Page 51 of Nailed

Callum nodded and I welcomed the two of them inside before getting ready for the day and my first booking since I moved to Chicago. With everything that happened with Rafe, I didn’t even get the chance to be excited about it but work was exactly the break I needed.

It was a band photo shoot contracted by one of Clara’s friends’ colleagues’ pet sitter’s kid’s teacher or some weird connection like that. But either way, I was grateful beyond words, both to Clara for even facilitating that connection but also for the opportunity itself. This was what I needed, to be back in my element and regain some sense of normalcy.

I cleaned up, grabbed my camera, a speedlight and some extra LED sticks. I managed to bundle everything up and headed out, only to almost collide with a still-somber looking Rafe.

“Hey,” I said in surprise, stopping to talk to him for a bit but all he did was nod his head in greeting and continue straight into the firehouse. I went cold all over, with shock or anger or, God forbid, more fear.

I watched as he disappeared behind the doors, staring for a few moments after he was long gone. Sudden movement caught my attention and my head snapped down the road to see a random car slowly roll by, its windows suspiciously tinted for a quaint little pocket in Chicago.

My gut screamed at me that something wasn’t right. In all the time I’d spent here so far, cars didn’t just slow-roll by the firehouse for no reason, let alone one with tinted windows. I waited until it disappeared before I continued on my way to meet my Uber.

When I was safe in the back seat of the car, I texted Clara.

Me: Hey. Weirdness is happening. Just saw a weird tinted car drive by the firehouse.

Clara: Are you sure you’re not just nervous for the shoot today and the Rafe thing? Maybe a bit skittish?

Me: No, I mean it. Something was off, they drove slowly. Like they were looking for something.

Clara: Oh. That’s different. Any idea of who it could be?

Me: Maybe one of the protesters? These preservation maniacs are starting to creep me out and I’m so over this shit.

Clara: I hear you. We’re gonna get them off your tail soon enough.

I hoped she was right.

On the bright side, the shoot’s location was set in an abandoned warehouse, which meant lots of fun textures and interesting ways to manipulate the light to really take this to the next level.

It went well and for the first time in months, I felt wholly like myself. Not a woman caught between three men who knew what she wanted but was still torn when it came to getting it, or the target of smear campaigns or the outsider of a community that very clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

I was just Lauren with a camera, and I was damn good at my job.

The band was a breakout group whose music straddled a gritty, almost classic type of rock and a sugary mass-appealing pop that was ironic but, hell, was still pretty good.

The client was happy with the concept of a light-and-shadow theme, playing with the natural environment. It was nice to just fall into the patterns behind composition work, and by the end of the shoot, both the band and their manager were pleased. As I showed them some of the shots through my camera, the manager shared a look with the lead member, who seemed to nod in approval.

“Lauren, these are perfect,” the manager said, pulling out his phone. “To thank you, we’d love to give you and a few friends free VIP tickets to our show this weekend.”

“That’s really generous of you,” I said. “I really dig your music so it should be an awesome time.”

“Great! I’ve just sent them via email. I hope this is the start of a long collaborative relationship,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it gratefully.

You and me both, buddy, I thought. You guys pay well.

I came back from the photo shoot on cloud nine, feeling more optimistic about everything now that I was starting to work again. It was more than just a chance to exercise my passion or make sure I kept a roof over my head, it was a chance to reestablish myself again. I let myself soak in it, right up until I walked through the door of the firehouse.

Rafe was finally vocal again, except this time he wasn’t speaking. He was shouting at Brock and Brock was shouting back. I’d never seen either of them this angry before.

20

Lauren

“Okay, what’s going on here?” I asked, stepping into the bay and trying to sound as calm as possible. I may as well have stepped into a freezer with the cold hostility casing the room. I could tell from the tension that they were on the verge of breaking out into an actual physical fight. Callum stood close by, his body primed to jump in if he needed to.

Despite the occasional bickering they’d done over the course of this project so far, it’d never looked this serious before. Rafe turned to face me, his eyes uncharacteristically full of emotions that I couldn’t pin down but neither of the two men seemed willing to answer me.

“I’m serious. Someone tell me what happened,” I demanded with more authority in my voice this time.