“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never photographed a person for a portrait before.” I juggled the phone as another delivery person came through the door with a receipt for me to sign.
Caroline had surprised me with half ownership in the gallery. Too bad now I was regretting the terms of the agreement as my nerves jangled.
“I’m so glad you admire my work, sir, but I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.” I flagged my mother down. I pressed a hand over my phone and whispered, “It’s really him! I can’t believe it!”
“Then why are you saying no?” my mother asked.
“Because I’m freaking out!” I hissed. It was not every day a world-famous movie icon insisted I take his photograph.
My mother was no help. She just grinned and asked, “Can you believe you ever wanted to be an accountant?”
I flashed a rude gesture at her and almost dropped my phone. “Yes, sir. Wonderful. We’ll talk about it again then.”
“He needs you to balance his books?” Caroline asked.
“You’re no help at all!” I swatted her arm. “And I don’t hear you complaining about all my accounting experience these days.”
My mother surveyed the gallery and nodded. “I suppose your way with money has helped out a bit.”
“A bit?”
She patted my cheek. “Oh, my darling, when are you ever going to admit you have real talent? This wasn’t your money-management skills. Your passion did this.”
I stood for a minute and allowed myself a little breathless swell of pride. An event crew was swarming all over the gallery: putting up display walls, setting up a bar, and arranging flowers. The catalog and commercial work I did freelance had been enough to pay all our bills. And when the landlord found out the popularity of my photography, plus my connection to Storm’s big album, he decided we could stay indefinitely.
My mother’s classes were full again, and her online presence almost eclipsed both myself and Storm. She was an Internet sensation, and I snapped a few shots of the set-up with her phone for the social media world to devour.
“Are you sure it’s not too much?” I asked. My moment of confidence was flagging, and nerves set back in.
Caroline grinned. “I happen to know for a fact it’s not too much. Our accountant made me go over every expense twice.”
I rolled my eyes, then reminded myself, “The price of the tickets already paid for the event.”
I marched over to the pristine white display walls and hung my first photograph. It was impossible to decide which image should greet guests as they entered the gallery. I tried another one and then two more before I returned to my original choice and stood back.
My mother whisked by, placed more flowers on the table next to the guest book, and promptly took the photograph down. I watched, arms crossed tightly, as she rearranged the entire collection.
“It’d be easier to appreciate your keen eye if you weren’t my mother,” I told her.
Caroline laughed. “No thanks needed. Just go and get changed before people arrive.”
I slipped into her small bathroom and took one look at my fancy dress before I had to grip the sink and catch my breath. “You are not panicking,” I told my reflection in the mirror.
It was my first gallery show, and art critics were climbing over each other to judge my work first. Not to mention the residents of Murtaugh. They’d all received free tickets, and I was worried what everyone would think. It didn’t matter that I had been assured a hundred times before that my talent was apparent. If my friends and neighbors didn’t like my work, I didn’t know what I would do.
Now I finally understood what had kept Storm reclusive for so long. The thought of everyone judging me wasn’t the worst part. Sharing my heart and knowing full well it might be rejected took everything I had.
Then I thought of Storm.
Suddenly, it was easy to slide the satin cocktail dress off the hanger. I slipped it on and pretended the shapely contours were armor. My spiky heels were weapons, and my flashing earrings were good luck charms to ward off the overrated opinions of others.
Besides, Storm loved my work, he loved me, and nothing else mattered.
I emerged from the tiny bathroom, confident and unflappable, and then immediately squawked. “What’s with all the photographers!”
My mother caught my arm before I could retreat into the bathroom. “You’re the photographer, darling. They are considered paparazzi.”
“You,” I hissed. “You tipped them off!”
“I figured why not use the press when it suited us?” my mother said.
“But what if Storm sees all those lenses and decides to turn right back around?” I couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be here.”
Susie Q flew into the room. “Speaking of here, everyone is here! Guests are lined up and cameras are flashing. Ready to make your debut?”
My mother and Susie Q both grabbed an arm and dragged me into the gallery. I was grateful for them as a sea of people immediately turned to me and started asking questions.
“How long have you known Storm Morris? All your life?” a guest with thick glasses asked.
Susie Q brushed him aside with a flirty smile. “A woman doesn’t talk about her age.”
My mother deftly handled the next intense couple who really wanted me to photograph their grandmother’s crochet collection. I hung on and let my two spotlight lovers steer me around the room. I could never admit it, but I had fun meeting all the new admiring faces and listening to the easy, charming patter of my companions.
“Now there, you made it.” My mother deposited me in a safe corner and handed me a drink.
“That was just round one,” Susie Q warned with an excited smile.
I groaned behind my polite, fixed smile. “Please tell me I can run away and hide soon.”
Caroline laughed. “Take a breath and see how many friends you have in this place.”
I wanted to take her advice, but my breath wouldn’t slow down. I was searching and worrying, and then there was a surge in flashing cameras. Voices rose to a fever pitch, and my heart felt like it might explode.
Storm pushed his way through the front door of the gallery, his face a reflection of the gratitude and discomfort that I felt. He thanked people left and right and kept a smile pasted on his face that only faded into a relieved sigh when he saw me. There was still a tight pack of twenty or so guests between us, but one look was enough.
“Better?” my mother asked with a knowing smile.
“Yes, but now where’s your escort?” I asked.
Susie Q had rushed off and flung herself into Tyson’s arms, but my mother’s eyes just twinkled. Then she waved over my shoulder at a handsome man in a pale suit.
“He’s Italian,” she said. “Maybe a count or something.”
“Have fun,” I told my mother.
Storm caught my attention again and hitched his head toward the back. If he joined me, we would be trapped in the corner the rest of the night. I quickly wove through the crowd and joined him near the back door.
“Tyson made me swear I’d stay for twenty minutes. The countdown has begun,” Storm said.
“Please take me with you,” I joked.
Then Storm forgot about all the curious eyes and the hungry lens of the paparazzi pointing through the front window. He leaned down and kissed me long and slow.
“Congratulations on your show. Now, do you believe you have talent?” He wrapped an arm around me and grinned.
I leaned on him and turned my head away from the bright flashing cameras. “Wasn’t the whole point of the webpage so we could keep our privacy?”
“What can you do? You’re the next big thing,” Storm said.
“Hey, write that down, it’s a good song title,” I quipped.
Storm laughed, and the cameras flickered again and again, but I was safe, shielded by his broad shoulders. “Bet you’d get a better picture than any of those vultures.”
I shook my head. “You know what I’ve been wanting to photograph? There are buds on the trees in your orchard.”
“You are a hopeless celebrity, and I love you,” Storm whispered in my ear.
“Now, none of that. What is the press going to think?” Tyson strode up with his arm around Susie Q.
She squealed. “Maybe wedding bells?”
We all shushed her and then laughed. As if half the world hadn’t already laid bets on when Storm and I were getting married. There had even been a doctored photograph of us making the rounds of the Internet with a badly Photo-shopped veil on my head.
“What about you?” I asked. “Aren’t you two eloping one of these days?”
“Elope? No way. My wedding’s going to be a grand affair. We’re going to turn the whole mansion upside down,” Tyson said.
“We are?” Susie Q’s eyes went dreamy, and her voice faded to a joyful whisper. “When?”
“Whenever you want, my love,” Tyson said.
They kissed and cooed over each other and delighted in doing everything Storm and I couldn’t without causing a riot of interest.
“Look, there’s Rick,” Storm said. “The only one more uncomfortable than us.”
Poor Rick had given in to Susie Q’s stylist’s suggestions. He was decked out in a dark suit and mirrored sunglasses. His thinning hair was slicked back and the only item of clothing that was recognizably his was a pair of dirty high-top Converse.
He waved but a group of vinyl album enthusiasts pulled him aside. Rick was now something of a guru in the world of record collecting and online selling. Still, he lifted his sunglasses and sent me a goofy, congratulatory wink.
“I thought he was coming with Bobby.” Storm frowned and craned his head over the crowd.
“There he is.” I pointed out our chill friend as he shuffled past the front windows.
Storm let out a low whistle. “The man is amazing.”
“You mean, she’s amazing.” We both giggled as the guests parted to let Bobby sail in with a supermodel on his arm.
“And your mother seems happy, too,” Storm pointed out.
Caroline was laughing and if the Italian’s wide, appreciative eyes were any indication, she had a new patron. He pressed a hand to his heart and watched her raptly.
“So, that means we can slip out, right?” I whispered.
“I thought you would never ask.” Storm laced my fingers through his, and we started to shimmy open the back door. Then he paused. “But this is your big night?”
I shook my head and surprised him with a kiss. “My big night was months ago.”
“The night we met?” Storm asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s what started all of this.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. It was probably the night you got fired.”
“You know, you’re a big star again but I can still kick you out. This is my show, you know.” I shoved his chest.
Storm caught both my hands and kissed them. “I don’t care when this started. I just don’t want it to end.”
I sighed and snuggled closer, forgetting the room full of guests behind us. “You talk as if we’re leaving tomorrow. Look around. You know what this is, right?”
“Crowded?” Storm asked.
I had to laugh as we got jostled by cater-waiters. “You’re right. I’m pretty sure Caroline likes living by herself again.”
Storm pulled me out into the gallery’s small backyard, and we looked at the art opening through the wide windows. “So, what is this place?” Storm asked.
I wrapped my arms around him. “It’s a starting place.”
“Then I’m glad I’m here with you.” Storm turned to face me and held both my hands. “Because I never want to go, or stay, anywhere without you ever again.”
There were thousands of rumors on the Internet the next day but not a single photograph. Guests recounted us holding hands and speaking privately and fans everywhere hoped for a wedding announcement. We didn’t know for two weeks that the world had decided our fate.
We never told anyone but our closest friends and family the promises we made to each other that night. Everyone took our story from there, and we went home to live very happy lives together.
Dear Reader,
Thank you SO MUCH for downloading and reading my latest release, Legend. As a bonus, I’ve include two more of my bestselling books for you to read. I’ve also included some important information in the backmatter of this book which explains how you can receive early releases and advance copies of my new books before they are available for sale. Please check that out!
Thanks again for being a reader!
Hugs!
Ellie