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CHAPTER 4:
George
My phone rings, and I press the speaker button. “Yes?”
“Ivy Reynolds is here,” Anita informs me.
“Send her in.” After the day I’ve had, Ivy will be a welcome break. When she walks in, I have to remind myself that this is just a business meeting. Something about her makes me want to walk up to her and take her in my arms, smell her perfume that has been with me since the other evening.
Instead, I try and give her an even smile. “Come in. How was your day?”
Her look is a tad nervous. “Fine,” she says as she lays her bag on one of the chairs. “You look…different.” She laughs a little anxiously. “Perhaps I should say you look normal.”
I look down at my suit, realizing her meaning. “Normal is probably correct.”
Ivy takes out her equipment. “Are you ready to start?”
“I think,” I say a bit unsurely. “What do you want me to do?”
She grins. “I take it you’re not used to being on this side.”
“What side?” I ask, bewildered.
“I’m the one giving the orders for a change,” Ivy says with a chuckle. “New territory, I take it?”
“Perhaps you’re right.” I sit down behind my desk, crossing my feet to rest upon it as I place my hands behind my head. “Tell me where to start.”
She snaps a quick picture before I even realize what she is doing and looks at the review window of her camera with a smile. “I think that’s a good place.”
“No fair! I wasn’t ready.”
Ivy holds her camera at a side angle and snaps another picture. “Sometimes those are the best ones.”
The sitting, if you can call it that, flies by. She gets me talking about anything and everything, and the next thing I know, she’s taking a picture. By the time she says we’re done, I have to wonder what the final photos will look like. When she leaves, she promises to e-mail me the pictures in a day or two.
As the door shuts behind her, the room suddenly feels empty…quiet. Sighing, I return to work reviewing some files. After all, that’s my life, if you can call it that.
***
It’s a little after two on Friday when I receive an e-mail from Ivy. She’s attached the photos from the other day. Looking at them, I can’t help but be amazed. I don’t know how she did it, but she had been able to do what I thought was impossible. All of the photos show a man in charge, full of confidence. Beyond all of that is something more. She has managed to capture an openness that I had thought was long forgotten.
Emailing her back, I tell her how much I like the pictures and give her instructions to my penthouse to meet me for the shoot tomorrow.
Once she confirms our appointment, I decide to make a phone call. It’s time to call in a personal favor.
***
It’s Saturday morning. As I’m pouring a cup of coffee, the doorman rings from below to confirm Ivy’s arrival, and I instruct him to send her up.
I smile as I let her in. She’s dressed in black leggings and an oversized gray sweater that gives her an elfin look. I suppose that’s appropriate. After all, it is the Christmas season, though sometimes I forget.
Ivy enters, looking around, her eyes huge. “This entire floor is yours? It’s just you.”
I pause for a second, trying to discern her meaning. “Why do you say it like that?”
Ivy shrugs her shoulders as she lays her bag on the countertop of the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. “Everything is just so open. In New York, every square foot counts.” She gives me a sheepish look. “I guess we don’t get much of this in my social circle.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” I ask, trying to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment.
