5. Cora
cora
. . .
I’m so deep in edits for a maternity photoshoot, I don’t hear the knocking on the door to the studio. It opens out into a hallway from the main reception, so whoever it is, has managed to get past that gatekeeper without alerting me.
There is nothing on my calendar for the rest of the day. A quick shiver of anxiety goes through me. It could be the management company for the building. So far, I’ve got away with living here. It’s only a matter of time before I get found out.
That much I haven’t told Emma. She has no clue I could be thrown out if they realize I’m here all the time.
However, when I pull open the door, I’m more shocked than I’d like to let on. I smother it quickly because that will only give him more ammunition. His megawatt smile is in full force. So that is how he got past reception.
“Do you have an appointment?”
Ronan grins. “I come bearing gifts.”
“I never ordered anything.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” He peers around me into the studio.
If he wasn’t a world-famous rock star, I’d leave him in the hallway. Given that most of the tenants will have been alerted he’s here, it’s best to get him out of sight.
“A certain photograph,” he says smugly.
I step back and let him in, hiding the intrigue and excitement about the picture.
To be honest, I didn’t think he was going to come through for me. It’s been three weeks since the wedding. It sunk in a few days later that Ronan Christian was entertaining himself at the wedding and had no intention of holding up our bargain.
It’s lucky I only gave him song recommendations and nothing of any real value. I’d brushed it off after that. And now he’s here.
“I thought we agreed to ask him to send the picture to me. I gave you my email address.”
“Must have lost your card,” he walks inside and looks around.
It’s a good-sized space. I have two individual sets, one with a white backdrop and lights, another is a half room which I set up with props and furniture to suit whatever style of shoot I’m doing.
Then I have my desk, and workspace where I do all the editing, meeting with clients and other boring stuff. The walls are adorned with pictures I’ve taken over the years.
And much like Ronan with his Walkman, I have a penchant for working in outdated ways, so there is a dark room for developing film.
“Yet you still found my place of business?” I close the door and follow him in.
He wanders onto the white backdrop set and touches some of the lights. Given his profession, he will have spent a lot of time in places like this.
“Imagine that.” He winks at me. “This is a nice place,” he comments.
“Do you have the photograph?”
“Of course.” He walks around another light stand further away from me.
Ronan has swagger I’ll give him that. Not that he needs it with the face and body he’s blessed with. He’s trying to push my buttons. What he doesn’t realize, he’s challenging someone who is a master at this game.
“I thought you would have forgotten all about me, given your current problems.”
Okay, maybe that was a step too far. His lips are pressed into a tight line when he looks over his shoulder.
The entire world knows there is a legal battle going on within Velvet Echo.
I was as shocked as the rest of the world when Perry and Christopher got into a fight with cameras there.
Of course, I didn’t see it until two days after the wedding.
For one, I had the hangover from hell. And two, I had a photo album to put together for an engagement shoot.
By the time I caught up with what was going on, the press was already talking about an unfixable rift with their lead singer. It’s been all over the news ever since .
It’s not in my nature to feel bad about the things I say or do, but this was a low blow.
“Sorry,” I tell him. I can be contrite when the need arises.
“Maybe I wanted to do something nice to forget about my…current problems.” He lifts a brow.
“Well, you shouldn’t have come here.”
“I’m seeing that.” He moves around some cables and a large white board where I keep the layout and plans of upcoming shoots, never taking his eyes off me. “Then again, a reality check may be what I need.”
“What does that mean?”
“The music industry is full of yes people and ass kissers.”
“Oh.” I lean back against my desk. “You’re being pacified.”
“Something like that.”
Ronan walks past me and stands in front of the wall of images, staring from one to the next. He takes his time, studying each one. While I do the same, only it’s him I’m studying. Has he really come here for a break from the shittery of his life?
And why do I feel immense pressure to make him feel better? That isn’t my job. He must have plenty of women willing to fawn over him. Hmm, he said he’s had enough of ass kissers though. Should I insult him some more? Make him feel better?
Perhaps I could tell him he has a nice butt. Those jeans are snug. I tilt my head a little to get a better angle.
“The PR machine is out of control,” he says, breaking the silence and jolting me from my inspection of his ass. “They want to let everyone see that despite the troubles, we’re still a band, and we’re not going anywhere.”
“Is it true?”
He comes over to my desk. I resist the urge to move out of his space when he stops in front of me. “I get the feeling I can trust you, Cora.”
Oh shit, I shouldn’t like the way my name rolls off his tongue. He’s a charmer. Well, I’m no easy, panty dropping snake… That made more sense before the thought fully formed. As in he’s a snake charmer. Jesus. He’s making me stupid.
Ronan’s eyes are locked on mine with the briefest dip to my lips and back again. Even a snake could fall foul of that look.
“You still with me?” he interrupts my nonsensical thoughts.
“Did you see me leave?”
He smirks, choosing to ignore my fluster. “Caden is a better singer than Christopher.”
I take a second to realize we’re back to the topic of the band. “He is the best looking one in the band.”
“Ha.” He steps back. “Now I know you’re playing. Him and Gray are identical.”
“Double trouble.” I wink and move around him to go stand by my chair.
“That your kind of thing?”
Not on your life but he doesn’t need to know that. “May I have my picture? I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have nowhere I need to be right now. Besides…” He puts his hands in his pockets. I don’t notice how that tightens the fabric around his crotch, not at all. “I might have some work for you.”
I almost tell him I don’t need the work, but my business brain overrides the one who has allowed this man to make my IQ drop. Still, it’s a good idea not to let on how eager you are.
“Oh, by the way, I listened to those songs you suggested. They’re on your mixtape.”
“ My mixtape?”
“Yep. So, our PR team want to show that we can make it as a four piece. I think a photoshoot would do that.”
“God, you’re even worse than me for tangent hopping.”
Ronan grins. “I think this could work out in both our favors. You get to work with Velvet Echo.”
“Are we back to those negotiations you’re so fond of?”
He walks over to the set area. Oh fuck, my personal things are behind there. He can’t see that.
“What do you get?” I call out, louder than I intended.
Ronan faces me with a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, I get to hang out with you.”
“And the rest of the band?”
“I’m used to shutting them out.”
“Can we please just get back to the matter at hand? The original one. The photograph?”
“First you need to tell me what you think of my photoshoot idea.”
He walks toward me, and I let out a breath of relief, never showing him that my heart rate sped up so fast I felt lightheaded. Gathering my wits, I watch as he flops down in the chair in front of my desk. He spreads his long legs and clasps his hands on his stomach.
“Am I mistaken?” I query, resting my hip on the desk, quite liking how I tower over him. “But didn’t we agree two songs on the mixtape, for one copy of the photograph?” He looks at me as if I’m talking Italian. “That’s the way I recall the conversation going.”
“True, but with this new deal, you’re the real winner.”
“Getting to work with Velvet Echo makes me the winner.”
“Many photographers would bite my hand off for this opportunity.”
“So go talk to them.”
Ronan contemplates me in silence. I stare back. This isn’t getting us anywhere. Also, am I out of my mind? He’s right, my competitors would lose their shit being offered this chance. I can’t do myself out of this job because I’m trying to one up the hot rock star. He’ll always win.
“Or,” I walk around the desk and take a seat in my chair. “You hand over the photograph, and we talk terms.”
Ronan grins. I hold up my hands. After a mini battle of wills, he takes out his phone and picks up one of my business cards. Keeping up his bullshit ruse he lost the one I gave him at the wedding. He pauses after clicking around a bit and looks up at me.
“You were right you know.”
“I usually am,” I say.
He laughs and shakes his head. “And humble too. ”
“What was I right about?”
My phone pings, letting me know an email has arrived. I’m too caught up in Ronan’s mesmerizing gaze to turn away. His voice is gentler when he speaks. Almost reverent, which is disconcerting.
“A beautiful image. Capturing a perfect moment.”
He’s flustering me. I don’t do flustered. I snap my focus from him and click into my email. The weirdness is not going to stop me looking at this photograph.
My desk is L-shaped, with three screens. Two I work on when editing. The one I open the email on is angled so clients can view it. Which means Ronan sees exactly what I’m reacting to, which is not surprising, given it’s a picture of him.
My jaw drops, then I snap it closed and side-eye the man sitting opposite me.
“You needed proof. There it is. My Walkman, in all its glory.”
He’s lying on a bed topless, in jeans with one leg bent outward. A Walkman is resting just above his crotch. He has one hand on it, the other is out of shot. My gaze follows the wire of his headphones trailing up his toned, muscular stomach and chest.
He’s cropped off most of his face, just the sexy grin is showing right at the top of the image. It’s the perfect composition. Enough to tease, draw in the viewer and leave them wanting more.
There is a tattoo on his left pec, which Ronan is famed for. A detailed roadmap of the Pacific Northwest, centered around Portland, Oregon, where he was born. It looks mighty fine against his tanned skin.
“It’s a nice one.” I clear my throat and click on the attachment, ignoring his smirk. As unsolicited pics from guys go, this is a treat rather than a trick.
“It’s worth a lot of money.”
“Be quiet, Ronan.” I keep my focus on the screen as the shot of Emma and I opens.
The rock star is momentarily forgotten. It’s perfect.
The light, the positioning, the way we’re laughing.
Again, I marvel at how beautiful my sister is.
Emma needs to see this, her smile is so infectious, her eyes sparkling with just the right mixture of laughter and love.
That it’s me she is gazing at makes my heart swell.
Everyone should have a sister like Emma.
Ronan clears his throat. I almost forgot he was here. It takes a second to blink out of the haze I went into staring at the picture. I click out of it, ready to face the rockstar in person, instead I’m confronted with another glimpse at the picture of him.
“What is it the band are looking for?” I lean back in the seat, not shutting out of the email, but keeping my attention on the real man. Not his image.
“A re-brand.” He taps his fingers against his knee.
He’s beating out a continuous rhythm, over and over. Since coming in here, he’s been lighthearted, kind of cocky, and bantering with me in a way I’m trying not to enjoy. This is making him nervous.
Anxious is a better word .
It’s time to dial in the sarcasm. He’s feeling this break within his band. I’m guessing he doesn’t want sympathy.
“We’re a four piece now. We want to unveil it to the world.”
“Isn’t it a foregone conclusion?” I’ve seen the news articles.
“From Christopher.” He blows out a heavy breath. “The rest of the band hasn’t said anything.”
Okay, he doesn’t want to share. I am fine with that. Maybe. I’m also a nosey bitch. “And having a photoshoot is how you’re planning to announce it? Don’t bands normally release a statement via their social media with things like this?”
“We’re not normal.” He smirks. “Which is why this isn’t an announcement. It’s a new album cover.”
I sit back further. This is huge. Not just an album cover for a massive rock band. A new album without their lead singer. Ex-lead singer.
How is this happening right now? It would be an idiotic move to turn him down. My heart pounds so fast, it’s hard to keep the excitement inside.
“I’m not saying this as a slight on my work, but I’m a small studio. The only employee. Do you think I’m the best person to take photographs of a world-famous rock band, one on the brink of a life-changing moment?”
Ronan glances around the studio, to my work on the wall, then back at me.
“I think you’re perfect.”