Picture Perfect (29 page)

I sighed. “Thank God for that. Now I know how celebrities feel. I don’t see how anyone could keep their cool waking up to phone calls and cameramen and snotty reporters twenty-four seven.”

He smiled, the expression somber and tight. I didn’t like seeing him sad, so I said, “My lawyer says Curtis’s ex-wife contacted him. She wants to testify… He said she told him everything, how her husband abused her long before raping her.”

Devin’s face contorted with disgust and rage. “Come mid-June, that sick prick is hopefully going to get a very long prison sentence with no bail.”

“That’s what we’re pushing for,” I murmured, “along with a hefty lawsuit for monetary compensation.”

“I hope you girls clean him out. If he’s bankrupt, he won’t have any way to run his club and attract more women to victimize. He’s too dangerous.”

I pressed my lips together, silently agreeing. Talking about Curtis brought on the dull ache of helplessness, the feeling that I wasn’t good or strong enough to make it. “You ready to graduate on Saturday?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

He blew out a breath. “Yeah. No. Hell, I don’t know. I guess it’s coming one way or another, so I’m as ready as I’m going to be. On to the future and a career and all that shit.” He looked at me and smiled, the gesture warming his whole face. “That I’m looking forward to
- the future, that is.”

I smiled back, holding his gaze, feeling exactly the same.

“Speaking of the future, I heard about your scholarship,” he said. “Congrats.”

“Thanks,” I said, arching a brow. “How’d you hear about that?”

“Well, Tam told Erik, who told me. You know how it goes.”

We turned a corner and began walking down an equally massive hallway. Up ahead, the hall opened up into a showroom. Bright white lights spilled onto the floor, the reflection of something red and huge staining the marble.

“Apparently the committee thought my standing up to Curtis and speaking out about my experience was heroic. They didn’t even mention my job.” My shoulders knotted with tension as I thought of the upcoming month’s bills. “Now I just have to find another job. I’ve been looking since the trial but haven’t had much luck.”

“I think I can help with that.”

“Oh, really?” I said coyly. “How?”

His eyes sparkled as we stopped at the edge of the showroom. “Because I had at least ten photographers and two heads of modeling agencies inquire about you today, asking if you were available for work. I took down their contact info and said I’d run it by you, and you’d be in touch if you were interested.”

“Really?” My heart quivered with hope. “They really liked me?”

“Nah,
like
is too weak for it.
Fucking loved you
is more like it.”

I stared at the floor, wondering if maybe Devin touched up my photos. Then my eyes trailed up to the source of the red light on the wall, and I forgot how to breathe.

Devin

I watched her expression change from fear to hope to awe as she walked into the pool of light, her eyes fixed on my collage. It took up most of the wall, hanging beneath a rod of blue and red spotlights that accented key parts of the piece. Every photo of her, of us, had been shrunken to form a larger picture of us caught in love’s embrace, her hands on my neck, our mouths barely apart.

“I call it
Passion
,” I said, coming to stand behind her. I was surprised my voice sounded that steady. Inside, I was unraveling. What if she didn’t like it?

“You won Best of Show,
” she said.

I stared at the gaudy blue ribbon hanging next to the piece’s information plaque. I didn’t care about the damn ribbon, or the one thousand dollar prize that came with it. I’d give it to her anyway because she needed it. All I cared about was pleasing her. “Do you like it?” I finally asked.

I held my breath, waiting. She didn’t say anything.

My shoulders sank. She loathed it, hated it so much she was speechless. Her shoulders shook, and I braced myself as I walked around in front of her. Tears were streaming down her face as she stared at the collage. Even when I was standing directly in front of her, she didn’t see me. Finally, her eyes dropped
to mine and she smiled.

“I think it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, cupping my cheek.

I reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling her in close. “Well, I heard the photographer became entranced by the model he hired.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale.”

The corner of my mouth tilted up. “I can’t promise forever, or that this will always be easy. It’s wonderful and messy and it scares the shit out of me. But I know I love you and I want you, and I don’t want to spend another day of my life without you beside me.”

“It scares me too.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and smiled. “But that’s okay, because I think this is kind of perfect.”

I leaned in and kissed her, the feelings inside me coming through in the passion with which my mouth sought hers. Deep inside, I felt myself coming together, my soul finding what it had been craving this past year.

Happiness.

With her, I was home.

THE END

Works by Camille Dixon

Picture Perfect

NEW HAVEN HOPE

Every Last Breath
(coming summer 2013)

About Camille

I'm a Southern girl who's spent the last few years freezing my toosh off up north. Except for the snow, things are pretty good. I love sunshine, sweet tea, and romances that touch my heart. A lifelong romantic, I found my own prince charming at an online dating site. Six months later, he asked me to marry him.
Picture Perfect
is my debut novel.

Find me on the web

http://camilledixonbooks.blogspot.com

facebook.com/camilledixonbooks

goodreads.com/camilledixonbooks

twitter.com/camdixonbooks

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Acknowledgements

Thank you to the lovely ladies who took time out of their schedules to help make
Picture Perfect
a better story – Mary Fran, Rachel, Tinley, and Penelope. And thank you to my fiancé for encouraging me. I love you.