SHOOT: A Novel (10 page)

A bit more than a
few minutes later the two of us reached the bar, but I knew the walk took
longer due to our slow pace. We had been enjoying each other’s company too much
to rush anything and the journey was definitely a lot more important than the
destination. As soon as we stepped inside, the noise pounded against my ears.

Brad leaned in,
“What would you like to drink?” His warm breath brushed against my ear and sent
tingles flowing down my neck.
 
I wracked my
brain for a moment before remembering the advice my roommates gave me, “Vodka
and soda.”

Brad smiled
knowingly, “Did that come from the other models?”

I smiled
sheepishly and nodded. I’d been caught. Brad chuckled and shook his head.

“Listen, I know
you’re new and it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. I’m sure they’re really just
trying to help you, but you shouldn’t let them tell you what to do either.
There’s a difference between taking advice and letting someone else’s words run
your life.” He reached over to grab one of the cocktail menus littering the
ledge of the bar’s window to show me his personal favorites. “It’s always good
to try something new,” he told me with a suggestive smirk.

I wanted to reply with
some witty statement, but my mind drew a blank. Instead, I pulled the menu
closer to me to have a good look at the options but everything looked unfamiliar.
I had no idea what any of the hard liquors tasted like, save for vodka, so I
hadn’t a clue what sort of cocktail would be good. Thinking back on the
fresh-squeezed juices I was used to drinking back home, I asked Brad what
drinks were fruity and delicious.

“Fruity and
delicious?” he asked. He was looking at me with interest before giving a small
smile and taking the menu. “I’ve got it,” and headed off to the bar to place
the order.

I leaned against
the back wall and watched him as he waited for the drinks to be prepared and
then paid the bartender. He returned holding two glasses. He handed me a bright
blue drink with plenty of ice.

“Let’s go find a
place to sit and enjoy our drinks.” He said as he gently guided me with his
hand on my lower back. My breath fluttered a little as I felt his hand nestle
against me. The two of us weaved through the crowd, which was much rowdier than
the busy tapas restaurant we had just come from.

Once he found a
corner table on the back patio, he set his glass down and pulled out my chair. He
waved his arms and presented the chair to me in an exaggeratedly manner. I
giggled and took a seat, toying with the red straw in my drink. It was the sort
of drink I imagined a young woman would enjoy on the beach with the sun beating
down on her skin and the sound of the ocean waves crashing in the distance. I closed
my eyes and breathed in. My mind started to wander as I thought maybe one day,
just maybe, I’d be able to afford such a lovely vacation.

 
“So what do you think?”

My eyes snapped
open and I saw Brad staring at me. Not knowing if he was asking about my drink
or the bar, I hastily took my first sip and nodded. “It’s good,” I smiled in
approval.

 
It was tasty and refreshing save for the
slight after taste of whatever liquor was in it. Regardless, it was definitely
something I would like to drink again so I made a mental note to ask him what it
was. I also wondered how much my roommates would freak out if they found out I
had anything other than a vodka soda, especially after such an indulgent
dinner.
 

“Oh,” he said,
looking slightly disappointed, but he quickly covered it up by looking around
and taking a drink from his own cocktail. I tilted my head and looked at him
questioningly. I was confused because my response to the drink had been
positive. Then it dawned on me that maybe he had been looking for a different
type of answer.

I took a long sip
and looked around. Despite the loud crowd it was quite an energetic atmosphere I
enjoyed. It was completely different than the vibe at “Roses” and, truthfully, I
liked this place better. I turned back to look at Brad and smiled around my
straw.

I felt good—really
good, actually. There was something about the way he was treating me that made my
heart race every time he glanced my way. It seemed he knew just the thing to
say and do; whether he was behind the camera or not. That natural charm worked
for him in more than one area of life and it made me wonder just how much he
worked at it. He didn’t strike me as the type to play that up, though. Despite
his good lucks, charm, and success, there was something about him that told me
he wasn’t exactly a womanizer. There was a gentleness to his eyes.

“Brad,” I finally
broke the silence with hesitation. “What’s going on?” Even the way he’d
responded to me calling his name gave me more reason to ask the question. There
was a very visible change in his attitude but I couldn’t for the life of me
figure out why. He took a large drink of his cocktail and set the glass down
heavily before leaning forward.

“What do you think
of
me
?” he finally asked me in a
straightforward manner.

I bit my lower lip
and avoided his gaze by looking at the ice swirling in my glass as I moved it
with the red straw. I didn’t know how to respond to his question. Could I
really tell him everything I thought of him? Could I really be so open with
him? It would be awkward and I was too shy for it, no matter how well we got
along.

“I think,” I finally
said before the silence went on too long and created an uncomfortable
situation, “you sure know how to make a great evening out.”

Brad gave a half
smile, “I’ll take it.”

 
He finished his cocktail and asked if I would
like a refill on mine or preferred to try something else. It was a night of
trying new things, so I decided to order a different sweet drink. I took the
minutes he was gone to finish up my cocktail while going over our conversations
in my head. A wide smile took over my face by the time he returned.

“What are you so
happy about?” Brad pretended to look around suspiciously, “Did someone come and
sweep you off your feet while I was gone?” He placed the glasses down.

 
“I’ve
been
off my feet,” I giggled.

Brad scoffed and
sat down. “So you’re saying if you hadn’t been sitting you’d have gotten
carried away by another suitor,” he played with me.

“Maybe,” I teased
before tasting my own cocktail, this one a breezy orange color. “Wow,” I said
aloud, “This one is even more delicious than the last.”

“Tell me your
mystery suitor would do such a fantastic job of picking your drinks, I dare
you,” he challenged, leaning forward to get his face closer to mine.

His breath smelled
faintly of alcohol, but I didn’t find it off putting, not when his handsome
blue eyes were staring me down and his shapely lips were curled into a daring
little smirk. I felt my heart rate pick up once again and a wave of chills washed
over me. I felt a little light headed and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol
or my charming company.

 
He was incredibly attractive and his behavior
now made the reality smack me in the face—I was really
on a date
with him. My breath caught in my throat and I could hear my
pulse in my ears. There was no way I could think of a response now so I settled
for picking up my drink and sipping it slowly while staring into his eyes
defiantly.

It seemed to have
worked. His gaze lowered to my lips and lingered there for a few seconds. His
chest drew in a deep breath before he looked back up at my eyes and slowly
leaned back in his chair, grabbing his drink and stirring it casually. With the
shift in his demeanor came a shift in the music of the bar. The bar lit up with
cool nighttime jazz. It was almost sensual. I watched his lips slowly curl up
in a suggestive smile. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there always
seemed to be something else spinning inside his head at all times.

The crowd around
them grew quieter as the music filled the atmosphere. Now more than ever I felt
like I was really in a movie.

“Well,” Brad
finally broke the silence after finishing his drink, “I’m certainly glad I
edged out the mystery suitor, even if it was just by a bit.” He smirked.

I wondered how
aware he was of the effect he had on me. What sort of effect, if any, did I
have on him; or maybe he was immune to whatever charm
I
had. At the very least there was a definite, mutual attraction
between the two of us and that was enough for me, at least at the moment.

“He was quite the
competitor,” I smiled, “But I don’t know that he could work a camera quite like
you, much less pick the perfect cocktail for me.” My statement was smooth and
it surprised me how easily it rolled off my tongue, despite my nervous tumbling
stomach. I could feel his eyes trailing over my body, taking in every inch of my
skin and slowly peeling away the confident façade I had put up.

The corner of
Brad’s mouth tugged up in a sort-of cocky half-smirk. He leaned forward again
and tapped the table with his fingers.

“So you like the
way I
work
a camera, huh?” It was
impossible to miss the way he had emphasized the word “work” and what the
meaning behind that was. I felt nervous, but excited. I nodded as I sucked down
a little more of my drink. Brad looked around carefully before getting up
abruptly, only to sit on the chair next to mine. He leaned in until I could
feel his hot breath on the lobe of my ear, the sensation made my fingers curl
into the palm of my hand as I suppressed a full-body shudder.

I knew he must
have noticed because he paused, even held his breath, before leaning in a bit
more. My heart was racing and a lump was forming in my throat—I was unsure where
this was headed, but I wanted to find out. “I am
passionate
so that must have a lot to do with it.”

I drew in a sharp
breath. The environment was charged and I was having trouble keeping up. I
swallowed hard before opening my mouth to speak, but only a long, loud exhale
came out. There was a brief moment when I almost turned to look at him but
stopped in the nick of time, remembering just how close his face was to mine. Perhaps
our lips would even brush if I suddenly turned to face him.

 
“That you are,” I finally responded in a
near-whisper, “And being passionate is definitely a good thing.”

“Speaking of
passion,” he told me, “It was my love for photography that pushed me to pursue
another desire of mine. I ended up starting a personal business.” I felt his
hand run through a few strands of my hair and, at that, I could no longer
suppress the urge to shudder that had been building up inside of me. “Amorous
Productions.”

I turned to face
him, unable to contain my shock and confusion. The tips of our noses brushed
slightly and I jerked my head back with a light giggle. “What is that?” I
asked, eyes wide. “Is it…” I trailed off, not sure if I really wanted to know
about Brad making what I could only assume was pornography.

Brad chuckled and
shook his head, “It’s a photography venture.” Still seeing the confusion in my
eyes he clarified, “I love the sculptural beauty of the human body, or the
human form. I want to capture its beauty the way I see it through a medium I
find moving, which is photography. So I opened up this little business to
pursue that.
In secret, of course
.”
The last four words were stern and I knew exactly what he meant by it– Shoot
was clueless about his side business and he was asking me to keep it that way.