Black & White (Picture Perfect #1) (5 page)

"Of course, but could you do me one thing, please?" There had to be a way to bring him out of this prison he was trapped in.

"What?"

"Please. call me Beth. Miss Huntley sounds so formal." It was necessary to have a little familiarity with him, if I was going to successfully build a rapport with him for the shoot.

"Okay.” Still nothing, no change to the inflection in his voice.

"Okay... will there be any props you'd like to use?"

"No, Mi... Beth." It seemed he was testing my name, trying to become accustomed to it. His accent made it sound so exotic.

He was a formal type of man, polite and old-fashioned, far beyond what I'd expected despite the obvious English heritage. I marked this insight down on the form, in case it was important information needed for his photo shoot.

"Ummm, William?" From his initial reaction, the subject was going to be touchy, but there was information I needed to know. "The two people in the photo, who are they?"

There was the similar change in him again, but it was just a little different this time. Even as his eyes dropped back to the desk and his body tensed, the ambiance around him seemed to become lighter, more full of life.

"Me and my... Angel... my..." His body shook with quiet sobs.

Reaching across the desk and placing my hand over his, I waited patiently for him to continue. He had disappeared inside himself again. Whoever this Angel was, they were the sole reason for his confused and disconnected emotions. There was something about this person he spoke of, which was both a great joy and deep, saddening sorrow to him.

"I'm sorry, Beth... talking about her... it's..." His voice was so broken, but I could hear hope in his tone.

"It's okay, William." I spoke softly, patiently giving him time to work through his hurricane of emotions.

His eyes met mine again. A small wave of life flowed into the room, like a light breeze on a warm summer's day. The light in his eyes flickered like a small flame, just barely there, under the surface, with a tiny glow.

"My Angel," his voice was forcefully kept steady. "She's my everything, my life. My only reason for living."

Something tugged hard inside my chest. The emotions were stirring beneath the surface of his words. There was love, an undeniable devotion to this 'angel' he spoke of. This wasn't something I was used to dealing with, such open, broken, out of control emotions.

There was a sudden swirl of my own emotions, but they were the total opposite of his. A sadness at the loss of any chances there may have been to be with him.
Wait? What?
I wanted something more than a professional relationship with this man? Where the hell did that come from? When did I, Beth Huntley, confirmed bachelorette, ever feel a want or desire to be
anything
with any man? Especially, a complete and total stranger who obviously had a mountain of issues?

Needing to put an end to my unwanted feelings and thoughts, I mentally shook my head. "Okay, I think I have all the information I need. Do you want to book the date for the shoot?"

I quickly jotted the word 'angel' on the paper and stood up from my chair. Walking to the front desk, I brought up my date planner on the computer. "What day would work for you?"

"I work Monday through Friday most weeks." His voice was dead again.

Waiting a whole week to see this man seemed like torture. I had an overwhelming need to see him again, even if it meant sharing him with his 'angel'. It was all very confusing.

"We could do an evening shoot, if you'd like?"

He stopped to think for a moment before answering. "Sure."

"I have openings all week." The studio normally closed at five, but it didn't mean it couldn't stay open late for one night.

"Would Monday be too soon?"

"Monday will be fine, William." I answered, typing the information into the planner.

Thoughts were swimming around inside my head. Digging myself into a hole of needs and emotions wasn't something I desired in my life, but there was something about this man which had me worshiping him.

Craving that spark, I held my hand out. His hand slipped into mine, and the feeling of being home overwhelmed me. He was drawing me in whether it was wanted or not, making me want to be a part of him.

"Till Monday, Mis... Beth." William responded, struggling to keep to the informality I'd suggested. He removed his hand from mine, far too soon for my liking.

Staring ahead in dazed confusion, William walked out of the studio, but hopefully, not from my life. The studio suddenly felt empty and cold again. The realization of my situation slowly became clear. I wanted... no, I
needed
to know him.

Chapter Three

Beth

Sitting at the kitchen table, the aroma from my second cup of coffee drifted up towards my nostrils. In my opinion, the smell was just as necessary as the actual caffeine. The dark liquid and its magical restorative powers transformed the body; from an unfocused mass, into a functioning individual. The fragrance traveled into my brain, making thoughts coherent and memories distinct.

Flipping through the Sunday paper and finding nothing of interest, I glanced around the kitchen and sighed. After cleaning it three times, mainly to keep my attention focused while I waited on Jude, I found it spotless and there wasn’t a single thing I could do to fill in some time.

Whether that woman liked it or not, we were going to have a serious discussion today. She would no doubt be overjoyed with the topic, since it was about Wyatt. What she wouldn't like, was having this particular conversation with
me
.

I wasn't angry with either of them; on the contrary, I was happy they had gotten together. My best friend, in fact, 'almost' my  sister, was dating my brother. It would bring us all closer together and I was happy about it. What upset me was how long it had taken for her to come clean. What on earth was she afraid of?

Hell, it wasn’t even Jude who had come clean! Wyatt's need to be honest had pushed him into making an uncomfortable public display. Did Jude even realize he’d done it deliberately? Did she realize the lengths Wyatt had gone to, in order to reveal the truth? I was fairly sure she was still clueless.

Jude’s bedroom door opened, dragging me back from my thoughts and I deliberately drew my hand away from the leather cuff, annoyed to find I’d been plucking anxiously at it again. It was a bad habit, something I did whenever I was stressed, or overly anxious about something.  I took another sip of the magic elixir, watching Jude drag herself into the kitchen. She definitely wasn’t a morning person, which was made worse during a hangover.

”So, Judith, I have plans for us, so you need to go get dressed,” I announced.

Jude looked over at me, squinted her eyes and tried to figure out what I was up to.

Come on, Jude, you know what this is about.

She sighed, crossing her arms. “Really, Beth, do we have to do this today?”

“Yup.” She wasn't getting out of it. We needed to have this discussion, to clear the air between us.  And if the fact that I was again fiddling with my wrist cuff was any indication, I certainly needed to get us back on an even path of honesty and full disclosure.

Her chest rose and fell in a heavy huff, as she resigned herself to what she had coming. “What about Wyatt?” Jude asked.

“Oh, I'll get him at some point. I want to deal with you first.”

Jude’s head shot up, as she tried to judge whether I was merely annoyed, or utterly pissed off with them. “Why?”

“Because, as my best friend, you should have been honest with me from the beginning. Now, if you don't mind, I’d like you to get organized. We’re going out so we can have some privacy for this discussion.” I inclined my head towards her bedroom door, where Wyatt was no doubt still laying in the ruins of her bed. I really couldn’t see how the headboard could possibly have survived last night’s workout. I shuddered and sipped my coffee, trying to push
that
mental image back out of my mind.

~~~~~~~~~~

The parking lot was filled to capacity when we arrived at the destination I’d chosen, which meant I was gonna have a harder time doing this than Jude was. Children hadn't crossed my mind when the idea presented itself, I’d merely chosen somewhere which reminded me of old times; one which would remind Jude that first and foremost, she had been my
friend
, before she became Wyatt’s
girlfriend.

There was a spot open near the entrance of the parking lot, which happened to be about a quarter mile from the front door of the indoor mini-golf center. Jude's jaw dropped, and as she turned towards me, her eyes popping out of their sockets. “Are you kidding me?”

“I'm the one who listened to my best friend and my brother banging the headboard against the wall for most of last night,” I answered seriously. It had been so mortifying; I'd resorted to grabbing headphones and blasting music into my eardrums till three in the morning.

Jude's face turned multiple shades of red and she dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, good lord...” she moaned.

“Pretty much what I was saying to myself last night, for the most part. Now, we're going in there and playing a round of golf, and while we’re at it, we’ll be having a friendly discussion,” I announced firmly.

Jude had obviously resigned herself to her fate, when she reached for the door handle.

By the time we got to the front doors, Jude was already suffering. Four inch heels, hard pavement and a quarter mile of walking equaled some fairly severely aching feet. I silently giggled at the thought of what she’d look like after eighteen holes of mini-golf.

Paying for the tickets, Jude took the putters. She glanced around the open area, cringing at the volume of childish noise bouncing off the walls.

“What the hell? There are never this many people here,” she cursed.

Tapping her shoulder, I pointed to the banner hanging on the wall above the cashier. Jude read it, and then covered her face with her hands, pretending to weep.

'Sunday special... 50% off all family one day passes'
was printed in fluorescent yellow. The sign even made me cringe.

Jude's face was serious when she pulled her hands away and I got the distinct impression I wasn't going to like whatever was coming.

“Okay, Beth,” Jude began, ”I'll confess to everything, but we're going to play twenty questions.”

It was my turn to cringe, because Jude knew she had me over a barrel. When I was living in Houston with Mom, Jude had come up with our own version of twenty questions, a way of keeping up-to-date on each other's lives. The rule was, there was no option other than to participate when ‘Twenty Questions’ was invoked by either one of us, and we each took turns, asking a question which the other person had to answer truthfully.  A game which had started in our childhood had continued through to present day, and I knew there was no getting out of it. If I wanted my answers, I had to accept that Jude would get to ask her own questions. I had a sneaking suspicion about what Jude’s subject was going to be.

“Deal,” I finally answered, “but I get the first question.” I picked at the leather cuff on my wrist, already anxious.

“Sounds fair,” Jude agreed, heading towards the first hole. “And leave that damn cuff alone,” she added over her shoulder.

I sidestepped a young child, who was holding a melting ice cream bar. This was beginning to seem more and more likely to have been a very bad idea.

By the time we got to the ninth hole, in fact, it had turned out worse for me than Jude. I’d been hit in the shin by a small child swinging a club; sat on a piece of discarded gum; began suffering the effects of a headache from the noise; and Jude was winning the game. To make matters worse, I hadn’t even asked my first question yet, because I was too concerned about what Jude was going to ask in return.

I motioned towards a little coffee shop called ‘The Halfway Point’. After ordering two black coffees, I sat in the chair across from Jude, carefully checking it for gum before I sat down.

There was no sense in putting this off any longer. ”When did it happen, Jude?”

She must've been prepared for the question, because her answer came immediately. “It took a long time, Beth. We didn't even know anything was happening between us, until the year before you moved back home. Wyatt did as you asked. He watched out for me, protected me while you were in Houston. While he was doing that, things just started to happen. We learned more about each other and it all happened naturally.”

I’d suspected when she came clean, Jude’s response would be something like this. As I’d assumed, it wasn't a recent development, but her admission still surprised me. I’d had no idea that the relationship had been progressing for a long time.

“My turn.” Jude announced, bringing a finger up and tapping it against her lips. “Our new client, explain yourself.”

I shrugged, hopefully nonchalantly. “Explain what?”

“Why did you kick me out of the studio yesterday?” she demanded.

She’d noticed; and now it seemed she was searching for the reason. I slumped back in the seat, sipping my coffee. “Do you remember the first day he came in? There was something... ‘off’ about him. Face it, Jude, he didn't need your over enthusiasm frightening him off.” I knew Jude wouldn't take offense to the suggestion. She was proud of being boisterous and accepted who she was without reservation. Having answered her question, I moved on to my next one, thankful for having gotten away so lightly. “How did you and Wyatt get together?”

Jude seemed to be traveling back in time mentally, her eyes clouding over as she thought. “You asked Wyatt to care for me. You wanted me to be protected by an ‘older brother’ and that's exactly what he did. He never let me down. If I needed a ride, a helping hand in any way, he was there, Beth. He was there every single time. Neither of us realized we were becoming the center of one another's world, not till it had already happened.”

Another predictable answer. It was as if she knew what I was going to ask, before the questions came out of my mouth. Maybe this was why she’d been avoiding the conversation; she'd been preparing her answers.

“What was going on with you last night?” Jude asked, as she tented her hands under her chin.

Last night, how did I explain it? The only thought running through my head for the whole evening, had been William. Trying to make sense of him and how he’d affected my emotions had left me wrapped up in a private bubble, slumped on the couch in the living room. “There's something about him. William's so sad and lost within himself. I just wish I knew why. It was on my mind all night, but I can't answer the question when I don't have the answers myself.” I took a moment to think. “His eyes are so empty, his voice is emotionless. As much as he seems broken, I still see something in him.”

Jude nodded and apparently had decided to forgo the ‘Twenty Question’ part of this conversation, as she began to explain more about her relationship with Wyatt. “When we realized what was happening between us, I swear, we fought against it. We had your best interest at heart, Beth. It's one of the reasons I decided to move to New York with you. It’s one of the reasons I’m a little concerned about you now.”

I knew Jude wanted answers as much as I did and her comment implied she was worried about my reaction to William. She knew me too well, and could tell when something was wrong. There
was
something wrong, but I couldn't understand what it was. Of all the people in the world, Jude knew me best. Maybe
she
could help me understand why I was suddenly interested in someone I didn't know the first thing about.

“Stop doing that, Beth,” Jude said, laying her hands over mine.

I glanced down and realized I was twisting the cuff around my wrist. I sighed heavily. “I don’t know what’s going on, Jude. I really don’t. The two times I've met with William, I've found myself under some sort of spell. I feel... I don't know...
protective
of him, I guess. That's not the right word, but it's the best one I can come up with right now. ”

“He seems so terribly sad, and I have an incredible desire to see a full smile grace his lips.” I shook my head. “Anyway, this is supposed to be about you and my brother, not me. As we’ve apparently given up on ‘Twenty Questions’, how about you explain why you chose to come to New York?”

“Wyatt and I thought we needed the time apart. There were lots of reasons; you were only one of them. I'm your best friend, Beth, and he's your brother. We didn't want things to be weird between the three of us if Wyatt and I eventually broke up.”

It was a valid concern since Jude and I were practically a matched set; we couldn't survive without each other. Jude was right; it would've been devastating if it hadn't worked out between her and Wyatt. How could I have chosen sides?

“So you decided to go to New York?” I prodded.

Jude nodded. “I'd been having second thoughts at the time, about Wyatt. Hell, I was eighteen, how was I supposed to be sure of anything, when I had barely begun to live? Wyatt was twenty-one and had already traveled and done some living. Wyatt was great – when I told him I wasn’t sure, he told me I needed to see if anyone else was out there for me, you know, 'Mr. Right'.” Jude paused, sipping her coffee, her eyes distant for a moment, before she shrugged. “I wasn't sure if I was ready for a lifetime commitment. I needed to find myself, before I knew if I was making the right decisions.”

I shook my head. “Honestly, Jude, the looks you guys give each other are nauseating. It’s those same sort of looks which gave you away years ago. You two are gonna get married, have kids and grow old together.” I truly believed it, they were soul mates, whatever that was. Reaching across the table, I slipped my hand into hers. “You twit, I would've told you that you were making a mistake going to New York. You should've been here making babies with Wyatt.”

Jude shook her head firmly. “That's where you're wrong, Beth. I went to New York because my best friend and I had dreams. We were going to make something of ourselves and we were going to be rich and famous.”