As his eyes sweep over the canvas of his backyard, I reach for my camera, finagling it into position. I raise the camera to the front of my face, which is nearly level with the short grass of his yard.
“Hello, Daddy…” I smirk as I zoom in on him, getting multiple prime shots. His face, hued perfectly by the shadows and dim rays from his porch light.
He moves slowly down the steps towards his pool, and the grass lights up in front of me as my phone reminds me of the text from earlier. Luckily, it’s face down. I lift it and find a message from my work friends, Troy and Alice. I ignore it, turning it off before shoving it back in my pocket.
I turn my attention back to Zane, who is now pre-swim stretching.
Good lord…
I bite my lip to prevent drooling as I watch him bend and twist and flex and bulge.
For a moment, I forgot that I have a job to do, and it doesn’t involve touching myself.
Photos. Money. Right.
He’s a person, after all. Not an object to be lusted after.
And yet…
Every time he moves, his shorts twist tighter around the gift God so generously gave him, leaving very little to the imagination.
My imagination has enough material right now to create a night-long fantasy in my head. It just might be my most replayed re-run on those cold and lonely nights I’ve grown accustomed to since my recent divorce.
I snap a burst of photos as he moves from one lunge to another before turning his back to me. He then heads for the glistening water of his pool.
He dives in, and I use the opportunity to sit up. Now that he is in the water, I am going to need a better hiding place. I need a better vantage point with altitude.
My eyes land on the wooden, plant-covered pergola above the hot-tub.
Bingo.
As he laps the pool, I sneak around the back of the bushes. Next to the hot tub is a permanent grill set in brick, the perfect step-stool for getting on top of the pergola.
I watch to make sure Zane is underwater before pulling the hood of my black sweatshirt over my head. I throw my camera strap over my shoulder and shimmy up the pergola.
I lay low on my stomach right in the middle of the wooden beams and smile. It’s not exactly the most comfortable place to work from, but I think it wins the award for most creative.
Honestly, I don’t think people understand how far paparazzi will go to get the perfect shot. I certainly didn’t. It’s both impressive and disturbing.
As Zane’s head emerges from the pool water at one end and then the other, I click the button as many times as my finger is capable of.
After about three minutes, he stops at the other end, plopping up on the edge of the pool. His hands rest on the edge, flexing his veiny arms. His glistening chest rises and falls jaggedly as he catches his breath. He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it with his fingertips.
My camera clicks as I continue to take pictures…hopefully not too loud.
Then I hear a creak, and it’s not coming from my camera.
Zane perks up like a German Shepherd, and I stop breathing.
Everything that happens next feels like it is in cinematic slow motion.
The wooden beams snap and my weight shifts.
It isn’t until the pergola gives out entirely and I am falling into the bubbling water below me that I even realize what is happening.
I don’t even have time to scream.
Chapter 2
