Rich in Hope (Richness in Faith Trilogy Book 2)
Page 16
Ann introduces her sister. “Jenny, Stephen, this is Anastasia, my half sister. I’m sure you’re wondering where the half even comes in.” She laughs after she speaks.
I’m watching as Stephen turns around, I’m sure in an attempt to be polite, but his eyes widen somewhat as he takes in our guests.
“I prefer to be called Stace. Ann and my mother are the only people who call me Anastasia. I’m pleased to meet you both.”
“Stace. I like it.” I try to ignore how her gaze quickly sweeps from my face but lingers on Stephen’s.
“Hi.” Stephen, ever the gentleman, walks to the sisters. He politely offers his hand to Stace.
She shakes his hand. I’m surprised at how carefully I watch their interaction.
Her eyes narrow as her smile widens. “I hear congratulations are in order. So congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
I’m momentarily confused. Oh, the engagement. And they did catch us kissing. They have no idea we are pretending.
Except, I’m not sure how that last kiss happened because we weren’t in front of anybody, and there was no need to pretend at all.
If I were engaged to Stephen I would want those kind of exchanges all the time.
If.
I have to quit living in the if.
The real world is unfolding before my eyes. I have to make what I can of it. “Well, like I told Ann, the second room on the right is where you can set up base. The clothes are in there.”
“My makeup is in a case by the front door. Ready, Ann?” Stace asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be for something like this.” Ann looks directly at me. “Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind?” Her gaze cuts over toward the exotic one.
“Positive. Now scoot. We don’t want to lose the light.”
“Okay.” She shrugs as she and Stace disappear around the corner.
“Lose the light?” Stephen asks, walking to me.
I smile. “It sounds like something a photographer would say, doesn’t it?”
He laughs. “It does.”
“Her sister is beautiful, isn’t she?” Part of me hopes he throws out a lie, while the other part of me prepares for the honest truth. The fact that I don’t even know how I’ll react to his reaction of the exotic beauty makes me realize my heart is different.
It’s not indifferent anymore.
“The way the Lord has put her features together is crazy beautiful. But remember, there’s more to a person that what we see.”
Crazy beautiful? No one will ever say that about me again. My body prickles and I tap down the anger that threatens to surface at his extra-special description of Stace. Beautiful would have sufficed.
I wave him off with my hand. “I think I’ve got this. You can go and do whatever photographers do when they’re not working.”
Aware that I’ve compromised my own fate because of my jealousy, I want to take the words back. But doing so would show Stephen more of me than I want him to see.
I do need him.
In the short time I’ve been around him, I’ve come to appreciate who he is and what he has to say. He’s opened up a world that I’ve probably been around but never paid attention to.
Everything’s changed.
He catches my hand midair, weaving his fingers through mine. His hand is strong, like it’s conveying who he is and what he is about. “Nonworking photographers, at least the ones in Hampton Cove, Florida, are mesmerized by crazy beautiful blondes.”
Not letting go of my hand, he pulls me close to him. “You’ve totally captivated me, Cheetah.”
Releasing my hand, he gently grabs my shoulders, his hands slowly moving up until he’s cradling both sides of my neck. Heat explodes off every part of my body that he touches.
His gaze never leaves mine, and it’s a struggle to not close my eyes, to remove the vision of my face from my mind’s eye of how he sees me.
How can he see beauty?
“You are crazy beautiful inside and out. Don’t ever doubt it.”
“I can’t help but doubt it. I don’t see things like you do.”
“See this.”
His lips claim mine. Shots of wanting and perfection arrow through me, shattering the vision of my scar, replacing it with bright stars of wonder and a beauty I never thought I’d see again.
I kiss him with abandonment, thankful for his constant reminder of who he sees when he looks at me.
Our kiss slows.
A tender rendition of white-hot passion at its finest.
He ends our kiss, then moves his lips softly along my jaw line. He stops when he’s close to my ear.
“Do you still want me to leave?” he asks.
Leave? Oh. Yeah. I have a job to do. The job that my whole existence depends on.
This photo shoot that will make me or break me has completely been replaced by the photographer’s amazing kisses.
I’m that weak.
And undisciplined.
And crazy.
Focus!
Releasing my grip on his body, I back up, still dazed from his mouth on mine, his hands caressing my neck, his grand view of who I am.
I am nobody.
A nobody who is filled with the desire to be somebody again.
Like I used to be.
He runs his finger down my arm. “Or, I could stay. I would like to stay.”
“If you would, please.” I need any help he can give me, and I’m possessed with enough desperation to warrant begging if I have to.
“I would. You feeling comfy with Millie?” He nods towards his camera which sits on the island.
“As comfortable as I can feel at this point. I’m not overly confidant if that’s what you mean.”
“No. Just making sure you’re feeling all right about it all.”
I grab Millie and drape her over my neck. “I’m not feeling all right about anything, honestly. I’ve never been more scared, unsure and generally frightened in my life than I am right now.”
“Maybe this will make you feel better.”
Stephen and I turn at the sound of Stace’s voice. I can’t believe the exotic beauty heard me voice all of my insecurities.
She stands in the kitchen alone but waves her fingers toward the doorway, like she’s urging somebody to come into the kitchen.
That somebody would be Ann.
Ann steps into the room. Gone is the simple girl-next-door. In her place is the I-wish-you-lived-next door-to-me girl. While she doesn’t appear different, everything about her is different.
“Amazing.” I wonder how Stace could capture the look I wanted without us even having a conversation about it.
The swirly skirt and blousy top look fabulous on Ann. She’s barefoot, yet gorgeous, elegant, yet casual. An odd combination, I realize, but my brain is still trying to process Stephen. The man of contrasts.
Stace turns to Ann. “I told you it was all good.”
Ann shakes her head. “I’m still not sure of this.”
“Ditch that attitude quickly. We have pictures to take.” Unable to contain my excitement, I decide I need to heed my own advice.
“Actually, a little of that attitude can add a lot to your pictures.” Stephen nods toward Ann.
I cut him a look, not believing he’s contradicting me, but then I remember he’s the photographer, not me. Then I remember he doesn’t photograph humans.
Now I’m confused. “Explain?”
“Uncertainty mixed with passion will be a great combination.”
I look at him. “What?”
“You’re both raw. You’re raw with passion, she’s raw with nervousness and uncertainty. It’s bound to create great chemistry.”
I shrug my shoulders, smart enough to know I’m too ignorant to argue with his reasoning. “Let’s go, then.”
Walking to the sliding doors, I motion for Ann to follow. Stace and Stephen are right behind, all four of us looking like quite the awkward group as we stand on the patio.<
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“Where to start?” I ask out loud, hoping to sound rhetorical, yet hoping Stephen will answer.
He doesn’t.
I scan the pool area, all the little nuances he’s told me over the last few days disappearing from my brain.
Probably run out by his kisses.
Taking a deep breath, I try to pull it all together. Everything I’ve been hoping for since the botched surgery has come down to this. My clothes, the perfect woman wearing them, a gal with an amazing knack for makeup and hairstyles waiting in the wings, and a gorgeous photographer, who doesn’t photograph humans but has an eye for what makes an award-winning photo.
And I’m stalled.
BRILLIANT
SPOTTING THE POTTED plant sitting halfway on the stone tile and halfway on the wooden deck brought back part of a conversation Stephen and I had regarding contrasts.
I start walking toward the plant. “Ann, follow me. Please.”
Stace and Stephen look with interest as Ann and I walk to the other side of the pool. I try to ignore them as I start with Ann.
“Stand next to the plant.”
Ann does.
I shake my head. “No. Move left a little so you are partially in front of the plant.”
She takes a couple of steps left. “Here?”
Tilting my head left, then right, I purse my lips. “Um, maybe it’s the way you are standing. You’re really straight, paralleling the palm. Can you put some curve into your body? Like maybe your neck can be really straight, your chin up, while you’re, I don’t know, doing something else?”
Ann is looking at me like I’m crazy, and I feel crazy. Those words made no sense to me, so I have no idea how I think she is going to be able to do something with them. “Okay. Forget everything I just said. I know it didn’t make any sense. It’s probably easier if I showed you.”
With precious Millie hanging around my neck, I walk over to where Ann is standing, her expression indicating she wants to bolt. While I don’t blame her, I’m not going to let her.
Her gaze cuts over to Stace and Stephen.
“Are they making you nervous?” I ask.
She swallows and nods. “I’m already nervous enough around you, but…”
“I know. Be right back.”
Stephen meets me halfway and speaks before I can. “We’ll scoot. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
The man can read my mind?
I hope he can’t because it’s filled with how he’ll be hanging in the kitchen with the exotic Stace. Who has no ring on her finger.
At least she thinks Stephen is spoken for.
Why is this important to me?
My future is riding on the brink of a missionary turned model-for-a-morning and my focus is Stephen Day. Not good.
“Thanks.” My truth is Stephen’s leaving makes me nervous. As much as I don’t want him around, I want him around.
“You can do it.” He winks at me. “Get your shot.”
After giving me a thumbs up, he turns and walks into the house. It doesn’t escape my notice that Stace waited for Stephen before going into the house.
Future.
Focus.
As I approach Ann I see she is sweating a little around her hair line. It’s not that warm right now. I’m sure she’s putting a lot of pressure on herself. I wish I could assure her that’s not necessary. The pressure is on me.
“Okay, they’re gone. I didn’t even have to say anything. Stephen just knew.”
Ann laughs softly. “Brett and I are like that, too. Often, we know what each other is thinking. It’s crazy how when you’re in love with someone things like that happen, huh?”
These things I say don’t register in my mind that they might be construed as they are. While I found it amazing that he knew what I wanted, Ann thinks it’s natural for two people in love.
Except that we aren’t in love.
Not even close.
Shaking her words out of my mind I try to gain control of this situation. “Okay, so now we are alone. Nobody is watching. Let’s trade places for a minute.”
When I stand where Ann was, I picture my designs on me instead of Ann. Closing my eyes, I see myself playing out the scenario of showing off the clothes.
“Watch.” I strike a pose. Bending my arm, I hold onto the palm tree, throw my head back a little, pivot on my right foot.
“That looks…” Ann starts.
“Weird. I know. I’m trying to find the mood. The feel of things.”
Ann stands there while I walk around the palm, stopping a couple of times as a vision enters my mind. After a minute or so I say, “Okay. Here goes.”
In a matter of thirty seconds I pose in ways I’ve done thousands of times. I watch the transformation on her face, and she starts shaking her head.
“Okay. Yeah. I can’t do that.”
I dampen the energy the switching of roles has brought me. The life I feel inside at this outward display. “Right. You can’t. I’m not expecting you to do what I did. Bring yourself to the table. Just you.”
“I’m pretty boring.”
I sigh, trying not to lose hope. “None of that. Now come on back over here. Do your thing.”
“It would be nice if I knew what my thing was.”
It’s like I’m walking on air as I switch places with Ann. That amazing feeling of the camera focused on me, waiting for me to bring whatever it is I’m wearing to life is great, but there’s a greater rush stepping behind the camera.
Taking the shot. Not being the shot.
I glance over my shoulder before turning around to take my stand as photographer. Blood surges through my body as I see Ann.
Ann, who isn’t doing anything special because she doesn’t think I’m ready. I’m supposed to be walking a few more feet at least.
But I stop and turn. She still has no idea I’m focusing the camera. The light is perfect.
She’s perfect.
I push the button and magic starts to happen. The shutter clicks rapidly and I snap several shots before she realizes what I’m doing. Then I catch her look of surprise when she does, and I know that shot will be worth looking at again.
“Keep it up.” I wave to her, urging her on.
“Keep what up?” Her puzzled expression has ruined at least five shots.
“Don’t talk. Just do. Think of Brett. Think of your wedding. Go to your happy place.”
Instead of arguing, she smiles. I snap a few shots, but they’re just pictures on a camera. Nothing radiates. Stands out as special.
I think capturing her unaware was my best shot with this set of props.
“Let’s move.” I point to the right. “Over there.”
Millie weighs heavy on my chest as we walk to the other side of the pool. That sunflower that Stephen was talking up has been pushed next to one of the red-cushioned chairs. I look through the viewfinder. Luscious green trees provide an amazing backdrop for the colorful chair and sunflower.
“Hang out right here.” I point Ann to the chair.
She looks confused.
“Do something natural,” I continue.
“The only thing natural to me right now is to run.”
The wind picks up, blowing her skirt around her legs. The clothes do look perfect on her. And she has the perfect look for the clothes. But unfortunately it’s not connecting for the camera.
“Cheetah.”
My body warms at the sound of his voice. My heart saddens at his observance of my failure. I don’t want to admit to him I can’t connect all the dots here.
But then again, I’m sure I don’t have to tell him. I’m sure he can tell. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out not much is happening right now.
“Hi.” I’ll let him make the first move.
“What are you trying to capture?” He cocks his head toward Ann.
I follow with my gaze and take in only the area of what I would see through the viewfinder. “I thought the combination of
the colors and shapes could pull together for a nice shot.”
He nods. “I can see that. But what is the essence of what you’re saying in this scenario?”
“Essence?” I wasn’t aware I needed essence.
“Yes. Simplicity? Fun? Innocence? What word are you wanting to emote?”
“My first thought would be to say fun. But in looking at the items and place I’m not sure where the fun would come in.”
“Fun probably isn’t the best word for this scenario, I agree. What are your clothes saying to you?”
Now my clothes are supposed to talk to me? The mentality of this photographer is not my mentality. “Right now they’re saying, ‘take my picture because I’m on a deadline to get these pictures to Dominick.’”
Stephen shakes his head. “It shows. Your objective has to have soul, not greed as the driving force.”
I’m aware that Ann can hear our conversation, but I don’t care. I push down my frustration at his use of the word greedy. I’m not greedy. I need to survive. “I have soul. Plenty of soul. I’m sorry you can’t see it. And the will to survive can’t be classified as greedy.”
Ann looks away, her feet shifting uncomfortably.
“Do me a favor.” His voice is caring, even after my speech.
“What?” My response is curt. I can see my new career tanking before my eyes.
“Hand me Millie, then go stand where Ann is.” He looks at Ann. “Do you mind stepping back here with me for a minute?”
“No.” She walks toward Stephen. “Be glad to.”
It’s hard to step lightly when my heart is heavy, so after handing Millie off to Stephen, I trudge to the chair, knowing Stephen is going to make me pose.
“Sit in the chair. Please.” He smiles as he adds the please.
I sit in the chair in an auto-pose. I’ve done this so many times it’s simply the natural thing to do when a camera is pointing at me. Although I do notice Millie is still laying against Stephen’s chest. He hasn’t touched her yet.
“Talk to me.” Stephen’s tone is insistent.
“Talk?” He wants me to chat now?
“Yes. Tell Ann how you feel. Explain to her what you see playing out right now.”