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“I spent years creating this brand, Ben. And cultivating a reputation of perfection and uniqueness in an over-saturated market. And my client base grew and grew to the point where it became unmanageable. Last year, I suffered a series of stress-related asthma attacks, and my doctor was concerned that I would have to be upgraded from mild persistent to moderate persistent asthma. He insisted I take a break and reduce my stress levels. I love what I do, I never thought it was particularly stressful, until one day I recognized that it was. I was so concerned about not disappointing anyone, I rarely said no to a booking. I worked twelve-hour days, and then worked six hours more in post-processing after I got home. Eighteen-hour days, five-and-a-half days a week. It was a lot. It was at that point that I understood I was this in demand because I’m that good. My reputation is strong enough that I could take a break, come back after a year or so, and be able to pick and choose my projects. My clients would still be there, even if they have to wait months for an opening in my shooting schedule.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your health scare? Or Cyrus?” he asked, his face pale and his voice shaky.
“Excuse me, but have you met yourself and Gramps? You two would have collectively lost your shit and smothered me with your overprotective alpha maleness. I was trying to breathe, not suffocate! I figured it out by myself. Y’know, like an adult? I’m healthier and I’m trying to make better choices as far as my career goes. I’m easing my way back into business.”
“I-I underestimated you, Lilah. I didn’t comprehend how fucking brilliant you were at your job. I was a condescending arsehole.”
“You were,” she agreed without heat. “But look at you now, admitting to your failings. Well done, Ben.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call them failings,” he corrected with a glower. “Just a misapprehension of the facts.”
She chuckled. “You were doing so well for a second there.”
He had the grace to look chagrined and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.
“I’m trying to say,” he continued doggedly, “that you handled the whole thing admirably and I should have been less of an arsehole about the whole thing.”
She shook her head, still laughing. “And I think you’ve handled your avoidance of actually saying the words I’m sorry, pretty damned admirably too. Well done.”
He avoided her eyes and that made her laugh even harder.
“Anyway, I’ve always yearned to carve my own little niche in this world,” she said, stirring her thick milkshake with the thick stainless-steel straw. “I know it seems impractical, considering… well, my name, I suppose. Which is my business is called Petography by Lile. I didn’t want anyone immediately associating my business with the ‘Beckett Heiress’.” Her lips thinned when she used air quotes for the despised moniker the press had given her after Gramps’s death.
She suddenly gave him a self-effacing grin and rolled her eyes, inviting him to share in her humor. “Although, having my studio in a swanky penthouse in Clifton would likely be a dead giveaway.”
“Is that why you haven’t had any photoshoots at the apartment yet?” He looked troubled instead of amused.
“God, no!” she scoffed. “I have so many people excited to see me back on social media and I’ve been receiving an overwhelming amount of enquiries. So I decided to wait for Blake to return from Durban instead.”
He frowned in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“A lot of her clients are interested in my services too. I thought a good way to ease my way back into work was to have a quick competition, a lottery of sorts, for Blake’s clientele. Five winners and we could use some of the pictures from their photoshoots as promotional material just before I start taking bookings again.”
His face cleared and he speared another piece of hamburger with his fork. “Of course, Blake runs that doggy day care thing?”
“Pet grooming business.”
“Right.” His face was expressionless and she just wondered if he thought she and Blake were a couple of spoiled rich girls playing at being grown up.
Well, if that’s what he thought, she needed to disabuse him of that notion immediately. He could denigrate Lilah in his mind as much as he wanted to, but her friends were off-limits.
“Yep, that’s right. Her nationwide pet grooming business, with over a hundred employees, fifteen mobile parlors, and five brick-and-mortar stores. She has a client list that includes celebrities, politicians, athletes, and influencers. And the business earns an annual revenue of over three million rand.”
“She still washes dogs for a living though,” he said, his face completely devoid of expression, but something about the rigidly straight line of his mouth told her he was messing with her. She narrowed her eyes at him, and her suspicion was confirmed when he refused to meet her gaze.
