Page 140 of Summertime Friends

There’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and find Emerson standing there. Damn, she looks good. My jaw drops in awe.

“Do you have a free moment to take photos outside for the press releases coming out next week?” Emerson asks me.

At first, I was thrilled to have Emerson on my arm tonight. That would have been a mistake. Seeing her behind the camera, moving around the room with such ease and control, I knew that’s where she was meant to be.

In our final meeting yesterday, she asked me if I wanted to make any changes to the shot list she created. I said, “No. I want to see my hotel and the night through your eyes. I trust you.” Which is true. I trust her, but I also want to see the hotel designed for her through her eyes. When we started developing this hotel, I wanted it to be a place that she was drawn to. Even if it were a cocktail at the bar, she’d be back in my world.

She’s good at her marketing job, but photography is her superpower.

And she’s a superhero dressed in green—a high-neck, low-back, floor-length satin dress. It’s my favorite shade of green because it makes her eyes this wild, hypnotizing color. It is intimidating, and tonight, I know it’s where all of her power is drawn from.

Her hair is pulled back into a bun with a few front strands loose, and the tightness of the bun accents her high cheekbones. Her makeup is light; her lips are painted a soft pink. As I follow her to where she wants to take the pictures, I watch the halter ties move with the sway of her hips.

I didn’t know if it would be the optimal dress for her to shoot in, but when I saw it the other day in the store, I knew she would look beautiful in it. When she walked in, I was surprised to see her wearing the dress. She texted me thank you, but besides that and our meetings, she hasn’t spoken to me.

It hurts to lose her all over again. And I’ve exhausted myself by replaying this summer. I am leaving for London on a redeye tonight and hope that it’s the reprieve I need.

“And another one facing this direction.” She moves my shoulders to a different angle. My hand reaches up to hers.

“You are breathtaking tonight,” I barely get out as my breath leaves my body as I look at her.

“Someone suggested I wear this dress.” She forces a smile. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.” My hand is still on hers; neither of us cares to move. Eyes locked on the only person I ever want to look at. Staring at her, holding her hand, it doesn’t feel as if she’s slipping away this time. I can sense her holding on—holding on to me just as tight as I am. “Tonight is impressive. This is the largest turnout for an opening, and Cal told me we are already at no vacancy for the next two months.”

“I know.” Of course, she does.

“Thank you for all of your work. I know you were reluctant to take this on at first.”

“That’s because I was nervous about seeing you.” Her eyes drop to the sidewalk.

“And now?” I ask.

“I think you can hear my heartbeat.” I can. It’s loud and rapid. She’s nervous now, too. “You don’t need to thank me, though. Allof this is because of you—your hard work, your dream. I’m proud of you. You’ve accomplished all of this, Liam. I’m happy I got to be a part of it for once.”

“Me too. Are you done being cross with me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Then what are you—”

I’m interrupted by a whistling cat call from Chloe as she exits the hotel to find us on the street. “If I didn’t know any better, the two of you look like quite the pair tonight.”

I may or may not have bought a tie in the exact shade as her dress and made sure my suit corresponded. If anyone in there tonight looks like they belong together, it’s us.

“Blame him.” Emerson delicately rolls her eyes at me. She knows, but at least she shows no signs of displeasure.

“Let me take a picture of you two,” Chloe demands.

Emerson grumbles about it being her job to take the photos, as I agree with Chloe. “That would be lovely.”

Chloe reaches out, taking Emerson’s cameras off her. I stand beside Emerson, wrapping my arm around her waist and bringing her into me. In her heels, her head is perfectly under my chin. I move my arm, adding the other around her shoulders and chest.

The flash goes off. I turn my head, leaning down slightly, and kiss her temple. The flash goes off again.

Emerson stumbles forward. “That’s enough. I should get back in there.” Taking her camera from Chloe, she’s off.

“She’ll come around, I promise. Whatever happened flipped a switch in her. Emerson is being Emerson. Processing and navigating—and fighting through the voices in her head. She’s finally figuring it out. Don’t stop showing up. Okay?”

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