the equipment, shove it in the car, and head home. Perhaps drink enough to pass out, but not so much I will have a hangover tomorrow. Since we’ll be in the blinding sun for hours.”
Erin nods and collects equipment from around the room, placing it in the appropriate storage crates. A few minutes pass as we break down the set in silence. Just as I think how great it is of her to stop playing twenty questions with me, she speaks up.
“I’ll drop the subject for today. But tomorrow…” She pauses for a breath. “You’re catching me up on this whole Gavin-Cora history. We can do it at your place or out somewhere. Either way, you’re giving it up.”
I stop and stare at her, realizing she is more than just an assistant. Erin is a bestie. One I am proud to have at my side. My team. All the years of not sharing this part of me, it was for selfish reasons. All because I didn’t want to rehash old wounds. Or cut new ones when hope sparkled in my eyes at remembering him.
Wounds heal, right? Sure, some leave scars. But scars don’t define you; they mend you. Give you thicker skin. Show you different paths.
I am more than that small, worried, heartbroken girl. Now, I am a woman. A woman who takes no shit. Or allows anyone to trample over her heart. And gives no fucks to someone such as Gavin Hunt—a selfish asshole who didn’t have the decency to try and keep his word and what we had.
He doesn’t know it yet, but because of him… no one can ever knock me down. No one can take my heart captive.
No one. Not even him.
Chapter Four
Gavin
The last few hours of the shoot were a blur of confusion. I did my best to focus, but my head was all over the place. Every time Cora held the camera to her eye and peered through the lens, my skin flamed. Yes, she was doing her job, but it felt like so much more.
Thirteen years have passed since I last saw Cora. Thirteen years since I last spoke with her. And somehow, it feels like thirteen years is about to catch up with us in no time.
Just as Alyson and I prepare to leave, I ask Alyson to give me a moment. She checks her watch and nods with slight annoyance. Not sure if it is directed at me personally or the fact I am derailing her schedule. She lives and dies by schedules, but we have nothing planned after the shoot. Sure, she is just tired. It has definitely been a long day.
I walk over to Cora, her hands fidgeting with her equipment. As I step close to her, she stops but doesn’t look up. Funny—or cruel—reality, we have always sensed each other’s proximity. From the day I met Cora, her energy danced with mine. Her energy is my energy.
“It was good seeing you again,” I mutter. For some reason, I feel the need to keep this conversation quiet from the other sets of ears in the room. Alyson knows nothing about Cora, and I don’t know if Cora’s assistant knows of me.
She sets the camera on the table, takes a breath, then turns to face me. A softness hazes her green eyes. “You, too.” Something resides beneath her exterior. Something she doesn’t want me to see. And the notion bothers me.
“You want to grab dinner? We can catch up.”
Her brow furrows a moment. Eyes twitch before working to right themselves. Lips pinch then loosen. Pain dances over her face for a breath and it stabs me straight in the heart. “Maybe another time. I’m tired and I think I’ll just head home for the night.”
Her rejection hits me harder than I care to admit. I blink away the sting behind my eyes. “Another time,” I mumble, walking away and out of the room with Alyson on my heels.
I am so fucked.
Alyson drones on about today’s shoot. Talking to me as if I had never stood in front of a camera before and had millions of photos taken. Telling me which shots she thinks will be the money makers and which I could have improved. I fucking hate it when she talks to me as if I am a goddamn child. How many years have I been doing this now? A decade, or close to it. I may not hold any Man of the Year awards, but people know me. People respect me.
When she gets like this, I zone out. Same conversation, new shoot.
While she carries on, we step into the elevator and ride up, away from the banquet room where Cora remains. Alyson gets props for hooking me up at a luxury hotel on Clearwater Beach. This place sits on the water and I have an unobstructed view of the beach and when the sun sets. Sunsets are the ideal end to my day. Hopefully not my life.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. We step out and walk toward my room. Alyson yammers on beside me, saying how this shoot is somewhat of a new concept for me. How the majority of my work has been modeling for romance novel covers or risqué images. Personally, I enjoy the latter.
Today started a new journey for me. I stepped foot into the world of designer clothing modeling. Modeling clothing isn’t foreign to me, but it has never been for an internationally known fashion designer. This contract could take me to the next level. This contract could open up so many future opportunities.
I hold my key card against the door lock and push through the door a second later. Alyson continues sharing what the company is looking for from the week-long shoot. At this point, I listen to her. This information I need to absorb. We talk back and forth as we sit on the couch in my suite. Strategizing how to maximize this shoot.
Click. Click. I recall the camera shutter sounds from hours ago when we stepped into the banquet room.
I shake my head in an attempt to dissolve the trickling memories of earlier and try to focus on what Alyson is saying. But it is no use. An impossibility.
The moment I was within twenty feet of Cora, a hum I haven’t felt in years buzzed in my veins. A buzz only one woman created. When I glanced up to locate the source, I was rendered immobile. Confusion trickled through me as my chest tightened. All I kept thinking was I know that black hair and slender frame.
“Gavin, are you hearing a word I’m telling you?” Alyson asks as she grabs a bottled water from the mini-fridge.
“Yeah, I’m listening.” Lie. I haven’t heard a damn word she has said in the last ten minutes.
The second Alyson drones on about the contract, I zone out again.
Cora’s forced, tight smile flashes in my head. The way it lit up her face, but wasn’t exactly how I remembered it. And I never forgot her face. Never. It may not look the same as it did all those years ago—now a touch fuller and more woman than girl—but I would know it anywhere. Know her anywhere. Without question.
And her demeanor. Parts of her seemed so artificial now. From the fake smile to the handshake. I expected her to shake Alyson’s hand, but mine… I don’t know why, but part of me hoped to hug her. Begged to feel her petite frame pressed to mine. But we are here for business, so I suppose hugs would be inappropriate. With my career, I am not one to cross certain lines, but this is Cora. It is different. We are different.
Or so I thought…
But in front of my agent and her assistant, she put on a front that we were old friends, united once again. I know things between us ended in a shitty way, but let’s get real. Once upon a time, we were way more than friends. We were… everything.
And suddenly, my wallet rests much heavier in my back pocket, knowing what I have kept under my license all these years. Something not another soul knows about. Something sacred.
Throughout the shoot, I
messed with her. A little banter here. A dose of flirting there. Every chance I had to say her name, I swirled it over my tongue and plastered on a smile all women swoon over. At times, it amazes me what I have gotten out of using that smile. But that smile doesn’t faze Cora. Not in the slightest.
Seeing as we haven’t spoken in more than a decade, I’m sure I know very little about her anymore. Even when I chat with Micah from time to time, he hasn’t said much about her.
Micah is one of my closest friends. We have known each other since I was eleven and him thirteen. He also happens to be the older brother of Cora’s best friend, Shelly. Not sure how close Micah is with Cora, but seeing as he never spoke about her with me, I assume not close at all. Either that or he makes sure he doesn’t broach a subject as sticky as me and Cora.
Even with the time and distance apart, Cora gave me a ration of shit as if we had seen each other days ago. A few times, it was easy to think she was flirting back. Her smirk. The way she peeked around the camera a little longer than typical. The occasional cock of her brow.
She is kind of feisty now. And the thought of provoking her further turns me on.
But each time she schooled her expression, flipping her photographer persona on, all I wanted to do is fuck with her more. And she made it way too easy. Like she was secretly enjoying it. Who knows, maybe she was.
As much as I feared the possibility of seeing her during my time here, feared her reaction and my own, a new burst of excitement courses through me. Every time our eyes met, I put on a snide, panty-dropping smile, and waited for her to direct me. It was better to be a distraction than own how I really felt. Because if I own my true feelings with her eyes on me, she will know. Without a doubt, she will read every wish and regret I own.
“Mr. Hunt, if you could please move over to the backdrop near the windows.”
She was all business. But I was, and am, determined to challenge her.
I used her name like a weapon, shooting it off my tongue in slow motion.
“Earth to Gavin?” Alyson waves in front of my face.
“Huh?” Shit. It is blatantly obvious she has caught me ignoring her. Probably didn’t miss anything noteworthy. “What did you say?”
She shakes her head at me. “I said you’d better not mess this up with whatever is going on with you and the photographer.”
Alyson isn’t being a bitch, but the way she said the photographer pisses me off. As if she doesn’t know or remember her name. Makes me want to grab her shoulders and shake them. Get in her face and hiss Cora’s name. But I don’t.
“I won’t,” I promise. And I mean it.
As much fun as it is messing with Cora, I won’t jeopardize my contract with the magazine. It has taken me years to get to this point in my career. No way I will ruin it overnight.
But I would be a liar if I said this shoot won’t be a challenge. Without a doubt, it will be the most difficult shoot of my career. It will push me to the edge mentally. Have me second-guessing my every move. Have me wondering if I am being crazy. And I have done some crazy shit.
All the back and forth between us today, I had to have made a dent in her fortress. Chipped at her armor.
“Don’t make me babysit you,” Alyson threatens. “I don’t like being that kind of agent.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Alyson rises from the couch, smoothing her skirt. “Also, I booked a shoot with you and Layla. It’s a week after we fly back to Los Angeles. Okay? I’ll leave you alone for the night. Be good.” She points a finger at me. “And I’ll see you in the morning.”
I salute her. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shakes her head at me and walks out the door, taking her cloud of tension with her.
As soon as she is gone, I collapse on the couch. This week will be tough, but I don’t have a choice. I made a commitment. One I have no intention of backing out on. One that will take me to the next level. Cora is an unexpected surprise, but one I can handle. I just need to apply the techniques taught to us in school. Meditation. Shaking off self-doubt. Being my own cheerleader. Clearing my thoughts of everything not pertaining to the moment.
At times, it can be taxing to separate reality from the portrayal of who you are in an advertisement. Like an actor, I have to be whoever the people want me to be. Look the part. Play the role. Make the men want to mimic me. Make the women want to date me. And with Cora being around, I suspect I will be acting a lot.
And the most straining part of this shoot—not staring at her. Fuck. It is incomprehensible how much I have missed her. Beyond wrong to sit there and have absolute silence between us. A lot can be said in silence, but we were not those people years ago.
But isn’t that how most shoots go? The only talking occurs when the photographer gives direction or I give feedback. With her, though, it is different. The silence a heavy burden crushing my windpipe.
Click. Click.
The shutter snap will repeat in my sleep tonight. The click sounded so many times today. More than I recall from other shoots. She must have taken enough photos to fill a terabyte of memory. And if honest, I hope she keeps the photos somewhere sacred after I leave.
I wish I had current photos of her. Maybe I will snag one—or a few—before I leave. There has to be a way to sneak in a photo with my phone.
Tomorrow, we will be on the pristine sands of Clearwater Beach. The beach is one of the best parts of this trip. The sand, the sunsets, the salty air. And after everything today, I don’t want to be holed up in my hotel room. I need to get out of here. As enticing as the beach is, I need some other form of release.
Reaching for my cell, I type out a new message.
Gavin: Hey bro, want to grab a bite?
Micah: I’m down. Where?
We pick a bar between the beach and his place and agree to meet in an hour. I riffle through my suitcase, toss the designer’s pieces in the box they came out of, and head for the shower.
As the hot spray rains between my shoulder blades, I hang my head and wonder how I am going to survive after my time here. Leaving the first time was hard enough. Leaving again will be hell.
Chapter Five
Cora
My purse hits the floor with a loud thump, startling Luna as she weaves between my legs. “Sorry, pretty girl.”
I bend down and run a hand over her soft, black fur and she purrs in return. Scooping both hands under her belly, I lift and flip her belly-side up, doting kisses on her. She is the sweetest cat I have owned, never wanting to leave my side. She also serves as the world’s best cuddle buddy.
As I land on the couch with her snuggled in my arms, my phone rings from my abandoned purse. Ugh. I just want to unwind and get some sleep before tomorrow. No rest for the weary.
I set Luna down and kiss her head before I snag my phone from my purse. Shelly.
“Hey, girl,” I answer.
“You sound beat. Want me to let you go?”
“Long day, and no. What’s up?”
“You’ll never guess who’s in town,” she says in a rush. If we were on FaceTime right now, I would see her jumping up and down, hands flailing. That’s just Shelly. A big ball of unending enthusiasm.
“Bet I can.” I burst her bubble of excitement.
“Wait, wha—?” she stumbles. “How did you know?” She actually sounds bummed to not break the news to me.
I huff into the phone, wishing to escape all things related to Gavin Hunt. But as usual, everything cycles back to him. “Because he’s the model I’m currently shooting.”
A shriek tears through the line and I hold the phone away from my face until she stops. “Shut the fuck up. Are you serious? How weird. Or maybe not. Is it weird?”
What is she talking about? “Huh?” It is all I can say.
“You know it’s not his fault he moved to California years ago. Maybe fate has found a way to bring you back together,” she says, words all dreamy.
Although s
he has been single for some time, Shelly is adamant about the topic of love and fate and how everything happens for a reason. I have lost count of how many times she has told me I will find my Prince Charming one day soon.
While she can’t see me, I roll my eyes. Fate. What a load of bullshit. If fate existed, things between Gavin and I wouldn’t have ended how they did. He would have done more. Would have at least tried.
“I know it wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t even try for long. It’s like he gave up or caved or moved on. Like I no longer mattered. It…” I will not fucking cry. Nope, I refuse to shed another tear over Gavin Hunt. I tip my head back and blink in rapid succession. I inhale deep and continue. “It hurt seeing him today. He acted as if nothing existed between us before. He’s not the same Gavin I once knew.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m sorry if him being here is digging up old memories. But you know something?” Shelly’s voice escalates in pitch the more she talks.
“What?”
“I love you,” she croons, wrapping me in a virtual hug. “And we should go out and grab dinner and a couple drinks. You should be celebrating your new contract. Not worrying over Gavin or the past.”
As much as I would love to lay in bed, watch reruns of Supernatural and eat leftover Chinese food with Luna at my side, how can I say no to Shelly. Still somewhat early, it would be nice to chat with her about how I am in emotional overload right now. Shelly’s the only person who knows everything there is to know about me. She is the one person I can pour my heart out to and she won’t judge me.
“I can never say no to you. Where should we go? No karaoke. I’m still having strange dreams from the last one.”
Her laughter pierces the air, one I would recognize in a room full of strangers. “We can hit that Thai and sushi restaurant on Patricia. I’ve been craving green curry for days.”
Now it is my turn to laugh. Not only does my best friend know me well, she also caters to my hankering for Asian food. I also believe I have made her as equally addicted, which warms my heart.
Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) Page 3