CHAPTER SEVEN

 

I woke to the sound of my doorbell ringing. My alarm clock told me it was nine in the morning. I rolled over and stretched. My throat was sore from crying. My eyes felt puffy. I slid out of bed and pulled on my flannel pyjama set. I found my slippers and stepped into them as the doorbell chimed again.

“I’m coming, god damn it.” I muttered.

I hurried down the stairs and unlocked the door.

McCoy was standing before me. His smile faltered when he looked me over and turned into a worried frown. “You alright?”             

Carly had been right. I felt like an idiot. I was wearing the most unflattering set of pyjamas in the history of all pyjamas. My slippers had holes in them. My eyes were most likely swollen and pink from crying. I hadn’t taken off my makeup last night, so I most likely had streaks of mascara on my cheeks.

“Umm, yeah, I’m alright.” I answered. Lies. I desperately wished I hadn’t opened the door. If only I possessed the slightest amount of common sense I could have avoided this embarrassing moment.

McCoy’s mouth twitched and he looked down at his hands. I followed his gaze and realized he was holding a book. “What’s that?” I asked.

He handed it to me. It was a black leather bound book. It was simple and heavier than I expected. I flipped open the cover. A glossy print of a black and white forest coated in frost was tucked into the front page. It was a photo album. I flipped to the second page. Another beautiful photo. I continued to look through them, my mind now completely distracted from how horrible I looked and felt.

There were photos of places I recognized. The park we had walked the day before. The bookstore we had nearly had sex in front of. A side street off of Main Street that was swimming with homeless people. Everything was black and white.

I tore my eyes from the pages and looked up at McCoy. He was watching me. “These are incredible,” I whispered. “You took all of these?”

He nodded.

“McCoy… you’re really talented. People would buy these. People would collect these.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Every time he was flustered or nervous I caught him doing this. I continued. “Why did you decide to show this to me?”

He dropped his hand and took the book from me, tucking it under his arm. “I wanted you to see them. And… and I was hoping you could help me try to make something of them.”

“As in?”

“As in, see if my photos have a place in the market. I don’t know what people would use them for. Magazines, or books, I don’t know.”

“McCoy, this is art. People would hang this on their wall.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “You think?”

“Oh hell yeah I do. They are stunning. I can’t believe you took them all here. How do you see something on the street like that and turn it into something beautiful?”

He shrugged. Flattery was something he clearly was not used to.

“Do you want to come in?” I stood aside and let him step past me.

We went into the kitchen. I took the book from him and went through the images again. I wanted to show my boss. I suspected that if she saw them she would see his talent, and would at the very least have recommendations on where he should send his work. At most, she may want to use his images for cover art. The possibilities were endless.

“Can I bring these to work with me?” I asked. “I want to show my boss. She has connections and she may be able to give us a good starting point.”

“Sure, if you think she can help. Lisa, right?”

I looked up at him. “Yes.” In the years I had been with Jason, he never remembered Lisa’s name. I had worked for her for four years- three of which were during my relationship with Jason. I had spent not even three whole days with McCoy and he knew her name.

“If she could help that would be awesome.” McCoy’s smile made me want to kiss him.

“She’ll help. For sure.” We stood quietly for a moment as I flipped through the pages. McCoy watched me. I could feel his eyes on me. I wanted to shower. I wanted him to leave for an hour and forget what he had seen.

He cleared his throat and leaned on his on the counter. “So, what’s the story?” He asked, gesturing at all of me.

Damn. “Rough night.” I said, hoping he would leave it at that.

“Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He frowned. “I can’t help it.”

I sighed and rested my forehead in my hands. “Okay. I didn’t think you were going to come back. So I may or may not have indulged in a pity party. And it sucked. Okay? It really, really sucked.”

“You thought I would just run off and leave you after everything?”

I bit my bottom lip. “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. I can’t blame you. I should have explained myself a bit better rather than just high tailing it out of here yesterday.” His eyes flicked back and forth between mine. He pushed himself off the counter and looked away from me when he started talking again. “Thing is… I’m really into you, Veronica. It scares me. I haven’t shown anyone my photographs. Not a single person. And with you… I just had to show you.”

“I’m really into you, too.”

He lifted his eyes back to me. “Are we crazy?”

I nodded. “Yes, for sure we are. But that doesn’t change anything. At least, it doesn’t for me. I like your crazy.”

He cocked his head to the side and reached out to caress my cheek. Then I realized he was wiping away mascara and eyeliner from under my eye. He chuckled. “I like your crazy too. Very refreshing.”

I swatted his hand away and he graced me with one of his whole body laughs. I watched him as he threw his head back and held his ribs. Perfection. Pure perfection.