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When I bought my first camera at ten years old, I never thought I would be making money taking pictures. To me, it was the simplest of things: angling a shot, perfecting the lighting, pressing a button. I loved capturing that moment in time, always to be remembered. I captured joy and bitterness, heartbreak and excitement. I captured tragedy and happiness.  People trusted me with their moments, their treasures, their personal feelings, thoughts, and values. It was a responsibility I took seriously, a moment I was privileged to be part of.

I took pictures at weddings, birthdays, maternity shoots, birth shoots, important dates shoots, and, on rare occasions, boudoir shoots. I took pictures of animals, nature, and houses.

This, however, was the first time I was going to do a photo shoot for a bar. I had my Nikon D3400 strapped around my neck. I always wore it like a wedding ring. I was meeting with brothers named Max and Bodhi Rogers at their bar for our initial discussion. I already had concepts I intended to share with them in case they asked, but usually concepts weren’t required until my second meeting. In their case, it sounded like they wanted to rush this, which I could work with.

I knew where the bar was located. It had been an abandoned space for such a long time, I was looking forward to it being a bar. We needed one of those in Westport.

The place was practically finished, with opening night scheduled for three weeks exactly, which meant I needed to take beautiful, captivating photos for their media kit and website in a timely fashion without making it obvious that they were rushed. A tall order, but one I knew I could fulfill.

The door was open, but I still knocked and waited. I stepped back and glanced around. It was a bright, beautiful day in May. I loved the weather this time of year: bright, but still cool enough for a jacket. It also resulted in the best photos of the ocean.

There were a few locals walking up the boardwalk. It wasn’t as busy as it usually was only because it was Wednesday at noon. Everyone was at work still.

My stomach growled, reminding me it was also lunchtime.

When no one answered, I decided to take a chance and step inside. It could have been perceived as rude but I had knocked and I hadn’t gotten a response, and in the entire ten years I had been doing this, I had never been late to a meeting and I didn’t intend to start now.

“Hello,” I called. My voice bounced on the walls. The smooth oak of the bar caught my eyes and the floor underneath my feet was sturdy.

I didn’t know much about design and construction, but this had Will Treadway written all over it. That man had an eye for design and the ability to make them happen. No wonder Beatrice had gotten married to him as quickly as possible. Truth be told, I didn’t think he’d ever get married after Megyn. I didn’t think anyone expected him to. It had been a couple of months since news broke out - especially in a sleepy beach town - but it spread like a disease and everyone had their opinion.

It wasn’t my business. If he was happy, I was happy for him. Not that we were friends, exactly, but there was a mutual respect between us.

“Excuse me?” A voice spoke from behind me.

I will admit that I jumped, but I adamantly deny that I let out a squeak in surprise. When I turned to see who addressed me, my mouth dropped open.

The woman was gorgeous. Tall, slender, piercing blue eyes, chopped blonde hair. I could tell she was older, more mature. Completely out of my league. And she looked straight through me, like I was a fly buzzing around in her vicinity. I was something she wanted to swat and she was someone I wanted to get closer to, and I didn’t even know her.

This wasn’t Victoria. I knew Victoria. I had photographed houses for her on and off to post on her website. She was the one who recommended me for this gig.

Victoria was redheaded, curvy, and petite. This woman was blonde, statuesque, and fit.

“Who are you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her weight on her left hip. She had on a forest green bomber jack and navy blue skinny jeans, her feet in black stiletto boots. She was already tall, judging by her mile-high legs, but she wasn’t afraid to be even taller, which I found incredibly attractive. And here I was in a plain white T-shirt and jeans like some asshole.

“I, uh.” I cleared my throat. Now was not the time to lose my nerve. I picked up my camera, still hanging from my neck, and tipped it in her direction. “Photos. Me. I take them.”

“Are you a caveman as well?” she asked, a small but amused smile on her face.

I felt my face turn red and I reached up to rub the back of my neck, obviously embarrassed. “I am typically a lot more coherent,” I told her.

That made her smile but more. I felt my heart quicken and I gave myself an internal high five. She didn’t seem as though she impressed easily, so knowing I was able to make her smile was a win in my book.

“Alex,” I said. I was too far away from her to shake her hand, but I wished I was closer. I wanted to feel her skin against mine.

She waited a moment, accepting my introduction. “Charlie,” she replied.

Charlie. It suited her.

“So,” I murmured, dropping my hand and sliding both of them into my jean pockets. I wanted to ask her what she did, but I felt the question would sound rude.

“Alex?”

Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about it. That was Victoria. I would recognize her voice anywhere. “Sorry, I knocked and let myself in,” I told her.

Victoria gave me a smile. “This way,” she said, waving me over. “I want you to meet Max and Bodhi.”