Following Isaac

by McMillin, Casey

  All in all, it was a successful evening—some drinks and video games with cool girls in a great house. I was still tired from traveling and fell asleep on a couch around 1AM. I woke up at 10AM to Shane shaking my arm.

  "She's bringing us to the hotel in ten minutes," he said.

  "We have to hit the gym today."

  "It's Sunday," I moaned as I rolled over with a pillow over my head.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. "I know, but I changed my mind after I saw the room and Gail said you had to be in top form."

  "I am in top form," I said.

  "No you're not, now get your ass up."

  Just then, the light came on. Myself and at least two other people groaned.

  "Come on, Isaac," Sophie said. "You guys have to get outta here. I wanna go for a run, and you promised there'd be no tears."

  I smiled as I rolled over and sat up sleepily. "Who's giving us a ride?" I asked, squinting up at her.

  "I am, but I wanna go for a run after that, so we need to get going."

  It wasn't very often that a girl talked to me like that, and it was actually refreshing.

  "He's trying to decide whether or not to feel hurt that you're not shedding tears," Shane said.

  "Oh, I'm shedding tears on the inside, believe you me. I'm relatively sure I missed my one and only chance in life to get impregnated by Isaac Charles, but I'll deal with the disappointment over time. Running helps with that."

  I liked her sense of humor, and laughed as I put on my shoes and button up shirt. The other girls were more awkward about saying goodbye than Sophie was. It was obvious that they were torn up by our departure. They were absolutely tortured with the effort to keep quiet when all they wanted to do was make plans to meet up again. Moments like those were exactly why I loved Shane's speeches. The morning after is awkward regardless of whether or not I slept with a girl. Females hate goodbyes, that's all there was to it, but the warning he issued made it a little easier.

  Sophie dropped us off at a coffee shop that was a block away from our hotel, and Shane and I got breakfast before heading back to our room. We decided to use the gym at the hotel instead of traveling to the other, nicer one Gail fixed us up with last time. I'd be in L.A. until Thursday, and would no doubt use the other gym a lot on my trip, but for today, we decided to use the one we had handy.

  Besides working out, we hung out in the room all day. I had a few acquaintances in Los Angeles, all of which would be ready and willing to meet up if I called. (In fact, some of them would likely give me a hard time if I didn't call.) But I was just in the mood to chill. That's exactly what we did all afternoon and evening Sunday.

  Monday was a different story. We were scheduled to begin shooting at 2PM, but I had meetings that morning with Gail and the photographer whose name was Johnny. Plus, I had to fit in a morning workout so I'd be looking as cut as possible for the shoot.

  The campaign we were shooting was for a men's clothing line, and I got to keep everything I modeled. I tried on some of it during the morning meetings, and was stoked about keeping it. There was also a Rolex involved in the deal, but I hadn't told Shane about that. He'd always wanted one, and I planned on giving it to him.

  We were scheduled to shoot from 2-6, but I was in the ballroom an hour early for hair, makeup, and styling. There were two female models and one other guy. I'd never worked with any of them before, but I knew who they were, and we got along well.

  The guy lived in L.A., but the girls were staying in our hotel, and I saw Shane's ears perk up from across the room when he heard them say that.

  The first shot was supposed to be me and one of the girls in front of the window but we had to skip ahead to a different one because we were missing some sort of orchid that was supposed to be in the picture.

  Because of the change of plans, I was asked to get dressed in the outfit for the second scene, which was me and the other male model standing next to each other, adjusting our cuffs and looking natural as if we were partners in crime about to take over a party.

  Garret, the other model, was just about the same height as me, and we had no trouble passing for best friends for the first shoot. We shot some with full suits on before making adjustments and gradually going for a more casual look. We were an hour into the shoot and Garret and I were in various states of undress, so to speak. We had taken off our jackets and ties and unbuttoned our shirts about halfway.

  I was in the middle of having my sleeves rolled up by one of the stylists when a girl walked across the ballroom carrying a long object that seemed heavy. Two guys followed her in, each of them carrying an armload of awkward looking covered items. I assumed it was the flower crew.

  "Take five while I speak to this person, please," Johnny said. He walked the ten feet to where the girl stopped and watched as she set down her object. "I wanted them lining the bottom of the window," he said. He seemed annoyed.

  "Yes sir, they told me," she said. "What window would you like?"

  He motioned to the one near the place she was standing, and she gave the signal for the guys to set down their loads next to it.

  "I assumed they'd be ready to go," he said, staring at the plastic packages.

  "We had your arrangement designed to your specs, but unfortunately it didn't make the trip over here. I have the same flowers, but I had to stop on the way here to pick them up. I'll have to put it together here if that's okay. I'm the one who made the first one, so I'm pretty confident I'll be out of your hair pretty quickly—maybe an hour or so."

  I'd been looking away when she spoke, but I glanced up when she finished speaking to see what Johnny's reaction would be. She glanced at me when I looked her way, but quickly focused her attention back on him.

  "That's fine. We have a bit longer where we're at, so you won't be in our way over here."

  She gave him a slight nod and set to work. There were a couple of wardrobe racks nearby, and she set up on the other side of them.

  I'd almost forgotten she was over there until we finished shooting. Johnny went straight over to see how her progress was going, and I figured I'd take a peek since I was headed that way. I finished unbuttoning my shirt on the way over there and gave it to one of the stylists who handed me a T-shirt in exchange. I pulled it over my head as I walked, and stretched it over my sides as I came around to stand behind the photographer.

  "You see why I wanted them in the picture?" Johnny asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

  "Yeah, those are cool," I said.

  The girl glanced up at me when I said it. I only caught her gaze for a split second before she looked down again, but I instantly noticed her bright eyes.

  "What kind of flower is that?" I asked, hoping to get her to look up again.

  "Orchids," Johnny answered.

  The girl started to look up—I could see her flinch, but she looked down again with a smile as soon as Johnny answered.

  "I'm almost done, and I'll take care of all this," she said, without looking up as she continued to gather some of the trash she'd spread around.

  "Thank you for making this happen so quickly," Johnny said. "I know it wasn't your fault, and you did a nice job."

  She smiled, but didn't look up as she continued tidying her area. "Thank you. You chose a great flower."

  Chapter 9

  Becca

  I got a call Monday afternoon from Bethany at Signet. "What are you doing right now?" she asked.

  "I'm going to The Crestwell later, why, what's up?"

  "All you're doing at The Crestwell is maintenance and watering, right?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Because Valerie got in a wreck and I need you to make that orchid delivery."

  "Is she okay?"

  "Yeah, but the flowers aren’t."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yeah."

  "When do they need a replacement?"

  "Now."

  "Now?"

  "They're taking a photograph of them at two o'clock."

  "T
hat's an hour from now."

  "I know. That's why I'm calling you."

  "I'd have to go to the supplier to get the flowers, and it took me two hours to do that arrangement. Can't they use something else?"

  She let out an annoyed sigh. "I told the guy we'd make it happen. Can you just help me out and go do it?"

  I couldn't believe she was acting annoyed at me when she was the one asking me to do her a favor. "I hope they know I’m not going to have it done by two o'clock. There's just no way that can happen."

  "I'll let him know you're on your way."

  "Where am I bringing this?"

  "St. Andrews—in the ballroom."

  "I'm on my way, I guess."

  "Great, I'll tell him."

  She not only didn't say thank you, but she also hung up on me. The line went blank and I scrunched up my face thinking some people had no manners.

  The Flower Pot was one of the country's largest wholesale suppliers. It was close by, but it took me forever to get there since traffic was horrendous. I easily found and purchased the same orchids and windowsill planter I worked with earlier that morning when I made the arrangement the first time.

  It was after two by the time I got to the hotel, and I was nervous about what kind of reception I'd receive since the flowers were late. The orchids were expensive and were packaged elaborately to avoid damage in transport. As a result, it took three of us to carry everything. Two of the hotel employees helped me get the packages to the ballroom. I was familiar with the place, and knew which direction to go. St. Andrews was one of our hotels, and I'd filled in for the regular girl one time when she was sick.

  I did a quick scan as I walked into the room. I was under the impression that they were taking pictures of the flowers, but this was a big-deal photo shoot. I instantly felt self-conscious. I'd scarcely even looked in a mirror all day and was in such a hurry to get the orchids, that I didn't even consider my appearance. There were about twenty people in the room, and I just put my head down and walked around to the left side where I thought I'd be out of the way. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that someone was crossing the room to speak to me, and I set down the planter I was holding so I could see where he wanted me to set up.

  "I wanted them lining the bottom of the window," he said in an agitated tone.

  "Yes sir, they told me," I said. "What window would you like?"

  He gestured to the one right next to me. "I assumed they'd be ready to go," he said.

  I really didn't feel like hearing him complain to me about something that wasn't my fault, so I tried to get across that the accident sucked for all of us and I'd do the best I could to work quickly and get out of their way. Just as I finished my explanation, a movement caught my eye. I glanced at the people standing near the middle of the room, and nearly felt my knees give out from underneath me when I saw Isaac Charles standing there, staring back at me. I returned my gaze to the hipster photographer quicker than you could say Jack Robinson. He told me something about my plan being fine. I didn't really even hear him due to the sudden pounding in my ears, but I assumed he wanted me to get to work, so that's what I did.

  Utterly mortified that I was in no state to meet him for the second straight time, I pulled my supplies over a few yards so I could work behind some racks of clothing. I was nowhere near ready to see him. I wasn't even that confident with the proper hair and makeup, and a good pair of Spanx, but right now I had none of those, and my self-assurance was out the window.

  I wanted to leave before they finished what they were doing in the middle of the room. I contemplated texting Naomi out of sheer panic, but decided I couldn't waste any time. I proceeded to work faster than I'd ever worked in my life. I was shaken, but easily put the arrangement together since I just had a practice run that morning.

  It must have been about an hour later when the photographer came over to see how I was doing. I only had a few adjustments left to make, and was relieved to have made it through. I took a few seconds earlier to pull a small compact out of my purse to make sure I didn't have a poppy seed between my front two teeth. I nervously put on some powder while I had the compact out, looking over my shoulder the whole time. After that, I went back to working like the wind and was practically done when he came over.

  Only seconds after the photographer got there, Isaac Charles walked up to stand behind him. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact.

  "You see why I wanted them in the picture?"

  I heard the photographer ask. I assumed he was talking to Isaac. "Yeah, those are cool," he said. I couldn't help myself—I looked at him when he said it. A glimpse was all I could handle before looking down. His green eyes were breathtaking. I went back to cleaning up.

  "What kind of flower is that?" I heard him ask.

  "Orchids," Johnny answered. I'd never been happier for someone else to answer a question. I continued looking down as I cleaned up my mess.

  The photographer thanked me, and I tried to be as gracious as possible without looking up.

  "Do you need help carrying it to the window?" I heard after a few seconds of silence, during which I assumed they both walked off. By instinct, I looked in the direction of the person speaking, and was stunned to see that Isaac was staring back at me.

  I smiled and tried to look away, but before I could he moved his head in such a way that told me he was trying to hold my gaze.

  "Have we met?" he asked, staring at me intently.

  I managed to look away even though it was nearly impossible with the way he was studying me.

  "Will you look at me for a second, please?" he asked.

  I never imagined he would say something like that and I regarded him with a curious expression.

  "I thought I recognized you for a second," he said.

  "Oh, no, I'm not a model. Everybody tells me I should be one, but I just don't have time."

  It was my fat girl sense of humor coming out, and he cocked his head slightly as if he didn't know how to take me. I laughed. "I'm just kidding around. We don't know each other, though. I mean, aside from me seeing you in some ads, which I don't think counts."

  "You saw me in some ads?" he asked, grinning. "Which ones?"

  "Some jeans I think."

  He looked me over one time before meeting my eyes again. I stared at him, cursing myself for being caught unprepared for the second time.

  What could I do besides be myself? I did my best to enjoy the moment for what it was worth—one last chance to be up close and personal with his flawless face. He looked like he should have been chiseled from marble. I smiled at the thought of trying to enjoy these seconds while they lasted.

  "I'll be done in about three hours," he said bringing me to the present. "Do you want to grab a cup of coffee?"

  "I'm, I have, I was," I put my hand to my chest and paused, trying to compose myself. "Are you talking to me?" I asked, like an idiot.

  He smiled and looked around at the fact that no one else was around. "Yes I am." He reached out and pinched my shirt, tugging it for a second before letting it go. "So whattya say? Do you want to get coffee?"

  I looked around as if someone might be playing a prank on me, but only for a second. "I guess so," I said, shrugging and trying to act natural. Just then, they called his name, and I jumped at the sound.

  He smiled and touched his fingertips to my forearm. "I have to go. Meet me here at six." He started to turn, but looked back at me. "What's your name?"

  "Becca."

  He smiled. "Do you know mine?"

  I nodded and his smile broadened before he took off.

  I was instantly nauseated.

  My heart was racing and I was relatively sure I was on autopilot and wouldn’t remember most of that encounter. In fact, the first thing I did was start doubting that the encounter even happened in the first place. Within a minute after he walked off, I started to question everything.

  I finished with the orchids and cleaned up my area before having someone he
lp me drag the planter in front of the window where we centered it and I made last minute tweaks on the flowers. The photographer gave me a thumbs up as I left, and I returned it like the big dork I was. I didn't even look at anyone else as I walked out; I just smiled as I stuck my thumb in the air and tried not to trip.

  I ran by The Crestwell when I left the photo shoot, and by the time I got home, I only had about an hour to get ready before I had to leave again. I thought about calling Naomi for moral support, but I was honestly scared that I dreamed the whole thing and he wouldn't be there to meet me, in which case, I'd be really embarrassed for having my hopes up.

  I decided not to tell a soul what was going on just in case it didn't pan out. I put on the outfit we bought the other day. It was perfect weather for the sweater, and I liked how it fit me. I managed to do a fair job on my makeup, but wasn't sure what to do with my hair. I had mostly-straight, nondescript, brown hair that I brushed into a messy bun on the back of my head. It wasn't salon quality, but at least that old, unwanted hair color was long gone. It was as good as could be expected with short notice. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wishing I had time to get a little skinnier before this happened.

  The whole process of getting dressed and driving back to St. Andrews was surreal. I doubted the reality of it so much, that by the time I got there, I was relatively sure I heard him wrong and I was about to be embarrassed. I walked through the lobby and straight to the hallway leading to the ballroom. I tried to stroll casually since I was already feeling breathless and I didn't want to make matters worse.

  I stopped at one set of doors that led to the ballroom. I could see from the hallway that all the doors were closed, and I just didn't have it in me to open one of them. I hesitated for what must have been a full minute before deciding to go back into the lobby to think about it instead of standing there in the hallway.

  I sat on a leather couch in the lobby for fifteen long minutes before deciding to call it a night. I walked out the front doors of St. Andrews and onto the sidewalk that lead to the parking garage where I'd parked.