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Fortunately, Liv takes the hint, all without my sister noticing, but Bella still wants an answer.
“We had a disagreement, over…” I begin, trying to improvise. “Wine. But it was meaningless, Bella. Liv, please forgive me for it.”
Bella widens her eyes, while Liv narrows hers. God, this girl is still angry with me, and all I did was treat her with respect and care.
I get a chance to talk privately with Liv later that day. Bella is interviewing the workers on the factory floor, and Liv and I head for our respective restrooms.
She gets me alone on the way out, and holding me by my sleeve, asks, “If it was so meaningless, why did you treat me so nice?” she hisses like a snake.
I blink, intrigued, but most of all, pitying her.
“Do men only treat you nice when they want to have sex with you?” I ask in all seriousness.
Her eyes go wide, and her mouth goes ajar. She moves her lips, but nothing comes out, and her fists are curled in white-knuckled anger, looking ready to punch me if she could.
“Oh! You!” she growls and leaves me be, walking away by stomping her feet.
“Liv?” She stops but doesn’t turn around.
“The way I treated you was a reflection on how I was feeling.”
I approach her and place a hand on her shoulder.
“By the way, it still is.”
And it’s my turn to walk away.
Chapter Five
LIV
HeldingHeightsisapoverty-stricken neighborhood on the wrong side of the tracks, but it’s apparently the playground for billionaire Alex.
We’re inside the brand-new community center where hot meals are being served. It’s something needed for the neighborhood, but I can’t help but feel annoyed by the pretentious behavior of Bella’s brother.
At least there’s plenty to photograph. I know I should be focusing on Alex, but my gut feeling pulls me towards photographing the people— from the police officers standing guard outside to the children running around, and the senior citizens chowing down on their soup inside.
After I photograph literallyeveryone,I post myself close to Alex again, delighting myself in seeing him in a hairnet and apron serving soup to those in need.
I also like how uncomfortable he gets when I photograph him.
If this is all genuine, he is agreatperson, but the cynical part of me refuses to believe he’sthatgood. There must be some hidden flaw, and I’m determined to find it.
“Having fun?” Alex asks of me, catching me by surprise. Bella is busy interviewing people far away from us, so I can’t deflect the question to her.
“Lots of different people!” I say, with cheer that’s only partly authentic. “It’s nice to see the diversity of San Francisco.”
“Tell me about it.” He serves one last bowl of soup and, seeing the line clear, comes to my side. “It’s a lot different than where I’m originally from.”
“And where might that be?” I say, playing with my camera lens to avoid looking at him.
“Amarillo, Texas,” he says. “Not a tiny town, but also not the big city. Lovely place, either way.”
I finally look at him, and then I nod, understanding. “Bella never talks about Texas. She even learned to hide her accent.”
“Yeah,” he snickers. “But it still comes out when she’s angry.”
I laugh. Indeed, that’s the truth. “She says that’s because she wants to do TV news, right?”
