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Authors: Michele Dunaway
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shouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Probably not. I’m glad he found someone. We all deserve happiness.” Taylor shivered. Suddenly all her senses were on high alert, the warm fuzzy feeling gone—her head perfectly clear. Owen. For a year she’d constantly looked over her shoulder, worried he might be there. Even after things had settled, he was always in the back of her mind, but never in a good way. Tonight he’d been less than thirty feet away.
Joe noticed her shiver. “Cold?”
“A little. The temperature dropped.” Better than admitting that Owen had terrified her at the end of their relationship, so much that she’d called the police. Twice.
“We should probably get back,” he suggested. Their pretzel plate boasted crumbs and his beer glass held one last sip, so he lifted the rim to his lips, finished off the brew. “Unless you want anything else? I’m happy to stay longer.”
“Cup of black coffee might be good, if you have the time.”
“I’ve got all night.”
She relaxed. “Good, because I could use a jolt of caffeine. I’ll have no break when I get back.”
Leo magically appeared to take the order and remove the dirty dishes.
“Make it two cups black,” Joe told him, leaning forward to pass over the empty beer glass. “So, when can you show me how to take portraits? What’s your schedule look like?”
“I don’t have my planner with me, but I do have my phone.” Taylor scrolled through its calendar. Sadly, most days were empty. Once she met with Virginia on Tuesday, she had very few photo dates. She also had a meeting with the professor supervising her project, the one who’d rejected her time and again.
Maybe Joe was right about karma. Maybe she still owed on some great cosmic bill she didn’t know about. Maybe her professor would think that boxing would be project worthy. She could go to the gym …
Like her earlier buzz, she let the idea fade away as she sipped the coffee Leo brought. Her professor wanted something that would provide a window into the soul. He’d rejected idea after idea, everything from working with the elderly to a day in the no-kill shelter. Boxing would be too mundane. Not enough of a look into another world. He wanted something beyond the photo story. He wanted something where people allowed themselves to be vulnerable. Where they faced their fears head-on. Something where people exposed themselves without even knowing it, where they let others peer into the depths of their psyche. … Like exposing when they’d been burned.
She finally understood what her professor meant. Joe was passionate about making his sister and other burn survivors feel beautiful.
To do that, they’d have to show their skin, their flaws, and own them in a defiant celebration of their bodies. Show that they’d overcome. That fate hadn’t won.
She knew for certain that this was something her professor would get behind. She’d have to clear it with him, but it was the best idea she’d had. Come on, karma, she thought. You owe me one.
She glanced up, caught Joe’s gaze. “You know what?”
“What?” he asked, taking her bait.
“I’ll do it. Your book.”
He sat back with a thump. “You will?”
“Yes.” As soon as she said the words, she knew she was one hundred percent committed. Even if her project wasn’t approved, and she was pretty sure it would be, Joe had gotten under her skin in a way she didn’t yet understand. Doing his book meant she’d see him again, and not just one more time like if she photographed his family. She wanted to keep seeing him—she hadn’t felt this relaxed or turned on in ages.
After Owen, she’d sworn never again, but Joe made her want to trust, made her want to believe. She could use the publicity the book would provide, she rationalized. Maybe if she moved fast, she’d still have a shot at entering the competition. “I want those networking connections,” she told him. “You’re right. It’ll be a good
“Probably not. I’m glad he found someone. We all deserve happiness.” Taylor shivered. Suddenly all her senses were on high alert, the warm fuzzy feeling gone—her head perfectly clear. Owen. For a year she’d constantly looked over her shoulder, worried he might be there. Even after things had settled, he was always in the back of her mind, but never in a good way. Tonight he’d been less than thirty feet away.
Joe noticed her shiver. “Cold?”
“A little. The temperature dropped.” Better than admitting that Owen had terrified her at the end of their relationship, so much that she’d called the police. Twice.
“We should probably get back,” he suggested. Their pretzel plate boasted crumbs and his beer glass held one last sip, so he lifted the rim to his lips, finished off the brew. “Unless you want anything else? I’m happy to stay longer.”
“Cup of black coffee might be good, if you have the time.”
“I’ve got all night.”
She relaxed. “Good, because I could use a jolt of caffeine. I’ll have no break when I get back.”
Leo magically appeared to take the order and remove the dirty dishes.
“Make it two cups black,” Joe told him, leaning forward to pass over the empty beer glass. “So, when can you show me how to take portraits? What’s your schedule look like?”
“I don’t have my planner with me, but I do have my phone.” Taylor scrolled through its calendar. Sadly, most days were empty. Once she met with Virginia on Tuesday, she had very few photo dates. She also had a meeting with the professor supervising her project, the one who’d rejected her time and again.
Maybe Joe was right about karma. Maybe she still owed on some great cosmic bill she didn’t know about. Maybe her professor would think that boxing would be project worthy. She could go to the gym …
Like her earlier buzz, she let the idea fade away as she sipped the coffee Leo brought. Her professor wanted something that would provide a window into the soul. He’d rejected idea after idea, everything from working with the elderly to a day in the no-kill shelter. Boxing would be too mundane. Not enough of a look into another world. He wanted something beyond the photo story. He wanted something where people allowed themselves to be vulnerable. Where they faced their fears head-on. Something where people exposed themselves without even knowing it, where they let others peer into the depths of their psyche. … Like exposing when they’d been burned.
She finally understood what her professor meant. Joe was passionate about making his sister and other burn survivors feel beautiful.
To do that, they’d have to show their skin, their flaws, and own them in a defiant celebration of their bodies. Show that they’d overcome. That fate hadn’t won.
She knew for certain that this was something her professor would get behind. She’d have to clear it with him, but it was the best idea she’d had. Come on, karma, she thought. You owe me one.
She glanced up, caught Joe’s gaze. “You know what?”
“What?” he asked, taking her bait.
“I’ll do it. Your book.”
He sat back with a thump. “You will?”
“Yes.” As soon as she said the words, she knew she was one hundred percent committed. Even if her project wasn’t approved, and she was pretty sure it would be, Joe had gotten under her skin in a way she didn’t yet understand. Doing his book meant she’d see him again, and not just one more time like if she photographed his family. She wanted to keep seeing him—she hadn’t felt this relaxed or turned on in ages.
After Owen, she’d sworn never again, but Joe made her want to trust, made her want to believe. She could use the publicity the book would provide, she rationalized. Maybe if she moved fast, she’d still have a shot at entering the competition. “I want those networking connections,” she told him. “You’re right. It’ll be a good
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