Evelyn Vine Be Mine (9 page)

Liam grinned and laughed with him. “Sounds like my Dad,” he said proudly.

Danny’s grin widened and he flicked a glance at me before turning back to Liam and adding, “Your mother was ever so embarrassed.”

I stifled my own giggles as Liam’s jaw dropped and he scrunched up his eyes as if to permanently erase the thought from his mind. Danny walked off, his loud, booming laugh attracting many stares. Stone clapped Liam on the back and showed him his watch. Liam nodded and grabbed my arm.

“Let’s find Briar,” he said, “It’s time to go home.”

As he led me away, I snuck a glance back at Stone, only to find him leaning against a wall, watching me leave.

***

Half an hour later, Briar and I were silently lying next to each other in her large bed.

“Bri,” I whispered into the dark room.

“Yeah?” she murmured back.

“How long have you liked Donny?”

I waited anxiously in the silence that followed, hoping that I hadn’t crossed some line in our friendship.

“Years,” she eventually whispered back. She rolled onto her side and looked at me for a long moment, opening her mouth and then closing it firmly, as if she had wanted to tell me something important, but reconsidered.

Instead, she smiled softly, “Good night, Evie.”

I hesitated in my response, wondering if I could ask her about Stone or maybe even hint at Alec’s feelings for her. I sighed, taking my cue from Bri and deciding to leave well enough alone.

“Night,” I said back, turning onto my back and slowly falling asleep.

six

On Monday, Billy took me with him to his studio. I jiggled my legs in anticipation as we pulled up outside a white brick building. Large, black writing along one wall read: Bright Photography. The rest of the building was obscured by bright-coloured flowering trees. I scrambled out of Billy’s sleek black sedan and followed him up the cobbled footpath to a heavy, black door. An aging, but beautiful woman opened it, wearing a black caftan and tight, blue jeans. Her entire outfit was deliberately splattered with bright paint. She looked to be at least part Indigenous, though whether her ancestry was Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander, I didn’t know. She smiled wide as she looked me over.

“Hi, Evie,” she greeted warmly, “I’m Betty. Billy’s secretary slash wardrobe lady slash makeup artist.”

I smiled shyly. “I know,” I whispered. I wanted to tell her how amazingly talented I thought she was, but didn’t wanted to start the day by ass-kissing.

She laughed. “C’mon in and take a look at the place,” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the door.

Billy chuckled and saved me from her overwhelming enthusiasm. “You go and get ready for the first shoot, Bee,” he said gently, “I’ll show Evie around.”

Betty’s face fell a little in disappointment, but the first customers came in and she brightened. She hurried over to greet them, before escorting them to a room on the right side of the studio. Billy gave me a knowing smile as I sighed in relief.

“Betty can be a bit much sometimes,” he said with a grin. I tentatively smiled back.

“C’mon,” he said, taking my arm gently, “This way.”

He led me through his waiting room and into the main part of the studio, showing me the different set pieces he had and I watched as he set up a scene for his first customers. Next, he showed me his office, followed by his filing room and dark room.

“We’ll come back in here later,” he told me, whilst we were in the filing room, “You can look through my past work. Most of it is from before I met Phillipa.” I’d blushed as I recalled the sorts of subjects he worked with before his marriage.

He let me sit through his first photo shoot (an expectant couple) and I frantically took notes, my scribbles almost illegible as I hurried to record as much as possible. Afterward, I sat in his office with him as he shared the pictures with the happy couple. I smiled in appreciation of the simple beauty of the pictures. Billy didn’t over complicate his scenes. His scenes were focused on the people in them and not any elaborate costuming or backgrounds. I could tell the clients were pleased with the photos and I felt extremely grateful to be allowed to witness this process. After they left, we broke for lunch and Billy let me interview him.

We talked for hours about our inspirations, our favourite photographers, what methods we liked to employ. Later, we pored through his stash of old photos and I blushed madly at all the erotic images. Billy talked about each one with professionalism, but threw in a light-hearted joke from time to time. It was dark by the time we reached the last folder. Billy grinned and pushed it towards me.

“Briar said this series was your favourite,” he said with a wink.

I peeked inside at the top picture and shut it quickly with a flush. “I, um, like the idea of taking pictures from a concealed place,” I mumbled, “I like the idea of fading into the background and capturing authentic responses by my subjects.”

Billy stared at me for a few moments, his face thoughtful. “I expect you are good at that,” he said quietly.

I shrugged and looked away. “Or people are good at ignoring me,” I responded casually.

“Don’t let them then,” he said firmly, “You have a lot to offer the world Evie. I’d hate to see you keep it hidden.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but Billy let me off the hook and opened the folder, spreading the prints out. My heart raced as I snuck a glance down at the erotic images that comprised his Voyeur catalogue. Each picture was taken from a hidden spot, as if the photographer was stalking the oblivious couple. As if the photographer was poised in some cramped position, watching the couples as they made love for hours.

I stopped at my favourite picture, fingering the cardboard trim surrounding it. Billy raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the picture in question. He chuckled fondly.

“It was hell trying to get into a good position in that tree,” he said with a grin, “But well worth it.”

I couldn’t hold back a smile as I imagined a young Billy cramped up in a high tree as he aimed the lens through the rich, green foliage to capture the couple in the tray of the ute below. My smile faltered as I looked closer, taking in the expressions of love and rapture on the entwined lovers’ faces. They were out in the bush, at night, making what looked to be slow love to each other under the stars. The woman’s eyes were wide and focused up into the tree, straight at the camera, as if she’d just caught the person watching them. Her mouth was open on a gasp of pleasure and the man was staring down at her face, watching her response with unconcealed triumph and tenderness.

The picture spoke to me. I wanted a man to look at me like that when deep inside me, focusing on my pleasure. I shuddered slightly as I recalled my previous experiences, where I’d felt used and trapped. I glanced back at the woman’s face as she looked up into the camera lens. I felt like she was looking right at me. Like she knew I was watching her man love her. Like she saw into me and saw all my buried desires and wishes. Like she saw me, when no one else did.

“Your favourite?” Billy asked quietly, scrutinising my features. I lowered my lashes, concealing the raw emotion in my eyes.

“Yeah,” I tried to sound nonchalant.

“That’s the original print,” he said with a smile.

I dropped the thing in horror. I’d had my dirty hands all over it.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, trying to examine it for damage without touching it further.

Billy picked it up and ran his eyes over every inch of it, a small frown of concentration forming between his brows.

Oh god, he’s mad I’ve wrecked it!

Yet, he said nothing as he put it back in the folder and we packed up our mess. We rode back to his house in silence and I shifted uncomfortably at the thoughtful expression he kept on his face. His face broke into an elated grin as we pulled up the drive though, and he practically jumped from the car once we’d stopped. I climbed out more slowly, feeling confused, until I noticed another car was parked next to ours. Curious, I hurried inside the house and poked my head into the living room.

“Where are you?” Billy yelled with a gorgeous, playful grin.

“Right here, Daddy,” an amused, feminine voice responded as she came down the stairs.

“Abby!” Billy boomed, striding over to where a stunning looking brunette was skipping down the stairs. He wrapped her in a tight hug, lifting her off the floor and carrying her down the last few steps.

“Put me down Dad,” she admonished, “I’m too big and you’re too old.”

He scoffed, “You are not and I’m not old.”

Her vivid green eyes turned on me and she cocked her head in question. “Who’s this?” she demanded curiously.

Briar came into the room behind me and threw an arm around my shoulders. “This is my new friend Evie, Abs,” she said with a laugh, “She wants to be a photographer. Dad’s been hogging her all day.”

“That’s my big sister Abigail,” Briar explained.

“A photographer, hmm?” Abby said, walking around me in a circle, “You any good?”

I blinked at her, unsure of how to respond.

“I’d like another photographer on the books,” she explained, “When do you graduate?”

Billy chuckled, “Who says I won’t steal her first?”

Abby glared at her father, “I get my photographers from you anyway, so what does it matter?”