Home to You (35 page)

Regardless, he was nothing short of curt, barking orders and expecting me to be two places at once. But the apprehension I’d felt earlier began to fade. Even though he was demanding, he was completely professional. And by the time the rehearsal dinner was over, I felt guilty about my behavior back in my room.

“Good job today, Ms. McGregor,” Rick said, passing me in the hallway.
 

“Rick, wait.”

He paused, adjusted the heavy bag slung over his shoulder, and turned around. I pulled the phone I’d forgotten to give him earlier out of my pocket, and walked toward him. “Thank you.”
 

His eyes locked with mine and his brows lifted in surprise. He took the phone from my outstretched hand then continued down the hall. “Katie,” he said in a gruff voice before entering his room.
 

“Yes?”
 

“Be ready by five tomorrow. We have a sunrise shoot in the morning.”
 

The day of the wedding, we rushed from one event to the next. Only stopping to change our clothes, eat, or rehydrate. Rick watched me like a hawk when we were together, but over half of the day I was on my own—and that was when I was able to relax. There were even a couple hours in the early morning when I got to walk the grounds and focus on photographing the landscape. Something I would have done without being paid.
 

Every couple hours we met in Rick’s room and backed up our files on his hard drive. Just the thought of losing a single image from this high-profile wedding made me want to vomit. His room was much like mine, but there was a small table with two chairs set up on the far wall that held his laptop.
 

“I want you to take the groom’s party this time,” Rick said, before we parted.
 

“Okay,” I replied, unable to hide my confusion. That was not on the plan he’d sent me earlier.
 

“See you at the ceremony.”
 

The groom’s party was secluded in the pool house out by the stables. Beer flowed on tap and shots were passed like water. I somehow corralled the rowdy bunch and took the obligatory photos without much trouble. The groom reminded me of Jake. Tall, dark wavy hair, built... Though he didn’t have the dimpled chin or sideways smile that drove me crazy. There were five other men standing up with him, one of whom had a three-year-old boy with dark curls, big blue eyes, and carried a little bear in a tuxedo that matched his own.
 

“He’s a ring-bear, just like me,” the little boy named Peter told me in a tiny voice.

“Oh yeah?” I said, dropping to my haunches and smiling. “Can I see?”
 

He eyed me sideways, seeming to assess if I was a trustworthy person or not, then passed me the precious bear. “He’s
berry
shy.”
 

I smiled and took the stuffed toy from his chubby fingers. “What’s his name?”
 

He scrunched his little face like he’d just tasted something sour. “Ring-Bear. I already toad you dat.”
 

“Oh, yes, silly me.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Well, he’s a very handsome bear. And so are you, I might add.”
 

His chubby hand flew to his mouth to suppress a giggle. “I not a
real
ring-bear. I just pretending.”
 

I threw my head back and laughed, and he joined me with more tiny giggles. “Can I take a picture of you, Peter?”
 

He nodded, took the bear from my hands, and smiled so big his eyes remained only as tiny slits.
 

The next hour was spent taking candid shots of the groom and his men. Peter stayed glued to my side the whole time. It felt natural and comfortable having a little shadow, and I couldn’t help the longing that settled deep inside me to one day have a little boy of my own. A boy with chubby cheeks, dark curls, and big blue eyes. Just like Peter... Only with a dimple in his chin that matched his daddy’s.
 

My heart squeezed. I needed to talk to Jake. To stop pretending like the future didn’t exist. No matter how much I wanted to ride the waves and see where this thing took us, I was falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and pretty soon, I wouldn’t be able to swim my way out. I wanted to get married, have kids, grow old together. Not a big wedding like this. This was beautiful and breathtaking, and something you’d see featured in a magazine, but it wasn’t me… and it wasn’t Jake… But what
was
Jake? What did
he
want?
 

My thoughts were consumed with him for the rest of the evening. Every tender moment I caught between the bride and groom, every laugh, and every kiss. Tiny feet that tapped on the dance floor, and Peter’s chubby hands wrapped around his daddy’s neck when he fell asleep.

It was just after midnight when I made my way to Rick’s room, and my feet dragged with exhaustion. His door was left ajar and creaked open when I knocked. He stood in the center of the room, his shirt untucked and open at his chest, his feet bare, and a glass of dark alcohol in his hand. He was on the phone and waved for me to come in.  

His computer was there on the table, so I dropped to the nearby chair to retrieve my memory cards.
 

Still on the phone, Rick poured a glass of whiskey and set it in front of me on the table. The invitation to have a drink with my boss made me nervous, but I took a tentative sip and got to work with the backup. In a few minutes the job was done, and I picked up my bag intending to slip out without notice.
 

“Are you in a rush, Ms. McGregor?”  

I whipped around to face him, his phone now discarded on the nearby bed. “I didn’t want to interrupt you,” I said softly.

He picked up my abandoned drink from the table and walked over to me. “It’s been a long day. Have a drink with me.”
 

It wasn’t a question, and something heavy dropped to the pit of my stomach. I took the glass from his outstretched hand, and he turned away to refill his own.
 

“Have a seat, Katie.”
 

My heart hammered in my chest, and I eyed the empty bed as I made my way back to the chair.
 

He sat opposite me, his long legs splayed as he leaned forward and took another sip of his drink.
 

“I have a proposition for you.”
 

All the twinges and unsettled feelings came crashing to my chest. This was it. The reason for all my apprehension. I had to fight the urge to run from the room, and my hands shook as I picked up my drink.
 

“You’re warm, inviting, and people like you…”

I pressed the glass to my lips and pretended to take a sip. Time stood still, and long moments passed before Rick spoke again.
 

“I want you to come to work for me out of the field.”
 

All the blood drained from my face and I blinked. “What?”
 

“I need someone like you. Someone with your artistic eye to fill my shoes when I can’t be there. Other obligations are pulling me away more than I’d like, and I need someone I trust not to fuck it up. I’m impressed with your work, Katie. I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time.”

I couldn’t speak. I was completely taken aback by his offer.

“I’ll need you at my beck and call. Clients don’t like to wait, and I need to know you’ll drop everything when I need you.”
 

He pushed back from his chair and stood. “You don’t have to answer tonight. But you’ll be compensated well for your time.” He eyed me over. “You don’t look well, Ms. McGregor. Go get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”
 

I floated back to my room in a daze, then tossed and turned all night with excited energy. For the hundredth time that weekend, I missed Jake. I was anxious to get home and tell him all about my job offer. To ask him his thoughts so he could help me decide what to do. Being at the beck and call of Rick Henderson was intimidating, but on the other hand, how could I pass up an opportunity like this?

When the alarm went off the next morning, my body ached from little sleep. Rick’s knock came way too soon, and I grabbed my bag to meet him in the hall. He narrowed his eyes as he examined my appearance. Basically confirming the fact I looked like shit, but I didn’t care. In a few hours my job would be over, and I couldn’t wait to go home to Jake.
 

“Plans have changed, Ms. McGregor,” Rick said, as we made our way down the long hall to the dining room.
 

Why did this not surprise me? Nothing had gone as planned all weekend. I nodded and adjusted my bag to take some of the pressure off my aching shoulders.
 

“I need you to drive the Escalade back to Los Angeles. Something came up, and I’m leaving for Italy after I wrap things up here.”
 

“Okay,” I replied, trying to keep up with his hurried strides.
 

“You can leave after you have breakfast.”

He barked the order like always, but I couldn’t stop myself from getting confirmation. “You don’t need me to help cover brunch?”

“Like I said, you can leave after you eat. I’ll handle it from here.” He paused before entering the dining room. “And Katie, make sure to drink some coffee. You look like shit.”
 

The drive home was pretty uneventful, and I made it back to Rick’s house by late afternoon. I thought about calling Jake when I found my phone in the front seat of my car, but it was dead.
 

Of course.
 

When I entered the living room twenty minutes later, the house was quiet, but I heard the shower running in the distance and smiled. I dropped my bag by the front door, toed off my shoes, and began unbuttoning my blouse, intending to join him. When I walked into Jake’s room, I first noticed the bra on the floor, then the trail of abandoned clothing, which led to the bed. There, lying in the middle of crumpled sheets, was Grace. And she was completely nude.
 

I COULDN’T SPEAK, COULD BARELY breathe. It was as if every system inside me had shut down in that single moment. Grace noticed me right away, but said nothing. She didn’t even try to cover herself, or hide any part of her perfect body.
 

She smirked, looked me up and down, then glanced to the bathroom door where the shower still ran.
 

He was still hers.
 

As much as I wanted to believe he wanted me, that we could build a life together, I wasn’t enough.
I was never enough.
Bile rose to the back of my throat and my hand flew to my mouth. I couldn’t be here when he got out.
 

On legs that threatened to buckle beneath me, I stumbled to the front door. I needed to get away, get as far as I could and not look back. My shoes and bag were at the front door and I grabbed them, not even stopping to button my shirt as I made my way to the car.
 

I don’t know how far I drove before I pulled to the side of the road and threw open the door. My whole body heaved out of control. Every last drop of my dignity expelled to the blackened asphalt below. With shaking hands, I wiped my mouth and sat back against the upholstered seat. I stared straight ahead and began to slowly button my blouse. Not because I cared if people saw me—because it was the normal thing to do. Because I was grasping for anything that would ground me to earth, so I wouldn’t feel the only solid thing in my life running through my fingers like water.
 

An elderly couple walked by, watching me with a disapproving glare, but said nothing. Everything I knew as truth crumbled around me, and my body began to shake. I wanted to scream and throw things, but I was paralyzed by the pain.
 

Why would he
do
this to me? Lead me on like this and let me think we had a chance? Had this been going on the whole time? Had he even broken up with Grace?
 

God, I was so naive! My fists slammed into the steering wheel over and over, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. My voice was shredding, but I was desperate to feel anything to mask the searing pain that coursed through my heart. Was anything we shared even real? Were his late nights at work a lie?