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“If I’m worth keeping around?” I say, trying for a joke.
When he chuckles – his tone lighter this time – it’s like a soothing balm is moving through me, telling me I don’t have to be so tightly wound about all this.
I’m crushing on him, fine. I want him so badly it hurts.
There’s nothing new there.
I can be professional.
“Pretty much,” he says. “Does that all sound good?”
“Yeah, sure. Great. Better than okay.” I inwardly cringe at my voice, my words collapsing into each other. “I won’t let you down.”
“Excellent,” he says. “Bye, Faye.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the phone, smiling over at Lola, hoping she only sees a friend happy about a job smile and not all the other thoughts flurrying through me. We’re going to be working together, me and him, which means alone time.
This means I’m going to have lots of chances to….
To what, exactly?
Even if he wanted me – he doesn’t – Lola would never speak to me again.
Or she’d freaking shoot me.
“Told you,” Lola says, smiling.
“I start tomorrow,” I murmur. “I’m going to help him choose the photos for his new selection. I can’t believe it.”
“I can,” Lola says. “You’re going to do a great job. This is such a good chance for you, Faye. Dad might be a little grumpy sometimes, and maybe he’s a tad distant, but when it comes to photography, you couldn’t have a better mentor.”
I automaticallycorrect a better husband, a better lover, then quickly push that all down deep.
