“We’ve got a great pork chop dinner. Thick and juicy, and you landed here on the day we’ve got our best cook, so.…”
“Pork chop dinner it is. Now, forgive me; I’ve got to get back to focusing on these.”
His hand rested on the stack of mailers, and all of a sudden, Elizabeth wished she had her own portfolio.
DREW’S HEART WAS pumping hard. I think I just pulled that off!
Now it was just a matter of engaging her in some more conversation to lead her to ask more about modeling. Then he’d be able to pull the trigger.
A nagging thought: You don’t have to do this. Just stop and go back home. You haven’t crossed any major lines yet.
The internal struggle was real. The whole way up to Millsville, Drew had debated with himself. He knew that what his desires were directing him to do could land him in a lot of hot water. But he also knew that Elizabeth had to be at least sixteen years old in order to be employed. That meant, as long as she consented to any future sexual activity, he wouldn’t be breaking any laws. In fact, if she agreed to contact, it would be a whole lot more legal than what he sometimes viewed online.
Even so … he’d never done anything like this before, and, legal or not, he knew this wasn’t right. He knew it deep in his gut.
The central mental debate he’d had with himself dealt more with intent. He knew he was too old for her. Much too old. He also knew that she wasn’t likely to ever have any true romantic feelings for him. And, as for himself, he knew far too well that he wasn’t pursuing romance. He was after the consummation of a fantasy: sex with a minor.
The hope was that she’d just play the encounter off as a bad choice she’d made and move on with her life.
He closed his eyes. His conscience visited again with a vengeance. Just gather this stuff up and leave. Put a nice tip on the table and get out of here.
He opened his eyes, knowing that if he really tried, he could fight off the desire. He could keep himself from living in a mire of guilt, probably for a long time into the future.
Fine. Fine, fine, fine!
Drew shook his head. He was astounded that he could be less than happy with himself for deciding to be strong and doing the right thing.
His desires—his darker side?—were screaming at him to stay, to play out the entire scenario he’d developed to its pleasurable conclusion.
Get up and get out of here!
He quickly stacked the portfolios and grabbed for the camera bag on the booth seat. And that’s when his attempt to leave unnoticed was foiled.
“Shouldn’t be long on that pork chop,” said the exquisite waitress over his left shoulder.
He let go of the bag and redirected his attention to her as she moved to stand at the end of his table.
“Everything okay? Looks like you’re about to take off.”
How do I—?
She continued. “I was hoping to hear more about the modeling … err … talent business.”
In that moment, he could have said, “I just got another call, and I’ve got to get back on the road.”
Yes, that’s what he could have said.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he said, “Uhh.… No. No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to go wash my hands. Don’t want to leave my camera in the booth.”
“Oh. Yes, that’s a good idea. Umm. Restrooms are in the back corner.” She pointed the way.
He said thank you and got up, went where she directed, and passed through the restroom door.
I should have gotten up and simply exited through the main door.
I should have.
But … he didn’t. And an unseen demonic companion grinned with satisfaction.
Chapter 29
E
lizabeth checked on a couple of her customers while waiting for Mr. Photographer to return to his table. She was anxious to ask him some questions.
It struck her that it wasn’t his involvement in the talent business or even that he was a photographer that grabbed her attention the most; it was that he was different. He lived a life that had him photographing beautiful women all over the place. Maybe all over the world. He was a career starter for lucky women who somehow crossed his path.
Elizabeth had no delusions that she would qualify for anything like that, but just knowing someone who knew others who did … that was something. Right?
Her whole life she’d never really felt beautiful. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She’d believed herself to be beautiful when, in her pre- and early teens, men began telling her so.
“You’ve got beautiful hair.”
“You’ve got a beautiful smile.”
“I’ll bet you’re beautiful without clothes on.”
“You are beautiful without clothes! Even more beautiful!”
After a while—after a couple of years—she realized that they were only saying those things so that they could enjoy themselves at her expense.
No. Not really at my expense, I guess. Not like it cost me anything.
Or had it?
Anyway, being beautiful was something that other girls were. Innocent girls, who didn’t do the things that she enjoyed doing.
Innocence equaled beauty.
Kyla is beautiful. Her momma is not.
Mr. Photographer reentered the dining area and regained his seat. She met him there once again.
“So, you want to know more about modeling, huh?” he said with a smile.
Elizabeth could feel a smile touch her lips and was aware that her eyes widened. She nodded a quick yes.
“Well,” he began, “most girls—guys too—think that it’s really easy. You know, stand in front of the ocean surf on an empty beach and ‘click!’ You‘ve got a picture that looks like she should be on magazine covers.
“Want to know a secret?”
She nodded again.
“The reason there are no others in those beach shots is that the photography is taking place in the winter. It’s usually freezing outside. The girls suck on ice cubes so that their breath won’t show up in the photos, all the while wearing bikinis.”
Elizabeth was shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah, and it’s not much better in the summer. Huge reflectors are used to redirect the sun’s light onto the right parts of people’s bodies for proper illumination. The heat can be pretty intense. The only plus is that sucking on ice cubes is an actual comfort in those situations.
“In-studio photography can be pretty grueling too. Standing in front of backdrops in boring rooms, while high-intensity lights are directed on you—I mean, at the models—can be exhausting.”
Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows. “Not a whole lot of glamour, it sounds like.”
“Well, if you are one of the few who gets noticed—truly noticed—there’s quite a bit of glamour. Parties, travel, money.… It can be pretty nice.
“Does that really sound worth it to you, Elizabeth?”
She considered the question for a moment. “It’s probably better than being a server at the Fairlane Diner.”
The guy laughed.
He bobbed his head from side to side a couple of times with a thoughtful look on his face. “Maybe. But not necessarily.”
“Trust me.”
He chuckled. “Okay. But look at you. You’re a very pretty young woman, probably working your way through college, with some nice-sized goals ahead of you.”
A sardonic laugh escaped her mouth. “Wrong on all counts.”
He produced a look of surprise. “Oh really? How so?”
“I’m still in high school—a senior. I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. And, lastly, I’m not that pretty.”
He looked at her curiously.
She shrugged as if to say, “It’s the truth.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“You … don’t … buy what?”
He sat up a
nd leaned forward onto the table, looking directly into her eyes. “I don’t buy that you don’t have a good future ahead of you. What about your family? I’m sure that they are rooting for you.”
Elizabeth looked at the ground, her expression fading into a blank stare. “Wow,” she whispered. “You’re 0 for 4, now.”
His voice became the epitome of compassion. “I’m sorry. I should just shut up. The very last thing I wanted to do was make your evening awful.”
She looked back up at him and shrugged again. “It’s okay. You couldn’t know anything about my background. It’s … complicated.”
Elizabeth heard a customer behind her call out, “Excuse me, miss?”
She apologized to Mr. Photographer and very soberly went to see to her customer’s need, eyes cast down at the floor.
DREW WAS FEELING tortured inside now. What was he doing? She was damaged goods, and he’d just reminded this poor girl of that fact. Every desire that he’d had to play this girl for a fool had just come back to bite him on the butt. His fantasy had gotten smacked by reality.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be all smiles and hope and expectation for both of them. Just woo her into feeling that she’s got what it takes to be a model, and he’d get a chance to hopefully enjoy her.
Now there was nothing growing in her except, perhaps, a low-grade depression.
An idea came to him. He looked over at his camera bag.
Maybe he could redeem the situation. No longer make it about himself, but genuinely about her.
He took out the Samsung NX1 pro camera that he’d rented for the occasion and powered it up. He hadn’t anticipated using it until the weekend—should he have gotten her that far—but now maybe he could at least do something to make her feel better about herself. At least in the short term.
Just as he had been taught by his mom, he selected the correct lens and placed it on the body. Then he checked the small monochrome LCD readout to change the settings. He raised the camera up to his right eye and focused the lens.
Click!
Elizabeth must have heard the sound, because she turned around to look at him. Seeing the camera, she gave him a somewhat-humored, what-are-you-doing look.
Click!
Through the lens, Drew saw her turn slightly to those at the table and say, “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” She walked his way.
He lowered the camera.
The smile had returned to her face. “What was that about?”
“I aim to show you that you truly are beautiful. You should know that about yourself.”
“Not sure I’m going to buy that.”
It struck Drew in that moment, that he could use the coming weekend as an opportunity to actually do something good for her.
“You’d believe me, if you could see what I can do with a camera.”
It struck him then that he should introduce himself.
“By the way, I’m Mark Johnson.”
He extended his hand. She took it.
“I’m Elizabeth.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I remember.”
They dropped their hands.
“Listen, Elizabeth. I feel pretty awful for the way I just made you feel. Will you forgive me?”
She looked down at the floor again. “Nothing really to forgive, but thanks for saying that.”
“I’ve got an idea. That is, if you’re amenable and available.”
He could tell that he’d piqued her curiosity.
“What is it?” she asked, anticipation in her voice.
“Well, if there is someplace around here where I can set up a simple shoot, I’d like to photograph you.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued.
“I’m not promising the quality of the photos in these portfolios, but I can still put something together that will show you what most people already know when they see you—that you really are very pretty. Beautiful, even.”
At the word beautiful, he could see her countenance change. A little of her smile faded.
“I’m serious. I’m not playing you here.” And he really meant it.
Drew opened up one of the portfolios and laid it open for her to view. “Here, take a look.”
Elizabeth flipped through the photos.
“Now, she’s beautiful.”
“Actually, without makeup and lighting effects, she’s far less attractive than you.” He lowered his voice. “Just don’t tell her I said that.”
Her smile began to return.
“So, you’re wanting to … what? Get me into this kind of makeup and…?”
“No,” he interrupted. “No makeup. Natural, like you are now. Maybe a couple/few changes of clothes, but otherwise just like you are now. Minus the gravy stains.”
Elizabeth snorted out a laugh that caught the attention of other customers.
“How ‘bout it?”
“When? Where?”
“This weekend? Friday? Saturday? I don’t really have any other time available in my schedule. I’ll just delay my trip east for a couple of days.”
“May I bring someone? My sister?”
Drew hadn’t anticipated this sort of question. He thought quickly. “Ehh…. I’d rather you not. For a couple of reasons. I’m not supposed to be photographing anyone without a contract, and I don’t want to feel the pressure of someone else wanting something similar to take place for her. Or him.”
“I guess that makes sense. But are you sure? I mean … you don’t really have to do this. I’m not going to be making you any money, so it would really be like a waste of your time.”
“Elizabeth, it would be an honor to make you feel good about yourself, especially after I made you feel the opposite a few minutes ago.”
She lit up. “Okay. I’d like to do it.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry. No, I can’t on Friday. I always work the afternoons, and my family does game night in the evening. Tomorrow’s the last one of those for a while, though.”
“Saturday, then.”
“That works great!”
Drew reached into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulled out a business card holder. Reaching into it, he pulled out a card, but a few of them fell out and onto the floor.
“Don’t worry,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll grab them.”
She knelt down on the ground and picked up the two cards she saw under the table. Standing back up, she handed one of them to Drew. “I’ll just keep this one,” she said.
Drew smiled. “If you’ll give me your number, I’ll call you. That is, if you’ve got a cell phone.”
“Of course!” She pulled out her order pad and wrote her first name and phone number on it. Handing it to him, she said, “I’m excited!”
“I’m looking forward to it too, Elizabeth. Remember, though … hush-hush. Let’s not make this a known thing. Okay?”
“I promise. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll remain in privacy-matic mode until we’re done with everything.”
He laughed. “Is that a word?”
“I get creative when I’m happy.”
“Great. Now, about my pork chops.”
Chapter 30
D
rew drove back home. It had been an interesting evening. He’d gone to the restaurant to trick Elizabeth into doing a fake photo shoot so that he could, hopefully, get her to agree to do some things that involved little or no clothing. Instead, he’d found that he really did want to make her feel better about herself.
Still, what he intended to do for her now was also based on a bunch of lies—his name, his profession—but instead of heading home with another morality debate cycling through his mind, he could genuinely feel good about himself.
Ironic.
Already having some knowledge about how to produce quality photographs—thanks chiefly to the time he had spent with his mom—he was actually going
to be able to provide Elizabeth with a nice portfolio, evidence of her beauty.
He’d call her tomorrow with a location and a time for Saturday.
It felt pretty good being good—doing good.
It felt really good having someone look up to him.
Drew looked forward to the weekend with a different outlook on who he was as a man than he’d had in quite a long time.
Maybe I have some moral value, after all.
ELIZABETH ENTERED THE house with a smile on her face.
“Look who’s all cheerful tonight,” said Tara as she walked into the living room from the kitchen. “Good evening at work?”
“You know, it turned out to be pretty good, actually.”
“That’s good to hear. What happened? Give me the juice!”
Elizabeth looked perplexed. “Give you the juice?”
Tara gave a fake sigh of exasperation. “Really? Am I that old?”
A quiet giggle came from Elizabeth. “No. Of course not.”
“Uh-huh. Well, juice … juicy details.”
“Ahh. Gotcha. No real juice to squeeze out. Just a rare evening of people not getting on my last nerve. And some decent tips, to boot.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s not very juicy. But I’m glad it went well for you.”
“Time for a shower. Oh, where’s Brent—Dad?” She grimaced. “Brent?”
Now Tara giggled. “You know you are allowed to call us Tara or Mom, Brent or Dad, but I know you’ve never been comfortable with any of those options. To tell the truth, I’ve paid attention, and you’re usually very good at avoiding sentences that trap you into using any of the aforementioned options.”
“You’ve noticed that, huh? Nice use of ‘aforementioned,’ by the way.”
Tara nodded with a smile. “So, Elizabeth … what do you really want to call us?”
Elizabeth was hesitant, but finally said, “Mom and Dad.” She could feel tears lifting into her eyes.
“Well, then, Daughter, Dad is upstairs asleep. He’s got an early-morning meeting to conduct at the station.”
Elizabeth cleared the emotion out of her throat. “Okay. I’ll be quiet. I’ll come back down if you’d like some company.”
That Dark Place Page 17
