She shook her head quickly. That was the last thing on earth that she wanted, to find out that Ren still smelled the same. She held her arms tightly around her.
“I looked up your photography website,” she said. “It’s pretty amazing.”
“It’s the places I’ve been that are amazing.” At least he wasn’t showing off, she thought. But Ren had never been one to brag. She hadn’t loved him for no reason; he could be thoughtful and self-effacing when he wasn’t breaking hearts. “So how has the rest of your life been going?” Ren asked. “You split up from your husband, Paul said?”
“Our divorce was finalized a couple of months ago but we’ve been separated for almost a year.”
He nodded. “And no kids, right?” he asked. “The two of you didn’t…”
Sarah winced fractionally at the words. “No. No kids. How about you?” She was desperate to change the subject. “Any more kids for you? How is Jandro doing?”
She watched him twist his watch in a circle as he considered his answer. The familiar sight brought a painful echo of her old affection for him rising sharply in her chest. “Jandro is okay. He’s turning fourteen soon, and he’ll be starting eighth grade in the fall. He has ADHD, so that’s been tricky. Paola wants him to apply to private boarding schools for high school. She doesn’t like any of the schools near us and she thinks the atmosphere around Las Vegas encourages him to slack off. But I’ve taken him out on some photo workshops with me recently and that has been good. I think he’s one of those kids who needs to get away from the computer screen, do stuff with his hands.”
“You were a little like that,” Sarah said. “Restless.”
Ren nodded. “Yeah, he definitely got it from me, but I managed it better. I think there are too many distractions now. Video games and stuff. But he’s young. He can definitely turn things around.”
“Of course he can,” Sarah said kindly. She sometimes forgot that people with kids still had challenges: it didn’t mean their lives were perfect or that their kids were doing perfectly. “And did you get married again?”
“No.” His eyes fell to the ground in front of him. “Nothing serious for me in that department. I’ve dated a little, but I haven’t lived with anyone.”
“It’s hard to find someone,” Sarah said, though she felt sure that Ren would never find it hard to find someone.
He nodded. “I fell in love once, and that was it. No one else has measured up.”
“She didn’t appreciate you, though.”
A distant smile came to his face. “I think she did appreciate me but I didn’t know how to open up to her.”
Sarah took a breath. “Well, I can say that my decision to remain single after my divorce has been surprisingly relaxing. Once I removed the possibility of dating, my life has gotten a lot calmer.”
He gave her a curious look. “So no dating since the divorce?”
“No dating for me ever again.”
“Ah.” He looked out at the ocean and said nothing. Was that skepticism in his tone? The possibility annoyed her; surely Ren of all people could understand being cynical about relationships.
“I mean, not ever-ever,” she said, in the hopes of avoiding a debate. “But I can’t see it. Who knew that I would embrace the Rene Durand philosophy of no relationships ever? I’ve turned into you freshman year.”
“Not exactly.” He gave her a strange look. “Actually, I had a question for you.”
Something in Sarah’s chest started racing like a mouse on a wheel. Was he going to…? Surely not. Definitely not that, surely?
“I have a workshop coming up next week,” Ren said. “I scheduled it when I found out about Paul’s wedding. It’s a one-week night photography workshop in Gros Morne National Park.”
“That sounds beautiful.” The park was famous in Newfoundland—a spectacular region on the west coast with fjord-like bays and rolling hills. It was a seven-hour drive from her hometown, but she had gone there on an overnight camping trip in her teens.
“I’m taking ten people out to shoot there; we’re focusing on the Milky Way. New moon conditions. It should be pretty great if the weather holds. But I haven’t found an assistant to help out. I was wondering if you would be willing to do it.”
She was almost too surprised to answer. “Be your assistant?”
“For the workshop, yeah. I know you’re overqualified for assistant work, but I could really use a second person who knows what they’re doing.”
She felt at once relieved and devastated that he wasn’t asking something more personal, a feeling that she had no interest in examining. “So when is this?”
“The week right after the wedding. Monday through Friday. You’d have to take the week off work, but I could pay you for it. I was thinking ten thousand for the week, if you’re interested.”
The sum was a bit stunning. She had some debt left over from her divorce, and that would clear it entirely…if she could convince her horrible manager to let her take the time off. “You must be making good money from those workshops.”
