Many had heard about what happened to her and were very understanding. A couple of others had taken their business elsewhere, and really, she couldn't blame them. It was business, after all, and if they needed photographs to advertise their products and there were publication deadlines and project timelines, they needed to get the job done somehow.
Shortly after Trey had left, her parents had shown up at her door from Newport, frantic with worry about what they'd been seeing on the news. They'd found her sitting on her kitchen floor, crying, which had alarmed them no end. She'd reassured them she was fine, perfectly safe, unhurt, but luckily they couldn't see her bruised and battered heart.
She also had dinner with her friends Jenn and Rachel, who'd left her a number of increasingly frantic voice mail messages. They'd been all over her with questions about what had happened and inquiries about Trey. She wasn't quite ready to talk about Trey yet, but she knew one day she would.
"It's so weird to not have Krista here," Rachel said sadly.
They all agreed. Marli shared her feelings of overwhelming guilt about how things had ended between her and Krista, and sharing it all again made it that much less painful. It was as if every time she talked about it expelled some of the guilt. Her friends reassured her Krista had loved her, and had known Marli loved her, too.
"You knew Krista," Jenn said. "Do you think right now, looking down on us, she's blaming you for what happened? Do you think she's up there saying, 'If only Marli had stopped me'?"
Marli shook her head. She could not imagine Krista saying or thinking that.
"She would never say that," Rachel said earnestly. "You know that. You were friends. You weren't responsible for her every move, every choice."
"I know," Marli said. "I know that now. I just wish things had ended with us not mad at each other."
"You two had a whole life of love and laughter," Jenn pointed out. "One fight doesn't negate all that."
It had helped to talk to her friends about it, just as it had helped to talk to Trey. She was so grateful he'd been there and been so understanding, letting her open up and share her feelings with him without judging her at all. If only he would do the same for himself.
Through all of it, her heart throbbed with a dull pain that turned sharp whenever she thought about Trey. Her heart ached for him, and what he'd been through, and it hurt for herself--for the thought that she'd never see him again.
Through the closed door, he could hear the thumping bass of loud music. Trey turned the knob and opened the door. The music got louder.
He walked into a huge open room, with high ceilings criss-crossed by a network of ductwork and pipes. The walls were all white save the long outside wall, which was natural creamy brick. Hardwood floors stretched to the far end of the room where a photo shoot was taking place.
Three women dressed in very little were arranged on and around a chaise longue upholstered in a plush leopard print fabric. The blonde with long, tousled curls wore a white lace bustier, thong panties and a garter belt, with white stockings on her long legs. The brunette, with similar long hair, was dressed in a black lace bra and tiny underwear that looked like shorts, and the redhead wore a bronze-colored satin camisole and thong. The scene glowed in the brilliant lights directed down on it, vivid and rich with color and texture.
A huge background hung from a large dowel suspended from the ceiling, rolling down behind them and across the floor. A woman dressed all in black made an adjustment to the bronze camisole, while another man and woman stood off to the side, watching.
Justin Timberlake was bringing sexy back to a throbbing beat booming from a killer stereo system sitting on a counter on one side of the room.
The scene was seductive with the three gorgeous models, but it was the photographer who drew his attention. She stood beside a camera mounted on a tripod with her back to him, long golden curls handing down almost to her waist. She was dancing, her hips moving temptingly in time to the music, watching and waiting as the woman in black made her adjustments, then scooted off the scene in her stocking feet. As he moved farther into the room, watching with fascination, the models all looked at him, and Marli turned to see what had distracted them.
Her lush mouth parted into a surprised O and she stilled, staring at him.
"Trey."
He smiled at her. Man, she was gorgeous. Her skinny jeans hugged those long, long legs and the thin T-shirt she wore over them outlined her curvy body. His heart was about to pound right out of his chest at the sight of her.
"Sorry. I'm interrupting."
She nodded, her green eyes huge. "Um...yeah." She glanced back at the models. "I need to finish this."
"Is it okay if I wait?"
"Sure. We're almost done." She licked her lips, which made him want to lick them, too, and turned back to the group posed before her. "Sorry, ladies," she said cheerfully. "Let's finish this up."
She moved back behind her camera and started shooting, firing off shots rapidly, while encouraging the models in their poses. The music changed to the Black Eyed Peas singing "Pump It", and Marli's body continued to move to the music as she worked. When she finally called a halt, the models stood up, stretched, and wandered off the set. He couldn't help but watch them with appreciation as they all went into a corner blocked off by screens.
He turned his attention back to Marli, who was grinning at him.
"Put your eyes back in your head," she told him, green eyes sparkling with humor.
"Hey," he said, "it's just nice scenery."
She nodded knowingly. "Very nice. Coquette Lingerie. I do all their photography."
The woman in black had been packing up some bags, chatting with the other couple, and now slung them over her shoulder. "I'm outta here, Marli," she announced, eyeing Trey. She smiled. "Nice working with you, as always. I guess I'll see you next week on that shoot for West Coast Mall."
"Yeah, you betcha. Thanks, Whitney."
"Thanks, Marli," called the other woman, picking up a purse and briefcase off the counter. "When will you e-mail me the link to the shots?"
"Tomorrow," Marli replied. "Then we'll talk."
The man and woman also left.
Trey looked around her studio. "This is impressive."
"Thanks." She went over to the big window on the outside wall and raised the thick black blind covering it. The room became lighter, but it had been raining all day, so the light remained weak and grey. She walked over to the camera and removed the memory card, took it over to a Mac computer on a desk.
"Just let me get these started downloading," she murmured, eyes on the monitor, one hand clicking the mouse. Then she straightened and went back to the camera. He watched as she deftly removed the camera from the tripod, twisted the battery compartment and removed the battery, then connected it to a recharger on the counter. She tucked the camera away in a camera bag.
Trey wandered over to look at framed photographs of her work on one wall. One by one, the models came out from behind the screen, now dressed in Tshirts and jeans or baggy cargo pants, looking decidedly less glamorous.
"'Bye, Marli," they all called, waving perfectly manicured hands as they left the studio.
And then they were alone. Trey swallowed nervously.
Marli unplugged lights, took down umbrellas and lowered the lights on their stands.
"So, how are you?" she asked. She removed a reflector from the light and put on some kind of cap.
"I'm good. Ah...you have a lot of equipment here."