by Linda Boulanger Indeed~Shoot~Cry
The doorbell rang just as the man inside pushed back the sleeve of his Armani tee to check the time again. She was over twenty-five minutes late. Rain or no, that was not acceptable in Matthew Calhoune’s world. With steps that fell hard on the polished terrazzo floor, he marched to the ornately carved front door and jerked it open. He’d been prepared to tell the beauty on the other side to turn tail and head back the way she’d come. Instead, his heart constricted at the sight of the young lady, completely drenched, trying not to shiver as she leaned against his doorjamb. She looked up at him with blue eyes that spoke of failure, begged for forgiveness that he knew he should give even as the tart words formed on his tongue.
“You’re late!” He tapped the face of his black and gold Gucci. “That’s something I absolutely cannot tolerate.” His full lips thinning, he glared at her with a crossness he didn’t feel.
Tears filled the sky blue pools. Oh good Lord! She was going to cry. Matthew Calhoune could handle just about anything from a woman, except tears.
Her head dropped, blocking Matthew’s view of the droplets he was sure were spilling onto those perfectly sculpted cheeks. He wanted to reach out and tip her face back up to his so that he could study the exquisite lines on the canvas before him. Even soaking wet, there was a beauty about her. Indeed, she was a superb specimen and his mind began to whirl, thinking of the images he’d capture with the lens of his camera. This photo shoot was going to be different. He could feel the excitement churning inside him. It was about time. Photographing beautiful women should not morph into a boring experience.
Without a word, Matthew turned on his heel and began to retreat back toward his office only to realize no soggy footsteps seemed to be following. “Hey?” he yelled through the still open door when he wheeled back around to see her disappearing down the perfectly landscaped, flower lined walkway. A few very quick steps had him by her side, his hand on her arm to stop her. Those blue eyes sought his, making him laugh when he realized she wasn’t crying. She was angry.
She tried to pull away but Matthew’s grip was firm, though not hard. He’d hate to have to airbrush out handprint bruises from her photographs. “Are you mad at me?” he asked when she continued to glare at him.
“No. Of course not.” She scrunched her nose when she answered. “Well, maybe a little. I tried to call, but my phone went dead. Cell phones don’t like to get drenched.” She sighed. “It’s not like I wanted to be late. I know I should have planned better, but you didn’t have to be so mean about it.” Soft, naturally red lips formed the perfect pout that made Matthew want to scream. He needed to get her into the studio. Now.
Only once his hand dropped, she began again to walk away.
“Sasha!”
She froze. He’d almost called her Alexandra, a formality he would have extended to any other model. Somehow he knew the use of her real name would have left him watching her go. The familiarity of a nickname had done the trick. “I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke to her backside. “I just wanted you to know your lateness was unappreciated. Come in. We have work to do.”
Oh no. There were tears again when she turned to face him. She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m a mess and I’m sure my clothing is soaked inside here.”
Matthew noticed for the first time the bag on rollers that she’d pulled behind her. His brows drew down. “Why didn’t you leave that at your hotel?”
The young lady, a good six inches shorter than his 6’2” height, shifted from foot to foot and twisted a delicious chocolate curl around a slender finger. “It… I… I thought I might need something?” she asked instead of told. Her uncertainty didn’t sell it either.
“Do you even have a room yet?”
Sasha shook her head and looked away. “I kind of needed the money from the shoot before I could get one.”
Matthew felt certain he’d see more tears in those gorgeous eyes if she was to turn back in his direction. Damn if his heart wasn’t getting involved in this one and that was something he vowed a long time ago that he would never do. Business and pleasure were not to mix and relationships on a whole were to be mostly avoided. He thought about his mom and the loveless marriage she’d endured to his dad, only to have that selfish man walk out on her right as middle aged crazies set in. Fortunately for her, life had sent someone to bandage her wounds. He smiled. His mom seemed truly happy, though Matthew knew her scars ran deep. That was something he didn’t want. No, when he finally gave his heart away, it was going to be on his terms and in his timing. But this girl he knew very little about, other than the fact that she was obviously down on her luck even with those looks, had managed to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He thought for a moment. Maybe it would be better if he just let her go.
But he couldn’t. Knew he wouldn’t.
“And I suppose you walked all the way out here?”
She offered the expected head nod. “The lady at the Hope bus station said your house was just at the end of the road.” A sarcastic half laugh punctuated the sentence. “Only a couple of miles doesn’t seem that far when you’re on the starting end of them and, well, I didn’t think the slightly gray clouds overhead could possibly rip open with such a vengeance. If I’d realized, I would have called from the station.” She shrugged. “Again, poor planning on my part and I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
Now it was Matthew’s turn to shrug, right after he’d cringed internally. Bus station? Why would anyone use the bus lines these days? Unless… He decided to let it go. “Well, you’re here now. Let’s see what we can do to salvage the session. When did you schedule your return home?” Matthew was already thinking about taking advantage of her drenching for a wet session this afternoon, perhaps followed by the scheduled boudoir shots tomorrow. He’d love to get her into some elegant clothing for some period work if they had time. She’d look stunning as a Regency Lady or a Medieval Maiden. Out of all the women he’d shot lately, this one had incredible promise. If he could have had her for a week…
“I left it open, but I have to be back at school by Tuesday morning at the latest. I have to open the campus bookstore.”
Campus. At least they were talking college-aged school. Her bio had said twenty-three, but she could have lied. It happened in his business. Matthew did a quick bit of math. If she really was twenty-three that put him at almost nine years her senior. A bit of a span, but definitely doable.
What the… Those were not the directions his thoughts should be taking. Had his heart not heard a single syllable of the words that had been running through his head?
A purposely cleared throat pulled him back. He realized she was staring at him, watching with hope-filled eyes. His laughter raised the corners of his lips, caused a bit of a crinkling beside his own baby blues. “Come on.” Grabbing the handle of her rolling bag, he turned it around and headed toward the still-opened door. His smile wide, he walked on. Now that he had possession of her bag she surely had no choice but to follow. “You know, I have a really nice guest suite.” He stopped at the bottom of a grand staircase and turned toward her. His brows creased. He could have sworn she’d quickly hidden near laughter. Perhaps the innocence that seemed to run through her was only skin deep.
He gazed into her perfect blues for a moment, his apprehensions fading. He shrugged and made the comment he’d been about to make. “Maybe you could just stay here and we could start again very early in the morning. I’m thinking some sunrise shots in the rose garden would be absolutely divine…”
“Miss? Miss!” The distinctly feminine voice made Sasha jump, her head bumping hard against the window. That same voice chuckled as she rubbed her head while looking around to try to get hear bearings. “That must have been a pretty good dream.” She nudged the young woman with her elbow. You know, many a dream found root right here in Hope. Anyway, we’re here.”
The heavyset older woman with the kindest of faces was already gathering her few possessions and shoving them back into her oversized knitting bag that had landed itself partway on Sasha’s lap for most of the trip. Sasha slipped her purse over her shoulder then waited to get off, reminding herself not to sit so far back the next time.
“Good luck with your pictures,” she called to Sasha before walking away, her new grandbaby cuddled in her arms. More family members crowded around her, obviously happy to have her near.
Sasha smiled, grabbed her suitcase from the driver, and headed inside the station to try to figure out how to get to Mr. Calhoune’s house.
“What can I do for you?” The overly thin woman behind the counter asked even before Sasha had walked up to her. Sasha figured she must have looked lost.
“Could you direct me to Matthew Calhoune’s home? His address is…”
“It’s at the end of Enchantment Road,” she interrupted, laughing at Sasha’s surprise before looking her over with a knowing nod. “The road starts at the end of the bus station drive. Everyone in town knows where it is. Want me to call you a cab?”
Sasha shook her head. “I was thinking about walking.”
Raised eyebrows met her statement. “I don’t know. We’re due some rain this afternoon. You don’t want to get caught out in it.”
A beautiful smile touched the young woman’s lips. “I think I’ll chance it,” she told the older woman. “Could you tell me how far it is to his house?”
Biting at her lower lip, her head tipping back and forth in contemplation, the clerk finally tapped her cheek and offered up two fingers. “A little less than two miles, I’d say.”
“Thanks.” Sasha turned and walked away, her bag scraping along behind her.
“Welcome to Hope,” the woman called to her as she exited the station.
Sasha smiled as the first droplets of rain began to fall. What had the woman on the bus said about dreams? If ever a dream was going to come true, it might as well be in a place called Hope.
The doorbell rang just as the man inside pushed back the sleeve of his Armani tee to check the time again. She was over twenty-five minutes late. Rain or no, that was not acceptable in Matthew Calhoune’s world. With steps that fell hard on the polished terrazzo floor, he marched to the ornately carved front door and jerked it open. He’d been prepared to tell the beauty on the other side to turn tail and head back the way she’d come. Instead, his heart constricted at the sight of the young lady, completely drenched, trying not to shiver as she leaned against his doorjamb. She looked up at him with blue eyes that spoke of failure, begged for forgiveness that he knew he should give even as the tart words formed on his tongue.
“You’re late!” He tapped the face of his black and gold Gucci. “That’s something I absolutely cannot tolerate.” His full lips thinning, he glared at her with a crossness he didn’t feel.
Tears filled the sky blue pools. Oh good Lord! She was going to cry. Matthew Calhoune could handle just about anything from a woman, except tears.
Her head dropped, blocking Matthew’s view of the droplets he was sure were spilling onto those perfectly sculpted cheeks. He wanted to reach out and tip her face back up to his so that he could study the exquisite lines on the canvas before him. Even soaking wet, there was a beauty about her. Indeed, she was a superb specimen and his mind began to whirl, thinking of the images he’d capture with the lens of his camera. This photo shoot was going to be different. He could feel the excitement churning inside him. It was about time. Photographing beautiful women should not morph into a boring experience.
Without a word, Matthew turned on his heel and began to retreat back toward his office only to realize no soggy footsteps seemed to be following. “Hey?” he yelled through the still open door when he wheeled back around to see her disappearing down the perfectly landscaped, flower lined walkway. A few very quick steps had him by her side, his hand on her arm to stop her. Those blue eyes sought his, making him laugh when he realized she wasn’t crying. She was angry.
She tried to pull away but Matthew’s grip was firm, though not hard. He’d hate to have to airbrush out handprint bruises from her photographs. “Are you mad at me?” he asked when she continued to glare at him.
“No. Of course not.” She scrunched her nose when she answered. “Well, maybe a little. I tried to call, but my phone went dead. Cell phones don’t like to get drenched.” She sighed. “It’s not like I wanted to be late. I know I should have planned better, but you didn’t have to be so mean about it.” Soft, naturally red lips formed the perfect pout that made Matthew want to scream. He needed to get her into the studio. Now.
Only once his hand dropped, she began again to walk away.
“Sasha!”
She froze. He’d almost called her Alexandra, a formality he would have extended to any other model. Somehow he knew the use of her real name would have left him watching her go. The familiarity of a nickname had done the trick. “I don’t want you to leave.” He spoke to her backside. “I just wanted you to know your lateness was unappreciated. Come in. We have work to do.”
Oh no. There were tears again when she turned to face him. She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m a mess and I’m sure my clothing is soaked inside here.”
Matthew noticed for the first time the bag on rollers that she’d pulled behind her. His brows drew down. “Why didn’t you leave that at your hotel?”
The young lady, a good six inches shorter than his 6’2” height, shifted from foot to foot and twisted a delicious chocolate curl around a slender finger. “It… I… I thought I might need something?” she asked instead of told. Her uncertainty didn’t sell it either.
“Do you even have a room yet?”
Sasha shook her head and looked away. “I kind of needed the money from the shoot before I could get one.”
Matthew felt certain he’d see more tears in those gorgeous eyes if she was to turn back in his direction. Damn if his heart wasn’t getting involved in this one and that was something he vowed a long time ago that he would never do. Business and pleasure were not to mix and relationships on a whole were to be mostly avoided. He thought about his mom and the loveless marriage she’d endured to his dad, only to have that selfish man walk out on her right as middle aged crazies set in. Fortunately for her, life had sent someone to bandage her wounds. He smiled. His mom seemed truly happy, though Matthew knew her scars ran deep. That was something he didn’t want. No, when he finally gave his heart away, it was going to be on his terms and in his timing. But this girl he knew very little about, other than the fact that she was obviously down on her luck even with those looks, had managed to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He thought for a moment. Maybe it would be better if he just let her go.
But he couldn’t. Knew he wouldn’t.
“And I suppose you walked all the way out here?”
She offered the expected head nod. “The lady at the Hope bus station said your house was just at the end of the road.” A sarcastic half laugh punctuated the sentence. “Only a couple of miles doesn’t seem that far when you’re on the starting end of them and, well, I didn’t think the slightly gray clouds overhead could possibly rip open with such a vengeance. If I’d realized, I would have called from the station.” She shrugged. “Again, poor planning on my part and I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
Now it was Matthew’s turn to shrug, right after he’d cringed internally. Bus station? Why would anyone use the bus lines these days? Unless… He decided to let it go. “Well, you’re here now. Let’s see what we can do to salvage the session. When did you schedule your return home?” Matthew was already thinking about taking advantage of her drenching for a wet session this afternoon, perhaps followed by the scheduled boudoir shots tomorrow. He’d love to get her into some elegant clothing for some period work if they had time. She’d look stunning as a Regency Lady or a Medieval Maiden. Out of all the women he’d shot lately, this one had incredible promise. If he could have had her for a week…
“I left it open, but I have to be back at school by Tuesday morning at the latest. I have to open the campus bookstore.”
Campus. At least they were talking college-aged school. Her bio had said twenty-three, but she could have lied. It happened in his business. Matthew did a quick bit of math. If she really was twenty-three that put him at almost nine years her senior. A bit of a span, but definitely doable.
What the… Those were not the directions his thoughts should be taking. Had his heart not heard a single syllable of the words that had been running through his head?
A purposely cleared throat pulled him back. He realized she was staring at him, watching with hope-filled eyes. His laughter raised the corners of his lips, caused a bit of a crinkling beside his own baby blues. “Come on.” Grabbing the handle of her rolling bag, he turned it around and headed toward the still-opened door. His smile wide, he walked on. Now that he had possession of her bag she surely had no choice but to follow. “You know, I have a really nice guest suite.” He stopped at the bottom of a grand staircase and turned toward her. His brows creased. He could have sworn she’d quickly hidden near laughter. Perhaps the innocence that seemed to run through her was only skin deep.
He gazed into her perfect blues for a moment, his apprehensions fading. He shrugged and made the comment he’d been about to make. “Maybe you could just stay here and we could start again very early in the morning. I’m thinking some sunrise shots in the rose garden would be absolutely divine…”
“Miss? Miss!” The distinctly feminine voice made Sasha jump, her head bumping hard against the window. That same voice chuckled as she rubbed her head while looking around to try to get hear bearings. “That must have been a pretty good dream.” She nudged the young woman with her elbow. You know, many a dream found root right here in Hope. Anyway, we’re here.”
The heavyset older woman with the kindest of faces was already gathering her few possessions and shoving them back into her oversized knitting bag that had landed itself partway on Sasha’s lap for most of the trip. Sasha slipped her purse over her shoulder then waited to get off, reminding herself not to sit so far back the next time.
“Good luck with your pictures,” she called to Sasha before walking away, her new grandbaby cuddled in her arms. More family members crowded around her, obviously happy to have her near.
Sasha smiled, grabbed her suitcase from the driver, and headed inside the station to try to figure out how to get to Mr. Calhoune’s house.
“What can I do for you?” The overly thin woman behind the counter asked even before Sasha had walked up to her. Sasha figured she must have looked lost.
“Could you direct me to Matthew Calhoune’s home? His address is…”
“It’s at the end of Enchantment Road,” she interrupted, laughing at Sasha’s surprise before looking her over with a knowing nod. “The road starts at the end of the bus station drive. Everyone in town knows where it is. Want me to call you a cab?”
Sasha shook her head. “I was thinking about walking.”
Raised eyebrows met her statement. “I don’t know. We’re due some rain this afternoon. You don’t want to get caught out in it.”
A beautiful smile touched the young woman’s lips. “I think I’ll chance it,” she told the older woman. “Could you tell me how far it is to his house?”
Biting at her lower lip, her head tipping back and forth in contemplation, the clerk finally tapped her cheek and offered up two fingers. “A little less than two miles, I’d say.”
“Thanks.” Sasha turned and walked away, her bag scraping along behind her.
“Welcome to Hope,” the woman called to her as she exited the station.
Sasha smiled as the first droplets of rain began to fall. What had the woman on the bus said about dreams? If ever a dream was going to come true, it might as well be in a place called Hope.