Page 51 of Affliction

Chapter Twenty-Three

Terry

A knock on the Art door caused me to look up. Mia wore her light-brown hair up in a low ponytail, and on her body was a plum sheath dress and black pumps. She looked absolutely stunning. Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was well after six in the evening. I’d thought I was the only one here, but alas, there she was—still working herself to the bone to make sure the company she’d built was running smoothly. And it was, of course. She had a great team working for her. She was great with them, and in turn, they worked hard for her to ensure the company she dreamed of came to life.

I stayed quiet, making her the first one to speak. She leaned against the doorframe, saying nothing as if she knew what I was doing and wasn’t going to break first.

After she had enough of the silence, she said, “Thank you for all you’ve done to help us out lately.” She seemed uncomfortable with the thank you she was delivering. Enjoying her discomfort, I gave her a cheeky grin.

“You really saved my ass this week,” she continued.

“Well, Mia, it’s a mighty fine ass,” I teased, enjoying the blush that covered her cheeks.

Mia shook her head. Clearly, there was more she wanted to say.

“How much longer are you staying in Los Angeles?” she asked.

Her question gave me pause. Was she hoping I was leaving soon, or was she trying to gauge how much time we had left together? Part of me wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to that. Sometimes, when I looked at her, I could swear her anger had thawed, but I could never be sure.

“Why?” I asked her. I put down the photographs I’d been sorting and came around the table so I was now in front of it. I leaned into it for support and waited for her to answer my question.

“I was just wondering. I heard you were still coming in and doing amazing things with the catalog. I thought we only had you for the one shoot; the one cancellation I had a few days ago.”

“You did. But I like to see my projects through until the end.”

Mia cut me off with a snicker. “Since when do you like to see things through? I would have thought you’d have cut and run by now.”

I understood her reference and her anger. “I wanted to make sure the photos were placed and matted correctly for the copy, is all. I’ll only be here for another day or so. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

I watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction to my departure. But she was giving me nothing, her poker face in full effect.

“Where to next?” she asked me.

“What are you asking, Mia?” I was beginning to think this was a planned interaction and that she’d come in with an agenda. There was something on her mind, something she wanted to ask me. Our conversations always felt like mental gymnastics, and I was no longer in the mood for them.

“Just what I asked you: where will you travel to next? Or are you planning on staying in LA for a while before jetting off?” Seemingly annoyed, she pushed off the doorframe and entered the room further. She now stood right in front of me. “I didn’t think my question was that confusing.”

“Seems like you’re asking me something completely different, Mia. I just wanted to answer you truthfully.”

She smirked at me when I said the word truthfully. I knew why—it was London. She was still angry about it, and I didn’t blame her. I just wished she would let me fix it. But it didn’t appear I would be getting that chance anytime soon or even before I left Los Angeles.

I took a step toward her and pushed a piece of hair back from her face. We were standing toe to toe now, and I could smell her perfume. She smelled sweet, like peonies. It was very familiar. I was sure it was the same perfume she had worn when we were together. Another way she was a creature of habit.

Mia wasn’t going to give in or say anymore. She wasn’t going to tell me the meaning behind her question. And maybe there wasn’t one. Maybe her question was as simple as she stated: where was I headed next? Was I leaving the city or staying?

I finally gave in—one of us had too. “I’ll be staying in the city for a bit. InStyle has some more work they’d like me to do. My agent is also trying to get me to photograph some models for Victoria’s Secret’s swimsuit edition. But I don’t want to,” I admitted.

“What happened to taking serious pictures?”

She remembers everything,I thought. “I still want to do that, but no one is paying me right now for those landscape and abstract pictures. Taking pictures of beautiful women like you is what’s making me money.”

She nodded, eyes still trained on mine. “You are good at it.”

“Thank you.” Her praise meant more to me than I would ever tell her.

I moved closer to her so that we were practically touching.

“Terry,” she whispered softly.

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