The Devastatingly Beautiful Series (2 page)

3

Tatum

When the guy at the motel asked how long I was staying I didn’t have an answer for him. At first it was just supposed to be a one night deal, but after driving through town I didn’t have the heart to leave so quickly. This is the most perfect, quaint looking town I’ve come across in a long time. I have to see what makes it seem so perfect.

“Well, if ya plan on stayin’ long term, I rent out a few places. There isn’t much here for work, seeing as most who live in the town run the town, but if ya want, I can see if anyone is looking for help,” he suggested.

“Thanks, man, I’ll let you know. Right now I just want to relax. Driving alone is exhausting.”

It felt so good to be alone. I can’t remember the last time I had free time to myself without my dad pressuring me. Time to think, relax, and actually find a hobby. This little town feels like just the place to start anew. Find a new me and forget about the old. If that can even happen. My hope is that this place is remote enough that my past can’t find me here. I just have to be smart about it. Learn to live modestly. That’s not hard, right?

Taking a walk, I come across a general store. Heading inside to grab a water, I see two older women talking at the counter. I see them look over at me, then they lower their voices considerably so I can’t hear what they are talking about. Grabbing my water and a bag of candy, (it’s a weakness, I know) I head towards the two women.

“Well hi there, you’re new here,” the more natural looking of the two women says. The other one stands there just staring at me. I can’t tell if she’s happy, surprised, or if that’s just the way her face looks. Seems to me she’s trying way too hard to stay young, rather than embracing her age.

“Yes, ma’am, just stopped in for a rest. Town looks so nice, though, I may just end up staying for a while. Hitting the reset button on my life, if you will.” I don’t know what makes me want to talk to these women, but it feels nice talking to someone who doesn’t know me. I can keep any undesirable part of my life out of the picture as long as the past stays away.

“Well, if you do decide to stay, just let us know. We know of someone who could use your help. You look like just the perfect man for the job.” Why does everyone in this town keep trying to get me a job right away? I don’t need the money, nor do I need to answer to anyone but myself. Thinking more about it, though, if I stay, it would be suspicious I wasn’t working yet had money to spend. Just as a backup plan, I figure I may as well ask about the job and the women seem to brighten up when I inquired.

After a decent meal at a local café and not quite sure who or what this job is for, I find myself following the women’s direction of where to find my potential employer. Ha! That’ll never sound right. The details I have are this person will be at the park taking pictures of random things around this time of day. It’s beyond me what man has time to waste with picture taking, but here I am. Walking towards the park I see one lone car in the lot. Good lord, if the guy is out taking photos and driving around in that woman car he may need my help more than I thought. Crossing the small bridge that separates the parking lot from the playground, I stop dead in my tracks. Ahead of me is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And she’s taking random pictures in the park. It dawns on me; I was never supposed to meet a man. It was a woman the whole time, and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.

Shit.

Molly

What the hell? This guy has a lot of nerve interrupting my peace time. Then on top of it he pulls a cheap line like that? Maybe I’m getting old, but I don’t want lines anymore. They do nothing for me.

“Sorry, guy, not interested. In anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

I scoot around him while looking through my camera bag to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. God, he smells good. Nope, that’s the flowers nearby. I’m telling myself it’s the flowers. Don’t look him in the eye. It’s the flowers that smell good.

It’s not the flowers.

Holy hell, I’m in trouble. Just then he gently grabs my elbow to stop me from running. I pause, letting the heat from his touch glide down my body. Oh Jesus, this is bad. One touch and I’m responding so clearly to him already. It’s just because I haven’t been properly laid in… oh… months? Jesus, I really need to get out more.

“Wait, I uh, I’m sorry. That came out wrong and weird, and yes it was actually a dick move on my part. I’m Tatum, I heard you were in need of some help.” He stares at me, trying to read my physical response to him, all the while waiting for my verbal response. His hand still resting on my elbow, his eyes locked with mine, and I feel the wetness start to dampen between my legs. Jesus Christ he’s good looking. Physically, my arms are screaming ‘TAKE ME NOW!’ which also seems to be the same thing my lady parts are screaming. The only part not agreeing is my head. Damn head.

“Um, Tatum, is it? I’m not sure what you think you are saying or doing right now, but I don’t need any man’s help. I sure as hell don’t need a man who starts off with that lame of a line. I’m late for an appointment now, due to this unfortunate conversation so please excuse me.”

With that I walk off towards my car, leaving him to stand there alone, looking after me as if no one had ever told him no before. I’m not sure who this character is, but I’m damn sure I know exactly who sent him my way. Not one, but two lovely older ladies who seem to think the only way to feel complete is getting attention from a man. I’m going to need to have a talk with them.

First, though, I have a very important meeting with a very high profile client. Turning on the radio, I roll the windows down and drive back to the office. All the while trying to get my head back on straight from my encounter with Mr. Sexy Ass. I mean Tatum.

4

Tatum

Well, that didn’t go as planned. Since when does a woman not respond positively to me? I didn’t even get this chick’s name. No, not chick, woman. All I know is she has the most brilliant colored red hair I’ve ever seen and beautiful green eyes. Her hair looks natural, too. Not fake, box color like I’ve seen on so many women in the past. She was real. Her skin was almost glowing when I walked up to her, then when I opened my dumbass mouth it dulled. Almost like she hated men. Oh God, I hope she isn’t a lesbian. Nothing against them, just that I’m a dude and hot women who don’t like dudes depress me.

Either way, I’m more interested in this potential job than I was about 15 minutes ago. No, I’ve never worked for a woman so it will be a whole new adventure, also since I still don’t know what the job is for I’m sure I’m in for a world of new experiences. The ladies earlier didn’t tell me and the way that this woman took my comment didn’t start things off good. Looks like I’m back to the company of me, myself, and I on this beautiful day. Just a few hours ago I was happy to have some alone time, but after meeting this mystery woman (whose name I still don’t know) I feel a little lonely standing out here on my own.

Time to make my way back to town and hit up the market once more. Maybe this time I’ll get a name.

Walking into the market, the bell on the door dings, alerting everyone in the store that the new guy in town just walked in. I can see the looks I’m getting. I should just hop on my bike and keep driving until I find a place that has people in it who mind their own business. Only problem with that plan is this woman I can’t get out of my mind is in this town. No woman has ever stood up to me before and I think that’s why I’m so intrigued by her. All I have to do now is make her realize I’m not the ass she thinks I am.

“Well if it isn’t you again. Never did get your name, son,” the woman from earlier says.

“Hello again, names Tatum. Listen, earlier you sent me on a wild goose chase to find a potential employer.”

“Yes! Did you find her? Isn’t she wonderful? She is so busy she could really use some help,” Botox lady spoke up. Man, I really need to start learning people’s names.

“Yea well, about that… I, uh, kind of messed up the initial meeting and she thought I was hitting on her. Got all upset, actually got kind of feisty, then got in her car and drove away. I was wondering if you could send me to her office so I could make it up. I feel kind of like an ass.”

The ladies quickly scribble down an address and hand me the paper. They look a little too excited to be helping me, but I guess there isn’t much excitement in small town life. Once I have the paper in hand, the younger looking of the two ladies hands me a Reese’s.

“It’s her favorite. Can’t go wrong there. My name is Alex, and this is Betty. Good luck.” Then she winks at me. I’ve never been more grateful to be handed candy in my life.

Walking out to my bike, I enter the address into my phone and buckle my helmet. It’s amazing how much can change so fast.

Following the route on my phone, I find myself in front of a tiny little storefront filled with black and white drapes and photos intertwined in them. First look tells me I’ve hit the right place. It also tells me I’m in for a world of change as this seems to be a photographer’s studio.

I have nothing against photography, but with all of the digital cameras and photo editing software, who actually pays someone to take pictures anymore? It seems like a dead end job to me. Photography should be a hobby. Who in their right mind would start a studio in such a small town and hope for it to succeed? This is the correct address, however, so either way it’s time to get this show on the road.

Walking up to the door, I twist the old style doorknob and enter. It’s cool in here, with a faint fragranced scent to the air. There is country music coming from a back room somewhere, but no one in sight. I ding the bell on the front counter and look around.

Standing in the front room alone, I decide to take a look at the binders and books on the display tables. All full of very beautiful pictures. I have never seen images as ordinary as a tricycle portrayed in such an emotional manner. All of the photos seem to have a story behind them. Wow, maybe this chick is better than I’m giving her credit for.

Molly

The meeting was short. Apparently Mr. Delany enjoyed my previous wedding shots in my portfolio and bought the largest package I have available without having to talk him into it. I may have fibbed a smidgen saying I had help for the wedding, but by the time his daughter’s wedding comes around next year I’ll have someone helping me. I have to, I don’t have a choice.

This isn’t going to be any ordinary wedding. The Delany’s are a very powerful family and don’t do anything half-assed. They also like to do things that may or may not be illegal in almost all 50 states, but no one questions them in this area, and I’m not about to start. Some say it’s because they’re the Midwest mafia. All I know is that money talks and the $25,000 package they’ve just purchased is telling me not to worry about anything other than keeping the job and capturing the best pictures possible.

Now here I sit in my darkroom, country music blaring, singing to myself while my photos develop. Even though Evie told me on many occasions to tear out the darkroom because it would be a great area for another studio, or even more space for another conference room, I can’t bring myself to get rid of it. There’s something about watching the photo that you took being developed and finished and knowing that from start to end, you were the cause of it. Though I do use digital for my professional shots, I tend to stick with film for personal use. From rolling the film, to developing it, to creating the pictures… I am the sole purpose that these works of art exist. I love this feeling.

Setting the canister of developer down to soak for a few minutes, I walk out front to grab my water and check messages. I know he’s here before I see him. That damn smell of his is intoxicating. I just want to snuggle into his chest and take a good sniff. Well, that among other things.

“Well hello again, stranger,” I say to him, startling him and making him drop the photo book he’s looking at. The air of confidence he normally wears momentarily slips as he quickly turns to look at me with wide eyes. A grin sweeps across chiseled features.

“Molly.” He smiles and nods his head gently, putting his hands in his jean pockets and not taking his eyes off me.

All it takes is one word and I’m jelly. His scent, mixed with hi heavenly features is enough to make a girl lose her panties in no time.

Jesus, I need to watch myself with this one.

“Hello. Tatum, is it? What can I do for you?” I ask trying to mask my lusting for him through professionalism and grace.

Trying. I never said I was doing it right.

“I feel the need to explain myself and apologize. Earlier I was very vague and you may have gotten the wrong idea. I heard you were in need of help with your business. The ladies at the shop told me I’d be the perfect fit for the job, but as I look around I’m not sure I know anything about it. What’s this job they told me about? Or were they just pulling my chain, trying to play match maker? Oh, and here, they told me to bring you this.” He hands me a peanut butter cup, my one candy weakness. Sneaky, sneaky Betty.

As much as I want to turn him away and tell him I don’t need help, he’s the only person looking for a job that’s crossed my doorstep since Evie left. And now more than ever I need a helper since I finalized the plans for the Delany wedding.

“Well, as a matter of fact I’m looking for an assistant. The job would be coming to all shoots with me, aiding me in whatever props or lighting I need, and helping position people to get just the right shot. Think you are up for it, big guy?” Trying to sound like I couldn’t care less if he takes the job, my inner, very voluptuous self is jumping up and down screaming for him to take it. She really wants to get to know him on a more personal, intimate level. I on the other hand have to hold back every feeling I may have for this beautiful specimen. No way am I getting involved with someone so beautiful. Not happening. They always bring around too much trouble and I have enough of that as it is.

“I may just do that. I will have you know that I know nothing about cameras, but I can take orders just like the best of them. I think I’m perfect for you.” He smiles the broadest smile I’ve ever seen him smile.

Yes. You look like you are.

“Great, well then I guess we should get started. Give me one second, I need to run back to the darkroom and finish up something I was working on.” Maybe if I get away from him for a while I can compose my thoughts, since they’re jumping all over the place. Once second I’m telling myself not to be attracted to him, the next my panties are being soaked by his deep southern drawl and delicious smell.

“I’ve never seen a darkroom in use before, mind if I join you?” Of course he asks that.

My darkroom is tiny. On a good day, E and I could work together in here and only bump into each other a couple times. I’m thrilled that he wants to start learning the trade this soon, but seriously, the dark room?! So dark, so close, maybe this isn’t a great idea. Nevertheless, he’s asked so nicely… and he smells so yummy.

“Sure thing, follow me.” What am I doing? This can’t lead anywhere good.

He follows me to the back of the studio where my tiny, one-man dark room is hidden. Taking turns going through the light-safe revolving door, I go first and grab my film canister to finalize processing my film. Whipping around to grab my last chemical, I slam straight into the hardest chest I’ve ever felt.

“Easy there,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper and more serious than in the light. His hands gently hold on to my upper arms, sending chills through my body. How can I have such a reaction to a man I just met?

“Sorry,” I manage, captivated by the red glow on his face from the only light in the room. His eyes are so damn entrancing. Why does he have to be so beautiful? And why does he have to be staring at me the same way I’m staring at him?

“So, uh, let me get this going, then I’ll show you around,” I’m able to stutter out. Being around this man makes me unable to speak correctly, I’m sure of it. I need to get over this if he is going to work with me daily.

He smiles and backs up as much as he can. I’m more nervous knowing his eyes are watching my every move and I’m not sure if he’s watching to learn about film development, or watching as a hunter stalking his prey. I feel like the second is the better description of how his gaze is following me around the room, and that makes my insides warmer than they’ve been in a long time.

After the film is done, I lay it out to dry and show him the enlarger I use to make my prints. I explain certain technical aspects of a darkroom that he’s never heard of, and give him an example of how to make a print from the start. He’s very attentive through the whole thing and when I finish the print and hang it to dry, he finally speaks.

“Molly, I have to say, I never have had much of a respect for photographers. After watching you create such a beautiful picture from scratch, I feel completely different about your line of work. Well done, and thank you.” His voice is rough, his eyes hold on to mine with every word.

I’m speechless. That was amazing.

“Welcome, now let’s get your paperwork done. I have somewhere I need to be tonight.” Like out of your stare and alone with my thoughts for a while. That and a bottle of wine.