Chapter 1
Belle
December 5th
A horn blared loudlyas I stood in the street, but I ignored it as I held my camera up to my eye, focusing the lens on the building in front of me. If I wanted to get the perfect photo, then standing here in the middle of Fifth Avenue was how I was going to get it. I angled the lens, capturing several photos of the iconic Plaza Hotel with its decorated Christmas lights and large lit wreaths.
Another long blast of a car horn sounded as I continued to stand in the street. But when you’d been living in New York City for two years, a car horn wasn’t a sound that bothered you anymore—it was just another sound of the city. I turned to the driver of the car impatiently wanting me to get out of their way—for good reason—and gave them a big smile and a wave. Thedriver scowled at me, shaking his head and muttering something I couldn’t hear as I made my way back toward the sidewalk and out of traffic.
Stepping inside the beautifully decorated hotel lobby, I relished the warmth of getting out of the frigid air. Christmas in New York City was magical…but also freezing. And there was nothing quite as whimsical as Christmas at the Plaza Hotel. Every year they elegantly decorated the hotel from top to bottom. The Christmas trees, the oversized gifts and ornaments, the garland, and the wreaths all worked perfectly together to transform the hotel into a spectacular display. And this year it was my job to capture the beauty and magnificence of this well-known hotel.
Being an architectural photographer for almost a year had given me lots of opportunities to capture some incredible images of some of New York’s most iconic buildings. My boyfriend, Alex, had helped me get this job, and it was nice to finally have a steady paycheck to rely on. Before, I’d been jumping from one random photography job to the next trying to figure out exactly where I wanted to end up.
After I got a few shots of the lobby, I headed to the mezzanine foyer where there was a gorgeous marble staircase leading up to the ballroom level, knowing I’d definitely want to get some photos there. The beautiful marble floors, the coffered ceiling, and of course the staircase with an iron and wood balustrade would make for some beautiful images.
Once I had taken several photos of the area, I started up the stairs to hopefully get a better view of the foyer. The second floor balcony would allow me to capture the entire area. Brushing a few strands of honey-blond hair out of my eyes, I raised my camera. I walked along the garland-covered balcony, taking several shots as I went. I stopped when I got to the perfect vantage point. Except I was a little too short. My 5’6” height couldn’t quite give me the angle I needed. Staring at the intricate iron detail of the balcony railing, I figured I could put my feet in one of the holes near the bottom and boost myself up.
Shoving my boot in, I lifted myself up, using my hands to balance on the banister underneath the garland as my camera hung around my neck. It was better but not quite high enough. Going up one iron loop higher, I shoved my other boot in.
Carefully I released my hold on the banister and picked up my camera.
Ah. That was it.
I began taking several photos before an employee could see me and tell me to get down. This definitely wasn’t the first time I had done something crazy to get the shot I needed—like standing in the middle of Fifth Avenue.
Just one more photo, just a little higher. I stretched my body and lifted up on my toes. I wobbled slightly but hurried to regain my balance. One more shot and then I’d get down. Holding up the camera once again, I fixed the lighting and pushed down the shutter to capture theperfect photo. But as soon as the camera flashed and the photo was taken, I felt myself falling.
A squeal escaped me as the banister hit into my thighs and my body started to fall forward to what I knew was a marble floor waiting to greet me.
Something warm wrapped around my waist tightly and pulled me back, my heart thumping hard against my chest.
Once my brain realized I was no longer falling to my death, or at least a severe injury, I was able to recognize that I was now safely in the arms of a man. A very handsome and attractive man. He cradled me in his arms like I weighed nothing, holding me against his broad chest. His brown hair was nicely styled; his gray eyes looked at me intently over a short beard, trimmed close to highlight the strong jaw underneath. And his lips…well, his lips were definitely not smiling as he looked down at me.
“Thank you,” I finally managed to say once I caught my breath.
His brows furrowed. “What were you doing up there?”
I gave him a shy smile, holding up my camera that was thankfully still around my neck. “I was taking photos.”
He only blinked at my response, as if that wasn’t an adequate enough reason to be climbing the banister.
“I was too short to capture the angle I wanted,” I said, giving further explanation.
“You do realize how dangerous that was, right?” he asked, his tone both admonishing and concerned.
My smile turned sheepish. “I do now.”
He continued to stare at me, and I should have felt uncomfortable about it, but with him still holding me in his arms, I felt waytoocomfortable. Which should also make me feel uncomfortable.
“Are you planning to let me down anytime soon?” I asked with a wry grin.
His gaze on me finally broke, as if he had forgotten he had been holding me. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” He slowly set me on my feet, and I now regretted mentioning it.
“I’m just glad you happened to be walking by when you did,” I said, stepping back as I straightened my green coat and fixed my skewed sweater underneath.
Looking up at him, he seemed to be about six inches taller and about a foot wider than me. Okay, maybe a foot was a bit of an exaggeration, but he was a big guy. And did I mention how good looking he was? My fingers itched to grab my camera and take a photo of him. Only because I was a photographer, of course, not because I was some crazy person. But there was no denying he looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, me too.” He gave me a single nod. “Stay safe.”
