“Did you really think we were friends?”
This stopped her. Was this true? Were they never friends? Her jaw tightened as hurt spiraled inside her torso. “I had friends in high school, but I also had people who were nice to me because they wanted to be in my group for whatever project was being assigned. Probably because, no matter what I had to do, I would deliver the grade, even if it meant taking everything on myself. You never used me like that, so, yes, I thought of you as a friend.”
His lips stretched into a straight line, appearing unimpressed as he shrugged a single shoulder. “Well, maybe you saw friendship, but I saw myself being forced to interact with you. I certainly didn’t have any choice in the matter. But if you believe that makes a friendship, then that’s on you.”
Mia studied his dark eyes, which revealed no emotion besides a cool distance. “It may have started out that way, but—” The second part of her sentence disintegrated in the air between them.
He took in her defensiveness. “Maybe now we can get some real honesty. Did you feel sorry for me? Was I a pet project for you? Someone for you to rescue?”
In high school, and present day, Mia had felt a lot of things in regards to Ross, and not all of them were good, including jealousy, frustration, and aggravation. She would even throw in attraction if she was truthful about it. These days, she spent far too many daydream moments remembering his well-defined, naked torso on the dusty trail path.
Her cheeks heated, and Ross acknowledged it with a nod. “Maybe there’s some truth to it then. It must be hard for someone like you, someone who will do anything to deliver the grade, to have dealt with such a lost cause.”
Her emotions shifted from embarrassment to anger. Mia leaned closer, her eyes locking onto his. “Maybe I was a silly, naïve girl back then, and maybe I still have my moments, but I’ve never treated you with pity, Ross Manasse. And, yes, I did think of you as my friend back then, and perhaps it’s foolish to think I can be friends with you now. But currently, you’re being an absolute asshole for no reason. You clearly have more respect for your raw gems and their imperfect but beautiful existence, than you do for yourself or for me.”
With this, she set the camera on a table and abandoned the workshop, slamming the door behind her. He succeeded in bringing her down to the dark. She’d failed once again.
Chapter Fourteen
Ross’s workshop fellinto a quiet, but unsettling, solitude after Mia stormed out. It had never been emptier than it was at this moment. His day had been off-balance ever since he got up early this morning to take Hermes to the vet. Then she appeared in El Dorado Jewelry with the camera bag slung over her shoulder, and her dimple breaking through without an ounce of restraint.
Mia was nothing but an invader in this space. It was a rare occasion for Luna to enter his workshop. The area belonged to Ross, his grandfather, and, to an extent, Hermes. But his grandfather was gone, and Hermes was doing his first chemotherapy treatment. His world was on a skewed plane, and Ross didn’t like the wobbling that occurred under his feet whenever she was around. He missed the silent, steady workday he used to be able to depend on, without any attention, dimples, or Mia buttering him up with kind words. None of it was natural, not to Ross.
He glanced at Hermes’s empty shop bed. The shabby sage-green cushion cratered in the center as if the dog’s spirit was taking a phantom nap. Ross missed his dog. He missed his grandfather. He missed Luna. Mia’s chattiness and forced friendliness did nothing to change this.
He scanned the workshop to find some remnants of his grandfather here. The one thing Ross could look at was the leather apron he wore. This was the dearest physical token remaining.
Mia was correct about one thing. Ross wished there was some visual memento of Victor doing what he loved, instead of depending on his own memory, something more faded with each passing day. When did Ross become so sentimental? He was sure when his world was no longer tilting, everything would slip back into its original position.
Ross abandoned his carving wax, taking a seat on the stool, which had been occupied by Mia ten minutes earlier. He supposed her exit, and the abandoned camera on the table, was her way of telling him she was done, she’d given up on the lost cause once again. At last, she understood the reality of the situation. He did not need her. He did not want her. Sure, Ross preferred not being so blunt and his gut dropped at the clear hurt reflected in Mia’s face, but whatever connection existed between them before meant nothing in the present. Ross would not be affected by her. He ignored the jump in his heartbeat due to her nearness or when her fingers swept through his hair or adjusted the strap around his neck. He’d also ignore how much his body yearned to fit within her soft curves, to dip his face into the gentle swoop of her neck, and feel her arms wrap around him in an encompassing hug. To accept a real connection meant letting his guard down. Ross had to ignore it because his guard was hisonlyprotection, and he didn’t need to be taken care of. Not by her. Not by anyone.
He took the camera and twisted the top dial to preview mode. His finger clicked the shuttle button as Ross went through her images, the most recent being the photos she took in his workshop. He never considered his occupation to be anything extraordinary. It was his job, and, like him, nothing special. But, through her images, he discovered a way to see himself as Mia saw him, to see through her lens in every literal sense. There were a few wider shots, showing him immersed in his work in quiet composure. His posture, a bowed head and hunched shoulders, snapped Ross’s memory to Victor. Through some unknown sorcery, Mia had gifted him something which seemed impossible. The camera transformed itself into an apparatus of an oracle. He was given a vision of past and present, seeing both himself and a younger version of his grandfather. Ross shook his head at the ridiculous conclusion his brain envisioned. Hewasgetting too sentimental.
The majority of Mia’s images fell into the category of the close-ups, with a focus on the hard to notice details. Her photography captured his dirty hands, the tools in the pocket of his apron, the wax models which were at one point deemed unworthy. Ross could admit, she had an excellent eye. Her pictures were good.
Ross didn’t need her. He and Luna and Hermes had managed fine this whole time. The little jewelry store could continue to ramble in quiet existence because he’d make it work. It’s not as though the store was about to go out of business. But, if Ross was honest, he wasn’t sure how long he could afford to let it ramble, or if it was time for him to consider the future.
For the first time in his life, Ross was stuck at the helm of El Dorado Jewelry alone. He had an employee to pay for. Luna was counting on him to bring in money for her education and future. Plus, he had Hermes’s lymphoma treatment to fund. If Ross thought about it for too long, the tidal wave of financial responsibility threatened to overcome him. It was time to face facts. Pride was not enough to live on. And it was nothing but his pride pushing Mia away, to prove he wasn’t weak. Although his bitter words this afternoon may have shown the opposite.
A few days later, he entered Pony Expresso. The coffee shop was empty, and Mia’s eyes were on him as he made his way to the counter. There was no dimple in greeting. “What can I get for you?” She kept her eyes on the register, slipping a strand of hair behind her ear.
Ross removed the camera bag from his shoulder, placed it on the counter, and slid it across to her. She tracked the movement before lifting her gaze to him.
“I want to continue with our deal,” was all he said.
Her eyes dropped to the black bag as his hands held its edges, but she didn’t move. It was as though all life inside the small coffee shop had stopped, awkward silence filling every space.
She shifted, still avoiding him. “I don’t think—”
“Mia.” He waited until her eyes met his own. “What I said before—I’m sorry. I was having a rough… I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry for what I said.” It had been a long time since Ross had been this sorry. He suddenly didn’t want to disappoint her or for her to give up on him. “Can we try again? Please.”
Mia’s lips turned into a slight smile. “Okay.” She took possession of the camera bag, her fingers brushing his for a moment before he released it to her with a feeling of relief sweeping through him.
The following evening, she entered Ross’s store with the camera bag, tripod, and a box full of odds and ends. He locked the door and followed her to a glass display case where she set down her items and equipment. Investigating the contents of the box, he found two small lights, sticks, rocks, moss, and other random things. It appeared Mia may have gathered them on a nature hike in the surrounding area.
“What is all this stuff?” he asked.
“Oh, I just grabbed a few things I found walking around the neighborhood yesterday. You never know what props might help make the image and the jewelry…well,pop, so, I just brought a bunch of things, and we’ll see what works.”
