12. Monday
MONDAY
In the morning, she woke up to see that Ren was sleeping in the other bed.
He looked tired, she thought, which made sense after he had stayed up checking out locations almost until dawn.
He looked scruffy, unshaven, his hand pushed against his face.
He was not an elven prince this morning; he looked reassuringly real.
She let herself watch him for a long moment before she forced herself to get up.
There was a message on her phone from Owen: “I confirmed that you cannot take vacation without more notice. If you do not return to the office today, we will have to let you go.”
Sarah leaned against the wall for a moment, considering what to do.
She suspected that Owen hadn’t had time to ask anyone about firing her.
This felt like an executive decision coming from him.
She was blowing up her life, and it didn’t feel like that big of a problem.
Why didn’t it feel like a problem? She let out a delirious little laugh.
Maybe she would regret this later, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it now.
She showered, got dressed, and then walked outside the hotel onto the wide wooden deck that stretched out from one side of the lobby to overlook the view.
Standing in the breeze with the spectacular vista of a bay and mountains, she dialed Owen’s work number. He answered at once.
“Hello, Sarah.”
“Hey, Owen. I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to make it back. I can provide the names of other photographers—”
“Sarah,” he said, “if we bend the rules for you, we have to do that for everyone. I hope you understand that this is not how professional businesses work.”
A year ago, she would probably have groveled and agreed to come back. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not after running around in the dark taking pictures with Ren all night.
“I’m really sorry,” she replied. “I’ll be back next week, but I can understand if you can’t hold my position for me.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
She said a polite goodbye before she hung up the phone. What a beautiful view, she thought. And also, I’m fired.
She had a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant and then returned to her hotel room, where Ren was emerging from the bathroom, his hair wet from a shower, wearing only pants.
“Sorry, I’ll put on a shirt,” he said, looking embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I think I can handle your bare chest.”
He gave a sharp smile, and she realized that wasn’t what he’d meant. “Brutal, Sarah,” he said. “You’re brutal.”
“No!” Now she had to scramble to get out of the hole she had stepped into. “I just meant that I’m immune. I’m immune to all men right now.”
“Oh,” he said, grinning. “So if I did this…” and he struck a mock bodybuilder pose, “you would feel nothing? This isn’t sweeping you away?”
He was teasing, but he looked nice. And even worse, he was being charming and self-deprecating. “Okay, okay. Put your shirt on, Durand.”
“Sarah Drakenberg checking me out. After all this time.”
He grinned as he pulled a shirt on.
While Ren headed out to meet a workshop participant who had arrived early, Sarah checked her work email to see if she had received any kind of ‘you’re fired’ missive yet, but so far even Owen didn’t seem quite that organized, so she headed to the lobby.
Ren was standing next to a tall, handsome man who had the casual confidence and square-jawed good looks of someone selling expensive watches on the back of a men’s magazine.
“…not nearly as good as yours,” the man was saying. “If I go back to Namibia, I’m definitely doing it with you. Which is a good idea, speaking of. We should plan something in Africa.”
This must be one of the workshop participants. She had heard Ren talk about his Silicon Valley clients and had pictured computer nerds in the Bill Gates mold, but this man looked like he owned a yacht but didn’t make a big thing about it.
“Kyle,” Ren said when he spotted her, “I’d like you to meet Sarah. She’s going to be my assistant for this week.”
The man threw Sarah an assessing look, his eyebrows raised. “Freya couldn’t make it?”
Ren gave her a strange, nervous glance. “No, not this time.”
Kyle smirked at the two of them, revealing a dimple above his artfully scruffy jaw.
If Sarah had missed any of the implications of the exchange, Kyle’s amusement and Ren’s embarrassment would have told her enough.
Ren had been bringing a female assistant on his photo workshops, most likely a girlfriend, and Sarah was presumed to be the replacement.
“Sarah’s an old friend from undergrad and an excellent photographer,” Ren added.
Kyle turned at last and shook Sarah’s hand. “Of course she is. Nice to meet you. Kyle Allenby.”
Sarah felt frozen under his gaze. The effect of these two handsome men next to each other was almost anaesthetizing; she felt like she’d been hit by a brick for a moment. “I um…I was thinking of borrowing the car, picking up a few last odds and ends at the store,” she said to Ren after a moment.
“Sure,” Ren said. “Actually, can you pick up some food for the workshop? Everyone is supposed to have lunch before they get here, but a few of them always forget or don’t have time, so it’s helpful to have a few snacks.”
“Sure thing. I’ll get some options.”
Ren smiled and took the car keys and his wallet out. “Thanks. Any expenses,” he added as he handed her his credit card. “I appreciate it.”
He was looking at her warmly, but Sarah found herself eager to get away from Ren’s careful friendliness and Kyle’s amused gaze. As she drove Ren’s rental car down the mountain, she found herself taking the curves just a little too fast and had to take a deep breath and deliberately slow down.
Of course his ex was named Freya. Ren would never date someone named Kathy or Jen. And she had apparently broken up with him recently.
‘Nothing serious in that department,’ Ren had said. Not quite true, was it?
How soon afterwards had Ren decided that he needed a female replacement? How soon afterwards had he thought of Sarah, recently divorced and probably desperate to get back into photography? How could he not have told her any of this?
It was all so Ren, she thought. No matter how well they were getting along, no matter how much he said he cared for her, Sarah still felt an echo of that hurt from school: that she was the last one picked after he had dated the prettier women first. Now she was the replacement because his girlfriend had left him or couldn’t come and he didn’t want to be alone. She should have seen it coming.
She had composed herself by the time she returned. Ren entered their hotel room just as she was sliding some drinks into the mini refrigerator.
“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for picking up some snacks. Kyle wants to do a quick location scout with me somewhere further down the coast, in case it rains this week, so I was going to head out with him for an hour or so, take some test shots. Nobody should need anything from me before we meet up in the conference room at three, but if they do, have them call my cell phone.”
“Sure thing,” Sarah said. “But your cell service isn’t reliable, right? You can give people my number, too.”
“The service is worse than I hoped,” he agreed. He paused, giving her a searching look. “I’m sorry about the shared room. I could probably stay with Kyle if you want. He and I have known each other for a few years, so he wouldn’t mind.”
“It’s fine, Ren,” she said, keeping her eyes on her task. “This is fine.”
He watched her for a moment like there was more to say, then nodded and left.
Sarah arrived a few minutes before three in the small hotel meeting room that Ren had reserved for their daily workshop classes, ready to do whatever he might need.
He clearly had things well in hand, though: a polished presentation was being projected on a screen and there was a demonstration camera set up on a tripod.
He glanced up from his laptop as she entered.
“Hey. The way I usually do this is I spend the beginning of the first day giving an overview of the whole schedule, and then I let people who already know how to do night photography take off until dinner, and the new folks stay for the classroom portion, since our first lesson is all basics.”
“Perfect,” she replied. “I’ll learn along with them while nodding like I’m an expert.”
Ren smiled, then gave her an oddly strained look, like he was working up to something. “Oh, so by the way,” he said with an artificial casualness, “this woman named Freya used to be my assistant, and she came along on a couple of my last workshops.”
“Okay,” Sarah said in what she hoped was a natural tone of voice. She waited for him to go on.
“So the thing is—”
“Hey everyone! Are we interrupting?” A woman with a round, cheerful face poked her head in the door.
“Not at all, come on in,” Ren replied.
The woman was followed by several others, and Ren directed them to help themselves to snacks and drinks and to find seats around the table.
As the ten workshop attendees entered and sat down, introducing themselves in turn, Sarah began to mentally categorize them into different groups.
Five of them were single men, including Kyle, and several of the men seemed familiar with Ren from previous workshops.
Two of them looked older, probably retired—those were Fred and Grisha—and the other three single men, Kyle, Jack, and Cole, were her age or a little younger.
The rest of the group included a middle-aged husband-and-wife pair who were experienced photographers but brand new to night photography, a pair of women in their fifties who had done almost no photography at all (including the cheerful first arrival), and a gorgeous blond woman who immediately walked up to Ren as if they were old friends.
“Sorry I couldn’t make Iceland,” she said in a light German accent.
“Nice to see you, Elka,” Ren said. “I’m glad you could make this one.”
“So no Freya?” Elka scanned the room, her eyes landing briefly on Sarah.