He smiled as he sat down on her bed next to her, taking the camera and advancing it back a few more shots.
“See that violet there?” he told her. “On the horizon? That was when it cleared up for a few minutes. I think we’d be getting an aurora if it was clear. The Northern Lights are more common in winter, but subtle versions can happen in summer, too. These clouds are frustrating.”
She nodded, and he gave her a soft look that was hard to read.
“Your curls are out,” he said after a moment.
“It’s the humidity,” she said.
He nodded. “They’re cute paired with those pajamas.”
She stared at him. His hair was damp from the rain. She had an impulse to drag him into bed with her. Not a helpful thought. She watched him take a slow breath and release it. Did he want to kiss her, too? Was that what was happening? Her breath grew shallow as his gaze searched her face.
“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly. “It’s one reason I invited you on this trip.”
She couldn’t breathe at all.
“I used to date this woman named Freya. She lived in Europe but she would fly out to come help with my workshops. I recently broke up with her, and I was wondering if you might be interested in the position. As my assistant. I run about seven of these workshops a year, and I could pay you about ten thousand dollars each. Some would be less, some more, depending on the length. I would cover airfare and hotel as well, of course. I’m not saying it would earn you a great living, but if you wanted to go back to full-time photography, it would give you a chance to do it. And I think this week has gone really great so far.”
Her heart ached. Some stupid, childish part of her had wanted him to tell her he loved her, desired her, even if it wasn’t in the same, all-consuming way that he had once loved Freya or his wife.
But it was just as well that he hadn’t. Her head had been drifting into the clouds, and now she felt like she was firmly back in the real world.
“That’s a really kind offer,” she said, looking away from him so he couldn’t read her expression. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.” He got up off the bed. “Absolutely. There’s no pressure at all. I was hoping maybe this could be a trial run to see if you liked it.”
“I do like it,” Sarah said. “I have to think whether I can commit to that.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
She watched as he walked around the room, slipping his camera batteries back into a bank of chargers set up by the wall, putting an SD card into a reader attached to his laptop, then heading into the bathroom to shower.
When he was out of sight, she lay back and considered what he was offering her. If she became his assistant, she wouldn’t get rich, but it was enough money that she could quit her job. It would give her the time to do theMy Divorceseries she was thinking about. It would give her a creative life back. And the only cost would be that she would pine for Ren, just a little, for a few weeks a year.
Who was she kidding? She would pine for Ren all the time.
She took a long deep breath and slid deeper into the covers.
She thought of Selassie’s words:The way he looks at you… I think he’s in love with you.
He must look at everyone like that.
14
WEDNESDAY
The hotel was surroundedby a wall of grey mist when Sarah woke in the morning; she couldn’t even see down to the bay that stretched out a few hundred feet below them.
Ren was already gone. (Did he ever sleep?) There were a croissant and some fruit waiting for her on a plate. She glanced at the clock; she had a few more minutes to get breakfast in the hotel restaurant, which meant that Ren had brought this just in case she didn’t wake up in time.
She was being wooed…wooed to be his assistant.
She sat up and rubbed her face, then saw that he had left a note:Kyle wanted to grab some shots of beach at sunrise in the rain. Rest up. See you this afternoon.
She felt a brief flash of annoyance at Kyle for treating the week like some kind of macho no-sleep marathon with Ren, who couldn’t easily say no.
When she was up and dressed, she grabbed a quick cup of coffee in the lobby, where Tanjul and Binita were looking out at the view, and then returned to her hotel room and opened her work email. Still no official email saying she was terminated. Was she? Or had Owen just been throwing a fit as part of his ‘management philosophy?’
