“It gets better, right? Tell me it gets better,” I mutter.
“It does. But it’ll hit you in the most random ways, at the most inconvenient of times. The sadness, it never really goes away, but the peace you find more and more each day.” She squeezes my hand before she starts the car and backs out of the space.
“How about that hot sauce, though?” My weak attempt to lighten the mood earns a grin.
“You crowning me caliente champ?”
“Hell no.”
“My mouth is on fire! Cheap ice cream cones from McDonald’s? My treat.”
“Be careful, sugar mama, you don’t want me to get used to this high-class treatment.”
“That’s right, remember who wears the pants in this house—er—car.”
“I’m the one who always remembers to put pants on.”
She laughs. “Oh, shit. I forgot to charge my phone last night. You mind plugging it in?” She reaches around in her bag, eyes still on the road and retrieves it. I plug it in as she pulls in the drive thru to the first Mickey D’s we see. Ice cream cones in hand, we both moan in appreciation.
“So much better,” I mumble. The cool, creamy goodness steals the burn.
“Don’t know what it is about ice cream that takes the sting away but it works every time.” We’re back on the road when Kate’s phone comes to life and starts having a fucking heart attack by the number of messages and missed calls.
“Miss Popularity, your phone seems to be hemorrhaging messages.” She waves a hand and continues driving.
“Psh. Probably just Evie. She can get a little crazy if she doesn’t hear from me.”
She doesn’t seem concerned, but I look down to read the flashing screen displaying the last message.
Trent Rock God: So you wanna play hard to get? That’s how it’s gonna be? Game on.
Great. Apparently this d-bag is still in the picture. She can do so much better than this wanna be rocker. I’m sure he’s good at playing music, but something about him rubs me the wrong way and I know he’s not good enough for Kate. Because I want her for myself. The thought pops into my head before I can dismiss it. Fuck. More accurate than I’d like to admit. Okay, Mr. Rock God. You think you can win over Kate? Game fucking on.
FLIP, FLIP, FLOP.
It’s Monday and I’ve totally got a case of the back to work blues. I just don’t feel like being productive today; I’d rather be lying out by the pool, disappearing in a good book. Not that I have a bad life, it’s just that sometimes everyone needs an escape. Instead, I’m filling my last few moments of my lunch hour by laying out my most prized possessions—my photographs.
Ever since Jon found them I feel restless about my art. I’ve always kept that part locked away, a secret for only me. When Jon found them I was a little miffed, sure. Having him see my photographs made me vulnerable and naked, in a way. Nervous about what he thought. But he likes them. And now I feel maybe I don’t want to keep my art locked away in a tower anymore. Maybe it’s time I take a chance. I don’t know. The timing isn’t right. We have so much on our plates with the Three Ugly Guy music video shoot taking place this week. I don’t want to bother Marc by asking for his feedback on my work. I’m also a little scared. What if he doesn’t like them, or worse, thinks they’re average.
I’m methodically stacking the prints back in order when my office door swings open.
“Kate, would you be a dear and confirm the location shoots for this week? Oh…”Marc sidles up to my chair and looks over my shoulder. “What have we here?”
“Um. It’s nothing really, just a little playing around I do in my spare time. You know how much I love a naked man!” I try to laugh away my nerves but the sound falls hollow on my own ears. I watch Marc’s expression but he gives no indication of what he thinks.
“You took all these?” He picks up each photo off the desk one by one before he swipes the entire stack from my hands. “And did the edits?”
“Yeah.”
“Steph! Jason! Kate’s office, pronto!” he calls over his shoulder and continues to study the prints. Steph walks in and Jason saunters in behind her. “You need to see this.” Marc hands Steph the prints he’s already looked through and Jason views the prints still scattered across the desk with a playful smirk.
“Finally coming clean, little grasshopper?” He chuckles before adding, “Please tell me I at least made the final cut.”
“You knew about this?” Marc looks across the desk at Jason. He nods. “And you didn’t say anything?” Marc looks upset and I fear I’ve done something wrong here.
“I promise I never took any of these during work hours, and I used my own camera. I borrowed the editing program, but I swear I worked on that at home. I’m sorry, Marc.” An edge of panic creeps into my voice. I have no apartment. I have no car. I can’t lose my job, too.
“Kate!” Marc turns to face me with a powerful glare. “These are fucking phenomenal. The symmetry between the subject and the space, the organic use of light, the bold and dramatic scenes! I swear I feel like a proud papa right now! I didn’t even know you were messing around with photography, but these aren’t hobby shots. This is art.”
My eyes fill with tears, though I will them not to. His words strike a chord and provide the affirmation I desire but am not sure I deserve. That Marc approves means more to me than any art critic.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Steph grins.
“These need to be in a show.” Jason sends me a wink. “Preferably one with me as the subject.”
“What about the LaRosa Art Gala Charity Event?” Steph suggests.
“That’s perfect! I’ll make a call now!” Marc claps his hands and moves to leave my office.
“Uh. Guys. Not that I’m not flattered, because truly I am. But that event is this weekend.”
“Your point?” Marc asks.
“We have so much to do this week with the Three Ugly Guys video. My photography can wait. We don’t have to push this right now.” Marc marches back to my side and turns my chair, bending forward so we are eye to eye.
“This art. It cannot stay hidden. You have to share it. I know it seems like a lot, but trust me, this is the perfect timing. Besides, we already have a table at the gala and I have connections. The only thing you have to worry about is selecting which prints to use. And we can all help you with that. Oh, and buying a killer dress for the event.” He grins before standing. His words put my fears at ease. He’s right. I can’t put these photos back in the box, or drawer in my case. Besides, I have nothing to fear now that Marc, Steph, and Jason have seen my work. Theirs are the only opinions I truly care about.
“Okay, I’ll make some calls. You invite your best friends. I’ll let you know how many extra seats we’ll have. Oh, and make those confirmation calls for the shoots this week before you forget. I’m proud of you Kate.”
“Thanks, Marc.” Everyone files out of my office and I don’t waste time getting to work. This very busy week just got busier. I’ll need to bring my A game if I want to survive.
“Please tell me I get my car back soon!”
I’m about to leave for the day when a call from Aaron’s Auto flashes across my cell. I’m really hoping my Acura’s ready soon, because my insurance only covers my rental for one more day.
“Hello, Miss Bryant. I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?” This guy is irritating. I don’t want to play a guessing game. I just want my car.
“Just give it to me straight.”
“So, we ordered all the necessary parts to repair the damages and those came in today, except for two. We are still waiting on those and once they come in it will take us less than a day to have your car back on the road.”