Chapter Seven
Adam
Keri gasps sharply and sits up straight on the stump, clutching her knees as she stares at me. I search her face for a clue. Her eyes are wide, but I can’t tell if the flicker there is surprise, admiration, or anger.
“What?” I chuckle.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before I started dancing and prancing around like a fool in the lavender fields?”
“You’re not a fool. And would it have made a difference?”
“Yes.”
She stands, and I fumble to get on my feet. She won’t even look at me.
“Hey.” I duck to catch her eye. “Keri, look at me.”
She finally blinks back at me, her blue irises rimmed with frustration, her pupils wide with tension. There’s guardedness in her gaze.
“Why does it matter that I’ve photographed Ridge Wilson before? I’ve taken thousands of pictures of people all over the world. That’s my job.”
“Yeah, but forPeoplemagazine? You should’ve told me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, and I take a step back from her and shrug. “What are you planning to do with my pictures?” She gestures toward my camera on the ground.
“I’ll send them to you, for your use.” I notice her hands shaking. I gently take one in mine, pressing it between my palms. “Why is this such a concern, Keri?”
Her sigh is audible as she looks at our hands. “I didn’t expect you had worked with such a high-profile client. You’re a successful, sought-after photographer. That’s kind of amazing.”
I lead her back to the stump and motion for her to sit down. “I’m just a normal guy with a knack for taking good pictures. You sure it’s not something else?”
She looks up at me and shakes her head.
“You can tell me.”
I can see Keri’s defenses, the way she puts up walls to keep people at a distance. Part of me wonders if that toughness is armor or just a habit. I find myself drawn to the cracks in her calm. Curious about the truths she guards so closely. Does her confidence cover something deeper, something fragile? I want to find out what she’s protecting, and why it matters so much to me.
She studies my face before she exhales an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. I once had a photographer use a very unbecoming photo of me without my permission.”
I furrow my brow and kneel in front of her. “Use it how?”
She hesitates. “They were backstage photos of me at one of the pageants. You know, a glimpse into the life of a beauty queen. It was an article for a regional magazine. I was thrilled to be chosen for it. Imagine my surprise when I finally received a copy with my picture on the front page, leaving very little to the imagination.”
“What kind of photo?” My blood pressure rises.
“I was sitting in front of a lit-up mirror, taking off my show makeup, wearing a robe. I don’t even remember the guy taking that photo. I was so embarrassed.”
“If it was the cover, maybe it wasn’t that bad.”
“I was mortified. I mean, what beauty queen wants to be seen in arobeon the cover of a magazine, huh? My father was livid and threatened to sue. But I’d signed a release agreement and had no legal rights to the images. I should’ve known better.”
I’m taken aback when she leans forward and looks me right in the eye, her voice holding an accusatory tone. “You’re not doing some kind of article forPeoplemagazine about washed-up beauty queens in small towns, are you?”
“No,” I answer quickly, holding back a smile. I want her trust. I need to break through her wall.
She gently presses her palms against my cheeks. “Then tell me the truth.Whyare you here in Heartsboro?”
I stagger for a breath and stare at her beautiful face up close. This girl is a serious knockout. Super model beauty if I’m being truthful. I’ve been around my fair share of gorgeous women in this business, but none of them compare to her flawless genes. She’s a natural beauty. The kind that seems to be extinct these days in La-La land. I grip her hands by the wrist and slowly pull them away from my face.
“Fair enough. You allowed me to take your photo, so I’ll tell you exactly why I’m here in Heartsboro.”
