Black & White (Picture Perfect #1) (9 page)

Thankfully, both men ignored the comment. The picture which had captured William's attention drew my notice, a new thought occurring to me. Where was Angel's mother? I had never met the woman, but obviously, she had to be somewhere. It's very rare for a mother not to show for their child's photo shoot.

My thought process suddenly did a complete turnaround, as I realized this whole scenario was wrong. My behavior was deplorable. William had a daughter who had a mother, William's significant other. I couldn't allow myself these feelings for him. They had to be fought and smashed into the dirt.
I am Elizabeth Diane Huntley, confirmed bachelorette, and I am not falling for a potentially married man.
Sighing to myself, something deep inside told me I was in terrible trouble.

Chapter Six

William

My arms wrap tighter around my beautiful wife, reveling in her warmth. My favorite time of day with her is early morning. The peaceful look on her face, as she awakens from her beautiful dreams is intoxicating. The simple smile playing on her full lips begs for them to be kissed.

I lean in and gently press my lips against hers, breathing in her heavenly scent. She has that ever present smile, and I'm loving every moment of my bliss. She's my world. I never want to sleep; I don't want to miss a moment of my life with her.

She stiffens and pulls back from me, a mixture of shock and joy on her face as she slowly lowers her eyes to her swollen abdomen. My gaze slowly follow hers as she places her hand over her stomach.

"It's time."

My eyes flew open, tears running freely down my face. The same beautiful dream every night left me in shattered ruins the following morning. I'm nothing without her. I walk through my day, an empty shell of the man I used to be. She was the reason my life was shining so brightly. All day, every day, all I wanted was to get home and be with her. She was my motivation, my inspiration. She gave me everything I needed. Now, I'm just a book without a story.

The sound of a cry from the crib was the only reason I was still here.
She needed me. I'm all this innocent child had in the world. She was the living proof that my true love had ever existed. She was the only link I had to my past. The most beautiful gift my wife had given me, and I was the only one able to enjoy it.

I crawled out of bed and stepped over to the crib, lifting Angel out. "Good morning, Daddy's little angel." The sight of her little face brought a smile to my face.

Carrying her over to the change table, I prepare her for the day ahead. I changed her diaper, which did nothing to diminish her wail. She was demanding, and very impatient this morning. Leaving her in just the diaper, I cradled her to my chest, leaving the bedroom and heading down the hallway to the kitchen. I was grateful to my parents for giving me the master bedroom on the main floor. It made things so much more convenient for Angel's feedings when she was younger. It made everything more convenient.

No sooner had I entered the kitchen, then all my parental rights to my daughter were stolen away from me. My mother scooped Angel into her arms, nodding her head towards the coffeepot on the counter. "Good morning, Angelina." She tickled Angel’s tummy.

"Mom, she needs her breakfast."

"William, I managed to raise both you and Anne without causing you any damage. I think I know how to take care of my sweet little granddaughter," my mother argued jokingly. She turned her attention back to Angel, blowing a raspberry on her cheek. "Daddy's a scatterbrain. Do you know what that is, baby girl?"

"Emma, I doubt the child will answer you," my father interjected. He sat at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper.

My parents were the practical types. Neither of them sugar-coated anything and definitely stated the obvious. It was the reason I loved them. They had tried so hard to keep me from falling into a canyon of depression when Angel was born; unfortunately, they’d tried and failed.

"Of course she can't answer me, Winston, but she knows exactly what I'm saying. Angel understands far more than you realize." Mom walked to the counter, retrieving Angel's breakfast from the cupboard. I had to admit, she was a natural. She handled everything Angel needed flawlessly.

"Mom, she's just a baby," Anne said with a sigh.

It was a wonder that anyone bothered arguing with Mom. I grabbed a coffee mug and sat at the table, inhaling the aroma.

"It doesn't matter, she's intelligent and I know she understands." Mom stated.

"So, Mom said you saw a few of the pictures Beth took for you?" Anne questioned, turning her attention to me after giving up on the unwinnable argument with Mom.

I took a deep breath, hoping Anne wasn't going to start this again. "Yeah, the new foreman is her brother."

"Okay, and..." Anne wasn’t subtle about pushing for more information.

"There are a few nice shots," I added.

"Details, William. More than one sentence answers would be nice," Anne huffed. "How did you end up looking at the pictures?"

"Anne." Dad’s warning came from behind the newspaper.

"What? I'm allowed to be curious, aren't I?" Anne countered. Her curiosity usually meant she was scheming. I knew what she was doing and didn't like it.

"I guess Wyatt and Beth had already planned on going to lunch, and he invited me. She showed me the pictures there, at the diner," I answered. It didn't seem like that big of a deal. Well, it was a big deal, but I didn't need my nosy sister knowing about that.

"When will we see these pictures, William?" Dad asked, glancing up from the paper. He had a way of distracting and diffusing difficult situations.

"The appointment is later today, I'll find out then." I walked towards the sink, disposing of the coffee mug. "I have to get ready for work."

"I thought you didn't work Saturdays?" Mom asked.

"Michael asked me to help him out, so I'm kinda working." I kissed Angel on the forehead, running my hand over her downy curls. "I love you, Daddy's angel."

"But, William, Angel sees so little of you as it is," Mom protested.

"Mom, I need to work. I have bills to pay," I countered, turning to leave the kitchen. Mom worried about me constantly, approaching her worry from a different angle each time she started to fret.

"Get dressed in the bathroom, and I'll pack you a change of clothes." Anne offered.

I narrow my eyes at her. "Why?"

"Come on, William. Don't you think it would be polite to go to the studio at least resembling a human being?" Her logic was reasonable, but I wondered why it mattered to much to her?

"Fine, but I don't see why it makes a difference. Beth's seen me in my work clothes before," I argued.

"It just does," Anne retorted. She was scheming about something, I only wondered what it was and why. With Anne, there was never an easy way out. If she had a plan, whatever it was, it would have to run its course before she’d be satisfied.

~~~~~~~~~~

I walked into the office, searching for Mike. Of course, he was sitting at the computer, double checking the blueprints.

Most people would think that's all he ever did. Mike, however, wasn't your typical boss. His overalls were covered in dust and mud. He was a rugged guy, despite his size. He was always working behind the scenes, finishing up the little things which others took for granted. Mike cleaned up the job site, helping to save the project money, instead of hiring a laborer. He was good at his job, and never seemed to falter.

"Hey, Mike. Mind if I use the other room to change?" I asked.

He pointed to the second room of the trailer. "Help yourself. Why are you changing, anyways?" he asked, swinging around on the office chair to watch me.

"Your wife insisted on me looking human for my appointment with Beth," I answered with a roll of my eyes.

"Yeah, well, your little sister never insists on anything without a reason, so spill."

"I don't know, Mike. She's been acting weird ever since the photo shoot. What's up with her? She must've told you something." This conversation wasn't going to answer anything and I knew it. Even if Mike knew something, he'd never double-cross his wife.

"Honestly, I have no idea, William, but she
is
up to something, and I have a feeling you're at the center of it. I feel sorry for you." Mike gave me a sympathetic look.

"I wish people would stop feeling sorry for me." I headed into the back room to change.

"That's not what I meant, William," Mike called.

"I know, Mike.” I sighed, closing the door. “I'm just getting tired of hearing those words."

Up until a week ago, I thought I knew what my life involved; work and Angel. Angelina was gone and I was on my own now – all the grieving in the world wouldn’t change a thing.

Now things were different. Beth Huntley had shown me a little compassion. She knew something was wrong and hadn't treated me as if I was as fragile as a glass house. Instead, she’d walked around, rearranging the furniture. She had given me a ray of hope, but I’d made sure not to show it in her presence. She didn't deserve to be brought down because of me.

I thought back to the first day I’d met Beth. There was something about her and her attitude towards me. She knew something wasn't right, but instead of being sad and treating me with kid gloves, she’d been quietly compassionate. The look on her face confirmed she’d sensed that spark between us, just as much as I had. I’d felt more alive when I was touching her, than I had in a long time. She was solely responsible for allowing me to see the light; in her presence, the world didn’t seem so dark.

The consultation had been so much more than I’d been expecting. Walking in to find her curled up on the floor had given me the sudden urge to hold and protect her. The fleeting notion hadn’t lasted long, as she’d rebounded so quickly. I admired her because she was independent and free. It made me long to have my own life back.

When she’d taken my hand for a second time, the same connection was there again. Things seemed so natural with her. She’d been so carefree, until we sat down to talk about the shoot, and then her professionalism had taken over. It was nice not being treated like an idiot about what I was getting into. Her patience while explaining the process was astounding.

The photo shoot, hell, I still don't know what happened there. We had both been in a place which was passionate to us both. She had her photography and I had Angel. It had been the only time since we met, when both of us had completely dropped our protective walls.

Having lived behind a wall for a while now, it was easy to recognize it in others. I doubted anyone even realized Beth lived with a barrier around her, not when faced with her openness and zest for life, but it was there. For some bizarre reason, I wanted to help her tear it down and step through. There was something about her, which made me want to teach her how to be happy and carefree. A woman like Beth wasn't meant to hide in the shadows.

Lunch with her and Wyatt had been strange. The photo she’d shown me of Angel had been surreal; my little Angel looked so much like her mother. Those eyes of hers would always reflect Angelina's radiant beauty. As I stared at the photo, my heart was broken, but it also soared to the sun and back. I’d felt so torn, wanting to smile and cry at the same time.

That's the point where things got crazy. Beth's hand settled on my leg. I still couldn't get the memory of the warmth of her hand out of my head. The same perplexing connection between us had been there again. It felt right - no - perfect. I wanted to hold her and feel the energy flow through my whole body. It wasn't right to give Beth mixed signals though, so I’d kept my reaction carefully neutral. She was so full of life, I knew she didn't deserve to be stuck with a man like me, but the idea of exploring a relationship with her was exhilarating. I was really confused about the whole situation.

I carefully tucked my errant thoughts away as I walked into the studio. Beth, in all her beauty, was standing behind the counter, talking to a finely-dressed woman with pitch black hair which was pulled back in a tight bun, and a clutch purse in her hand.

"I'll be right with you, William." A warm smile lit up her face as she acknowledged my presence.

My heart skipped a beat and I cursed myself for reacting like a teenager. I nodded and strolled across  to examine the pictures on the walls, hiding the heat which was creeping up my cheeks. I listened in on her conversation with the woman, relishing in the musical notes in her voice.

"...with the green screen we can add any background you want."

"So, what you're telling me is the water won't look fake or two-dimensional?"

"No, not at all. However, I would still suggest we take the photos in the real setting."

"The lake air doesn't agree with me. I want it done this way," the woman argued.

"Of course, that's fine, I have the appropriate programs to work with here in the studio, Mrs. Murphy." There was a note of dissatisfaction in Beth’s voice, despite her pleasant response.

“Excellent. Now I have available time next Tuesday for the photo shoot," Mrs. Murphy stated.

"I would like to do a consultation first. We have some things to discuss before the actual shoot," Beth countered politely.

"I don't need any of that nonsense. I'll wear a bathing suit and pose on a rock. Other than that, I don’t believe we have anything else to discuss."

"All right,” Beth agreed with a sigh. “Let me see what time I have available on Tuesday." Chancing a glance, I saw Beth's face was tight with tension. The banging of the mouse on the counter confirmed how frustrated she was. "Will 10AM work for you, Mrs. Murphy?"

Her voice was filled with an equal mix of professionalism and annoyance. Couldn't Mrs. Murphy understand what she was doing to Beth, or did her lack of manners mean she didn't care? How could anyone treat Beth that way? Her passion for her craft shouldn't be beaten down by bossy clients who didn't have a clue what they were talking about. I quickly turned back to the picture on the wall, not wanting to be rudely eavesdropping.