“The result has been viral magic: photos of Montgomery posing in front of the Opera House, at the edge of the pool at Freshwater Beach, and at Bridal Veil Falls in the Blue Mountains have struck a chord, been shared all over the world, and spawned thousands of admirers and hundreds of imitators.
“Montgomery says a great deal of work goes into the few shots that make their way onto Instagram. ‘For every photo we post, we probably take a hundred that don’t make the cut,’ she told theMorning Sunthis week. ‘There are plenty of outtakes where I’m falling out of a pose, or my hair’s a disaster. But I like the outtakes, even if I don’t post them. They’re an important reminder that dance photos are just snapshots, and it’s easy to make them look neat and perfect. Actual dancing is about movement, and it’s always in the moment. So it can get pretty messy.’
“Jacobs says that outtakes aside, it’s easy to capture a good shot of Montgomery, who started training at the famed New York Ballet School when she was just six and has danced in the company’s corps de ballet for over a decade.
“‘It’s hard to take a bad photograph of someone this talented. Even the bad ones are good. She’s the best thing that ever happened to my photography.’”
Carly’s voice trailed off, and she let out a shaky breath.
“That’s it,” she said after a moment. He opened his eyes to see her staring down at the paper, clutching her coffee cup with white-tipped fingers.
“Good story,” he said, sitting up and reaching for the paper. She didn’t object when he pulled it from her hand, and he turned it over to see that the paper had also printed several smaller images: Carly in black and white on Freshwater Beach, Carly kicking her legs up behind her head in Leura, Carly in that perfect tenuous arabesque up on the scrubby cliffside at North Head. She looked striking in all of them, but the real performance had been her interview with Ivy. Carly had been quick and witty, confident without being cocky, and she’d had the reporter chuckling and soaking up her every word within a few minutes. It was like she was born for the spotlight, Nick had thought as he’d watched her charm Ivy a little more with every answer. This was a woman who knew how to captivate an audience. She’d certainly captivated him.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I know you didn’t want to do all this for me, but I’m really grateful that you did. I think it might actually work. It might actually be enough for Catherine to promote me.”
Nick took a deep drink of his coffee, then set it and the newspaper down on the nightstand. “I think it might, too. And you never know, it—”
He was interrupted by his phone, which started warbling and vibrating against the bedside table. Wincing at the sound, he grabbed it and answered the call.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice with a plummy English accent responded. “Is this Nicholas Jacobs?”
“Euh, yes, this is Nick Jacobs. Who’s this?”
“My name is Victor Wilkinson, and I’m the chief photo editor atVoguemagazine. Do you have a few moments to speak?”
After several numb moments—or possibly an hour, Nick couldn’t say—he ended the call with a trembling thumb and pulled the phone away from his ear.
“Vogue,” he said to a wide-eyed Carly, who’d been bouncing up and down with impatience and had repeatedly offered him a pen so he could scribble down what the call was about. He’d refused, because he’d been too focused on making sure that Victor Wilkinson was for real.
“Vogue?” Carly repeated, looking confused. Even as she said the word, it sounded like something out of a dream. Had that really just happened? Had one phone call just saved his floundering career?
“Voguesaw the photos and the article, and they want to hire me. To shoot dancers in couture, all over the world. Wherever I want in the world. He said, and I quote, ‘Write your own ticket, name your price—we just want your images in our magazine.’”
“NICK!” Carly shrieked, and he barely noticed the sound plunging a knife into his hungover brain.
“I know,” he said weakly, letting the phone drop onto the bed. “They’re sending me a contract later today.”
She launched herself at him, jumping onto the bed on her knees and throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her by the waist and kissed her, his lips playing against hers and tasting strong coffee. She straddled his hips and deepened the kiss, and he pulled her hard against him as her tongue dueled with his. A second later, she pulled back, panting, and looked into his face. Her mahogany eyes were sparkling with delight and desire.
“I’m so happy for you. This is huge,” she said, and he grinned. He took her face in both his hands.
“This never would have happened without you. There wouldn’t be any photos without you. Thank you for insisting that we try.”
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Insisting? You basically made me beg. And to think you almost refused.”
He gave his head a little shake, willing her to be serious. “I mean it. Thank you.”
She leaned forward to kiss him again, but instead he wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed tight, breathing out a slow, contented breath when she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to the skin below his ear. She felt so right there, warm and solid and still. Nick lifted his hand to her head and stroked her curls, feeling them wrap around his fingers, trapping and ensnaring him. Binding him to her.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said drowsily a few minutes later, and he felt a contented smile spread over his face. He had the job offer of his dreams, and none of it could have been possible without the woman who was currently drifting into sleep in his lap.
“I’m happy, too. And I know things are going to work out for you, once you get home.” He ignored the panic that fluttered in his stomach as he said it. Once she got home, just a few days from now. Once this whatever they’d been doing the last few weeks was over. But what if it didn’t have to be over? What if they could …
“Hey, Carly,” he started, not sure what he’d say next but knowing he had to say it, before he lost his nerve. But before he could continue, she pulled her face from his neck, frowning.
“Wait a sec, I think Ivy made a mistake.”
