At least now she could tell the lawyer that she’d started. Mind you, Ryne’s answers had been less than satisfactory. That whole ‘I didn’t exist before photography’ bit was just too corny, like something out of a badly written script. Yet, even though she knew it was ridiculous, something in the way he looked at her, the tone of his voice, the angle of his head—it had compelled her to obey, to not question... It was just weird. Even now, she couldn’t imagine asking him again. Well, it had been an ‘airy fairy artsy’ type of answer, but she supposed it might be acceptable to those who truly lived and breathed art. Hopefully, she’d be able to get enough information with her other questions that no one would notice a certain lack of background detail.
Ryne’s truck pulled up to the cabin and Mel got to her feet, walking over to greet him. He gave her apparel a once over and then nodded in approval.
“Much better. Here’s a camera you can use. It’s an older model that I have just as a backup, but it still takes a decent picture.”
Mel looked at the small digital camera. Ryne might think it was out of date, but to her it appeared relatively new. He showed her how to use the zoom, flash and shutter speed adjustments. “Of course it’s only four megapixels, but that’s sufficient for a starter like yourself.”
“Megapixels?”
“Yeah—it’s sort of like how precise or clear your picture will be. Usually, the more pixels, the sharper the image. The term comes from combining the words ‘picture element.’ You know how pointillist artists, like Seurat or Van Gogh use a bunch of little splotches of paint to create a whole picture? Well, millions of pixels combine to create an image.”
Ryne continued to explain the intricacies of modern photography as they walked through the woods. He also gave her pointers on looking for focal point, watching shadows and a myriad of other small details that she’d never considered before. By the time they headed back to the cabin, she had a much greater appreciation for taking pictures.
“I hope you know that you’ve ruined me. I’ll never be able to just point and shoot again with a disposable camera from the drug store.” She laughed up at him as they stood by his truck, their shoulders lightly touching.
“You won’t be the first woman I’ve ruined.” He quirked a smile at her, but Mel felt her happy mood suddenly sour at the mention of his womanizing ways.
She stepped back and stuck out her hand. “Well, thank you for your time. Maybe we can continue the interview tomorrow.”
Ryne looked puzzled. “What’s the matter, Melody?”
“Nothing’s the matter, and my name is Mel.”
“No. To me, you’re a Melody.” He ignored her outstretched hand and much to her surprise pulled her into his arms. Once she was pressed flush against him, he questioned her again. “Now what’s wrong? One minute we’re laughing and enjoying ourselves and the next, you’re the ice queen.”
Mel compressed her lips tightly, reluctant to explain herself, but once again feeling compelled to bow to his wishes. It was strangely annoying, this effect he had on her. Against her will, she found herself explaining. “You mentioned all the women you’ve...er...ruined. And it reminded me that I’m just here for a little while and I have a job to do. Getting too...um...friendly with you is a bad idea.”
Ryne’s arms tightened around her briefly before letting her go. This time he was the one to step back. Mel immediately missed the contact with him, but pushed the feeling away. Bad Mel, she told herself. You slipped up the other morning, and just now you forgot again, but no more!
“You’re right. Our getting involved the other morning wasn’t the best idea, but...” Ryne hesitated, appearing conflicted, almost as if he didn’t want to utter the next idea. “That doesn’t mean we can’t at least enjoy each other’s company, right? There’d be no harm in that. After all, sitting around a table somewhere just asking and answering questions won’t be a lot of fun.” He gave her a half smile and winked.
No harm. Mel repeated the words inside her head, not sure if she believed them or not. Looking at the man in front of her, there was no way she could conclude he was harmless. Dangerous—yes; harmless—no. But, she did need to finish the interview and it was much more pleasant to have a friendly conversation...
“I suppose...” She thought for a moment, then made a face. “You’re right. I was just over-reacting. I guess our little ‘encounter’ yesterday morning threw me off.” Feeling herself flush, she forced herself to continue. “It’s not the sort of thing I usually do.”