Page 5 of Yours To Save

“Nope. Not stupid enough to be goaded like that anymore.” James huffed smugly, well aware he had the upper hand.

Sammy huffed with indignation. Then huffed heavier when James ignored him, a small smile tugging at his lips. When his friend remained silent, his own thoughts drifted away, and he sat there, content with his coffee. He would figure something out eventually. He wanted a mix of urban and nature shots, and he didn’t really plan on going too far, but certainly wasn’t going to go to Central Park and pretend he was out in the wild. A few places that were ideal for his theme had popped up in his Google search and he knew he needed roughly a few days to go to each location and wait for the perfect light to capture his images – hence the car and the cash.

James did break, as he was getting bored and cold, and maybe just a tiny bit guilty for being such a dick to him.

“What do you need it for?” He chanced a look at Sammy, who gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m working on a new project. I want to visit a few locations outside the city. I need the black Jeep.”

“Like hell you do! Nope!” James huffed.

“You asked me!” Sammy was laughing now because he could see his friend was about to crack.

James rolled his eyes then rubbed his face with both hands and spoke through his fingers, his voice muffled, “For how long?”

Sammy thought about it. Best not to tell him a day and be back in a week. “A week.”

“A whole week! Are you kidding me?” James groaned, exasperated.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be back in like five days.”

His friend took his sweet time deciding, and Sammy couldn’t help but think how stylish James looked, even if he had rugged up for a cold winter day. His perpetually short, blond buzzed hair was hidden under a ridiculous classic aviator hat, lined with fur. He was one of those dudes who could easily be on the other side of the camera, modeling and selling the shit out of men’s cologne. He had this classic beauty, sharp edges, and cold light blue eyes, with just a hint of freckles dusted around the ridges of his nose. Hence why, his movie-buff-loving dads had chosen to name him James, after the famous actor James Dean. Try as he might to look like a professional pleb, he could never be anything else but a stunning, fashionable, rich asshole.

James worried his lip chewing on it, giving Sammy a once-over, as if giving him the head-to-toe look could determine if his driving skills had somehow improved in the past year. They had not. Sammy knew James had caved when his friend slumped lower in his seat. James closed his eyes, and with a heavy sigh, said, “Fine.”

“Really?” Sammy jumped out of the low camping chair, his coffee cup dangerously close to spilling all over James.

“Yes really! When do you need it?” James groaned, leaning away, making sure Sammy didn’t spill his coffee all over his designer winter fur coat. He was really nailing the Russian-New Yorker look.

Sammy looked around the set, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Now is as good a time as any.”

“Are you kidding me? We’re supposed to be working!”

“Please! That bitch isn’t coming today, even if her manager is claiming she’s on her way. She was at a party at that actor’s penthouse last night!”

“What? How the fuck do you know that?”

Sammy shrugged his shoulders, and stared at his feet, feeling only mildly guilty as he scrambled to come up with a believable explanation. He wasn’t sure James would be glad to hear, that he had been at the same party and had seen the lovely model Julia Barilly getting smashed off her head on coke in the lap of the actor hosting the party. Clearly, Sammy had more professional integrity than the supermodel as she had not bothered to set five alarms for her shoot. Instead, he just mumbled, “I follow her on Instagram and Snapchat.”

James was shaking his head. Sammy almost felt sorry for him, but he had to hustle, and his friend was getting paid generously for his time anyway.

“Sooo…”

“Fine!” James angrily dug the keys out of his pocket and shoved them in his hand. Sammy handed him over his cold coffee as a fair exchange.

“Thanks, and uh...”

“What?” James snapped.

“Is the tank full?”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Yes! Totally! Jokes.”

Sammy gave James a quick hug, then scurried away to the Jeep. As he settled in the car and took in the fancy clean exterior, he decided to also ask James for his pay for the day but did so in text as a call might rescind the loan of the car. James didn’t bother replying but the money was in his account by the time he got to his tiny apartment and began to pack a duffel bag haphazardly.

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