CONNOR
Five and a half years later
My hands were clammy and sweat trickled down the back of my neck as I made my way up the busy West End street towards the photography studio where Gabi worked. Pulling out my phone, I checked my position on the map. The studio was at the end of the next block. Almost there.
I continued on, my steps slowing as I neared my destination. Gabi and I had kept our promise to stay in touch after I moved away, managing to rebuild our friendship long-distance. But as time passed, and I began to fall further into the hole I’d dug for myself, reaching out had become too hard. It had been more than a year now since I’d heard Gabi’s voice, almost two since I’d seen her in person. If I’d upset her by ignoring her calls and texts, I’d have no one to blame but myself. If she’d become indifferent to my absence? That would be so much worse.
Dragging my feet hadn’t stopped me from moving forward, and before long the door of the studio loomed large in front of me. I stared at the handle. All I had to do was turn it and walk in. Or keep going. If I left now, she’d never even know I’d been here.
The decision was made for me when the door opened from the inside to reveal a young woman with bright red hair and a smiling face.
“Good afternoon,” she said cheerfully. “You looked unsure about whether to come in, so I figured I’d lend a hand. We’re closing in a few minutes, but there’s still time to make an appointment if you’re interested. Or to get some information. Whatever you need.”
“Actually, I wondered if Gabrielle Hannigan is here?” I sneaked a glance past the woman to the room beyond, but it appeared to be empty. “I’m an old friend. I wanted to surprise her.”
“Oh, how sweet.” Stepping back, the woman opened the door wider. “Gabi’s with a client right now, but she’ll be done soon. You can wait inside if you’d like.”
Nodding my thanks, I stepped through the doorway and into the small reception area.
“I’m Susan, by the way,” she said as she headed back behind the large wooden desk.
“Clay,” I replied, before stumbling to add the “ton” at the end. “Connor Clayton.”
I held my breath, waiting for the tell-tale signs of recognition in Susan’s eyes, but she only nodded pleasantly. “It’s nice to meet you, Connor.”
“Are you one of the photographers?” I asked, hoping to deflect the attention back to her.
“Oh no, you don’t want me taking your picture. I tend to scalp people in photos,” she said with a chuckle. The phone rang then, and she excused herself to answer it.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I turned to examine the small, but immaculate, reception area. Glossy tiles covered the floor, and a selection of printed canvases decorated the white walls. Mothers with newborn babies, proud parents cavorting with children on golden beaches. Standard family photos for the most part. Done well, but nothing special.
On the far wall, a collection of smaller canvases caught my eye and I crossed the room to take a closer look. They were solo portraits of both men and women. Most of them young, all of them beautiful. With perfect composition and attention to detail, they were easily recognisable as portfolio photographs for hopeful models. The unique look of each person captured forever… by Gabi’s talented hand.
“I see you recognise Gabi’s work,” Susan said as she joined me. “She’s building quite a reputation as a portfolio photographer. Young models are flocking to her.”
“I had no idea.” A fresh layer of guilt covered the old. I’d been so busy worrying about my own career, I’d hadn’t even realised how far Gabi had come. I had contacts all over the world. With a few phone calls, I could have opened any number of doors for her. If I’d been paying attention.
“Did you know Gabi took the very first professional photographs for that big male supermodel? The one they call Clay?”
I couldn’t resist looking down at her with a crooked smile. “I remember it well.”
It hit. Right that second. Susan’s eyes went round and she gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You’re… you’re…”
“Connor?”
My head turned towards the sound of Gabi’s voice, like a flower searching for the warmth of the sun. There she stood, in the doorway behind the reception desk. With bright red lips and a mass of dark hair piled on top of her head, she looked as beautiful as ever. “Hey there, Gabs.”
She shrieked, loud enough to threaten the integrity of the windows. “Connor!” Rounding the desk in a few strides, she rushed at me.
I barely had enough time to brace myself before she launched into my arms. Laughing with relief at her enthusiastic welcome, I held her tight, burying my face in the curve of her neck. “It’s so good to see you.” Her familiar scent wrapped around me, soothing nerves I’d thought frayed beyond repair.
“You, too,” she gushed, right before she pinned me with a glare. “I’m so mad at you,” she said with a light smack on my arm. “You’d better have a damned good reason for ghosting me this past year, buddy.” A pointy finger jabbed at the centre of my chest. “Just because you’re some famous, celebrity type doesn’t mean you can come swanning in here as if nothing happened.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” My vision blurred at the emotions trying to claw their way up my throat, but I put on a smile and swallowed them back down. “I’m an idiot to go so long without seeing you.”
Her gaze softened as she tilted her head to one side. “Connor,” she said quietly, “is something wrong?”
A quick glance around us showed Susan had moved away to take care of the client Gabi had abandoned at the sight of me. Neither of them were taking any notice of us. “Nothing that can’t be cured by your smile.” Releasing my hold on her, I hid the clenching of my fists by tucking them back into my pockets. “Can I take you out to dinner after you finish work? I promise to grovel until you’re ready to forgive me for neglecting you. What do you say?”
