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I already ran a background check on all three before arriving today. No priors and nothing suspicious in anyone’s past. I hope today goes off without any hitches.
My eyes sweep over the pristine lobby, mainly decorated in black and white with mirrors behind the clerk’s desk that reflect Ava and me.
Watching the two of us next to each other, we don’t look mismatched. In my own mind, with all the extra time to think, I’d wondered if Ava and I had crossed the line and actually started a relationship how we would look together.
I certainly look like the stereotypical older man who’d gone after a younger woman. My attraction to Ava had nothing to do with her age, but because of how much younger she was, I knew we could never do anything about our desires. Not to mention Asher wanting to skin me alive. I’d be banned from anything to do with the Wells family.
“They’re waiting for you on the sixth floor,” the desk attendant says.
Ava says thanks and begins walking to the elevator. I look around the small area where the elevators are banked and notice only one emergency exit door and a stairwell.
As soon as the doors open to the sixth floor, Sierra immediately runs over to Ava and quickly pulls her toward a small hallway. I see it saysDressing Room.
Sierra ignores me, but I can’t blame her after our horrendous meeting a few days ago.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” I say.
“Okay,” Ava says. She looks as if she wants to say more, and I hold my breath, hoping I’ll get something more out of her than the deep sighs and annoyed looks I’ve been getting since the incident in my office two days ago.
Instead, she closes her mouth, fighting back whatever she wanted to say and shutting the dressing room door.
The photo studio is a large space, and I see an older man and woman setting up the kitchen where Ava will be taking her photos. There is a stove, countertop, and sink, all made to look like a real kitchen with 1960s decor.
There are monitors and various cameras around the fake kitchen setup. And I see the man assisting the photographer staging a plate of pasta and a glass of wine when the dressing room door flies open, and Sierra emerges first.
“Oh, wait until you see our girl. She looks amazing,” she squeals.
A few seconds later, Ava emerges.
Her hair is piled into a bun with a small tiara crown in the front, glittering off the sunlight streaming through the windows. A matching diamond necklace and bracelets adorn Ava. But the real showstopper is the dress.
Amazing doesn’t even cover how beautiful Ava looks in a strapless Tiffany blue dress with small, glittering jewels. If it weren’t for the color, it almost appeared as if Ava was dressed for her wedding.
“The cover is going to look amazing,” Sierra says.
“I hope so, “Ava says, brushing the front of the dress down. Her eyes briefly meet mine but then quickly break contact, and the two women begin moving over to the photo shoot set up.
I should’ve told her how beautiful she looked. But now I have to walk on eggshells around Ava, and it’s driving me insane.
Best to keep my mouth shut, since every time I opened it, my foot joined in.
The next half hour revolves around the many shots Ava had to take. One with the plate on the counter, one with the light on her hand, taking a sip of wine and then holding up the wine glass. I had no idea what went into cover photos for cookbooks. Clearly, they needed a lot of options.
The elevator dings, and I instantly move closer to see who’s arrived. It’s a man with a City Eats delivery bag, and Sierra makes her way over to him.
“You didn’t mention anybody else was stopping by,” I say to Sierra.
“Relax. Look, he’s already leaving,” she says. “I got lunch for all of us, so no need to go into a panic. I promise no one else is stopping by.”
Where I was standing, I’d be able to see if anyone else dropped in on the private shoot. The main entrance for this floor would be coming through the elevator, though I did see an exit stairwell adjacent to Ava’s dressing room.
While Sierra is pulling out the containers of Thai food, she briefly looks over at Ava and continues speaking. “The sales for this book are going to be insane. And with all new followers since New Year’s Eve, I know it’s gonna be a hit.”
Without waiting for my response, Sierra prattles on. “With all the followers she has now, I swear this ‘stalker’ is actually great publicity. I mean, bad for her, yes, but I feel like my job is already done.”
I’m not sure how to respond to Sierra’s words. She almost sounds glad to have her friend being stalked and harassed because it equates to more social media interest. Could someone stoop so low as to pretend to be a stalker, or even pay someone to harass Ava, just for some extra clickbait and likes?
It would devastate Ava that her supposed friend could be behind all this, so I won’t voice my theories. Yet.
