Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
BEATRICE
Magic hour in New Orleans doesn’t ease in sweet and dreamy, lingering like a goodbye kiss, the way it did on the Scottish coastline.
It descends in an amber siege, flooding every flower and trailing vine in the Botanical Garden with light so golden it’s like staring at the world through a filter made of honey.
The air is cooler tonight, but still humid, still thick and seductive on my skin, like the garden is as excited about what we’re up to this evening as I am.
Like it wants in on the witchy revolution.
I start the shoot in a faux snakeskin dress by a stand of silk floss trees that are dripping in magenta blossoms. My makeup team touches up my blush so I don’t look washed out in the vivid light, and Duncan, one of the best fashion photographers working in New Orleans, gets down to business.
“Chin up, jaw loose, lips parted just a hint,” he says, shifting to the right, his assistant trailing him with a bounce board to keep the shadows from under my eyes.
“That’s it, now look down at the lens. Just eyes, don’t move your chin.
Hold. Exhale and…perfect!” The shutter clicks several times as I lift my chin higher, closing and opening my eyes a few times to keep my gaze alive.
After a few more poses, Duncan emerges from behind the lens with a happy sound. “Flawless. You’re slaying this already. As far as I’m concerned, you can relax and have fun. You’ve already got the album cover. Everything else is gravy.”
“Really?” I let out a relieved breath, arms flopping to my sides as Jan and Janie swoop in with their makeup brushes.
“Really,” Duncan assures me as he adjusts the settings on his camera. “I wouldn’t blow smoke up your ass.”
“He wouldn’t,” Janie seconds with a wink. “I’ve worked with him for years. Getting the shot comes first; your feelings come second. Or never, depending on how badly things are going.”
“Good,” I say, grinning as I meet Blue’s gaze over her shoulder.
He stands at the edge of the chaos, ready with my emergency bag of water, snacks, baby wipes, towels, and extra boob tape. My breasts are somehow even larger than when I bought my outfits and will require careful wrangling to keep the shots decent enough for public consumption.
But after we’re done tonight?
Well, I plan on getting indecent with my sexy boyfriend as soon as possible.
Damn, he looks good tonight, in jeans and a white button-up, watching me with a quiet pride that makes me feel warm all over.
I’ve never had a man look at me like this, support me like this.
Blue makes hard things easier and easy things like this so much more fun.
I’ve always performed well at photo shoots—a combination of knowing my angles and loads of experience.
Since our band signed with the record company when I was nineteen, I’ve probably done a hundred of these, but I already know this one is going to be my favorite.
Because this one’s all mine.
And because of Blue and the quiet certainty, deep in my bones, that things are only getting better from here on out.
It’s just a perfect night, like Mother Earth herself is on my side.
The light is perfect, the garden is in peak fall bloom, and every location we try is more gorgeous than the last. Once I’m in my second look—a cream silk dress that’s splits in the middle, leaving my entire belly bare—we move to the sunflower patch, then to the only slightly wilted rose garden, where I drape myself over the edge of the weathered marble fountain, and Duncan goes crazy.
He ends up on the ground beside me, shooting up toward the pink-streaked sky, and I can practically taste how good the shots are going to be.
By the time we finish, magic hour is almost over, but I have one last look, and Duncan has ideas about the lily pad pond.
Ideas that sound like a hell of a lot of fun…
Jan and Janie work like madwomen on my makeup, while Blue sprints back to the “bride’s room” I rented to use as a changing room to fetch my last dress.
There’s no time for me to get there and back myself, not before we run out of light.
But my man is as swift as he is sexy. He’s back in minutes, just as Janie and Jan apply the finishing touches to my smoky eye.
Then, everyone turns their backs while I strip down in the middle of the Botanical Garden, grinning the entire time.
Nineteen-year-old me would have been scandalized. Twenty-nine-year-old me doesn’t give a shit. She loves her body and her art too much to feel embarrassed about either. She’s happy. Free. And in love.
It’s only been two days, but I already know this is it.
This is my forever love, my forever man. The way Archer looks at me as I wade into the lily pond in my ball gown makes me feel invincible. Like the goddess of strong mamas and shameless women who refuse to compromise or shrink themselves to be what small-minded people want them to be.
I will be what my spirit demands I be, and if other people don’t like it?
Well, they can take several steps back, have a seat, and fuck all the way off.
Power swells inside me, and I swear, somewhere between the water’s edge and the middle of the pond, my ancestors join the shoot.
As I slide onto my back, belly jutting up through the lily pads, staring daggers into the lens, I’m not just Beatrice.
I’m every woman whose sacred act of creation was trivialized, whose pain was ignored, whose magic was mocked and minimized so the men in charge wouldn’t be intimidated by just how powerful “the weaker sex” actually is.
Weaker, my ass.
There’s nothing “weak” about being a woman or a mother.
I am a primal force clawing my way out of the earth, refusing to stay buried.
I am Woman, dirt under her nails and fire in her veins.
As I rise from the water, arms spread, hair dripping, the last of the red sun sinking behind me, a smile hooks the corners of my mouth, and I realize Checkers was right.
I am scary.
And the woman-crushing forces of the world should be afraid.
“Holy shit, woman. Yes! Yes!” Duncan shouts from the bank, his breath rushing out as he stands. His camera drops to his side as he points my way. “You just took me to church, Beatrice Nix, and that is a wrap!”
The rest of the team—his two lighting assistants, Jan and Janie, and Deb, my stylist, who gave up on my hair the second I waded into the water—burst into applause, making me blush, self-conscious now that the ancestors are seeping back into the water and soil.
But no one is clapping as loudly as Blue.
He’s not just clapping; he’s beaming, smiling so hard it’s infectious. By the time I reach the bank and he wraps me up in a towel, we’re both laughing.
Laughing and clinging to each other, celebrating this victory together.
Then, he kisses my temple and whispers, “You’re going to change the world, baby,” and I know he saw everything that went on in the water.
I pull back, gazing up at him. “We’ll change it together. And we won’t let her grow up believing any of their lies. None of that garbage touches her.”
He nods. “It’ll have to go through me first.”
A grateful lump rises in my throat as we say our goodbyes to Duncan and the others, thanking them for their amazing work.
Duncan promises to have online galleries ready for me to view by the end of next week, shakes my hand in a way that makes me think these shots must be something special, and heads for the exit, Jan and Janie tittering beside him.
Deb, who’s already collected her things from the dressing room, shoots me a double thumbs up behind Blue’s back, clearly approving of my new man, before joining Duncan’s assistants on their way out.
I hear them talking about grabbing sushi, and my stomach rumbles.
Archer smiles. “Bean wants sushi?”
“Bean can’t have raw fish. Sadly.” I take his hand, letting him help me up the bank and onto the path back to the bride’s suite. “But I think she’d be happy with Mongolian barbeque and a side of spicy broccoli.”
Blue makes an approving sound. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”
“Me, too,” I say as we cross the quiet garden. It’s so beautiful in the dusk, so peaceful. It makes me wish we could linger a while, but my stomach feels like it’s about to start digesting my spine, and Bean is not happy about how long it’s been since we finished that last pack of trail mix.
“I’ll be fast in the shower,” I promise as we reach the suite. “I just need to get the green gunk out of my hair. The pond was grosser than it looked. Hopefully, Duncan can remove the slime in post.”
“I didn’t see any slime,” Blue says, holding the door open for me. “You looked…”
I glance back at him as I toss the towel onto the floor by my bag. “Good?”
He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Fearless. Sexy. And completely yourself. That’s the part I liked best.”
Touched again, I watch him in the mirrored wall as he moves behind me to help with my zipper. “Because you like me?”
He holds my gaze, making me shiver as his warm hands find the zipper at the nape of my neck. “Yeah, I like you. A lot. Especially like this.” He nods toward the mirror. “Look at yourself.”
I shift my focus, studying my own reflection.
My hair hangs in damp, wild waves to my waist. My eye makeup is smudged, but in a way that makes my eyes more striking, and my lavender dress is soaked and mud-stained, with one rogue breast on the verge of busting free of my plunging neckline.
I look like I’ve been through something violent, but I’m still standing, still smiling.
Stronger than ever.
And behind me is a massive man with kind eyes and gentle hands who would lay down his life to protect me while I finish growing and birthing our baby.
It’s beautiful. We’re beautiful.
“I wish we had a picture of us like this,” I whisper. “But I know a selfie wouldn’t do it justice.”
“We’ll just have to remember.” He draws the zipper down, his eyes never leaving mine. “I know I won’t forget.”