Chapter Sixteen
Ryan
I hadn’t planned on going on an adventure to my new neighbor’s workplace, but here I sit in her car, firing off question after question, learning what I can about the famous photographer like it’s my sole mission in life.
I’m not sure what possessed me to do it, either.
Maybe it’s curiosity, a deep-rooted need to know who the woman behind the camera is.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve been intrigued by the blue-haired enigma since the first curse word penetrated the ceiling that separates our apartments.
No matter the reason behind my actions, I’ve never been more glad for them as I sit beside the vibrant woman wearing an ugly yellow suit she somehow makes look good, speaking at a speed I’m only just about keeping up with, and looking much calmer now than she did when I first heard her curse from upstairs and saw her standing in the elevator.
Recognizing a bad start to the day, having had plenty of them during my twenty-eight years of life, I made an extra coffee on the off chance I would run into Maddie.
I’m not sure why I was seeking her out to begin with, but her absence over the past couple of days felt weird after the introduction we had, and so I decided to rectify it by bringing her a latte much like mine.
The universe must have been looking down on me, because I found the manic pixie foot-tapping away in the elevator, looking stressed enough that not even the oversized sunglasses she’s wearing for the day could hide it.
I have no idea what possessed me enough to keep following her after that, but that’s a problem I’ll look into when I’m alone and not absorbing every detail I’m gathering from the new source of my budding obsession.
Hell, I could give Caiden a run for his money with how addictive I’m finding it to be in the same breathing space as Madison Fowler.
Thankfully, the entire ride to Maddie’s workplace proves to be very informative, mostly because I ask the woman every single question that comes to mind just to keep hearing her speak so enthusiastically about something she very clearly loves and enjoys.
I learn pretty quickly how talented Madison Fowler is when she admits she specializes in several styles and genres of photography, her landscape and street photography receiving a hefty number of awards, though it’s her work in the fashion and celebrity industry that has propelled her career to where it is now.
I learn about the incredibly long list of celebs she’s worked with, snapping promotional photos for movies and TV shows that I know I’ve seen plastered over the internet or in magazines, traveling all over the country to add more famous names to her rapidly growing list.
On top of that, she shocks me when she admits she’s very passionate about boudoir photography, something she’s evidently open about discussing without an ounce of embarrassment, making me smile as I listen to her speak.
“It’s a really great way to boost a woman’s confidence, you know?
And who the hell says you can’t slip into a sexy little number and pose like a slut in front of a camera to make you feel good?
Hell, I’ve done it, and I loved every second of it,” she confesses, and the sip of my latte I was taking does its best to ensure this is my last moment on earth.
Coughing and punching my fist against my chest, it takes a moment for me to guarantee my survival, but Maddie seems determined to snuff me off the face of the earth because her next words almost have me choking on my next unobstructed inhale.
“And you don’t even have to wear lingerie.
I mean, free the tits and clits, is what I say.
I’m all for a cheeky but tasteful nude pic to stroke a woman’s ego.
Hell, blow the photo up and print it on a canvas that spans a wall for all I care.
So long as it does the trick in elevating a woman’s self-esteem, I’m all for it,” she yaps away merrily, completely oblivious to the shock on my face or the way I’m barely clinging to the world of the living.
I’m a man destined to die today, it would seem, because her conclusion to a very colorful five-minute dialogue would have sent me to the grave if it wasn’t for my sheer will to live.
“So long as you don’t bend over and give me a glimpse of the chocolate starfish, it’s a good time to be had.
Not that I’m shaming a possible flash of the puckered hole, but a girl has to have boundaries, you know? ”
No. I don’t know. But I nod like I completely understand, risking another possible death by taking a slow sip of my cooling latte.
Deciding that I might not be able to survive much more of her boudoir talk, I change the topic of conversation, steering us into safer zones that won’t get me killed. “So, what made you follow the road of photography? I’ve actually seen a lot of your work, and you’re incredible at what you do.”
I’m sure she blushes, a pink tint blooming over the apples of her cheeks, and she smiles sheepishly as she watches the road with a diligence that makes me wonder if she actually is worried about the sentient robots she was muttering about on the couch before receiving stitches.
“Thanks. It’s something I was always pretty attached to growing up, but I think something really clicked when I turned sixteen.
I saw some unflattering photos of my mom online and got so mad that Mom and Dad had to take me for ice cream to calm me down.
I could tell Mom was pretty bummed about them, but she was trying to hide it.
So, to make her feel better, we set up a makeshift studio at home where I took cute photos of her that she shared online.
After that, some of my parents’ friends they worked with asked if I could take photos of them for different projects, and thus, my career was born,” she explains with a softness to her raspy voice that tickles a spot in my chest I try to ignore.
She makes it difficult when she sends me a smile and continues, “Mom has always been my muse, but so have my best friends. Ashton and I have been friends since we were in diapers, and we met Zelda and Henley in college, but we’ve all been thick as thieves for years.
They’re always quick to offer their pretty faces if I ever need them, and I love taking photos of them for their socials, so it’s a win-win.
I’ve never been short on models, so it made practicing and honing my skills that much easier. ”
She speaks so fondly that I can’t help but smile, absorbing each word, every micro-expression that crosses her beautiful face.
Not for the first time do I wonder how much is hidden beneath the exterior Maddie displays, having only ever seen her smiling professionally in magazines or online articles.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have considered she would be anything like the woman I’m quickly getting to know.
Sadly, the car ride ends much too soon as she pulls into the parking lot, the two of us descending into silence.
I unbuckle my seat belt as soon as Maddie has parked, catching a little smile on her lips, their fullness quirked upward as though she’s just realized something funny.
She doesn’t share what it is, but I don’t miss the inquisitive look she sends me before hopping out of the Jeep and muttering, “Leave your cup there if you’re finished. I’ll throw it away with mine later.”
I follow after her with an appreciative nod, hooking my bag over my shoulder, the laptop inside it acting as my heart outside my chest. The little device is basically my life in digital form.
Everything work-related is kept on my laptop, every photo I’ve taken over the years is safely tucked away in its respective folder, and there are countless documents saved to this thing.
I simply can’t function without it. At least, not as a normal human being.
My laptop to me is what crack is to an addict, or so I imagine.
It’s vital to my existence at this rate, and I go next to nowhere without it.
As Maddie rounds the car, she flashes me yet another smile before she says, “Follow me, sir. I’ll show you around real quick, and then you can get set up in the lounge. Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll get you a pass, so if anyone questions your existence, then you can tell them you’re with me.”
My eyes snap to hers just as her gaze swings to mine, and I watch in fascination as her mouth falls open and she shakes her head slowly. Her eyes narrow as she watches me carefully, and I can’t stop the way my lips twitch.
“Okay, I didn’t mean it that way, you dork,” she sighs, though there’s a hint of amusement intertwined with her words that has my twitching lips morphing into a small smile.
She rolls her eyes at the look, turning away a split second after I catch her own mouth pulling up into a smile, but then she starts talking and walking, and I’m forced to follow her.
“Anyway, no one should really bother you all that much. You’ll probably get a few curious glances, but that’s about it.
Actually, wait. No. There’s one person you should stay away from.
As great of an assistant as she is, Gretchen will talk your ear off if given even the slightest opportunity.
So, if you see a woman with oversized pink glasses, matching pink hair, and a style that resembles a homeless person who fought with a rainbow and lost, act deaf or something.
I need that girl to focus on work today, not discover the entire life story of my neighbor and share hers in return. ”
“That bad, huh?” I snicker, wondering what other characters Maddie has hired.
Dramatically, she nods, sending me a wide-eyed look over her shoulder just as we reach the front door to her studio, which looks to occupy at least four stories. A studio that looks as beautiful as the woman who owns it.