He laughs. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Keri Clayton.” His big dog barks, causing me to release his hand and take a step back. “And this is my dog, Molly. She’s a Golden Retriever.”
I watch with astonishment as Molly lifts her paw off the ground and offers it to me, her training impressive.
“She won’t bite either, I promise.”
My eyes go back and forth between Adam and Molly before I tentatively shake the dog’s paw with my index finger and thumb. “I’m… not much of a dog person. I prefer cats.”
Adam presses his lips together with disappointment. “Well, that’s too bad.” He leans forward, grabs the flimsy metal sign from the yard, and examines it. “Is this you?” He points tothe corner photograph, my beaming, professional smile on full display next to the Heartsboro Real Estate logo.
I stand up a little straighter with my chin thrust out, proud of my branding since I took over the family business. “Yes, it is.”
Adam scrunches his nose and holds the sign farther from his body with his arms outstretched, as if to get a better view from a different angle.
“What?” I’m frowning, bewildered by his deliberate actions, unsure of what to say.
“This doesn’t work. The photographer clearly didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Why?” I didn’t mean for my one-word reply to come out dripping with sarcasm. “And for your information, my photographer is a she.” His eyes lock with mine, his honest answer leaving me speechless.
“Well,shedidn’t know what she was doing. Because you, Keri Clayton, are much prettier in person.”
Chapter Three
Adam Woodbury
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I like getting a reaction out of Keri. I’ve done it a few times during our short conversation, and each time, I have to hold back a chuckle as I watch her pretty brow knit with confusion, her pale cheeks blushing with a pinkish hue. This girl clearly doesn’t joke around much.
“Well, I’m not trying to look pretty. I’m trying to look professional,” she retorts.
She crosses her arms tightly against her chest, standing stiffly, as if bracing herself to make a point. I can’t quite tell what she’s trying to prove with the gesture.
I nod. “Yes. You definitely look like a pro in this photo. You remind me of one of those stock image models posing for photos you can buy online for a corporate website.” I set the sign downand walk toward my van, my boots crunching over the gravel. I look over my shoulder and see Keri pause. She glances at the sign, then hesitantly follows, carefully placing each foot as she navigates the uneven terrain in her expensive shoes.
“What should I look like? This is my work attire. I’m a professional.”
I slide open the side door of my van, set my cell phone to the side, and fetch my toolbox from under a hollow floorboard. She watches me root around inside for a hammer. My phone pings the air with a ring. Before I can turn it to silent, she looks down and reads the caller’s name.
“Roxy.”
I nod and sheepishly flip it over. “I’ll call her back.” Clearing my throat, I continue with my earlier train of thought. “I think you could do better with your photograph, especially in a charming small town like Heartsboro. It’s a total vibe, you know? But your photo is a little… How should I say this?”
“Say it,” she insists. Her mouth is pursed in an adorable pout. I think I’ve hurt her feelings.
“Calm down, Keri. This is not a diss. It’s an observation from someone who knows a thing or two about photography, okay?” I grip the hammer and wave my free hand out in front of me for her to walk ahead toward the sign lying flat on the ground. “All I’m saying is, you missed the mark with the overall feel of your hometown. I mean, come on. Everybody probably knows youaround here. And for those who don’t, they might be intimidated by your professional look.”
“Why?”
“Well, it comes across a little… stuffy.”
“Stuffy?”
“Yeah. Nothing like the locals I’ve met around here in the last week. Don’t you want your potential clients to feel the small-town vibe when they see your pretty smile and right away think to themselves, ‘Hmm. That woman looks nice. I could do business with her.’”
“Of course I do.”
We stop at the sign, and I lift it up. “Is this where you want it?”
“Yes, please.”
