Some people were naturally quiet, and I’d never want to change her, but her energy seemed up and down. She was a bit skittish until she had a job to focus on.
I wondered what I could do to get her to focus on me.
CHAPTER THREE
* Chelsea *
I spent Sunday in a haze, not believing Saturday night had actually happened. I met one of the most amazing photographers in the country, and I was seventy percent sure that he had been flirting with me.
A quick online search assured me that he was single, never been married, and somewhere in his mid-thirties. It was strange that I’d never looked into his personal life before. I’d thought of him as an artist, not a man. Even though he was obviously incredibly handsome in his photos, I also knew how photos could be deceiving. Everyone looks pretty good at their best possible angle.
There was something in his eyes that could never be captured in a photo. He was confident, often teasing, and seemed amused by the entire world. He was an incredibly positive person, and I found that even more inspiring.
My mind kept replaying every moment of that night, savoring little treasures like his hug, and the way he held my hand as we zipped through crowds. But he could just be one of those touchy-feely people that used their hands a lot.
Yet the way he tousled my hair so sweetly… Just the memory sent a shiver of desire down my spine. I realized with shock that I’d never been genuinely physically attracted to a man like this before. No wonder I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
On Monday I sailed through my afternoon classes and was about to head home when Ben sent me a text.
Hey Chelsea – want to drop by the studio this evening? I should be finished up a shoot by six pm. Then we could go over all of the shots from Saturday and put some collections together. Hope to see you soon.
It was four o’clock. I’d just have time to dash home to change and make it to his studio for six. I didn’t want him to see me in a crappy pink t-shirt and jeans. I wanted to appear professional, but also a bit sexier.
Sure, I’ll be there for six. See you soon.
I rushed home and found a cream button-down shirt and peachy-orange skirt that would be appropriate for a job interview. I had to admit though, it also brought out the sun-kissed lighter bits of my hair, and made me look quite feminine.
As I applied a touch of makeup, I noticed my hands were trembling. I was being ridiculous. There’s no way Ben would want to date someone like me. I certainly wasn’t someone he could show off. I wasn’t glamorous. I wouldn’t know how to behave around a worldly man like that.
Giving my head a shake, I bolted out the door, jumping on the subway for a few stops. Ben answered the door with a huge grin and a hug.
“Hey, welcome. Let’s go over Saturday’s shots,” he said immediately. I handed him the memory card, and he loaded them into his computer, pulling a chair over for me.
He started scrolling through them rapidly, and it was interesting to watch his eyes scan my photos so quickly. I was barely breathing, nervous about his reaction.
“Chelsea, these are stunning.”
I finally exhaled completely.
“Interestingly, your style is a bit similar, but you certainly have your own unique flair. Honestly, I think it complements mine.” He turned, his boyish grin making my stomach clench. “I have to show you something.”
He opened another folder, loading the photos he took of me on the street with the festival lights behind me. They were all amazing, but he opened one and made it full screen.
I actually gasped. It was just my eyes, and my hair, and the wild lights and action just over my shoulder. It was flirty and fun, and honestly made the festival look like a blast.
“This shot is definitely going to be used in the marketing materials for next year’s festival,” he said. “I bet you a nickel it’s going to be the poster.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’ll have to work backward, and get you to sign a model release and all that, and of course you’ll be paid. Don’t worry, we’ll figure that all out.”
I nodded. I didn’t care about any of that. I was just stunned that a photo of me taken by Ben Hayes, might go public. It was amazing, but uncomfortable.
“Chelsea, I saw your eyes light up when I suggested working together the other night. Are you looking for a job?”
I nodded, wanting to jump up and down and giggle and explode all at the same time.
His phone beeped, and he glanced, then rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I need to check this.”