“What?”
“Oh, yeah, you do,” Jessie said. “Standing her up for dinners, expecting her to do your laundry. You’re lucky she doesn’t leave your fat sorry ass.”
“Hey,” Marston said, but the truth had hit home, Rick could tell. He did take the girl for granted.
“And Gloria would like a photo, too, Mark,” Rick added. “Because of how you’ll react to it. You’ll see her new again. Samantha opens people’s eyes. I’ve seen it over and over.”
“I don’t know about my girlfriend, but I’d pay to have Jessie get a shot like that,” Rocky said. “We’d pick out your outfit, wouldn’t we, guys?”
“Sit and spin, Marston,” Jessie said, but she leaned closer to Rick. “So, how does it work exactly? My boyfriend kind of wants a picture for his wallet.”
“For his wallet, huh? Oooh.” Marston again. Jessie slugged him this time. Hard.
Rick explained a sitting to Jessie. As he talked, he remembered how each shot Samantha took held heart and hope and, hell, magic. And, even more, he realized he’d loved helping her take them. People shots weren’t so bad. Lately, it didn’t hurt so much to look into their hearts, their hopes, their shy dreams.
In fact, he felt honored to be part of it.
Because of Samantha and what she’d taught him.
He looked up and saw that Marston, Mark and three other guys were drinking in every word, not even touching their beers. Bedroom Eyes was just down the road. The photos on the wall would still be up. Maybe he could snag some new clients for Samantha…and talk to her, too, about what he’d been thinking.
“Come on. The studio’s a block away. You can see for yourselves.”
He dialed Samantha’s number. He’d surprise her with new clients for down the line. And he’d surprise her with his heart. And pray to God she meant what she’d said about love being sturdy.
He knew his love was strong, for sure. As he waited for her to answer, he felt as if someone had wrapped a fist around his heart and wouldn’t free a beat until he got her back, convinced her to spend her life with him. He wasn’t so sure about the rules anymore. Except for one: When you find a person to love, don’t let her go without a fight.
SAMANTHA PULLED UP to Bedroom Eyes, her heart in her throat, her breath coming shallow and quick. Rick wanted her to meet him here to talk. He’d sounded mysterious, but also warm, and he’d made her hopes soar.
She didn’t know what to think. Really, she was afraid to think. She just jumped into her car and drove to the studio, pulling up in front behind Rick’s Jeep and another SUV.
Through the window, she could see Rick pointing at one of her pictures and talking to four people—she recognized Mark among them—looking for all the world as if he were leading a gallery tour. How bizarre.
The lobby entrance was unlocked, the crime-scene tape pulled away, and she hurried to the Bedroom Eyes entrance, pausing outside the door at the shock of seeing through the glass door the tipped-over counter, remembering all that had happened here since that morning.
She shoved open the door and everyone turned to her.
“Samantha,” Rick said, his eyes brimming with emotion—love, maybe, and hope. “I want you to meet some of my squad mates. I was trying to tell them about your work and figured that seeing was believing.”
“How nice,” she said, her heart spilling over with love for him.
“You do wonderful work,” a woman said. “I’m Jessie.”
Samantha shook the hand she extended. “Thank you very much.”
“And how much does something like that cost?” the man next to Mark asked.
“That’s Rocky Marston,” Rick said to Samantha, “and he makes every nickel squeak.” Rick turned to Rocky. “Less than you lost on the Suns game and it’ll change you both for the better.”
His words made her smile. Where had she ever gotten the idea that Rick disapproved of her work? It was her parents she was worried about and maybe they wouldn’t be as judgmental as she’d feared. It was high time she found out. Even if they were horrified, it wouldn’t change what she did or how she felt about her work. She was through seeing herself through others’ eyes.
“Take that woman,” Rick said, nodding at one of the photos. “She came in here looking like hammered shit—cold and scared hammered shit. Samantha warmed her up, brought her out of herself, captured that extra something about her that—”
“We get the idea,” Mark said, holding up his hands, rolling his eyes with affection. “Book us for photos, Samantha. Once you get going again. And while you’re at it, got any time shares? Rick seems to think you walk on water.”