Finding Focus (11 page)

“It was really nice meeting you, Camille,” I tell her.

“You, too, Dani. Don’t be a stranger.” She stands up and pulls me into a hug. “Maybe I’ll see you around before you leave.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” I squeeze her back and turn to Carter. “Hey, buddy. You take care of your mom, okay? And try to keep this big guy in line,” I tell him, pointing to Deacon.

“Okay, Ms. Dani.”

Man, he’s a cute kid.

“You ready?” Micah asks, standing at the back door with my camera in his hand.

“Uh, you break that, you buy it.” I smile at him to let him know I’m just joking.

“Oh, really?” He raises an eyebrow and holds the camera out from his body, acting like he’s going to drop it. “Like this?” The camera slips, but he immediately catches it.

“Hey.” I reach out and take it from him. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“You know, Micah,” Deacon says from where he’s standing by Camille as she gets Carter’s stuff together, “I wouldn’t mess with her if I were you. I think she can take you.”

Micah laughs and opens the back door for me. “I think you’re probably right. She’s probably got mad street skills from livin’ in the big city.” His blue eyes sparkle when he looks down at me, causing me to forget what I was doing or saying.

Focus, Dani.

“After you.” Micah stands to the side and sweeps his hand out, signaling for me to lead the way.

“Thanks.”

We walk for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Occasionally, I glance back at the house, looking for the perfect perspective for the photo I have in mind.

“I like watching you work. It’s very methodical.”

Micah’s confession makes me blush, and I’m thankful for the darkness.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to stick around for my birthday party?”

“I’d like to. My flight back to New York is booked for Saturday afternoon.”

“Well, as long as you don’t get too wasted, you should be fine.”

“Hey, I can’t help being a lightweight.”

Micah laughs. “I kinda like that you’re a lightweight. Drunk Dani is pretty fun.” He stays quiet while I take a few shots of the house, working to get the right setting on my camera so the warm glow from the windows comes out the way I want it to. “Sober Dani is fun, too.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“Well, first you tell me how you like watching me work, and then you tell me I’m fun. I mean, a girl can only take so many compliments.”

He shakes his head, laughing lightly. “It’s all true.”

“Well, I think you’re pretty fun, too, Micah Landry.”

We walk a little farther away from the house when an idea comes to mind. “Hey, do you mind if we walk over by the pond? I bet it’s beautiful at night.”

“Sure. And you’re right. It’s beautiful. Especially on a night like tonight.”

As we approach the little pond, my heart practically leaps out of my chest. “Beautiful,” I whisper, mostly to myself, bringing my camera up to my eye. The full moon overhead dances on the water. I take a moment to get the few shots I want and then sit down on the small dock jutting out over the water.

Micah sits next me, our feet dangling off the side, nearly grazing the surface of the pond.

“Wow,” I whisper, afraid to disrupt the stillness of the night.

“Yeah, this is by far one of my favorite places on the property.” His voice is low and even . . . soothing, just like the peaceful water.

“I bet you’ve romanced plenty of girls right out of their morals on this dock,” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ve ever brought anyone down here, actually.”

I find that hard to believe, but I don’t say anything.

“Now, Deacon on the other hand.” He laughs lightly. “He’s always been the romantic one.”

I laugh. “I can see that. He seems like quite the charmer.”

“To say the least.”

“So, what’s the story with him and Camille?”

“Oh, man.” Micah pauses for a second, running his hands through his hair. “We were all really tight through school. There’s only a few years difference between all of us—Tucker, Camille, Deacon, and myself. We all hung out, and there was always an unspoken
thing
between Deacon and Camille. But neither of them would take the leap and really say how they felt,” he says, muttering, “Pussies,” under his breath. “So, Cami went off to college in New Orleans, and Deacon went to college in Baton Rouge. They’d see each other when they were home during the holidays, and it’d be like no time had ever passed, but they were both still so damn stubborn. Camille started dating some guy her senior year. I guess they were pretty serious, but when she found out she was pregnant with Carter, he bounced. Eventually, she moved back home to be closer to her family, and Deacon moved back home after he graduated. They’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“He seems like he’s really good with Carter.”

“Yeah, he’s all Carter has ever known. He doesn’t call him dad or anything, but he’s the closest thing the kid has, and the rest of us are crazy about him.”

“I can tell. He has your mom and dad wrapped around his finger.”

“You’re tellin’ me. I’ve always heard people were different with their grandkids, but I never fully understood it until Carter was born. He gets away with everything.” Micah chuckles, looking out over the water.

“Do you want kids?”

“Yeah.” It’s so easy for him to answer that question. He didn’t even hesitate. “How ‘bout you?”

“I do.” My mind immediately goes to Graham and the nearly identical conversation we had a couple years ago. He admitted he couldn’t see himself with kids. I just thought it was because he had never been around them and once we got to that point, he’d change his mind. But a year ago, we had a scare . . . well, a scare for him, not so much for me. I was a few days late and had been on antibiotics that month, which, as it turns out, can affect your birth control. It hadn’t even dawned on me until I didn’t start my period. Then, I started doing the math and overthinking everything. Graham completely freaked out. He blamed me, saying I did it on purpose. Much to his relief, I started a few days later. We haven’t talked about it since.

“Earth to Dani . . .” Micah says, nudging me.

“Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere . . . what were you saying?”

“I was just asking, not that it’s any of my business, but what was that phone call earlier about?”

“Oh, that.” I pause, not really wanting to discuss it, but the peaceful water and Micah’s company lulls me into a sense of comfort, so I decide to elaborate. “Uh, it was a message I was leaving for Graham.”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you guys serious?” Micah shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” He looks back out across the water. “It’s just that . . .” he begins again, struggling with what to say. “I overheard you sayin’ something about him being with someone else. I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdroppin’, but . . .”

“It’s okay. It’s kinda complicated. Graham and I go way back. We’ve been together forever. Seriously, like since before my granny passed away. We met in college, and since we were taking similar classes, we became fast friends. Lately, things have been a little . . . tense, I guess, with me losing my job and everything.”

“You lost your job?”

“Yeah, probably not the thing you tell your current clients.” I shrug, feeling comfortable talking to him.

“So, you haven’t always worked for
Southern Style
?”

“No, this is my first assignment. It’s really my first time ever to take an assignment like this. I’ve been working for a New York publication since I graduated college. Graham’s dad is a big editor in New York, so he got Graham and me internships at
New York Metro
. We were both hired once we completed our internships. Graham worked his way into an editor position right away, probably because of his last name. I, on the other hand, worked my way up from the bottom. I started out as a photography assistant, which means I got coffee for people and held some lights.” I laugh because it’s true. I started thinking I’d never get to hold a camera again.

“A few years ago, I finally got to start taking my own assignments. It felt good to create something and do what I was meant to do. But after a while, it became stagnant. I actually hated it. It was the same people, same faces, and same places. It was boring.”

“Yeah, you seem like someone who needs a challenge.”

“I do. It keeps me on my toes.”

“I can see that about you.” He nods his head, now looking at me instead of the water. “So, what happened?”

“They fired me.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Graham?”

“Oh, he still works there. He claims I made him look bad.”

Micah scoffs at that. “That’s bullshit.”

“I think so, too.”

“I
know
so. He should’ve stuck up for you. If I . . . I mean, if it were . . . well, I would’ve, if I were in his position.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what about what you said about him being with someone else?”

I cringe. I should’ve waited until we were face to face again to bring that up. That’s just not something you talk about over the phone, but I was frustrated and annoyed he hadn’t even called—
still
hasn’t called.

“Well, I don’t really know. It’s just this gut feeling I have. He went on a vacation without me . . . from me—hell, I don’t know.”

“Wait a minute. He went on a vacation without you?”

“Yeah, he said he needed to get away.”

“Bullshit,” Micah mutters under his breath. I’m not sure which affects me more: his sweetness or the way he’s defending me against Graham.

“Would you go on a vacation without your girlfriend?”

“Fuck no. I mean, not unless it was a dudes trip or something.”

“Definitely not a dudes trip.”

“Well, then, that’s fucked up.”

Hearing Micah’s point of view makes me feel better and worse. “I better go,” I tell him, gradually standing back up. “It’s getting late and I’m planning on getting in some shots of your mom’s garden tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, uh, thanks for walking out here with me and for listening to all of my drama. I know it might be unprofessional of me, but . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. I asked.”

We walk slowly back up to the house, enjoying the coolness of the evening. I pop back into the house and say goodnight to Annie and Sam before Micah walks me to the front door and watches me drive off. My mind is still on our conversation when my phone lights up the dark car. I half expect it to be Piper, or perhaps Annie telling me I forgot something, so when Graham’s dad’s voice comes through the phone, I have to pull it back and do a double take, vaguely recognizing the New York number.

“Mr. Harrison?”

“Sheridan, I’m glad I finally got in touch with you.”

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Graham?” I can’t think of any other reason he would be calling me. We’re not on friendly phone call terms.

“Yes. He’s been in an accident. I should’ve called you yesterday, but I was waiting to see what the plan of action would be.”

My heart sinks into my stomach and twists into a knot. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story, and I don’t have time to go into details. Graham will have to tell you. But I need you to be at your house in the morning when his plane lands. He’s going to be incapacitated for a while, and since his apartment is on the twentieth floor, I figured your apartment would be more feasible for him—”

“Mr. Harrison,” I say, cutting him off, “I’m not in New York. I . . . I won’t be home tomorrow. You’ll have to make other arrangements for him until I can get back.”

“That’s not acceptable. I have meetings all week.” His voice rises, sounding exactly like his son when he doesn’t get his way, or perhaps it’s the other way around. “You must . . . I
need
you to be here. There isn’t anyone else who can assist him. I don’t have time to put everything on hold to cater to him.”

Fury rises within me. Why does he think
I
have time to put everything on hold? I don’t even like Graham right now. Taking care of his every need is not something I
feel
like doing.

“You owe this to him, Sheridan. He’s always been there for you when you needed him.”

Guilt. That’s what I’m suddenly feeling, because he’s right. Graham dropped everything the day my granny died. He went with me to Mississippi and held my hand through the preparations and funeral. He forced me to go to class when I wanted to crawl into bed and shut the world out. He brought me pizza and ice cream. He has always been there for me up until recently, and I’m not sure when he stopped.

“Okay,” I reply quietly, feeling reprimanded and ashamed of myself. “I’ll be there. I mean, I can’t be there tomorrow, but I will make arrangements to get back as soon as I can.”

His loud sigh over the phone tells me he’s displeased with that answer, but he finally accepts it. “Fine. I’ll work something out.”

“Mr. Harrison, is Graham going to be okay?” I realize I still don’t know what happened to him or the extent of his injuries.

“Yes. He has several broken bones, one being his femur. He had surgery yesterday morning, and they placed a rod in his leg with screws at the hip and knee. The recovery time will be extensive. He’s still in a significant amount of pain, but he wants to come home, so I’ve arranged for a private flight. He’ll be back in New York tomorrow afternoon.” He sighs again, but this time, there’s concern laced in there. Somewhere, deep down, he really does care. “I’ll take care of him until you make it back. Does he have a key to your apartment?”

“Yes,” I reply, a sick feeling bubbling in my stomach. The thought of his leg being broken and him going through surgery makes me feel that much more guilty for the thoughts I’ve had lately. I can only imagine how much pain he must be in. I feel nauseous just thinking about it. “You said several broken bones, what else?”

“A fracture in his opposite foot and a break in his arm. He also has a few bruised ribs.”