"It might be one morning for the client, but there's more to it for me. Photoshop and everything. Most of my work happens after the shoot. Who's it for, though?"
"Her name is Suzanne Fredrick," Jake said. "She designs swimsuits. She's the wife of one of the lawyers at the firm. She created this line of swimsuits—men's and women's. They're convinced it's the next big thing. Anyway, Suzanne's putting together a portfolio to pitch to stores, and she asked me to model a couple of the men's suits for her. She was talking about a finding photographer, and I told her I knew somebody."
"I thought you weren't going to work at that firm anymore," I said.
"I'm not, but I'm still friends with all those people. I still correspond with them."
"What made her think you did modeling?" I asked, thinking about what it would be like to work with him.
Jake shrugged casually. "I went to a cookout they had last year, and she mentioned it to me then. I didn't think anything of it until she called me yesterday saying she was ready to move forward with it and asked if I was still interested."
I breathed a little laugh. "She randomly saw you at a cookout without a shirt on, and now you're a swimsuit model," I said as more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah," he said hesitantly, humbly. "She said she wants to showcase eight suits—just a picture or two of each. I think she's using four models and we're each wearing two of them." He paused and shrugged again. "Way back when she first mentioned it to me, we talked about the fact that I knew a photographer. It had been so long that I honestly didn't expect to hear from her about it until she called me yesterday. She asked me for your number, but I didn't give it to her yet. I wasn't sure if you wanted to do it. I told her I'd see you today and ask you."
I glanced at him, and he smiled. His dimples showed, and while I would normally look away, being sick and dazed got the best of me, and I sat there and stared at them.
"I think you should do it," he urged, reaching out to gently poke me on the side of the leg. "I know you do babies mostly now, but I think it'd be a good opportunity for you. Suzanne and Sam know a lot of people in Miami. Who knows what connections you could make."
I was so focused on looking at Jake that I had no idea what he was talking about for a second.
Oh, yes, the portfolio.
"When is it?" I asked.
"A couple of weeks. It's not set in stone yet, but Suzanne's got the swimsuits mostly done and she's ready to schedule everything." He patted his stomach. "I'm glad I have a couple weeks to tighten everything up."
I rolled my eyes at him, knowing he was as hard as a rock under there.
"She had the names of a few other photographers as a backup plan, so you should really talk to her soon if you're interested. Like today."
I had glanced at my soup, but I looked at Jake again when he said that. "I can't even think straight today."
He shrugged. "What's there to think about? Two-thousand for a few hours work. It's a no-brainer. I thought for sure you'd hug me and tell me how awesome I was for hooking you up."
"It's hardly gonna be a few hours work," I said. "But you are awesome," I added. "I really appreciate you thinking of me. It's a good opportunity."
He rubbed my back. "I always think about you K.K. I'm sorry you're sick. I hate to see you feeling like this."
"It's fine," I said. "I'm on day two, so I'm sure I'll be better soon." I took another sip of my soup, thankful for the warm liquid that soothed my throat.
"So, you'll do it?" he asked.
I glanced at him. His baby blues were perfectly shaded behind those dark lashes, and he was giving me a hopeful smile that melted my heart. There was no way I could resist. I would have agreed to do the darn thing for free with him looking at me like that. I would have paid Suzanne instead of her paying me.
"Sure," I said with a resigned, tired smile.
Jake pumped his fist. "Awesome! I'm gonna text Suzanne and let her know." He leaned to the side and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
"Right now?" I asked as Jake began pushing buttons.
"Yeah, I told you she was ready to set everything up. She's planning on calling another photographer if she doesn't hear from me soon."
"Can you tell her I'm sick today?" I asked, already dreading a phone call. "Tell her I'll do it, but it'll be tomorrow before I can talk. At least tomorrow."
"She's…sick… she's… eating… soup… and… wearing… Mickey… Mouse… pajamas… at… the… moment…" Jake spoke in that slow, measured tone that meant he was typing the words he said.
"You're not writing that," I said, leaning to the side to nudge him without actually making contact.
"I told her you said you'd do it and that you'd call her tomorrow to get all the details."
"What if I'm already booked on whatever day she wants to do it?"
"Y'all'll work it out," Jake said easily, setting his phone down. "She's cool. I just texted her to set her mind at ease since I knew she wanted to talk to you today." He paused for a few seconds before gesturing toward the living room. "When'd you get that?"
"Yesterday," I said, knowing he was referring to the new, huge, sixty-gallon aquarium in the living room.
"Abigail?" he asked.
It was a valid assumption since my best friend and long-time roommate was a marine biologist who maintained aquariums for a living. I nodded as I set the spoon in the almost-empty bowl and pushed it away. That opened up a nice spot of countertop in front of me, and I used my arm as a pillow, resting my head on it. Jake smiled at me and rubbed my back again.
"I should probably leave you alone so you can get some rest."
"It's okay," I said, since it was instinct to say or do anything to get him to stick around. "One of her clients had to move," I added, explaining about the new fish tank. "They had two tanks, and they gave them both to Abigail. She took the other one to Ash's place and gave this one to me. She was all excited about it. I think she feels bad about moving out and doesn't want me to be lonely. It's hard to believe Friday's her last night living here."
"I know. I can't believe they're getting married. Seems like they met like two days ago."
"I think it was eight months."
"Really? That long?" He glanced at me, and I nodded. "Did it come with fish?" he asked.
"Yeah, it came with everything. Fish and rocks. Even food. Abigail said I might lose a couple of them with the stress of the move, but they're all makin' it so far. She said she'd come by to help me take care of it."
"Is it freshwater?" he asked.
I nodded again, still feeling slow and sleepy. "The other one was saltwater. Abigail let me chose which one I wanted, but she said this one would be easier to take care of."
"What kind of fish?"
"Cichlids."
"Where are they?"
"Hiding in the rocks. They're still a little skittish from the move. You can turn the light on, if you want. They probably could use a little food, too."
Jake stood up and headed toward the aquarium. I watched him walk over there, feeling numbly thankful that I was too zonked to really appreciate his perfect, athletic body. I could appreciate that he was a perfect male specimen, but my body was not capable of feeling the same level of butterflies as usual. Jake felt around the edge of the light until he found the switch.
"Oh wow," he said taking a step back to inspect the tank now that it was illuminated. He ducked, peering into it. "That's awesome. Oh, I see a few of them behind there. They look scared."
He glanced at me, and I nodded. "They're still pretty freaked out. They'll come out if you feed them, though."
"Is the food in here?" he asked, gesturing to the cabinet that the tank was sitting on. I nodded, and he opened the door. Besides the food, there were only a few things in the cabinet—a filter, a scrubber, and a bottle of liquid water conditioner, so it was pretty self-explanatory.
I watched as he pulled out the container of fish food. "Is this it?" he asked, holding it up.
Jake carefully measured a level spoonful of the small pellets, but he was in for a rude awakening when he realized that he had neglected to open the glass top of the aquarium. He had to put the spoon back in the container, open the top, and again measure the food.
Normally, I would have stepped in, warning him that he needed to open the aquarium top first, but this time, I stayed quiet and watched him figure it out on his own. I was zonked. I had already been talking a lot, and my throat needed a rest. I just sat there watching him with my arms resting on the counter and my chin resting on my arms.
Jake sprinkled the food along the length of the aquarium and stepped back to watch them eat.
"Oh my gosh, how many are there?" he asked without looking at me.
"We counted eighteen. One of them's an algae eater."
"You mean with the suction-cup mouth?" He looked over his shoulder at me, and I smiled and nodded sleepily. "You better get well soon with Abby's wedding coming up."
Jake stashed the container of food under the cabinet, and headed in my direction, smiling and tilting his head at me like he was about to tell me goodbye.
"Are you doing the photography?" he asked.
"I already said I would. You already texted her."
"No, I mean at Abby's wedding. Are you doing the photography at the wedding?"
I shook my head. "We decided I should just relax and enjoy it."
"Well, that's good, just in case you're still not feeling well."
"Hopefully, I'll be better by then."
Jake must have been moved by how groggy I was because he came right up to me and took me into his arms. It was pretty typical for us to give each other a quick hug goodbye, but his embrace this time was tentative, gentle, and… more… sincere than usual. Jake Reynolds took a moment and held me in his arms, and I rested my forehead on his chest. I breathed in the clean smell of him. It was a stark contradiction to the achy yuckiness that was going on in my head and throat.
"I don't want to make you sick," I said, facing downward. The words came out of my mouth, but I didn't move to break the contact.
"You won't," he said. "I'm not worried about it."
His hand moved gently up and down my back in the comforting manner of a brother or dad.
"Thanks for the soup," I said. "It was really good."
"You're welcome. I'm glad you liked it." He patted my back. "I'm also glad you're doing the job. It might have been a little selfish of me to ask because I've never done any modeling, and I knew I'd be more comfortable having you there."
"All you'll have to do is just stand there and look like Jake," I said.
I felt his chest shake as he chuckled. "I always look like Jake."
I shrugged. "Then, you'll do fine."
"See? You're making me feel better already."
I smiled even though I was looking down.
"Call me if you need anything, K.K.," Jake added, giving my back a few last pats.
"I will," I said.
Chapter 3
I didn't end up going to the doctor for my cold.
I woke up Thursday morning feeling slightly better, and the pattern continued Friday morning. By Saturday, when the wedding rolled around, I was mostly human.
I still wasn't feeling great, but I had recovered enough to fake it so that no one knew anything was wrong.
Abigail and Ash's wedding ceremony took place in a huge tunnel at Miami's largest public aquarium. It was an intimate ceremony with only family and close friends. The underwater theme made the whole thing a bit surreal.
It was a beautiful idea for a wedding, but it only lasted about twenty minutes from start to finish, and before I knew it, I was headed home. I had been friends with Abigail for a long time, and I knew most everyone there, but I opted to leave right after the ceremony so that I could save my energy for the reception party. This event would take place later that evening at one of the city's most prestigious country clubs.
Boy, was I glad I had made the decision to save my energy. I had been involved with the wedding planning every step of the way, and I knew Abigail and Ash were expecting a big turnout for the party, but I wasn't quite prepared for the number of people I encountered when I arrived.
I got to the country club ten minutes early, thinking I would waltz in before everyone else and take a few candid pictures of Abigail and Ash getting their pictures taken by the other photographer before the guests arrived, but I realized quickly that those plans were laughable. The parking lot was already crowded, and people were arriving in droves right alongside me. I parked and walked in by myself.
Part of me regretted the decision not to come with friends or bring a date, but I knew that feeling would go away once I made it inside and connected with Abigail and the rest of my friends.
Plus, I knew I'd be glad I had my own transportation if I started feeling ill from the cold. I could hear loud music before I even stepped into the room, and I was thankful that I had made decisions like these, and other good choices like dressing comfortably.
I had on a sheer, dressy romper. The pants were long, but the top was sleeveless. It was perfect for any season in Miami. I bought something else for Abigail's wedding, but I ended up changing my mind at the last minute and going with my old faithful romper. I had purchased it a year before, and I was always confident and comfortable wearing it.
I wasn't feeling a hundred percent, so I wanted to give myself any advantage I could. I wore matching black leather sandals that were also old-faithfuls. I tied my long blonde hair into two messy buns on the nape of my neck. The whole get-up was dressy enough for a wedding reception, but extremely cool (temperature-wise) and easy to wear.
"I thought you had the night off!" Abigail's dad was standing at the entrance of the room, smiling at me as I made my way in that direction. I knew what he was talking about, but he gestured to the camera that I had hanging over my shoulder just to make sure.
It was one of my smallest and most versatile camera and lens combinations. I used it all the time. It was basically surgically attached to my hand. I smiled at him and nodded as I reached out to hug him.
"I hardly go anywhere without this one," I said. "It's probably as much for me as it is for Abigail. It's my little social crutch—my date."
"Your blankie," Dylan added as I reached out to hug him. Abigail's brother seemed to get taller every time I saw him. I had to stretch up, onto my tiptoes, to hug his neck.
I laughed at the fact that he called my camera 'my blankie'. "That's exactly what it is," I said, with a giggle. "My blankie."
I took the camera off of my shoulder, and in one movement, I took off the lens cap, moved to stand between Abigail's brother and dad, and pointed the flipped-around camera at us to take an impromptu selfie. It wasn't like a phone where we could see our reflections on the screen, but I had taken enough selfies with this camera to know I was aiming properly. Abigail's dad and brother had posed for enough selfies to know they should smile when one was being taken. I could see them doing it in the distorted reflection on the end of my lens.
"The music sounds good," I said.
Abigail's dad nodded. "The band just started. This is the second song."
"I saw Mark was already here," I said. "And Avery and Callie."
"Oh yeah," Dylan agreed, nodding. "There's already a ton of people inside. I think Ash invited every classical musician in Florida, maybe even the whole east coast. And then Abigail invited everyone at work and church and everything."
I shrugged and smiled excitedly as I made my way past them toward the door. "Sounds like a party," I said.
The wall of music hit me as soon as I rounded the corner. I was instantly in a daze. I took a few steps inside, absentmindedly searching for someone I knew. I saw several friends, but I didn't rush right over to them—instead I just took my time, meandering slowly and taking everything in.
The musi
c was loud and pulsing, and I knew I would like it a lot more if I wasn't still getting over this cold. Immediately, I promised myself that I would only stay for an hour or two. I had taken some headache medicine just before I came, and I prayed that it would kick in quickly.
The band was playing I Gotta Feeling by the The Black Eyed Peas.
It sounded great, and I smiled at the festive atmosphere, but it was a far-cry from the quiet bedroom that I had been hibernating in for the last few days, and inwardly, I felt a bit overwhelmed.
I held my camera to my eye and snapped a picture of the room. Simply staring through the lens comforted me, made me breathe a little easier. I had to smile at the memory of Dylan calling it my blankie—at the moment that was exactly what it felt like.
I was still looking through my camera when two big hands came down to rest on my shoulders. I felt a little squeeze. I knew by the size and feel that it was a man, and furthermore, I instinctually knew that it was Jake. I was smiling as I put down my camera and turned to face him. The movement caused him to drop his hands, but he was going to do that anyway. Jake. Deep breath.
"I thought you weren't working tonight," he said.
I grinned and shook my head at him. "I've only been here for three seconds, and you're the second person to say that."
Unfortunately, the partial immunity I had to Jake's looks (on account of being sick) was now gone. He was wearing sharp, dark dress clothes and his light blue eyes glittered under the moving lights. He smiled at my comment, and his face shifted, revealing the perfect, symmetrical dimples in his cheeks. I felt a wave of butterflies followed by a stab of disappointment when I remembered that he was probably there with Clara.
I glanced over his shoulder, looking for her. "Did you come alone?" I asked.
"Clara's here," he said. "She went to the ladies room."
Something Precious (Miami Stories Book 3) Page 2
