Page 21 of Keeper
“How so?”
“Well, with the hockey player agreeing to do the shoot on short notice, and with you coming to Dallas on a whim, and and the fact that I’ll need a photographer …”
Sure, it sounded like things came together conveniently for her—but it wasn’t really a reason for me to stick around.
“It’s something you can put on your résumé,” she sang enticingly. “And of course I’d be happy to let you put those photos in your portfolio, too.”
Argh.Now she was speaking my language. Still, I didn’t know if it was a good idea.
“I’ve never done an actual job like this,” I said. “What if you don’t like it?”
“I already know I’m going toloveyour pictures, Ainsley.” She paused to sip her drink from the straw. “Did I mention I’ll pay you a grand?”
My eyes widened. A thousand bucks was almost two months’ rent. I could use that money—especially after calling out of work for the whole weekend. I wasn’t sure if I evenhada job back home anymore.
She giggled. “Ah-ha. Now you’re intrigued.”
“That’s a lot of money …” I murmured.
“It’s really not, but hey. You’re a broke college kid, so I get it.” She sipped her drink sassily. “Anyway, are you in or what?”
I kindahadto be in, didn’t I? I couldn’t turn that money down.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I’m in.”
“Perfect!”
Marta’s phone began to ring.
“It’s the quarterback,” she told me. She answered with a short and snappy voice. “Hey. I’m upstairs. What do you mean, you can’t find it? You know what stairs are, right? They’re those things that you walk up to reach a higher level. Great. So walk up them.” She looked at me, pointed at her phone, and made a hollow-head gesture. “Are you serious?Fine.I’ll come get you.”
“He’s lost,” she said to me. “Can’t find the stairs. Can you believe it? The guy can analyze a defense in a split-second but can’t find his way around a club. Whatever. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“I’ll be right here.”
She stepped out of the booth, whipping the privacy curtain shut behind her.
And I drew a long, deep breath.
Sometimes, when Marta leaves, I feel like I haven’t taken a breath in minutes. Spending time with her was sort of like standing in a hurricane. Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.
All I have to do is make it until Sunday,I thought.Then it’s back to Kansas.
But I didn’twantto go back to Kansas. Everyone at school knew what I’d done—and by this point, I was sure my co-workers did now, too.
Part of me wished I could be like Marta—drop everything, move away and start a new life. But no matter how much she tried to inspire me to go into business for myself, I didn’t know how. That kind of thing took time, research, a lot of hard work, and let’s be honest, even more good luck.
The minutes went by as I waited for Marta to return with her footballnot-a-boyfriend. How long had she been gone? I’d lost track of time, but it was starting to feel like forever. Had she gotten lost, too?
Like anyone else who’s stuck in a situation with nothing to do, I had the impulse to waste time on my cell phone. I unsnapped my clutch (on loan from Marta) and reached for my phone … before remembering there was a reason I’d been keeping it off in the first place.
All those creepy messages.
Yeah, no thanks.
I snapped the clutch shut and kept waiting.
***
