Page 3 of Curvy Crush
Chapter Three
LOLA
Imanage to get everything rearranged in my studio how I like it, and then I step out to grab some lunch. Instead of going back into town and wasting a whole hour waiting at a restaurant, I go into the house and open the fridge. I settle on my leftover grilled chicken salad from dinner last night and I grab a cold bottle of water. I sit in the kitchen and eat while catching up on all my social media posts. I have a personal and a business page, so it takes me my full lunch hour before everything has been seen, liked, and updated. I update my open hours for the photography business, and even book a couple of appointments that I add to my calendar from my phone.
After lunch, I head back to my little studio to get things ready for my upcoming appointments. I like to track my appointments both digitally and physically, just in case of any computer malfunctions, so I write the names, dates, and times of the appointment onto my big desk calendar and start making notes of what each one will take. One appointment is for a little girl’s first birthday. I make a note to remember to order a smash cake from the local bakery, and then add all the pink accessories I have, including pearls, boas, and my special-order glitter banner.
My second appointment is for a wedding announcement, so I want to bring anything wedding-related: prop champagne bottles, glasses, and bride and groom cake toppers. The third appointment is for family photos. On those, I bring different blankets to sit and pose on for outdoor images. I’m lost in my work when the phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Lola Peterson?”
“It is. How can I help you?” I ask, trying to sound nice and polite, but, really, I’m still thinking about the prep needed for the three jobs that came in today.
“My name is Evan Miles. I got your number from a flier that was at the bakery in town?”
My heart begins to race because I remember Paxton wanting to set me up on a date with Evan before. Stella totally discouraged it because she thought he’d be too serious for me and that’s the last thing I want in life. I need a man who can laugh, let loose, and have some fun. But, here he is calling me. “Oh, yes. That’s me. What can I do for you, Mr. Miles?”
“Well, I’m in need of a photographer. I’m a local artist here in town and I’m looking to start up a website to sell some of my paintings. I’m setting up interviews for tomorrow if you’re interested in taking photos of artwork?”
Oh, well, I’ve never done that before, but I don’t see it being any different than any other photography job I do. At least the painting will stay still and not move around or sneeze as I snap the photo,” I joke, giggling a little with the mental image of a canvas sneezing.
“Alright,” he says, not finding my joke even the slightest bit humorous. He sounds just as serious as Stella had described. “How does tomorrow at two sound?”
“Let me check my schedule,” I say, wanting to sound like I may be busy due to my wonderful work ethic. “Yes, that works perfectly.”
He tells me the address of his studio and then promptly gets off the phone. He seems like the no-nonsense type, which strikes me as weird. Aren’t artists supposed to be carefree and lax? I shrug it off and get back to organizing my list. I lose myself again, and when I look up, it’s going on six. I quickly throw everything down and hop in the car to drive over to Benny’s for my dinner date with Stella. I’m a few minutes late by the time I arrive, and she’s already at the table with a glass of water.
I sit down across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I was lost in the studio.”
She smiles. “No worries. I ordered you some wine so I could smell it. Take a drink,” she says with a smile, slowly pushing it toward me.
I laugh. “Someone hard up for some wine, huh?” I pick up the glass and take a sip.
She rolls her eyes. “You have no idea. I’m not even that pregnant. I didn’t think the cravings would come this soon, and I never expected them to be wine. I thought it would be like… Oreos dipped in funnel cake batter, fried, and then covered in icing and sugar.”
“Now that sounds good,” I joke, winking at her.
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Figures my one craving would be the one thing I can’t have.”
“You know you can’t eat sushi or cold lunch meat either, right?”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh my god! Sushi sounds so good, too.”
I laugh. “I think you just want everything you can’t have. Stop thinking about wine so much and you probably won’t want it.”
“Easy for you to say. You get to drink it! That’s the one thing I loved to do every day. Come home from work, sit down, and enjoy a glass of wine. Now I can’t even do that.”
“What about grape juice?”
“Tried it.” She waves me off.
I laugh. “Well, I’m sure one glass of wine here and there won’t hurt. I’ve heard doctors say that before.”
She laughs. “Well, not my doctor.”
I shrug. “For once, you get to live through me.”
