Coming of Age (2 page)

At least that’s what she was busy telling herself until he stopped just outside the door to what appeared to be a den or family room. He looked down at her and her heart did a funny little flip.

“I’m so glad to see you, Livi.” His voice was pitched low, an intimate whisper that brought back too many memories for comfort.

“Same here.” It was all she could manage. She wasn’t equipped for this, for the rush of emotions seeing him inspired or for the flood of memories that had her drowning.

What was wrong with her? She was good at containing her emotions and had learned not to let them hamper her, but seeing Max made her feel overwhelmed.

Max gestured toward the door. “Ready?”

“As I’ll get,” she agreed and preceded him into the room.

The reporter, Benjamin, was seated in a leather chair adjacent to the sofa. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost,” he remarked as she and Max entered the room.

“Sorry. Just got the assignment at one this morning.”

“Yeah. Joe was supposed to do it.”

“So what happened?”

“Beats me. Had a text this morning that you were flying in. So, how long will it take you to set up?”

“Not long.” She set down her bags.

“I’ll help,” Max offered and opened one of the bags.

That was the last thing she wanted, but she wasn’t about to protest in front of Ben. She focused on the motions. That was simple enough. She’d done it so many times she could operate on remote control.

What surprised her was how easily Max and she worked together. It was as if a decade of time and a million life experiences had not passed. They fell into sync effortlessly. Too effortlessly.

Watching him sent her careening back into the past, into memories she’d worked hard to forget.

January 2001

Olivia was like most photographers. When it came time to develop film, she didn’t worry about working in darkness. The process was ingrained into her muscle memory as well as it was her mental processes.

She had already developed the photos she took of the shooting in Mint Hill. She did that the moment she and Max returned to the studio since they’d beaten all of the photographers and news crews to the scene. Someone from the local paper had picked up the negatives an hour after they were developed and some of her photos had appeared in the next day’s edition.

Olivia was pleased about that. It had not paid a tremendous amount, but the photo credit beneath the images might be more valuable than the paycheck in the long run.

Now, she wanted to see what Max had shot. He’d seemed a bit hesitant when she mentioned she was going to develop the film after work.

She understood. As a novice, he was probably nervous about her seeing his work, scared that she would think he was no good. She remembered being in those shoes and could also remember vowing that if she was ever in the position to critique someone’s work, she would be fair, but also look for the strengths as much as the weaknesses.

After popping the seal on the canister, she cut off the lead of the film and loaded it into the developing tank reel. She’d already prepared her developer and Blix. She poured the developed into the tank and began the agitation cycle.

As she worked, she thought about Max and the effect he was having on her. She wasn’t entirely comfortable that she couldn’t seem to stop noticing things about him, the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he lifted a box of paper for her, the lean lines of his torso when he wore a fitted shirt, or the way he seemed to look right into her soul when he fixed his eyes on her.

It was disconcerting. She was nearly thirty. The last thing she should be doing was allowing herself to be drawn to a boy who was not yet eighteen. It was embarrassing and yet she couldn’t seem to get beyond it.

Maybe it was a mistake to hire him. He was eager and worked hard, doing anything she asked of him. And he soaked up information like a sponge. He had an eye, as well. Just yesterday, she’d been shooting a woman in her late thirties, and Max noted that if they angled her just a bit more to one side, tilted her chin down, and had her look up at the camera, it gave her a sultry look much like one of the popular television stars.

He definitely had something.

She finished the developing cycle, dumped the used solution back into the developer bottle, and then added the Blix, a bleach and fixer combo, to the tank.

Her thoughts remained on Max. She knew that he was developing a crush on her. It was easy to tell from the way he looked at her, and how eager he was to put in extra hours without pay.

She couldn’t help being flattered. Her social life wasn’t exactly slammed. She’d had five first dates in the last year. None had led to a second date. If she went out at all, it was with her neighbor, Sandy, up the street, a woman her age with three small children and a need for adult company now and then.

Max’s attention was definitely good for her ego and she wondered if that’s all amounted to, her ego being stroked. She almost hoped it was. That was a lot easier to accept than the alternative—that she had a thing for a teenager. That was too embarrassing to contemplate.

She turned her attention back to the task at hand, dumped the Blix, rinsed the film, and then removed it from the tank. After shaking and using a squeegee to remove the excess water, she hung it on the line above the counter to finish drying.

She cleaned up and turned on a dim light to look at the hanging negative strip. One look and she moved closer. The photos were of her. Every one of them. Max had shot her as she was shooting the event.

The most surprising part about that was not that he had photographed her, but how it made her heart beat a little faster.

Suddenly she was faced with the very truth, that no matter what she tried to tell herself, this thing with Max wasn’t just an ego stroking. She was infatuated with him.

The Present

“Wow, you really know your way around a set-up,” Ben commented to Max as he and Olivia finished setting up her slave flashes.

“I worked for a photographer when I was in high school.”

“Really? Is that what got you interested in film?”

Max took a seat on the sofa. Olivia positioned herself so that she could shoot him with the light from the floor to ceiling window falling along the left side of his face.

My god, he’s beautiful
. He had matured better than she had imagined.

“No. I didn’t get interested in film until I went to college.”

Olivia fired a couple of shots, adjusted her settings, and shot a couple more. Max kept his eyes on Ben as he answered questions. Only once did he look up at her and when he did, her finger instinctively pressed the shutter.

What was that she saw on his face, and in his eyes? What had life taught or taken from him since she last saw him? Who had Max become in the twelve years since she’d seen him? Did he still want to see what made people tick? She’d have to see the film that was garnering him so much attention.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, studying his face in the viewfinder that she forgot about Ben. The drone of their voices was like a distant hum. Her entire focus was on what she saw.

When she heard her name, she started and for a moment moved the camera away from her eye. Max looked up at her as he spoke. “Yes, actually we do. Livi is the photographer I worked for when I was in high school.”

Olivia would have been fine with a big hole opening up in the floor and swallowing her. Instead, she had to face Ben when he turned to look at her. “Really? You never said anything about knowing Max Clearman, Olivia.”

She shrugged and raised the camera to her eye again, catching the smile on Max’s face as she shot. “It was a long time ago.”

Ben turned his attention back to Max. “Small world isn’t it. Okay, I have to ask the question everyone’s been asking.”

“What question is that?” Max asked.

“The dedication in your book.” Ben said. “Per the agreement, we were given an advance copy. We’re all dying to know who you wrote that dedication for.”

For the first time since the interview had started, Olivia saw the Max she had known years ago. A look appeared on his face that she recognized. He was uncomfortable and nervous.

She came to his rescue without thinking. “Damn! Battery’s dead,” she spoke loudly enough to draw Ben’s attention. “Sorry. It’ll just take a second.”

She went over to her camera bag and took her time changing out the still fresh battery. She cut a look over her shoulder and her eyes met Max’s. One thing had not changed over the years. Max had always had the most expressive eyes and face of anyone she had ever known. And right now, his expression said “thanks.”

She smiled in reply. What was it about that dedication that made him so nervous?

“Okay, we’re good,” she announced.

Ben started to ask another question, but Max interrupted and started talking about the film he’d directed that was earning one nomination after another and being hailed as the film of the year.

In half an hour, the interview was over. Benjamin’s driver was waiting outside. He had just enough time to get to the airport to make his flight back to New York.

He thanked Max and turned to her. “You want to catch a ride? I’ll have the driver drop me at the airport then take you to your hotel. Where’re you staying?”

Olivia had worked with Ben long enough to know that if she got into the car with him, he’d interrogate her about her relationship with Max. She wasn’t about to let that happen.

“The Weston downtown. But go on, Ben. I still have to pack up and I don’t want to make you late. I’ll call my driver.”

“Okay, see you back at the office. Max? Thanks. This is going to be a great piece.”

“I hope so,” Max said and shook Ben’s hand.

Olivia turned her attention to her phone. She dialed the number the limo service had given her and asked to be picked up as soon as possible. She then turned her attention to packing her equipment.

Max silently helped. Once everything was packed, she lifted the case and hooked the strap over her shoulder. “My driver should be here soon. I’ll just wait outside.”

“Livi, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Act like we’re strangers.”