Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Keri
“That’s me. That’s our photo from Feather Falls.”
Adam and I are sitting at the kitchen table. His laptop is open, displaying the dreamy image. I notice a familiar French logo in beautiful script near the hem of my cerulean dress.
“What is Nouvelle Vie?”
“It’s a French perfume by Pierre Jardo.”
“You mean, the Pierre Jardo?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh, my goodness. How did this happen? How did he get our photo?”
We’ve been home for less than twenty-four hours, and I don’t recall having a conversation with Adam about anyone interested in our photography concept. I have no idea how all this works. Seeing our photo in a high-class advertisement has me tittering with excitement. I’m also confused.
“Unfortunately, it’s a pirated copy.”
I jerk my head to look up at him, eyes wide with confusion. “A pirated copy? You mean, he stole it?”
Adam runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
“Basically. Pierre Jardo didn’t have permission or the legal copyright to use our image in his perfume campaign, but he did it anyway.
I worked with him several years ago, and he assumed I’d be okay with it.
He’s not a good guy, and back then, it was not a pleasant experience. ”
“What do you mean?”
“The man is a bully. Extremely rude and hard to deal with. Fast forward and he had a near-death experience last year and has a new appreciation for life, hence the French fragrance name, Nouvelle Vie, which basically means ‘new life.’”
“Well, I’m glad he’s okay. But how did he get our photo?
” I keep scrolling through the website, even though I don’t understand the French words on the screen.
Still, I realize this is a huge deal. The kind I never imagined.
Pierre Jardo’s high-end fragrances have been out of my reach for years.
My meager pocketbook can’t compete with that kind of luxury.
“Dan shared the photo with a colleague who works with Pierre. According to Dan, Mr. Jardo fell in love with the image the minute he saw you and couldn’t wait for a formal contract, so he had his team post it to his website.
He wants more, and he’s made it known he’s willing to pay top dollar to get more. To get you.”
“How much?” Disbelief sharpens my voice. Our concept actually worked.
“I don’t know yet. A negotiated contract this big could be six figures or more.”
“Six figures?” I gape and lean forward to look at the image again.
I remember the moment Adam took this picture at Feather Falls in California, right after Roxy and Justin’s wedding.
My arms are spread wide, and you can make out the subtle profile of my face tilted to the side.
My smile is slight. Eyes closed. My blonde hair trailing down my back stands out against the blue of my grandmother’s hand-sewn dress.
I remember the sound of the thundering waterfall reverberating through my body and the click-click-click of Adam’s camera.
His sexy baritone voice gently coaching me through it.
Knowing a billion-dollar brand wants to use the image leaves me shook.
“Told you it was a good concept: high fashion meets Mother Nature. We nailed it,” I croak.
“We sure did.”
I look at Adam again. “What does this mean exactly? Is it too late to implement a legal deal? Or will the man be arrested?”
“Dan is getting a lawyer involved. Pierre knows he’s breaking all the rules by using the image illegally.
It’s a shame that some wealthy celebrities like him believe they’re above the law and that rules are meant for others.
We’ve filed a cease and desist order to have the photo taken down until we can come up with a plan. ”
“A plan? What kind of plan?”
Adam stretches his arms across the table and holds my hands. His serious expression is concerning.
“This is a big, big deal, Keri, and it shouldn’t have gone down like this. But I want you to know, I’m taking care of it. I’m taking care of you.”
“Will we get paid? And what does he want from us exactly?”
“More of you. More photos. Campaign appearances. Possible commercials. Meet-and-greets at high-end department stores. Pierre is a smart businessman with deep pockets. And he has a new lease on life since his accident last year. He took one look at you and pegged you as his…” He stops talking.
“As his what, Adam?”
“His angel.”
I stare off into space, my mind swirling. “Wow. This gives Angel Face a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?”
Adams squeezes my hands. “It does if you want it to.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do you want to be the face of Nouvelle Vie and give up anonymity? Because that’s what will happen.” He lets go of me and raises his arms with his palms up. “Do you want to give up all of this for a life in the spotlight? You told me it’s what you dreamt about as a kid.”
“I… I don’t know.”
“We could always make this a one-photo deal with the man and call it a day. Or…”
“Or?” I wait.
“Or you could upend your life and dive into the cut-throat world of high fashion.”
I chew on my lower lip for several seconds.
This is not something I ever dreamed I’d have to think about.
It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a girl like me.
But I’m torn. I’ve finally found peace in my life, and with a man I truly love.
And now, this major opportunity has presented itself, causing me to falter.
When I was a teenager, dipping my toes into the world of beauty pageants, I often dreamt of bigger and better things.
I wanted to go straight to the top. As corny as it sounds, I wanted to be Miss America.
I pictured myself as a brand ambassador, traveling as a positive role model.
Making public appearances while dressing the part and encouraging women with passion and strong work ethic.
This could be an incredible opportunity for us. My “Angel Face” might finally bring us real money. We could live anywhere and make lasting memories.
On the other hand, I like where we’ve landed.
I like our slow-paced life in the country and how Adam is fixing up my grandmother’s old farmhouse.
The way he whistles when he works. The joy on his face when he’s accomplished a difficult plumbing task or after he’s hung a new light fixture.
Simple evenings holding hands while watching the southern sunset with the crickets chirping and the sky ablaze in burnt orange and tangerine.
Waking up pressed against his warm body with the house settling all around us.
Floorboards creaking in the hallway. Tree branches scratching at the windows. The wind sweeping across the meadows.
The two of us coming together and realizing that home is a person. My home is Adam.
He fills the empty places in my life with his carefree smile and love of nature.
He brought me back to myself. And isn’t that where I need to be?
Not in some fancy French ad campaign, preening and pretending to be someone I’m not.
Those days are over. I’m a Georgia country girl.
The only reason I came up with the pageant dress photography idea was so I could work with Adam and share my grandmother’s creations with others—not to be “discovered” in a photo illegally obtained and then whisked off into the foreign world of modeling.
I look across the table and notice Adam’s smile is fractured with uncertainty. He’s silently studying me.
I’m finally happy, but I’m not sure if I want to risk changing my way of life.
Will I regret not giving this a shot? I don’t know.
This is a life-altering decision. A few months ago, I would have jumped at a way out of this one-stoplight town.
But now, I have too much to lose. Now isn’t the time to experiment with a new career. I’m ready to settle down.
“Dan is assembling our legal team, and we’ve scheduled a video conference in a few days. I want you to be prepared for what he has to offer. But I also want you to be honest with me, and yourself.”
“I’m always honest with you, Adam.”
“I know. But if this is something you really want… something you need in your life, I’m not going to hold you back.”
I shut the laptop and frown. “Because you’d be coming with me, right?”
His smile is slight, his eyes clouding over with a familiar sadness.
“I’m prepared to make a one-photo offer.
I have no interest in an ongoing global campaign.
If that’s something you have to have, I’ll understand.
And I’ll absolutely help assemble a photography team you’ll be comfortable with long-term. ”
“Long-term?” My heart is racing, and my mind is reeling with the thought of Adam literally out of the picture.
“I’m not cut out for this anymore, Keri. I’m happy here, with you. But as I said, if this is something you truly want to do, we can negotiate the terms so it feels right for you. I’ll help you the best I can.”
“You… you’d let me go do this without you?”
He licks his lips and avoids my stare. “I want to make you happy, Keri.”
“It’s you who makes me happy. Nothing else.”
Our eyes lock, his intense gaze causing warmth to pool in my tummy. “I would never forgive myself if I made you choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Me, or your career.”
“I wouldn’t have to choose if you came with me. We talked about this, Adam. You and me against the world. Beauty and the Beast, remember?”
“I remember. But this is too big. It’s too much. I was in the fashion and celebrity photography world before. It’s rough. Just ask Ridge Wilson about it.”
My thoughts immediately divert to the handsome, award-winning actor, his beautiful wife Beverly, and their precious son, Roman.
Ridge has often said that if Hollywood came calling again, he’d have to pass.
Unless it was a project he was seriously passionate about. Am I passionate about this project?
“A global campaign like this is grueling. In the past, work at this level took me away from my wife and child for months at a time. You need to be prepared that it will take you away from me,” Adam continues.
My heart is in my throat, and I will myself not to cry. “It won’t take you away if you come with me,” I reiterate. Why is he not listening?
He stands and shakes his head. “I can’t do it, Keri. I know this about myself. I’m sorry.” He runs his knuckles under his nose and sniffles. “You have some time to decide how you want to approach this. I promise, I’ll support you, whichever route you want to go.”
He pats his thigh, Molly’s sign to get up from her mat and follow him. He turns and walks out the back door, leaving me alone and more confused than ever.
I drop my face into my hands and press the heels of my palms against my eyes, willing the sudden desperation I feel to go away.