Second Chances (45 page)

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Authors: Nicole Andrews Moore

BOOK: Second Chances
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As she walked back to the studio, she was still thinking about the man she had just run into.  “So, what’s the rest of our afternoon look like, Christopher?”  Isabella asked as she wandered dreamily through the door.

 

He glanced up from the proofs he was studying to gaze at her intensely.  “Something happened,” he announced.

 

She blushed.  “No big deal.  I just ran into a handsome man today, literally.  Oh, and we danced.”  She smiled and moved to look at the appointment book.  “Only one shoot this afternoon?”

 

“Yes, and the guy called to say he was running late.  I think it may conflict with our other appointment.”  He made some marks on the proofs before addressing her again.  “I’m sorry.  I need to finish these.  They are for a client from a very important company, our other appointment.  He needed pictures for his new business cards.”  He stacked the proofs and slid them back in the envelope.  “So, what if you take the photo shoot and I work with this client?”

 

Isabella thought for a moment.  Even as early as this morning, Isabella would have been too nervous to take another picture.  She might have begged to go over the proofs with the client, something she knew she wouldn’t mess up.  After speaking with Dr. Pam, however, she discovered she was ready to jump behind the camera again.  “Okay,” she said with a slight nod and a shy smile.

 

He beamed.  “You will be great.  And when it’s over, we start our weekend.”

 

 

At four o’clock the first of the two clients arrived.  It was the man who was having the photo shoot.  Isabella directed him to the changing room before coming out to speak with Christopher.  “Guess I’ll have to meet the business card guy some other time,” she said,
then retreated to her area of the studio. 

 

Twenty minutes later, as Isabella was nearing the halfway point in her shoot, the business man arrived.  “Hello, Mr. Charmant,” Christopher greeted him warmly.  “Please step into my office so we can select the picture for your business cards.”

 

Gabriel Charmant was used to making decisions.  Within minutes he had selected what he believed to be his best photograph.  It was a snapshot from the shoulders up, so that one might see how professional he looked in his business attire, but his smile helped him appear approachable.  He knew instinctively that his father would approve.

 

As he moved to exit, he saw that a photo shoot was taking place down the hall.  He was inexplicably drawn to the room, but Christopher steered him away.  “Ah, Mr. Charmant,” he began apologetically.  “Normally I would have no problem with you taking a peek, but my photographer needs her focus right now, and I think you might prove to be too much of a distraction.”

 

Smiling, Gabriel turned, shook Christopher’s hand, and exited the building. 
Well done,
he thought;
no wonder this studio is so successful.  He turned me away with a compliment.

 

Thirty minutes later, Isabella walked her client out, set an appointment for the following week and turned to face Christopher.  “Time to close up shop,” he announced.

 

“But,” Isabella said, disappointed.

 

“You missed him,” he explained, patting her back.  “Some other time.”

 

 

Isabella was ordinarily a homebody, content to stay in on a Friday night.  Lately, however, since that was most frequently the night that Jack had the kids stay over; she had managed to convince Jessie that maybe just this one time, Friday would be a better Girl’s Night since she hated being home alone.   Luckily, this night she was going to do something totally out of the norm.  She and Jessie were going out for drinks at the Naked Turtle.  Isabella rummaged through her closet and drawers, trying desperately to find something, anything that she deemed appropriate to wear to such a location.

 

At last, she settled on a black sleeveless mock turtleneck and a pair of tan shorts.  After rubbing lotion on her legs, she selected an anklet and two toe rings to accentuate her newly painted wine colored toe nails, which of course matched her fingernails and lip color.  She pulled her hair up into a messy twist and clipped it into place.  Satisfied with what she saw in the mirror, Isabella misted on her favorite
perfume.  She wasn’t expecting to meet anyone.  She just wanted to fit in, to blend, to not feel so old, worn out, and out of place.  

 

When she pulled into the gravelly driveway, she saw Jessie still sitting in her car.  She was talking on her phone, seeing Isabella she waved while mouthing ‘Jeff.’  Once her conversation ended, they walked in together, Jessie chattering happily about her day.

The Turtle existed as a wonderfully rustic indoor-outdoor seasonal dining and bar experience.  The extensive menu, reasonable prices, and lakeside location adjacent to the marina made it incredibly popular with the twenty-something and up crowd.

 

Soon the two were seated on the patio, next to some Tiki torches, and overlooking the water.  Jessie sipped away at a Merlot, while Isabella enjoyed a Midori Sour.  Jessie paused mid-sip and commented, “Well, Isabella, you are certainly more relaxed than normal.  What has you in such a good mood?”  She practically had to shout above the disc jockey.

 

“Well, Jessie,” Isabella began sarcastically, “I kind of wonder that myself.  I’m working on a divorce from the biggest player in town.  I have two kids, which means no man will want more than sex from me for the rest of my natural life.  The gallery opening, which has me tense beyond belief, I can’t withdraw from.  Dr. Pam wouldn’t allow it.  I am on a tight budget because Jack won’t pay child support.  And yet, for some reason, I feel great tonight.”  She laughed quietly then added, “Must be the liquor!”

 

Jessie smiled, but could read Isabella so well that she knew there must be more to this.  “No, really,” she insisted.  “Something must have happened today to put you in such a great frame of mind.  Spill it.”

 

Isabella smiled widely then said very slowly so as to build interest, “Well...there was...one thing.”

 

Jessie set her glass down on the table roughly, sloshing the wine against the rim.  She leaned forward to listen intently. 
This was what she wanted to know about, she could feel it.  “See!  I knew it!  It was a guy wasn’t it?  Some guy asked you out!  Who is he?”

 

Now Isabella laughed.  It felt like high school all over again.  “Whoa, Jess.  It does have to do with a guy, but I don’t know who he is.  I’ll probably never see him again.”  She began to relay the story of her day, her meeting with Dr. Pam, how she ran into this handsome stranger, and then went into great detail about her hall dance.  Isabella struggled to explain her feelings, and describe him, when she realized that Jessie currently focused on something behind her.  She paused in her story and prepared to turn around, but before she could do so, a vaguely familiar thickly French accented voice spoke into her ear.

 

 

Gabriel had been about to leave.  No one had captured his attention, which was unusual.  Even more unusual was that his attention was divided between business and the woman who had made such a vivid impression on him earlier that day.  And all he had done was dance with her for a moment in a hall.  He deserved a good swift kick.  How could he not have asked for a phone number?  This was a small town, but not so small that he could expect to just stumble across her again.

 

And what was it about her anyway?  She was attractive with her shoulder length honey brown hair, small and fit, curvy in all the right places, from what he remembered of their brief encounter.  She had giggled.  Not the annoying ways females did when they tried to be coy, but in this charming self-deprecating manner that he found utterly appealing.  Oh, and those eyes.  They were a deep brown, almost impossible to distinguish the iris from the pupil, though he would have gladly taken a few moments to try.  He sighed and swore to himself that if he ever saw her again, he would make the time to get to know her.  She could be a nice diversion, while he was here. 

 

No sooner had he made his declaration than he found her.  He nearly rubbed his eyes to assure himself that she truly was there.  It was
her.  She had changed her clothes.  And her legs were…perfect.  She was talking with another woman while they sipped drinks at a table near the water.  Before he could give his actions a second thought, Gabriel had walked up behind her and was whispering in her ear.

 

“Shall we dance, mademoiselle?”

 

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