Jessie turned red and sputtered.
Uma’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Where was the suave tale spinner? This guy was kind of an asshole. She looked from one to the other, wondering what kind of sordid history led two friendly people to be so rude to each other.
“Uma, love, I brought something for you.” Rory held out a hand. From it hung…a camera.
It was like gold. No, better than that—a security blanket, or a long-lost love. She almost moaned at the weight of it.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s for you.”
“Oh, but I can’t.”
“You’ll be doing me a favor, trust me.”
“How so?”
“After you left the other night, I dug it out from the storeroom, charged it up for you. Somebody left it here perhaps three years ago—charger, case, and all. I reckon they’re not coming back for it. Sounded as though you could use one. I’m not certain of the quality, but it should tide you over for a time, right?”
“Oh, wow,” Uma breathed as she shifted it into her right hand, let her grip slip into place, the pads of her fingers tingling. It was a crappy point and shoot, but she didn’t care. It was beautiful. Perfect.
Her heart picked up speed. This must be what drug addicts felt with their next fix in hand.
“Wow, this is…” She looked at Rory and would have cried if the tears would come. “Thank you.”
“No worries, love.” He winked, rose to standing, looked down the length of the table, and raised his voice. “Got your hands full, haven’t you, Ive, mate?”
Uma pressed the On button, wound a hand through the strap, and lifted it to her eye. As if by magic, he was there, more real than before. Ivan, saying something to Rory, making everyone at the table laugh. Looking through the lens took the edge off seeing Binx perched on his lap. She snapped a picture, turned the camera, snapped another. Zoomed in.Click, click.Ivan didn’t look exactly comfortable, but he didn’t appear unhappy either, surrounded by women.
Oh, but this was good. Her armor. A relief. Protection.
In her element, Uma stood and took two steps back. Even those steps were right. She never stumbled while she worked, never. It was her superpower: unerring confidence when looking through a lens. Her anti-kryptonite. That’s how Joey had eventually gotten the best of her—he’d broken her equipment, left her defenseless.
Someone settled a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back to the room.
“Glad to see you like it, love,” Rory said. He clapped her once on the back, then headed to the bar.
“You seem pretty excited about that thing,” Jessie said, her voice reaching Uma from a different plane. She could hardly hear her.
“You have no idea.”
“Guess he’s not an asshole with everybody, then.”
“You mean Rory? He’s been nice to me. Just like everyone else here.”
“Probably wants to get in your pants,” Jessie said, sounding snide.
Uma looked at the man behind the bar, snapped two photos of him and a close-up of Jessie. And she was photogenic on top of everything else. Did the woman have no faults? “No. He doesn’t.”
Jessie snorted in response. “I gotta go. Sitter needs to be cut loose.” She stood and pulled on her coat. It was one of those sporty, silver puffer things that only thin women can wear. “See you next week, ladies! Ive, don’t forget I need you tomorrow.”
The group dispersed. Monica said something about hurrying home to Kevin before he managed to kill their sons. Uma hadn’t finished her drink, but the sight of Binx cozying up to Ivan was nauseating. Her hand on his chest and his clasped over it, a half smile on his face as he shook his head at something she’d said. Probably something sexy and cute and clever. He bent and chuckled at whatever it was, and Uma knew: she’d been delusional about him. He’d never looked at her like that, all lazy and smiley. Not once.
I’m an idiot.He’d been nice to her, letting her sleep in his bed, kissing her and the other stuff, but she realized it was all out of pity. Jessie had been wrong. Ivan didn’t like Uma; he felt sorry for her.
She buttoned up and waved vaguely before heading out.
18
