by Heller, JB
I’m pretty sure she won’t like the scruff on my face either, but I really don’t care. She’s making me do this damn thing, so I’m doing it my way.
Ducking back into the bathroom, I quickly run some gel through my hair and decide I look good enough.
Five minutes later, I’m standing outside the gallery, staring at the sign that displays what all this fuss is about.
This particular show, Moments of Beauty, is by far my most popular and most requested. The centerpiece changes each time we open, but they’re all from the same series of images.
It still feels weird when people call me Hadley, but I’ve been going by my middle name since branching out on my own.
I take a deep breath and start for the glass doors that lead to what’s sure to be another evening of fending off cougars.
As I reach for the handle, a guy grabs my arm. “Hey, man, you can’t just walk in there. You have to be on the list. This is a private event.”
I look down at the guy’s hand, still on my arm, then back to his face, and raise a brow.
He drops my arm and shrugs. “You can’t go in, dude. It’s VIP or some shit.”
Chuckling, I say, “I know. Trust me, I’m on the list.”
The guy scoffs. “Yeah, sure you are.”
Just as I’m about to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean, Bee comes bursting through the glass doors behind me. “There you are! You said twenty minutes. It’s been half an hour!”
The guy’s face pales. “Uh …”
Bee eyes him then me. “First, why are you detaining the main attraction of this event?” she asks the guy.
His eyes bulge. “You’re the photographer, dude?”
I nod. “That’d be me.”
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.
Bee turns her blazing eyes back on me. “What have you done to that suit?”
I smile. “Nothing. It’s a nice suit. Thanks.” I wink and hold my crooked arm out for her to take, and she does, even if she is pissed with me.
“You couldn’t have at least shaved?” she mumbles as we make our way through the doors and into the gallery.
Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I tell her, “I couldn’t show you up. Dressed like that, you’re sure to have all eyes on you this evening.”
A slight blush creeps over her cheeks. “Thank you, but you’re the focus of tonight, Hux, not me.”
“Hadley could be a chick’s name, right? How about you pretend to be Hadley tonight? I think that would be a fantastic plan.”
Bee snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” She pauses when someone on the other side of the room catches her eye. “Give me a minute, will you? There are people I need to meet. Now, play nice while I’m gone.”
I watch Bee disappear into the crowd of people, and I feel so out of place.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There you are,” Bianca says from behind me.
I turn around to face her, and she smiles brightly at me. “Hi. So, where is the mysterious Hadley?” I ask. I’m getting anxious about meeting him. I don’t normally get like this. I’m outgoing and, generally, outspoken. But I can’t shake this sense that he’s important.
I’m not sure what to do with this feeling or how to stop it. I figure the best course of action is to just get this meeting over with sooner rather than later. But there’s no man by Bianca’s side. I frown and glance around her briefly. “Please don’t tell me he’s a no show.” Oh, God, he better show up. There are people here expecting to see him.
Bianca places a hand on my shoulder. “Breathe,” she says calmly, “he’s here. I left him in a corner somewhere while I came to check on you. Are you all set?”
I exhale in relief. “Oh, okay, yeah, I’m good to go. Should we do it now?”
She beams. “Yes. Now is perfect!”
Downing the rest of my champagne, I give her a nod then stride toward the small unassuming glass podium near the covered centerpiece of the exhibition. I’m dying to see it. I’ve had time to really look at each piece over the last few days, and his work is incredible. You can’t help but be moved by the beauty in their simplicity.
When I reach the podium, I take a steadying breath and turn on the little microphone. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Moments of Beauty by Hadley. I could rattle on about how captivating each individual piece here is, but I know that, like me, you’re all eager to see tonight’s centerpiece. So, without further ado, it is my honor to present to you The One, The Only.”
As I announce the name of the image, I tug on the corner of the gold curtain that covers it, revealing … me.
It’s me. I’m not looking at the camera, but I know it’s me. I know that stream. I know that moment. That moment changed my life. Emotion consumes me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t move.
My eyes roam every inch of the photo as tears fill my eyes. My chest tightens painfully, and I clutch my heart to keep it inside my body.
I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. Spinning around, I’m filled with disappointment when I realize it’s my brother.
He’s frowning down at me. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” I whisper as a rogue tear slides down my cheek and my legs weaken.
Ben’s eyes widen. “Jesus, Liza.” He wraps his arms around me before I fall. “What’s going on right now?” he whispers in my hair so as not to make a bigger scene than I probably already have.
I clutch Ben’s middle and hold him tight. I need to know he’s here, he’s real, because right now, I feel like I’ve been teleported to another time.
When I feel like I can stand on my own again, I pull away from him. “Thank you,” I say and run my hands down my now crinkled red dress that Bianca helped me pick out for tonight.
My eyes narrow. Bianca. She was awfully determined to get me to unveil that photo. I have to find her—now. Before Ben can ask me what the hell just happened, I go in search of her.
That voice. I know that voice.
My heart rate picks up, beating faster and faster the longer I hear it.
I look around, trying to find where it’s coming from, and see people crowding around the centerpiece in the middle of the gallery.
I swallow down my nerves and begin to push my way through the throng. A few people give me dirty looks, but I ignore them. Just as I reach the front row of onlookers, she turns and tugs the corner of the large gold curtain covering the photo.
This is not how I imagined this moment happening.
My palms are clammy, and a thin sheen of sweat breaks out across my brow as I wait for her reaction.
She doesn’t move—not at first. I wish I could see her face, but her back is to me. I see her reach for her heart, and I’m about to go to her when a tall guy in a tux steps up behind her and places his hand on her shoulder.
She spins around, and I see tears in her eyes right before he takes her in his arms, and she wraps hers around him and holds on tight.
A rock settles in the pit of my stomach.
Of course, she’s with someone.
I turn and cut for the exit. I can’t do this. I can’t see her with another man. It’s too much.
Before I reach the glass doors that lead to my salvation, Bee steps out in front of me.
My eyes narrow. “You did this.” My tone is flat, unyielding.
She swallows. “Yes, it, uh … it didn’t exactly go as I planned.”
“You bet your ass it didn’t!” the voice comes from behind Bee.
When Bee steps to the side and I lay my eyes on the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen, my anger washes away as quickly as it came.
We stare at each other, wordless.
She’s cut her long hair. It now rests just above her shoulders. She’s wearing a brilliant red dress that flares out and stops just above her knees. My eyes travel the length of her body, and I reacquaint myself with her soft curves.
I notice her
breathing change as she stares at me in return. Her chest heaves with each breath she draws.
Running a hand through my hair, I decide it’s now or never. “Hey, El,” I say softly.
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Hey, El.’ Are you serious?” Her voice rises with each word.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Bee says, but we both ignore her.
I shrug. “I don’t know what to say. It’s good to see you, I think?” I scratch my neck. Is it good to see her? Fuck if I know.
She steps forward, wraps one of her tiny hands around my bicep, and drags me out of the gallery. It’s weird how I can feel the heat of her hand even through the layers of my clothing.
Once the door is closed behind us, she swings around so she’s facing me again, and she’s fuming. “What the hell is that in there, Hux? Who is Hadley? What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”
Jesus, I always loved it when she said fuck, and apparently, I still do. I can’t help the small smile that picks up the corner of my lips.
Her eyes get wider. “Stop smiling!”
And I smile wider. I can’t help it. I’ve missed her.
I know she’s with someone, but fuck it, I have to hold her. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her.
At first, she stiffens, but after a moment, she relaxes and lifts her hands to the back of my shoulders and breathes what I hope is a sigh of relief.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Hmm,” she murmurs against my chest.
I don’t know how long we’ve been standing here, just holding each other, but I know my time has come to an end when she begins to pull away from me.
“Now talk, Hux,” she says, and her voice is emotionless.
It’s like a slap to the face. She’s put up a wall—just like I used to do to her. It doesn’t feel so great being on the receiving end. I rub the back of my neck with one hand and rest the other on my hip to keep from touching her again.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I tell her.
She snorts. “I’m the event coordinator at my grandparents’ hotel. How could you not know that I would be here?” she says. It’s clear she doesn’t believe me.
“I didn’t even know the exhibition was being held at Quinn Plaza until yesterday. I don’t organize the shows. It’s Bee’s … it’s Bee’s job.” And the realization that my best friend betrayed me is a knife to the gut. I swear under my breath.
“If you really didn’t know, what’s with that picture?” she says.
Both my hands are on my hips now, and I look down at my feet as they shift beneath me. “In one way or another, you’re the center of every show,” I tell her honestly.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Waiting for Eliza to speak is killing me. “Say something, please.”
When I lift my eyes, she’s just standing there, blinking at me.
“El,” I try, but she puts her hand up, cutting me off.
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore. To you, I am either Eliza or Miss Quinn.”
That hurts, but I’ll take it. “Okay,” I agree.
“Why?” she demands.
I frown. “Why, what?”
“Why am I the center of every show? You left me, remember? You walked away from me. So why am I the centerpiece? Is it some sick way of reminding yourself where you came from? Is that it?”
I’m taken aback. “What? No! Why would you even think that?”
She throws her arms in the air. “I don’t know, Hux. Or is it Hadley now? You show up after five years without so much as a phone call and tell me I’m the center of all your shows. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair again. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t know, El.” Realizing my slip, I correct myself before she has a hissy fit. “I mean, Eliza. I never expected to see you again. I didn’t think I’d ever have to explain it to you. So, I really don’t know what to tell you.”
I shake my head as my frustration builds. “You’re the center because … because you’ve always been my center. Without you, there is nothing else. Without you, none of it matters. It’s all I had left of you, those pictures. They remind me what I’m striving for, what I’ll always be striving for.” I’m panting by the time I finish my tirade, although it wasn’t supposed to be one. I was just trying to explain.
Her eyes are shining again, and it’s my fault. All I do is hurt her.
“Wh—” She clears her throat. “What are you striving for, Hux?” she asks as she runs her palms down the front of her pretty dress.
“To be better. To be worthy,” I tell her. My own emotions are becoming hard to contain, and I know I need to cut this short before I break down in front of her.
But before I can ask her to meet me tomorrow to talk about everything, the guy from earlier opens the glass door. “You okay, Liza?”
She looks at me, and the sadness in her eyes is crippling. Then, she straightens her shoulders and turns to the guy, a bright, fake smile on her face. “Yep, I was just talking to Mr. Hadley about the show. It was a little loud in there after the unveiling. We’ll be right in.”
I hate that smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice how fake it is. He just eyes her for another minute then finally nods and goes back inside the gallery.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can go in there again.”
Eliza shifts her gaze back to me and narrows her eyes. “Oh, yes you will. If I have to get through tonight, then so do you. People are counting on you. Don’t disappoint them.” Then, she walks through the glass doors, leaving me alone.
I want to hit something, or better yet, someone—that guy by her side, preferably. My hands clench into fists, and I shake them loose. This isn’t the time or place for irrational, impromptu beatdowns.
“Come on, Hux, get your shit together,” I mutter to myself then inhale a deep, fortifying breath, push the glass doors open, and take a leaf out of Eliza’s book by plastering a fake smile on my face.
A waitress crosses my path, and I don’t hesitate to take not one but two glasses of champagne and down the first immediately. I give her back the empty crystal flute and take another. “Thanks,” I murmur before I knock back the second.
Her eyes widen. “Are you okay?” she whispers.
“Nope, not at all. Thanks for asking,” I say as I take yet another flute from her tray.
“You might want to slow down, buddy. The brunette over there looks like she’s coming to skin you alive.” Then, she scurries away just as I feel Bee’s approach.
“What are you doing?” she hisses in my ear.
“I think it’s quite obvious. I’m getting drunk,” I quip.
Bee clenches her jaw as her eyes flick around the room, no doubt noting who is paying attention to this little scene. I say nothing. I’m beyond pissed at her. How could she not have at least warned me before I walked in here?
“Did you not learn anything last night?” she seethes.
I glare at her. “I’d say the situation calls for it. I’ll deal with the consequences later. After all, I just saw the love of my life for the first time in five years, and she fucking hates me. So, thanks for that.” I down another glass of champagne as I watch several emotions cross Bee’s face.
She ends on deflated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would go like this.”
I raise a brow. “And how exactly did you think it would go? She’d forgive me for walking away from her? That she’d launch herself into my arms and proclaim her undying love for me? Seriously, Bee, I’m curious. What exactly did you think would happen?”
An older man in a tux approaches from the side, and I attempt to compose myself.
“Sorry for interrupting. I’d just like to introduce myself. I’m Victor Quinn. I wanted to compliment you on your unique perspective. It hints at an appreciation beyond your years.”
&nbs
p; I’m honestly flattered. This man, El’s grandfather, is a respected name in the photography community. He features different artists and photographers in each of his hotels. His support has launched the careers of more than a few.
To have him recognize my work is … well, it’s pretty amazing. “Thank you, I’m honored.” I hold my hand out to shake his. “I’m Hux, or Hadley—whatever you’d prefer to call me, sir.”
He takes my hand in a firm shake. “Call me Victor,” he says. “It’s getting a bit late for this old man. What do you have planned for breakfast, Hux?”
His question takes me by surprise. “I, uh … no plans, sir—uh, sorry, Victor.” The champagne has already gone to my head, and I sound like a fool.
Victor grins at me. “Might want to slow down, son. I have a feeling you won’t want to be hungover for our breakfast tomorrow.”
“Our breakfast?” I ask dumbly.
His hand clasps my shoulder. “Yes, son. Meet me in the restaurant tomorrow morning at eight.” He smiles, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. “I’d consider switching to water unless you want to be nursing a hangover when I make you an offer I don’t think you’ll want to refuse,” he says with a wink, then he squeezes my shoulder twice and walks away.
I’m standing there slack-jawed when Bee erupts, “Oh, my God!”
I nod numbly. Victor Quinn wants to have breakfast with me and make me an offer I can’t refuse. Holy. Shit.
Here I am, trying not to have a panic attack, and Hux is over there, talking to my grandfather like nothing happened. Like I’m not even here. I want to know what they’re talking about, so I casually close the distance between us.
I’m eavesdropping, and I don’t even care. I only catch the end of their conversation, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. Grandfather wants to meet with Hux and—oh, no.
Grandfather has been talking about rotating the current artwork we have displayed throughout the hotel for a while now, but he hasn’t found what he wants to replace them with yet.
