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There’s the grate of a downtown drain. A weed growing out of the sidewalk. The corner of an old and weathered park bench.
A rose with what could be a bug or is it a drop of blood.
I realize pretty quickly that I’m way out of my depth here. This is more art than what I expected as photography, which shows how much I know.
But Krystal still thinks I’m the editor of Chord magazine, and I know secretly she wants a foot in the door. A career path doing what she loves.
They’re high-quality images, and even though I don’t understand or ‘get’ the deeper meaning in a lot of them, they’re very well done.
“You should be proud,” I tell her. “I hope you got top of the class with work like this,” I tell her truthfully.
She blushes, looking at her feet.
“I nearly flunked,” she confides in me. “My technical stuff saved me, but all my teachers hated my subject matter. Said it was too…”
“Artsy?” I hear myself ask, not meaning to say it out loud, but hey. If she wants to work in photography she has to learn to accept not everyone is gonna appreciate what she does.
“That’s exactly what they said,” she groans, trying to take the folder back, but I keep it in front of me, asking to see the rest.
“You’re just being kind now,” she murmurs.
“No. I’m interested in what you do, Krystal.” I explain to her. “I might not see the real essence of what you’re getting at here, but these really are terrific images,” I tell her again.
I wish I was the editor of some magazine. I’d hire her on the spot.
“Good enough for ‘Chord’ magazine,” she challenges me, giving me a ‘thanks for trying to make me feel better’ look.
“There’s more than just magazines,” I remind her. Remembering what I had to learn myself when I was her age, right up until about ten years ago.
“What counts is finding your passion, then looking for a space out there in the world where it fits,” I tell her.
“And then what?” she asks, looking beaten before she’s even started.
“Then charge like hell when people wanna see it or use it,” I explain.
“Who’d pay to see these?” she complains and I shrug.
“Who’d pay to use them, or have them taken for them?” I counter and I see a light come back into her eyes before she leaps into my arms and kisses me.
“You’ve just given me a great idea,” she whispers. “Thank you, Blake. It means a lot.”
“You mean a lot,” I tell her, making her blush again, but this time not out of embarrassment.
“I think you’d better get me to that fancy hotel,” she grins, almost warning me how close she is to being ready for me again.
I don’t think I’ve ever gotten ready or left to go to a hotel quicker in my life.
Chapter Fifteen
Krystal
“Don’t you need to take anything?” I ask Blake, who seems ready to leave right now. Even making a face when I tell him I need to shower and pack some things.
“We can just get what we need as we go,” he says impatiently, looking wounded when I ask him if he’s gonna take a shower at some point.
“Do I smell?” he asks, lifting his arm and thrusting his own head in for a sniff of his pit.
“You smell amazing,” I tell him, hinting he should at least bring some of the cologne he wears with us. I love it.
“What’s the rush anyhow? You on the run or something?” I ask.
I mean, I’m eager to get somewhere we can truly be alone but I at least want to have a shower and get dressed first.
He smiles, relaxing instantly, taking both my hands in his.
“Just a little too keen to claim what’s mine, I guess,” he admits bashfully, bending down and pecking me on the cheek.
“Maybe you could have a shower after all?” I suggest. His eyes narrow and his hands hook around my waist.
“We could save water and take one together,” he croons, and as much as I like the idea I know there’s no way both of us will fit in our shower cubicle.
Even if a part of him was inside me.
I wonder if his shower’s any bigger and I ask. He looks puzzled for a second, “You’re right. I barely fit in mine, so yours would be the same,” he says quickly.
“Well, don’t be long,” I tell him, hurrying him along by glancing at the door which he takes as his cue to leave me temporarily.
No breakfast, just coffee.
I wonder if that’s how he functions. Maybe that’s his key to staying in such great shape?
Me, I’m starving so I grab a couple of granola bars, and munch them down quickly before heading to the bathroom to get ready.
I resolve to take my new dress which I laid out last night and as I shower I make a mental list of everything else I figure I’ll need for a few days away.
