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Ivy grins. “What kind?”
I hold up the pitcher. “Black. I have cream and sugar. Anything more than that, we’re gonna have to stop by Starbucks.”
She grabs the extra mug from the counter and takes the pitcher from me, pouring herself a cup. “I guess I’ll have to rough it.”
My admiration, already high, grows just a little bit more.
Ivy walks over to the wall of windows that overlook the city. “This is incredible. I think I would sit here all day and all night just looking out at the city. It’s breathtaking.”
I walk over to stand beside her, trying to see it through her eyes and realizing that I’ve never really stopped to look…take it all in. For the first time, I think I am noticing the white of the snow outlining the rooftops, the silvery sparkle as the sun reflects off the frozen crystals. How have I missed this all this time?
Ivy looks around. “You don’t haveanythingChristmas up?”
“What’s the point? It’s just me,” I say as I shrug my shoulders indifferently.
Her green eyes shift to me, taking me in, her look somber. “Sometimes thatisthe point.”
“So, where do you want to start today?” I ask, changing the subject. Somehow, I feel as if she just looked inside me. I’m not used to that.
Ivy pauses thoughtfully. “I want to get several shots. We could do one of you running like you normally do on the weekends. You would have to change for the other shoots, though.”
I grin at her. “We can save that for another day. Maybe we can actually go jogging together. Do you run?”
Ivy’s head dips shyly. “Yes. When I have the time. That would be nice.”
“It’s a plan, then.” Why am I glad that I have another reason to see her? I grab my jacket. “Ready? Where to?”
Her eyes light up. “Where else but Central Park?”
I have the doorman call a car. Driving in New York is only palatable when I already know I have a parking space waiting on the other end. At Christmas, I’m not going to roll the dice and try.
The day is bright and sunny, warming up a bit as we reach the park. As we stroll through the grounds, Ivy begins taking random pictures of trees, park benches…people. I stop to pet the dog of a person walking by. As I stare into the animal’s trusting eyes, I hear a rapid clicking noise. Looking up, I realize Ivy is photographing me. “I wasn’t ready.”
She glances at the preview window. “Yes, you were. Remember, these are natural shots that show who you are outside of the office.”
I’m getting what I asked for.
“These are rough and will need a little finessing, but I think it’s a good start,” Ivy says as she shows me the photos on her camera.
As I scroll through the pictures, I’m once again impressed. In the shots, I appear relaxed and not the stuffy businessman that most people see. “You have a real talent.” Reaching in my pocket, I take out a piece of paper with some information scribbled on it. “As a matter of fact, I called Annie Leibovitz and discussed your work with her after you sent me the photos from the first shoot.”
Ivy’s head whips around, her eyes wide. “Annie Leibovitz? You discussed my photos withher? Why?”
“Your work is too good not to explore the possibilities. She has some room in her work schedule and offered to let you intern with her on one of her shoots.”
She stares at the sheet of paper clutched in her hand. “I don’t know what to say.” Her green eyes look up at me, shimmering with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“I think that’ll work,” I say with a smile as we continue walking, my step a bit lighter. “So, why are you going into business when this is so clearly your passion?”
Ivy slides her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “You’ve met my uncle. You should be able to figure it out.”
She has a point. “He seems a bit of a stickler for the rules. He is definitely your stereotypical accountant. Has he always been that way?”
“As long as I can remember,” Ivy replies with a nod. “I don’t remember much about my mother, but I remember that she seemed to be the exact opposite.” She pauses. “I can count on Uncle Owen, though. He may be strict, a bit boring, but he’s never let me down.”
It sounds as though there’s more to the story than that, but I let it go. We near a bridge that crosses the ravine. It is decorated with garlands and Christmas wreaths. Ivy’s eyes dance merrily. “Let’s get a picture of you there!” Her wish is my command.
She takes several more pictures as we walk along. Watching her with the camera, her love for photography is obvious. The most mundane details become magical through her eyes, and I find myself seeing things differently, noticing more.
