They both knew that they would never move in together, never get married, never grow old together. Maybe the best way to describe them was friends with benefits, but that didn't quite do it. When they went out together they were a couple, but then between times it was almost like they didn't know each other, going weeks on end with barely a message exchanged between them.
Whatever it was it worked for her and it worked for him... and it had the added benefit that while he worked on the periphery he had influence, and could help progress her career, at least in Mexico, behind the scenes, something that she was eternally grateful for.
Montana
Three years after Tulum, three years that had completely and utterly changed Luisa's life, the inevitable happened.
Finally, probably a year after Luisa had finally moved on from that night emotionally, the call sheet came in for a fashion shoot in the US Mid-West and Luisa's eyes settled on one name that stood out from all of the others.
Arabella Greenwood.
Bel.
Luisa read the name with a wry smile. Twenty one years old now, with Bel twenty three, the gap, obviously, was still two years but while in Tulum it had reflected almost a lifetime's gap in modelling and life experience, by the time of this shoot the gap was nothing. They were peers by that stage, both known in the industry if not outside it, both at about the same place in terms of profile, both with names that got asked for.
So, she reflected, this time there wouldn't be the imbalance. This time they would meet as equals.
And who knew what that might mean? Would there still be that connection after all that time?
Luisa wasn't sure, but she approached it with an open mind, keen to find out.
***
It was Montana this time. The first time that Luisa saw Bel again it was from across the paddock, early in the morning before the crew had finished their coffee. It was cold still, cold enough that she could see the steam rising from her own morning coffee, and Luisa was thankful to be wrapped up warm in a full length coat that went right down to her ankles.
Bel was already being photographed, sat on a fence rail, one knee hitched up in a careless pose that didn’t need a photographer to tell her how to make it any more perfect, looking effortlessly good in worn denim and a white shirt, half tucked in and with a few less buttons done up than if she’d been wearing it to walk down the street, her dark hair, longer now than it had been in Tulum, braided down her back, and a Stetson on her knee.
She almost looked approachable. Almost.
But even from a distance Luisa could see that nothing about Bel had softened. There was still the same cool, focused professionalism, the same presence that made it look like the various people involved in getting the shots were in her orbit, not her in theirs.
Luisa watched from the side, not just because it was Bel but also as a professional, picking up on what was working and wasn’t, working out how she could work best when it was her turn. That was something that she’d learned in the last three years: you can always learn, you can always develop… being professional meant throughout the whole shoot, not just when she was in front of the camera. You had to work hard to get ahead.
Then there was a moment, all too brief, between shots while the photographer talked to her assistant where Bel looked around and saw Luisa, a quick smile with genuine warmth as their eyes made contact, a smile that Luisa returned with a small nod of recognition.
Inside, Luisa felt her heart beat a little faster. Because she had the distinct feeling that Bel had been looking out for her just as much as Luisa had been looking out for Bel.
***
For three days they circled each other.
The ranch where the shoot was taking place was sprawling and expansive, the sky endless, the mountains in the background spectacular. Luisa figured even she with just her smart phone could take some spectacular shots, the scenery was so astounding.
The shoot was for a luxury brand trying to sell its version of the American West, all worn denim, low slung soft leather belts and faux cowboy boots. Luisa spent some of her time getting photographed on horseback, and a lot more time posing onweathered old fences and next to outbuildings, all with that scenery selling the dream in the background.
Bel and her posed often together, something about the way their respective looks worked together that caught the eye of the creatives, standing shoulder to shoulder in the dust, their bodies close but not touching unless directed, their eyes focused and professional as the cameras clicked.
And in the quiet between takes, they talked. It felt easy, completely different to three years before. Whereas back then there had been a huge imbalance in experience and power, almost a mentor guiding their mentee, now Bel spoke to her as an equal, with respect.
They talked about what they’d each been doing, they talked about people they knew in common, they marvelled that it had been three years. And they laughed, that was the biggest difference to before. Bel had a bone dry sense of humour and it worked well with Luisa’s, so that more than once they found themselves laughing together about something that left everyone else bemused.
But there was also something else there, something in the background, in the way their eyes met for a split second longer than necessary, the way when they posed together their bodies touched a little more than necessary. There was… interest, Luisa guessed was the best way to describe it, reciprocal interest.
Despite the obvious chemistry though they circled, warily. It was like they each had a fence around their inner most thoughts, their conversations limited to the more superficial topics and steering well clear of each other’s love lives, and going nowhere near what had happened in Tulum.
***
On the third and final night they had the obligatory party, this time set around a bonfire as the sun set from a cold, blue sky.
