Page 1 of One Billion Reasons

1

Lane

There is not enough money in the world to make a winter beach photoshoot enjoyable.

“Goddamn stupid drone,” I mutter to myself as I get the case situated and pop the top. It’s twenty-five degrees and brisk near the ocean. Who does a photo shoot in January on the water? Rich assholes, that’s who.

Katie, my business partner, and the secondary shooter, strides up to me, shivering and shaking her head. “I swear, if I didn’t need this money, I’d be outta here. And damn the deposit.”

I frown as I poke through the equipment. I’m cold too, but I’d never ditch a client. Katie might be the business half of our operation, but she has a lot to learn.

“At least we’re making rent money.” I try a smile, but my face is frozen. This does not bode well. The package this client purchased includes two hours of drone footage. I’ll probably be frozen solid in two hours. The wind pulls tendrils of my hair out of my hood as if in agreement.

“Yeah, twenty percent of twenty-five grand. I’ll take it.”

So will I. No more shifts at the coffee shop downstairs. And with some penny-pinching, this will tide me over until summer wedding season.

“When’s the big trip? I’ll bet this money will go far in Thailand.”

Katie brightens. She’s going on a month-long vacation. To find herself. I’d rather find myself a lot more cheaply, but I’m not her.

“Three weeks.” She grins. “I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be great,” I murmur absently. Running the business alone will be tough, but if I’m being honest, I know we won’t have many shoots between now and May. Some family photos in Central Park, or engagements on the water, but no weddings.

Katie fiddles with the settings on her camera, and I settle mine more firmly on my shoulder. I am not dropping this bad boy in the sand. The DSLR is $2000 of high-tech equipment. My baby.

I check the light again too, even though I’ve checked three times. I want this shoot to be flawless. This couple probably has friends in high places, and I want the photos to be perfect. I look for them down the beach. Still not here.

The light is always beautiful at this time of day, when the sun is just starting to peek above the horizon. I love shooting sunrise photos, even if I hate leaving my warm bed for them. It’s a magical hour, and couples seem to sense that it’s a secret, private time too. The photos almost always turn out great.

Unless the couple is late and misses the sunrise. I frown, scanning for a car in the dim light. If they don’t get here soon, the sun will be fully up, and they’ll miss the light, when it’s hazy and golden, before it turns sharp and bright over the sand and the water.

“They’re going to miss the sunrise.” Katie echoes my thoughts.

“I know.” I frown. “They don’t care, I guess. Did they confirm the time?”

Katie nods and sticks her hands under her armpits.

I shiver and lift my camera, using the screen to snap a few shots. Might as well be ready when they finally get here. I’m fiddling with the drone controller when a town car pulls up. A driver gets out to open the passenger door, and I snort. A driver. Wow. A willowy blonde steps out on the right. The passenger on the other side is clearly impatient and shoves out the door into the frigid morning without waiting for the driver.

Damn. As the man scans the beach, I scan him. He’s tall, over six feet, wearing a suit. Probably custom, if the car and driver are anything to go by. His shoulders are broad, his back straight. He’s far enough away that he can’t tell I’m ogling him, and I can’t really tell what type of handsome he is. His entire pose telegraphs that he owns the world, his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks as he looks out on the beach. Like a king surveying his kingdom. I shiver a little. The photos I could take of this man. I want to take one right now, zoom in on what I imagine is a straight nose and patrician profile. Stop ogling him and get back to work.

I turn my camera back on, ready to get some candid shots of the couple walking down the beach, but they look…awkward. Something’s not right. There’s distance between them. I cock my head and watch them move toward me. He’s not helping her across the sand, and she’s holding herself a little further away than I might expect.

“What gives?” I mutter. “They look like they hate each other.”

Katie shakes her head. “No idea. I only dealt with her assistant. I didn’t even get a first name.”

I watch them move down the beach. Most couples are excited to take these photos, are usually touchy from the moment they arrive.

“One of us is going to have to warm them up,” Katie reminds me.

I can turn on the charm if I need to, and since I’m the face of the business, it usually falls on me to make jokes and small talk until couples are comfortable. And since I prefer warm, candid shots, I usually get my best photos near the middle of the session, when people are more natural, but before they get too tired. Katie will want a few classic stills to put on the website, but based on the set of this guy’s shoulders, I’m not sure he’ll be interested in kneeling in the sand.

Yeah, I bet he doesn’t kneel for anyone.

What the hell? I shake the absurd thought away and lift the camera. The man’s back is held straight, and his hands are still in his pockets. Oh, he’s not happy. I look down at the screen, and his face appears in perfect clarity. I jolt. No fucking way.

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