Thought I Knew You(63)

One of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen sidled up to Drew and kissed his cheek. She was tall, practically six feet, with olive skin and a dark tangle of formed curls highlighted red and blond. Chic beyond belief. Model thin, with the elegance to match, she gave me an inclusive, radiant smile. “Darling, you should hear what people said before you got here. I’ve heard people say ‘buyers’ already.” Her voice was silky with an unidentifiable accent.

He raised his eyebrows at her and turned to me. “Claire, meet Olivia.”

My heart sank. Her? She was the Olivia? I expected blond. I expected giggly and girlish, with unrealistic breast implants. I did not expect the most fantastic woman I’d ever laid eyes on. My leggings and sweater felt as sophisticated as Leah’s footie pajamas.

“Claire, so nice to meet you. You can’t imagine how much I’ve heard about you. It’s like I know you already.” She leaned in and, instead of shaking my hand, hugged me, enveloping me in Chanel No. 5. Of course, what else? Was I even wearing perfume?

All I could smell was the light baby fragrance of my hair. I’d run out of shampoo that morning and had to use Leah’s. Real sexy, Claire. She linked her arm through mine and dragged me away from Drew. I looked back at him, and he shrugged as if to say, I don’t know. Have fun!





“Have you seen his photos yet?” Olivia asked.

I shook my head. I had yet to speak. I couldn’t speak.

“He’s so worried about you. He thinks you’re going to hate him when you do.” She stopped and turned to me. “There are six photos behind you, arranged in a collection. I’ll leave you to look at them and come back to get you.” She disappeared into the small crowd. This woman is very, very good, I thought.

I turned and gazed at the display. My first impression: These are beautiful. Every picture captured complete vulnerability. Every photo portrayed the man’s complete love and adoration for the woman beside him. The emotion was open and apparent in every shot. Some shots were in profile, while others were full facial, or wide-angle close-ups. The women were in various positions and with a variety of responses. One was on her blackberry, ignoring her lunch date. One was returning the passionate expression. One photo seemed to be of a kiss a fraction of a second before it happened—eyes closed, lips parted. The photos were completely raw and human. And yes, they did appear to be affairs. In one picture, the woman was furtively looking over her shoulder. The expressions so sensual, I found it hard to believe the couples were married. Married couples don’t look at each other like that. Do they?

“What do you think?” Drew asked from behind me. “I’ve been watching you, but you haven’t moved for five minutes. I couldn’t wait any longer.” I turned, and he looked nervous.

“Oh, Drew, they’re breathtaking. They’re amazing! I can’t believe you took these.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, not at all. This has nothing to do with me. These are beautiful. They’re almost hard to look at because they’re so… graphic. Not sexually, but raw human emotion boiled down to a single moment in time. And you captured that. These people were going about their day, meeting their spouses for lunch, and you snapped the shutter at the right moment to capture a whole life’s emotion in one shot. It’s crazy.” I shook my head. “I’m explaining this terribly.”



“No, you’re saying it wonderfully. Thank you.” He hugged me.

I rested my cheek on his chest, relaxing into the embrace, our bodies connecting down to our toes. His breathing quickened ever so slightly, but enough for me to detect it. For a split second, he pulled me closer, and I concentrated on the cadence of his heart. I imagined it speeding up, or maybe it wasn’t my imagination. Matching my breathing to his, I watched his neck as he swallowed. What if I kissed it? Right here?

We broke apart, and he held my gaze for a second longer before we were interrupted by someone asking a question about the pictures. Drew’s eyes found mine, saying… what? I’m sorry?

He introduced me to the person, then they made small talk. I looked around the room and spotted Olivia. She moved effortlessly from group to group, each clique opening to let her in immediately. She circulated and laughed, her hand on an arm, even a cheek—Who does that?—flirting with men and women alike, bestowing her light on everyone equally. She reminded me of Sarah, but even Sarah didn’t shine that brilliantly.

She caught me looking, came over, and squeezed my hand. “What did you think?”

I realized that her eyes were different colors. The right one was a deep blue, almost purple, exotic in its own right, while the left one was green. The effect was mesmerizing.