Chapter 11
Beth
I have my tripod set up with my phone camera open and am waiting for Matthew to get here. After Travis’s suggestion last week, I pulled together some sample couple photos and funny trend ideas to break up the serious content.
He griped about it when I texted him yesterday, but secretly, I think he’ll have fun.
I’ve practically avoided him for the last two days, trying to remind myself that Matthew Wilkes is a client. A client who happens to look incredibly kissable under the Florida sun and has the ability to make my heart dance with the slightest gaze. Nonetheless, a client.
But it’s not working. Those pesky feeling creatures are taking over and consuming every fiber in me. I’m the one who made up the rules; I can’t just start breaking them! I have to pull myself together, especially today. I’ll get lost in the creative process of pictures and videos, and I’ll be fine…right?
There’s a knock on my hotel room door, and I take a deep breath before answering it.
Matthew stands on the other side, a boyish grin plastered on his face and a navy blue polo hugging his broad shoulders. He’s holding a cup holder with two coffees and a brown paper bag.
“Caramel latte, as requested.”
“Smart man.” I take it from his hands and let him walk in. “Ready for a full day of content-making?” I ask cheerfully.
He groans as he drags his feet.
“Oh, come on, grumpy. It’s for your fans, like Sally Jo,” I tease.
Matthew turns his head slowly. “Seriously?” he asks, throwing a skeptical side-eye glance my way.
I bite my lip, concealing a laugh, and move on to the task at hand. “So we need some shots of us looking like a real couple who’s in love, or deeply in like, at least.” I nervously grin.
“Just tell me what you want me to do,” Matthew says begrudgingly.
I explain a few of my ideas and how I want him to pose. I get a few of him by himself (never can have too many of those), and then I set up for our couple shots.
“Stand here and put your arm around me, like this.” I show him a sample photo on my tablet.
I lean in next to him as he wraps his arm around my shoulder.
“Like this?”
My face starts to feel hot, and my heartbeat picks up speed at the warmth of his arm. “Mhm.” I press the button on my wireless remote to capture a few photos.
“Okay, next pose.” I flip to my next inspiration picture of a guy standing behind the girl with both arms around her. “I’ll do a video of this one too, just move naturally.”
“Naturally…right. Like any of this is natural.” His tone is lighthearted, but there’s something underneath it.
“Okay, just sway a bit to create some movement…And now, look at me.”
His eyes shift down to meet mine, and suddenly, I feel all the air sucked out of the room. His gaze is intense, yet soft. It’s like he’s looking right into my soul.
“Next!” I manage to choke out only one word. I scroll through the sample images, but each one just seems more intimate than the last one. “Let’s do some candids.”
“Candy?”
“Can-did, Matthew.” I laugh, readjusting my phone on the tripod. “It means natural, unposed. Like you’re not even aware of the camera.”
“I’m very much aware of the camera.” I roll my eyes at him. “Plus, candy sounds more delicious.”
“Just be yourself,” I remind him as I press the record button and come to stand next to him.
“Like this?” he asks as he pulls a ridiculous face.
“Matthew!” I swat at his shoulder, laughing.
He pulls me in and then twirls me around. His silliness is infectious. He spins me out, then pulls me back in, our bodies colliding. I yelp as we both collapse onto the floor in a fit of laughter.
As our laughter slows down, I become aware of our position. His arm is wrapped around my back, my hand on his chest, our faces inches apart. I can feel his heart pounding as his eyes intensely bore into mine.
“Beth…” he whispers, his warm breath fanning my face.
My eyes flit down to his lips, then back up to meet his gaze again.
“I…” he begins.
“Yeah, I think we got it,” I say, quickly getting up to check the photos.
As I silently scroll through them, I can feel his eyes burning into my back.
What just happened?
“All good?” Matthew asks, his voice layered with what sounds like the same sense of confusion I’m having.
“They’re perfect,” I reply quickly. “See?” I turn the phone around to show him, a smile plastered on my face.
I show him one where we’re laughing together, his arm slung around my shoulder. It’s a good photo. A great one, actually. So great it almost makes me forget about boundaries and professionalism.
He studies the picture. “That looks…really good.” His hand brushes mine as he takes the phone from me to get a closer look, sending electricity up my arm.
“Good.” I snatch the phone back. “Time for some trends.”
“Desiii,” I whine into my phone, flopping onto the hotel bed. “I think I’m in trouble.”
Desi’s laugh crackles through the speaker. “Tell me what happened.”
“Matthew happened,” I groan, running a hand through my hair.
“Girl, you gotta give me more than that.”
I sigh, clutching the pillow to my chest. “We were taking photos, you know, for his social media content.” I pause, replaying today’s events. “And things got…intense.”
“Oh? Do tell,” she responds, her voice brimming with intrigue.
“Like, there was chemistry. Real chemistry. And we looked like a real…”
“Real what?” Desi asks, pushing me to continue.
“A real couple.” The words hang in the air, thick and heavy.
Desi lets out a low whistle. “Well, well, well.”
“I mean, it’s not like anything happened, but when he looked at me…” My voice trails off. “But he’s my client, and the most we can be is friends.”
“Friends, nor clients, don’t look at each other like starving people eye a double cheeseburger, Beth,” she says matter-of-factly.
“I know,” I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “But we have a contract—professionally and personally. One specifically states ‘no feelings.’ And even if we didn’t, we work together.”
“Coworkers-to-lovers is my favorite romance trope. And sometimes rules are meant to be broken,” Desi suggests, a hint of mischief in her voice.
“Desi!”
“Just saying.” She chuckles, her laugh a soothing salve to my spinning thoughts. “He might be worth the risk, though.”
“You know I’m not one to take a risk.”
“Look at what you’ve done over the last few months. You left your hometown, which you had just gotten back to, to travel with some guy you just met to pursue your dream job. I’d say that’s a risk-taker.” She pauses, and when I don’t respond she continues, “But you don’t have to decide anything right now. Give it some time, let it simmer, and see where things go.”
A knock at my door interrupts our conversation. “Hold on, I think it’s room service,” I tell Desi before clambering off the bed and rushing to answer the door.
A fiery red-haired woman is standing there with a clothing rack full of garment bags and fancy boxes.
“Hello! I’m Nina, your personal stylist. You must be Beth?”
“I am, but—”
“I was sent by Matthew Wilkes to find you the perfect attire for the gala. I have dresses and accessories for you to try on.”
“Matthew did this?” I mutter as she breezes past me into the room.
“Did what?” Desi’s voice rings through my phone.
“Um, Desi, Matthew sent a stylist over for tomorrow’s gala.”
She lets out a high pitched squeal on the other end. “No way! What? Send me pictures! Have fun!”
The phone disconnects, and I stand there, still processing what’s happening. Nina begins unzipping the garment bags, revealing stunning dresses of all kinds—sequined, satin, flowing chiffon—each one more breathtaking than the last.
“Wow, they’re beautiful.”
“Mr. Wilkes certainly didn’t skimp on the budget either.” Nina pulls out a stunning royal blue dress with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt. “Let’s get started.”
I admire it as she ushers me into the en-suite bathroom to change. When I emerge from the bathroom, I hear Nina gasp.
“Oh, darling! You look wonderful!” Her eyes sparkle with approval.
“Really?” I ask, glancing down at myself.
“Absolutely. But see for yourself.”
I stand in front of the mirror, taken aback by my reflection. It hugs me in all the right places, making me feel beautiful.
“Alright.” Nina claps her hands together. “Next dress!”
Nina’s enthusiasm immediately puts me at ease, and her expertise helps to streamline the process. Over the next half hour, discarded dress options and shoes litter the floor, like a fashion bomb exploded in here.
With every gown I try on, there’s a new accessory to pair it with and different hairstyles and makeup ideas to consider. I can’t deny that it’s fun, even if it does feel a bit overwhelming. It’s like playing dress-up on a grander scale.
I step into the last dress, the one I’ve anticipated trying on since I laid eyes on it, and come out of the bathroom.
Nina’s expression tells me all I need to know. This is the dress.