“Shoot.”
He exhaled again briefly. “Do I have a chance?”
Dan was smart enough not to ask what he was talking about. “If the amount of ice cream in our freezer at the studio is any indication, I’m gonna say yeah. That and the fact that we’ve started listening to jazz now. I think you’re good, man. Give it time. We just barely got her back to drinking cocoa again.”
Hunter closed his eyes and forced a painful swallow. “She stopped?”
“Man, girls and their heartbreak are all kinds of messed up. I could write a book, but I’d wind up dead. She’s getting there, I promise. We’re looking out for her, and the more she works, the better she gets.”
“Let’s get her some projects she can really sink her teeth into,” Hunter suggested, clearing his throat.
“That’s the plan. Okay, gotta get off before the spies see me talking to you crazy Russians. I’ll be in touch.” Dan didn’t wait for him to say anything else and hung up.
Hunter propped his elbows on the desk and folded his hands in front of his mouth, losing himself in thought and memories. He could give Mal time and space, as much as she needed, but how long would it take? How much could he take?
But as long as those closest to Mal thought there was a chance, he would continue to hope.
His office phone rang, and he answered it after a moment. “McIntyre … Travis, hey, thanks for calling me back. Two questions: Does your brother-in-law still play poker with a VP of the USO? And do you still have your British Columbia properties?”
Chapter 18
Another two weeks later
“England? Like Prince William England?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “He’s married, Taryn. And a father.”
“Yeah, and I’m obsessed with his wife. So what?” She turned back to Mal with an excited current visibly running through her. “When?”
Mal smiled and put her pen behind her ear, grabbing a cracker from the sleeve on her desk. “Not for a few months. We’re still in the planning stages, but I’ll definitely be out there for Remembrance Day in November. Poems about Flanders fields, poppies, the whole bit.”
Taryn gawked. “I thought you were just doing the project for the USO!”
“So did I. But someone told someone else, and I got a call from London about doing the same thing for them. We’re all feeling patriotic lately, I guess.”
“Unbelievable,” Taryn breathed. She sank into a chair, then leaned forward. “Will you see Prince Harry?”
“I thought you wanted Prince William.” Dan laughed from his desk.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Taryn snapped, not looking at him.
Mal grinned and shook her head. “Except he’s taken now, too. And I have no idea. Like I said, still in the planning stages.”
“This is going to be huge, Mal,” Dan told her, growing serious and sitting up straighter. “Like massively huge.”
She couldn’t hide the glee she’d been feeling for the last week and a half. “I know. And it’s going to be awesome.”
“How’d you even get the USO anyway?” Taryn asked, reaching for her open Tupperware of veggies and crunching on a carrot stick.
Mal thought back, trying to remember the details. “The call I got from the guy with Canadian properties after he saw the Lake Lure stuff. He knows someone in the USO, and they mentioned a project they were trying to get off the ground, and he mentioned me. They liked the portfolio, and we had a video meeting to discuss their vision and what I could do. Honestly, it came together so easily, I thought something was up at first, like maybe Jenna or Tom had flagged them down.”
Dan looked surprised and laced his hands behind his head. “Really?”
She nodded, brushing cracker crumbs off her jeans. “But then they started talking about my Rustic Americana project and specific shots there and details about some Lake Lure shots, and I settled down. Even if someone did point a finger at me, they like what they see, so who am I to complain?”
“Seriously.” Taryn sighed, now munching on celery. “Can I come to England?”
Mal smirked and spun back to her computer screen. “We’ll see. If Dr. Durango doesn’t mind you guys missing class, we’ll talk.”
“He won’t mind,” they said together.
She laughed and went back to editing her Maine shots. It was easy work; she’d enjoyed that trip. She made a mental note to visit Maine in every season to experience it.
With a trip to Canada in August, England in November, and scattered trips across the US in between, she was going to be working nonstop until Christmas. It was going to be a grind, but she could not have been more excited about it. She was getting paid to do the projects she wanted to do, which was all she had ever wanted. She still did some of the smaller jobs on the side to keep those skills from getting rusty, but big projects on the horizon made everything better.
Reed Summerfield emailed every week with pitches, trying to convert her to some Hollywood stuff, and so far she’d managed to put him off. He didn’t seem to mind, but his ideas were getting better and better. And he never said anything that could be construed as flirtatious or suggestive. For Hollywood’s biggest playboy, he was surprisingly focused on business with her. Because of that, in addition to his ideas, she was almost tempted to give in. But she always said no, though she didn’t know why.
“What did Jenna want yesterday?” Taryn asked as she flipped through the latest People magazine, swirling her chair slightly so it squeaked.
“A favor,” Mal replied with a hint of a smile. “They’re having a charity gala for kids with cancer in Chicago in a just over a week, and the photographer they hired backed out.”
The squeaking stopped, and Mal looked over to see Taryn eyeing her.
“What?” Mal asked.
Taryn narrowed her boldly shadowed eyes. “You don’t do stuff like that.”
Mal shrugged, her cheeks reddening. “Yeah, but it’s Jenna. And it’s Chicago. And that cousin you mentioned on the way to Lake Lure, the one that died? Her name was Emily. She was a second cousin to us. Her dad was a cousin of our dads, and we grew up together. It was awful when she died, and I’ve never forgotten it. So when Jenna asked if I’d do this for her foundation …”
“That’s so sweet, Mal,” Taryn said with a tender smile. Then her eyes narrowed. “Black tie?”
“Yep.”
“What are you wearing?”
Mal burst out laughing and shook her head, going back to her computer. “White blouse and pencil skirt. I’m working, not a guest. There’s no Designer Day in real life.”
“But you got to keep those dresses!”
“No.”
Taryn made a noise of disgust. “You’re no fun. At least wear some sexy shoes.”
“We’ll see.”
Ashley’s voice broke in. “I’m sorry, Miss Hudson?”
Mal sighed and turned to face the girl in the doorway. “Ashley, what did I tell you to call me?”
Ashley’s face flushed, and she smiled, tucking a strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. “Sorry. Mal. There’s a client for you.”
“More fun?” Dan asked with a flash of his grin, chewing on a coffee straw. “Please say we’re going somewhere cool.”
“Shut up!” Taryn hissed, flipping his hat off his head. “Best behavior unless you don’t want to go to England.”
Dan glared at her and took the straw out of his mouth. “Just for that, I’m not buying you dinner tonight.”
Taryn stuck her tongue out at him, but Mal caught the wink too. So they were still together. Interesting. They never discussed it, and as long as the workplace was semiprofessional, she really didn’t care. Mal turned back to Ashley, who looked as confused by them as ever. “Who is it? Did they say?”
Ashley looked down at the notepad in her hand. “Audrey McIntyre.”
There wasn’t a sound in the room. No chair squeaked, no one breathed, and even the fridge in the back stopped humming.
&n
bsp; Mal swallowed with difficulty. “Take a message.”
Ashley winced and tugged at her denim skirt. “Um, I can’t. She’s here … like, out front.”
If the utter silence could have gone more silent, it did then.
Mal inhaled, exhaled, and leaned back slightly in her chair. She could do this. She’d thought long and hard about Lake Lure and what had happened there, and she’d realized that she had been wrong in thinking that Hunter hadn’t really loved her. She wasn’t dumb enough, or open enough, to get played like that. It had to have been real—just not real enough.
Whatever hurt he’d caused her, Hunter McIntyre was a good man and wouldn’t have jerked her around for fun. She could claim he had all she wanted, but that would be a lie. She had been hurt, incredibly so, but the hurt was fading. Reality and acceptance were setting in. He hadn’t meant to hurt her; he’d just done what she had expected all along. He’d gone with what fit into the world where he belonged. And she couldn’t blame him for that.
It still hurt, and she still cried sometimes, but it was okay. She could still remember the details, letting the faint echo of emotions come out, and not hate him. In all honesty, she would never be able to hate him.
Besides, he’d stopped calling altogether now. It was really over. She could move on.
“Mal,” Taryn murmured, but Mal shook her head and held out a hand.
“Did she say what she wanted?” Mal asked, keeping her voice level.
Poor Ashley had no idea what was going on and was suddenly nervous. “Um, she had some questions and concerns about the Rambling Ridge Resort pictures.”
Ah, so Audrey had a stake in the company too. That made sense. This was business. Business she could handle.
Mal nodded and gave a faint smile. “Okay. Tell her I’ll be right out.”
Ashley sagged in relief and left the room.
Slowly, Mal got out of her chair and went over to the new mirror in the bathroom. She looked professional today—dark-wash jeans, white tank with a pale-pink shrug, minimal jewelry, decent job on the makeup. Hair was pulled back in a loose, messy bun, but it looked clean enough. She was a photographer, not a CEO. Besides, there was no need to worry about what Audrey McIntyre thought of her.
Right?
She exhaled a short breath, walked back into the office space, avoided looking at Taryn and Dan, both of whom said her name, and headed up to the front of the studio, heart pounding against her ribs.
Audrey McIntyre, looking as perfect as she had in photos, sat in one of the waiting-room chairs, looking out the window, lean legs crossed, gray heels bouncing slightly. She wore a heather-gray knee-length dress, Ralph Lauren from the looks of it, and it fit her perfectly. One leg bore a faint but extensive scar that went behind her knee, and Mal’s throat caught at the sight.
She wasn’t hiding it. She didn’t think she needed to.
And she didn’t.
“Miss McIntyre,” Mal said with a smile, coming more fully into the room.
Audrey turned and grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. “Miss Hudson.” She stood and reached out a hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Call me Mal, please,” Mal told her, taking her hand.
Again with the perfect smile. “Then call me Audrey.”
Mal nodded even as her stomach clenched. “Audrey, then. Please sit.”
“Actually,” Audrey said hesitantly, “would you mind if we went out to talk? I’m starving, and that deli across the street looks so good.”
That was an unusual request, but Mal wouldn’t insult her by saying no. “Sure, let me grab my purse.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Audrey said with a flick of her hand. “I’ll cover you. It’s the least I can do.”
Mal’s arm hairs stood on end. “For what?” she asked, trying not to let the strain come through in her voice.
Audrey gave her a look. “One, for insisting we meet there so I can stuff my face. Two, you had to endure a contract at Lake Lure with my brother calling the shots. I’m positive I owe you lunch at least.”
Mal exhaled in relief, wondering how much of that showed. She forced a light laugh. “Well, if you insist …”
They made their way across the street to the deli, made their orders, and sat at a table outside.
“I hope this is good,” Audrey said as she sat, adjusting the loose cap sleeves of her dress. “But I’d still eat it if it wasn’t. I’m famished.”
Mal smiled and wondered how Audrey could be so open and easy when her brother wasn’t. “It is good,” she assured her. “You’ll like it. Okay, so you wanted to talk about the Lake Lure pictures?”
Audrey sat up. “Yes. First of all, I saw the proofs, and they were fantastic. I mean, you really got the feel of the place. You can see why it means so much to us, right?”
Mal nodded, smiling at the memories. “I can. Your brother told me about your family’s history there, and he knew all the best places for me to get shots.”
Audrey grinned and ran her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, Hunter’s obsessed with it. But since he will keep the resort running just as it is, we let him go crazy there, and he’s incredibly good at it.”
There didn’t seem to be a need to answer that, so Mal just smiled tightly.
“I did have one thing I need to ask you,” Audrey said, turning serious.
A thousand warning alarms went off in Mal’s head. She forced her face to relax and crossed her ankles. “Oh?”
Audrey nodded once. “All the pictures I saw were of nature and the views and the houses, which are fantastic for the resort, and I’m hanging some in my house.” She made a face, as if she wasn’t sure if she could actually ask the question. “Do you happen to have any with Hunter in them?”
Mal had chosen that moment to take a drink of her lemonade and subsequently choked. “I’m sorry?” she coughed.
Audrey pressed a hand to her forehead and winced. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. What I mean is, I am trying to think of what to get him for his birthday in September, and I thought if there were any pictures from your shoot where he’s in his favorite place in the world, he might like that.” She gave Mal a desperate, apologetic look. “I am hopeless when it comes to getting him presents and—”
“I’ll see what I have,” Mal overrode, still coughing.
Audrey smiled. “Thanks.” She straightened up even more and said, “Also, I had a concern about the …” She stopped and suddenly slumped back in her chair. “Hang it, I’m done pretending. I didn’t come here about the resort photos, although it’s not a bad idea to get a picture with Hunter, assuming he sat still long enough for one.”
Mal raised her brows in surprise and sat back herself. “You’re not?”
Audrey shook her head quickly with a smile. “I have absolutely nothing to do with that place from the business side of things. I think I still have a few shares, but that’s an inheritance thing and a technicality at best.”
Mal ought to have been upset or concerned or at the very least wary, but instead she felt amused—and a little confused.
“I’m in Seattle,” Audrey continued, taking a sip of her water, “and I’m heading down to Florida to spend some time with some girlfriends—adult spring break, if you will. I know, we’re nuts, but it is what it is. I had to lay over in Denver, and when I heard that, I changed my next flight back a few hours so I could come out and see you.”
“Me?” Mal asked in surprise, folding her arms. “Why?”
Audrey shrugged, smiling. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I saw the proofs. Those were amazing. Hunter said you were great to work with and would go places in the world, and Hunter never praises anybody. He doesn’t even like people, really.”
Mal laughed out loud at that. She knew that about Hunter; it was his trademark. It was nice to know he hadn’t been playing at that either.
“You wanted to come see if he was lying?” Mal asked, truly smiling at this intriguing woman.
Audrey grinne
d at her. “Well, Hunter’s not a liar, unless it involves presents. Mostly, I wanted to meet you. I like art, majored in art history, and I’m a curator of sorts for various exhibitions in Seattle, so any good connections I can make, I do!”
Mal was shaking her head, unable to stop smiling. “You’re trying to soften me up for something, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “If my cousin Abby and I happen to have a project for capturing the history and quintessential essence of Seattle through photography, so what?”
Mal threw her head back and laughed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Seriously?”
“Hypothetically,” Audrey corrected. “And it could potentially, hypothetically involve some great food places. If you’re a foodie like I am.”
With perfect timing, their food arrived, and Audrey’s eyes went wide as her sandwich was placed before her.
Mal thanked the waiter, then looked at her companion. “What?” she asked, seeing her expression.
Audrey met her eyes, still looking stunned. “You didn’t tell me it was this huge!”
“I did too. I told you to get a half sandwich, but you insisted you were starving.”
“I’m gonna die.” She took a bite of the sandwich and moaned as she chewed. “Oh, but what a way to go.”
“You did what?”
“I went to Denver before I came here. There aren’t direct flights from Seattle to Atlanta.”
Hunter pressed the heels of his hands against the side of his head and turned to the window, trying to control his frantic breathing. “That part I got,” he ground out, his jaw aching. “Explain yourself.”
“Oh,” his sister said, as if she didn’t know. “I stopped off and had lunch with Mal. I like her a lot. You didn’t tell me nearly enough about her.”
“Shasta,” he hissed, his hands turning into fists.
“What did you say?”
He stopped, squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed. “Nothing.”
“No, I heard you. You said shasta. That’s not even a word.”
Love Out of Focus Page 21
