Page 76 of One Billion Reasons

He grabs his board and stalks down the path. I follow, feeling unsteady on my feet. My heart is thundering in my chest, and my thoughts are a tangle. Miles says he doesn’t want to be together, but he’s definitely acting like he wants more. Do I want that? I watch the graceful way he walks, balanced like an athlete. I think about the way he defends me, even from my own criticism. A warm ache pulses behind my ribs. It fills my chest like a balloon. I do. I want him. If Miles Becker asked me to marry him tomorrow, I’d say yes. Shit.

We walk in silence until we get to the gazebo. I make Miles set his board against it. He huffs, but his mood seems to have improved, and he complies.

“Just one photo, please.” I want to document this wonderful day, either the best day of my life or the one that will rip my heart out.

He sighs but shoves his hair back with his fingers before slinging an arm around my shoulder and leaning back against the weathered wood. I lift the camera, tell him to smile, and take a lovely shot. His eyes are crinkled, his smile is real, and so is mine.

“Send it to me,” he says, nonchalantly. “Proof we were here without murdering each other.”

I send it to him and smile. “We’ve made some real personal strides.”

He laughs softly. “So did you get any good shots today?”

“I did. One really good one, actually.”

“Will you send that one to me too?”

I gasp in fake shock. “Miles Becker. You know not to ask that. I never share photos from a shoot before they’re edited, and certainly not with the subjects.”

He grins and shrugs. “I know. I had to try. So what’s your plan? For the business?” He picks up the board and we make our way back to the hotel.

“Actually, I was hoping you’d help me.” He shoots me an amused glance. “I know. I took that poorly last time. But since we’re friends now, I thought I could ask for your advice. What did you do to differentiate your business? Because right now, I feel like I’m one of a thousand people doing the exact same thing.”

He looks a little startled, then thoughtful. “That’s a great question. For starters, you have to figure out your brand. And your brand as a wedding photographer is going to be different than your brand as a fine artist. When Jonah and I started Kings Lane with Theo, our brand was integrity. We might be sharp negotiators, and we’re known for buying up our competitors, but we always keep our word. Our employees are happy, and we take a lot of pride in that. If you do business with us, you know you’ll be treated with respect. Well, unless Jonah is having a bad day.” He winces a little. “What’s your brand now?”

“I’m not sure… With Katie gone, it’s hard to say.”

“Yeah, but she was more of the business side, right? Aren’t you the primary photographer? That’s the most important part.” How does he know that?

“Well, yes. I guess my brand is authenticity,” I say slowly. “I take great candid shots. Those are always the photos my couples request to have printed. And I definitely have what some might call a high fashion style. It’s a little grittier than most wedding photographers. You see a lot of light and airy photos. I prefer the more emotional shots.”

Miles is nodding. “That’s a great brand. You can carry that over to your fine art too. I know nothing about gallery work, but maybe consider starting with a carefully curated selection of photos, by theme.”

“Like surfing photos of my handsome boyfriend?” I tease.

“Yeah, sure. Your boyfriend.” His smile looks a little pained, and I can’t interpret it. I don’t push him. He thinks I’m talking about the fake relationship, but I’m not. Because for me, this is real.

* * *

When I get back to the room, I check my email and see that George has sent us a list of furniture for the new apartment and wants us to pick the colors. This is too much. My chest feels tight, and I get up to get a glass of water. I don’t know if I can pick these furnishings and play house with Miles’s money, even for a month. It’s all a big fake, just like my relationship with him is.

Miles is at the gym, stretching, and I have a precious few minutes to call in reinforcements. I video call Mallory, who should be home since it’s Thursday and she never goes to her studio on Thursday nights. Something about how this one girl plays music too loud and it interrupts her flow. She picks up and immediately asks what’s wrong.

“Mal. Everything is going to hell.”

“Oh no.” She leans in to the camera, and her eyes are big and concerned. She has a paint streak on the hand she has under her chin, and my heart swells with love for her. She probably forgot to scrub her hands this morning at the studio. Miles is going to come home to paint streaks on his sheets.

“I fucked up, Mal.”

“What happened?”

I lie against the bed and shut my eyes. “I fell in love with Miles Becker.” It’s the first time I’m admitting it, even to myself. When I open my eyes, Mal is looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and sadness.

“I knew you would.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean you knew I would?”

She sighs. “You’ve always been obsessed with each other. I remember in college, when you two were in a room, it was like no one else existed. Is he in love with you too?”

---