He groaned. “You gotta sell the people who mostly hold the cash and still catch the eyes of men, all right? You know the kinds of men I mean?”
I tried to sort out what he’d said in my head, but in the end gave up and nodded. I was half sure he was talking about snagging gay guys to buy the cologne. He wasn’t wrong because my friends liked to smell good, and so did I. Who didn’t, though? Didn’t straight guys buy this stuff? I knew I appealed to a lot of men because my Instagram DMs were always flooded with dick pics and thirsty messages from them, so whatever. He was probably right about me being a good choice.
“But there’s something missing from this shot!” Courtney sighed and glanced around. He stared with a wrinkle on his brow.
Please, God, let a wild, roving bus bust through the underbrush and take him out. It isn’t fair. Where is a bus when you need one?
He let out a shout, and I jumped, slamming a hand over my heart.
“Keep that pout! What were you thinking about? Something sad, love?”
“Devastating.” It was all I could do not to smirk.
“Oh, that’s too bad. I volunteer to help you feel better once we’re back at the lodge.”
Both assistants rolled their eyes this time, well out of Courtney’s line of sight, of course.
“Jones! Give me the Nikon!” Courtney yelled, lifting the strap of the camera he was using from around his neck. There was a scramble to switch out the cameras, and I finally felt like we were getting into the meat of the shoot when he barked, “Lovely, look up! Keep that pout! Knees bent more! Jones, throw some of those red leaves in the air, now! Keep doing it till I say stop.”
The redhead cleared his throat, earning a growl from Courtney. “Mr. Hart could get a tick from the leaf litter—”
“Then he’ll pull it out of his arse later, I don’t fucking care. I want the shots!” His voice echoed around the clearing.
Both assistants threw leaves as if their life depended on it, and I pouted, really visualizing that bus, or maybe a pack of rabid velociraptors, taking out Courtney Ryan. Seven hundred years dragged by before he laughed and clapped his hands. I was sweating from holding poses and my knees were beginning to ache from crouching and standing, then doing it all again at odd angles my body didn’t naturally turn.
“You can get back into your clothes for the trip out,” he called cheerfully, and I groaned in relief and flopped down on the rock. I was bone tired from the hike in and all the work, but there was only one path to civilization. We’d discussed hiring a helicopter to fly us from the lodge to a good location, but everyone had decided the expense wasn’t worth it, so I dragged on a pair of socks and hiking boots that the assistant with the long legs handed me, then gratefully took a T-shirt from Jones. I hadn’t bothered bringing any heavier clothing because it was warm when we started out, but with the sun sinking I was regretting it.
“I’m ready,” I said, then frowned at the assistants loaded down like pack mules. “I can take a couple of bags.”
“You won’t. That’s what they’re paid for,” Courtney snapped, and neither one of them would meet my eye. With a shrug, I followed Courtney from the clearing and back toward the winding trail we’d walked for at least an hour and a half to get here.
I was just settling in and enjoying the sound of birdsong here and there and all the fall leaves, when Courtney glanced at me over his shoulder with interest shining in his eyes.
Oh, fuck my whole life.
“So, what do you think about working in New York City? McKay has agencies all over the world. I work out of Brisbane a lot. And there’s an office in Thailand. I love to vacation there. You ever been?”
“No,” I said, giving him a soft, one-word answer that usually discouraged men like him.
But it didn’t.
He talked and talkedand talkedthe whole way back to the lodge, and he didn’t seem to need a lot of input from me to keep going. I was on to imagining the ground opening and swallowing me when he said, “And that’s how I won an award for best nature shot. I’m a multitalented photographer. Truly, I wanted to film natural wonders of the world, but after your fifth volcano it gets dull.”
“I’m more interesting than volcanoes?” I asked, mostly because he’d surprised me into tuning back in to the endless conversation, but then I could’ve slapped myself when he slowed to brush his fingers over the back of my hand.
“Oh, most certainly.”
I tried to tuck my hands into my pockets and lost the battle because the pants were leather and glued to my skin. With an awkward chuckle, I stepped away from him and adjusted the frames of my glasses.
“Very impressive. Why don’t you tell me more about the awards you’ve won?”There, that should keep him busy.
His chest puffed up and he started talking again. About ten minutes later we broke through the tree line to the head of the path. The resort came into view up a short slope from us where it sat on the crown of a tall hill, which gave us a breathtaking view of the purple mountains and fall foliage. I nearly broke down in tears of gratitude.Almost to safety.
We were rounding the side of the log-cabin inspired ski lodge, which served as a vacation spot for hikers and nature enthusiasts when it wasn’t snowing, and I could taste the freedom of my suite with its hot tub and room service. Maybe I would even go relax in the heated pool. There was an itch in the back of my mind, though. I hadsomethingI needed to do this evening and couldn’t remember what.
Courtney smiled at me, and I rearranged my plan. No, I wouldn’t go any place I could accidentally run into him. Hunkering down in my suite until Monday, which was only three days away, was a fine plan. Normally I would beg photographers for a couple of shots to use on my Insta page, but I didn’t want to owe this guy anything. I would let the contact from Inspiro Rouge send me whatever they wanted me to post.
He grabbed my arm and shooed his assistants ahead of us, and alarm bells began to ring in my head.Oh no.
