Holding Her Breath (Indigo) (17 page)

The air was sharp, cold, crisp. The sky was clear—completely cloudless. The stars weren’t completely drowned out by the city lights that night.

“How long have you been here?” Whitney looked down at her watch. It was past nine.

Chace shrugged. “A little while.”

She shivered and pulled her overcoat tighter. “I usually work late. I would have told you that if you’d called so you wouldn’t have to just sit out here.”

“I know. Rob told me that. I was just wandering around the city. And I ended up on the metro. Then I ended up here.”

“Okay,” she said. Chace seemed different and to have had just as bad a day as she had. Maybe the reality of the breakup was settling in on him.

“Yeah. I know you’re probably tired and everything. I just wanted to see you. I can go if you want,” Chace said, standing and shoving his hands into the pockets of his fleece jacket. For the first time, Whitney noticed a camera on the steps near where he’d been sitting. He stooped to pick it up.

“You were taking pictures today?”

“Yeah.” He turned his camera over a few times in his hands.

She smiled. “Come on up for a while.” She took out her keys and headed for the door to her building.

Finally, her favorite grin came out and spread across his face. “Okay.” He jogged up the steps behind her.

They went up to her condo and the first thing Chace did was take off his shoes and socks—shockingly, he must have thought it too cold for flip-flops. Which was good. She didn’t want him getting frostbite. He sank his toes into the carpet.

“Man, I really love this carpet.”

“It’s okay.” She stifled a yawn. The effects of her long day were catching up with her quickly. “Listen, I was gonna order some dinner. You want something?”

“Why don’t we go out to eat? That is, if you’re not too tired?”

She looked at him and smiled. She was tired and aching and she’d really just wanted to stuff down some dinner, take another look at some cases she’d had the paralegals pull for her, and crash. At least that was what she wanted until she saw Chace. Looking at his bright, eager face, so different from the dark look he’d worn when she’d first walked up to him in front of her building, she really did want to go out with him.

“Sure. Let me just change out of this suit,” Whitney said.

“Great,” Chace said, sitting down on her couch. She handed him the remote to the television, which she’d left on the bar that morning, and then went to her room to change.

Once Whitney was dressed and ready, she drove them out to her favorite restaurant in Georgetown. The place was a cozy little café she loved. And it was reasonably priced enough so that she wouldn’t feel too badly if Chace wouldn’t let her pay for him.

Once they were seated, the server brought them plates of bread and olive oil.

“This place is nice. Very…Frenchy,” Chace said as he looked around the small European-style café.

She dipped her bread into the oil. “I love this place. You will, too. Just wait until you have the soup.” She hummed along with the Edith Piaf song that was playing.

“Which one?”

“Any. It doesn’t matter. They’ll all make you beg for more.”

“I’ll bet.”

The way he said it was probably innocent enough. Her lecherous mind was most likely responsible for making her hear it in a way that was not. When she looked up, Chace was looking down at his menu. Yes, just her imagination.

“How’s the job hunt going?” Whitney put her menu aside. She already knew she wanted the quiche of the day and a salad. She wanted to keep it light that late at night.

“Um, okay, I guess. I’m going to go by some places tomorrow. Drop off some résumés, applications. I just sent a few emails and made a few calls today. I figure in-person would be a better bet.”

Whitney nodded. It probably was. Who wouldn’t hire Chace on the spot? Attractive. Friendly. Charming.

“How was your day at work?”

“The first few days back after vacation playing catch-up are never fun.” She didn’t want to get into the Kim drama. She wanted to forget it herself. “You settling into the apartment okay?”

“Yeah. Living with Rob is the ultimate,” he said. “It’s like there are two of me. We’re going to get some stuff for the apartment this weekend.”

“That should be a disaster.” She laughed, picturing the sight.

“Funny you should say that. ’Cause I’m planning on trapping you into going with us.”

“You are?”

“Sure. You can’t trust two guys with these things. You just said so yourself. That is…if you don’t have to work?”

“I can probably squeeze you in for a few hours.” A smile played across her lips as her eyes connected with his light blue ones. He dipped his bread into the oil. Then, he reached across the table and teased it across her lower lip.

“Any time I can be squeezed in with you? Is a good time,” Chace said. There was no denying the heat in his words that time. He slid the bread between her teeth.

When Whitney realized she’d picked the menu up and was fanning herself with it, she put it down immediately and started looking out over the tables, muttering about wondering where their server was. She felt Chace’s stare, but refused to look at him.

After dinner they drifted in and out of bars for hours, mostly just talking. She had a drink or two. They stayed out too late, but she barely noticed the time passing. When the bars closed, they headed back to her condo. She had so much fun with him, she didn’t even know how it’d gotten to be nearly three in the morning while they were talking on her couch.

“You could stay the night on the couch,” Whitney offered. “The Metro isn’t running any longer and sometimes cabbies get cranky about going into the District from here.”

“I’ll be okay. I really don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to spend the night here. Too much temptation.” The way he said the word “temptation” sent shivers all over her body. Her mind went back to their New Year’s Eve kiss and suddenly, with every part of her hot for him, she didn’t think it was a good idea, either.

“At least let me call a cab before you go downstairs.”

“Sure thing. Thanks.”

“I had a really great time tonight, Chace. Thanks for coming over. I’m glad you did.” She picked up her phone.

“I’m glad you’re glad.” Chace brushed a kiss against her cheek.

She looked at him, having to hold herself back from jumping all over him. She tightened her grip on the phone to keep from dropping it.

“The best,” he said, brushing his hand against her cheek.

“Well, I, uh, better call that cab. It’s getting late.” The words were awkward, clumsy. Because they weren’t what she wanted to say. She wanted him to stay. With her. And not on the couch. And that wasn’t the kind of thought she should have been having. He was rebounding.

She was already messing up at work and didn’t need any further distractions. All she’d wanted in life was to get with a huge law firm and be successful. So close to partner, she couldn’t screw up now. She owed it to herself, her mom, and even her grandparents. She had to be everything her father hadn’t been. That was the only way to make his mistakes less hard for all of them. She had a lot of broken hearts to mend. She didn’t need Chace interfering, messing with hers. Clouding her mission.

“Yeah.” Chace nodded, looking down at the phone in her hand before repeating himself. “Yeah.”

When the uncomfortable silence had gone on for too long, Whitney said, “I’m going to get a glass of water after I make this call. You want anything?” He looked at her with greedy eyes, and her face roasted for what felt like the millionth time that night. “From the kitchen, I mean?”

He shook his head.

She went to the refrigerator, arranging for the cab as she did. She put down the phone and grabbed the water pitcher with a shaking hand, nerves and hormones raging inside of her.

“Whitney?” he called into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Her voice quavered despite her efforts to make it not do that.

“Would it have been different? If there was no Kelly? Would there still be this—uh—distance between us? Making us not able to get to the thing I think we both want?”

Whitney pretended not to hear his question, but she did let out a soft curse when she realized she’d overfilled her water glass and water was spilling onto her black, sable, and gray marble countertop.

* * *

The next morning Whitney refused to believe that her alarm clock said ten o’clock when she rolled over and looked at it. She was sure she’d set her alarm the night before. She must have turned it off and gone back to sleep without realizing she’d ever done it. She hadn’t done that in ages.

“Crap,” Whitney muttered, jumping out of bed. “Kim already hates me. This is not going to go over well.”

She’d meant to get up early that morning and read over some stuff she’d put off reading the night before when she’d gone to bed. Instead, she’d done the exact opposite. Even if she drove into the city instead of taking the train, she was still going to be really late. Still, she’d save a little bit of time. Maybe Kim would give her a chance to explain instead of killing her on the spot.

Whitney undressed while talking to her assistant on speakerphone, telling her she’d be in as soon as she could be. She then took a shower and got ready faster than she ever had in her life, almost leaving her condo without tossing her work shoes—a pair of black pumps—into her bag, she was so distracted.

She got into her car, juggling her coffee thermos, laptop bag, a briefcase full of papers, and her purse. And made it to the office in record time.

Still, when she got to her desk, she could tell it was going to be bad. Even before Bettina gave her the message from Kim written on a memo pad sheet in red ink:
Come to my office as soon as you get in. Urgent
.

* * *

Chace opened the package at the post office, too excited to wait until he got home. His grin widened as he turned the camera over and over in his hands. Again, Ebay hadn’t failed him. This was the third camera he’d ordered in a week, and he hoped his credit card would keep supporting him for the next few weeks.

The Nikon F6 was a beauty. He hadn’t been able to resist at least one film camera even though the digitals he’d ordered would probably give him better shots. Film cameras were his weakness. There was nothing like developing a black and white photo in a darkroom. It was almost a spiritual experience.

He loved everything about photography. From the feel of the camera in his hands to looking through the viewfinder to the silent solace of the dark room. Finding the perfect subject. Light and perspective. The way those two things could come together in a breathtaking instant without any warning and you’d better have a camera ready when they did. Because it wouldn’t last for long and there was a certain thrill in that.

He still needed to get some lenses, and he was about to bid on a couple he was watching online. He didn’t like to start bidding too many days before the end of the bid period. Still, he’d decided to stop by a nearby camera store he’d noticed and have a look. He liked holding them in his hands, getting a visceral feel for them.

Entering the small camera store near the post office, he noticed he was one of only two customers at the moment. He walked right over to the Single Lens Reflex, or S.L.R., and Digital Single-Lens Reflex, or D.S.L.R., lenses since the digital camera he’d gotten the other day would work with the D.S.L.R.’s. He gave a low whistle when he saw the price and was once again thankful for online auctioning.

He knew he was spending way too much and hoped he wouldn’t go through his savings and credit before he got his first paycheck from his new job, but he couldn’t help it. He’d just gotten hired at a small catering business. It’d been started by a woman who used to work at the Hawk and Dove.

He was obsessed with photography, especially now that he was someplace where his dream could actually come true. And he had someone in his life who inspired him so much. Whitney was his muse without even knowing it. She just made him see the world in ways he could have never imagined without her.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” A balding, fortyish man walked up to him. His stomach protruded over the waist of his pants and he waddled a little when he walked.

“I was just looking at lenses. Just got some new cameras.” Chace patted the box he carried under his arm that contained his camera.

“Have anything in particular in mind?”

“I like this Nikon wide angle, but I’m trying to decide if I should get the rectilinear or the full-frame or the four-thirds. I mean, I want them both eventually, but there’s the money thing to consider, you know? Then, there’s length to consider.” Chace frowned. “I’m probably going to need a better computer, too. This is getting really expensive really quickly.”

“You a photographer?” he asked.

“I’m trying to be,” Chace said. “I’m Chace, by the way.”

“Archie,” the man said, his moustache moving up with his smile.

“Well, Archie, I’ve been thinking of going professional for a while, and I’m ready to give it a real try now,” he said. “I was thinking of trying to put together something to show a gallery maybe.”