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One that stands out is of a homeless man feeding his dog something from a dumpster. The picture captures the loyalty and sheer adoration on the dog’s face, but at the same time, the pride and satisfaction on the man’s. That simple joy of being able to give his friend some food. Both dog and man are not unhappy in this picture. Yet it produces such sad emotions and shows us that not all friendship is conditional; not all friendship is valued on what a person's worth is. Never has a photograph sat so heavy on my heart as this one does.
Another picture is of two small children holding hands as they laugh at one another, so innocent and pure. It makes me want to know what the joke is. I smile as I look at it.
Each picture in the pile captures the perfect moment in time, whether happy or sad, tragic or celebrative. Every single piece is like an unframed artwork.
“Help yourself.” I hear Indie’s voice behind me. I carefully place the photograph of an abandoned building down on the table and casually turn around.
“You could have given me the heads up, you know,” she says, but her words are not what has my attention. It’s her fucking dress. Sage green lace hugs every inch of her, right down to her ankles. It would be see through if not for the nude slip she’s wearing underneath. She looks incredible in it. I knew what she would be wearing because I’d chosen the dress for her and had it delivered this morning. I’d pictured her in it when I made my selection. Never did I imagine this though. It’s like the dress was made around her. The lace looks like intricate green tattoo’s all over her flawless body. I’m glad to see she is putting on some weight. The bones in her chest and shoulders are less predominant, and her cheeks look fuller. Her complexion is less pale and more vibrant with the creases of exhaustion under her eyes slowly fading. She still could do with more weight, but I know in time, she’ll fill out more if she keeps working for me. I know I pay her way too much for her position. However, as I stand here and look at how much healthier she is, I know I’m doing something right.
Her hair is out in loose curls that accentuate her bronzed skin. The light golden swirls frame her naturally beautiful face. It dawns on me that I have never actually seen her hair down before. It’s longer than I had thought, almost touching the base of her spine. I can’t help imagining tangling my fingers in it as I bend her over the sofa and fuck her from behind. I shake off the thought as my cock grows heavy in my suit pants.
Indie’s makeup is a little heavier than normal. Her eyelids are dusted with a shimmery green, and her eyeliner curls out at the ends like wings. She’s stunning.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” I admit, clearing my throat as it comes out rough and shaky.
“What are you doing here?” She ignores my compliment.
“I’m picking you up for June’s party.”
She raises her brows. “Is Pharrell sick or something?”
I chuckle. Her attitude is extra guarded tonight; it’s also adorable. “No, I wanted to come myself.”
“Why?”
I look at her apologetically. “You know why, Indie.”
She drags her bottom lip into her mouth before opening it to say something, but she’s cut off by her brat of a brother. “Wow, boogers, you look hot!” He walks up to her and touches the lace on her dress. “I hope you don’t have to pay him back for the dress too, or you’ll be his slave forever.”
“Austin, don’t be so rude.” Indie clips him on the shoulder. “Go away.”
Austin gives me another look over head to toe, then puffs his skinny little chest out. “You touch her, and you will have me to deal with.” He starts to walk away. “I know people too, Judge, so don’t think I’m joking with you.”
I fight the urge to laugh at him. I’m not scared of him or his threats, yet I do admire his protectiveness for Indie. It’s cute. That’s why I nod and say nothing back to him. He seems satisfied with that and walks away.
“Boogers?” I smirk at Indie. Her cheeks are blushed. She’s mortified at her brother, but when she sees my grin, her eyes soften, and her shoulders relax a little.
“Don’t you dare,” she warns, trying not to smile.
I turn back to the photos. “These are really good, Indie. Why don’t you do something with these?” I hold up the one with the man and his dog. “You could get good money for them.”
She mocks a laugh. “Nobody is going to pay good money for a no-name amateur photographer.”
“You never know until you try.” I shrug.
“Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s a tough industry. You have to know the right people to make anything of it.” She grabs her purse off the side of the sofa. “Can we go now?”
That’s Indie’s way of saying, ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’ Whenever I try and get something out of her, she adds another level to that wall she has built around herself. I resign from the conversation because, as much as I want to push her right now, I don’t want to argue with her this evening. Tonight, I want to make it right with her. I want her to look at me again like she did the first night I met her. The night she didn’t know who I was, or what kind of man I truly am.
“Here, put this on first.” I pull out the small jewelry pouch from my suit jacket and hand it to her.
“What’s this?” She looks at me hesitant and confused.
“It’s a gift. Open it.”
She cocks her head to the side as she inspects the pouch. I smile at her. “It won’t bite you; I promise.”
Slowly, she opens the pouch and pulls out the gold necklace. It has her initial in pave set diamonds. Her mouth opens as she sucks in a breath.
