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Authors: Casey McMillin

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BOOK: Seeing Clearly
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I must have looked a bit stressed because Bailey's voice was soothing as she said, "Aww, no, don't do that. It's a beautiful photograph Mr. Perrin. Really, it's the star of the show."

"Thanks, Bailey, but it's got to come down. Can you just please help me find Ian?"

 

Chapter 9

Gretchen

 

 

Ian Craig was not messing around with this opening. By the time we arrived at nearly eight o'clock the place was teaming with people. Ian was planning on producing a limited number of prints from each of the photos that were on display tonight.

Here's how it was supposed to work: Next to the framed photo, there was a little wooden box that contained fifty plastic chips (that looked a lot like guitar picks). Each chip represented a print, and contained the information necessary for Ian's people to know what you were buying. Once the chips were gone, the photograph was no longer available in any way, shape, or form. It all sounded like a good plan to me until I realized the chips cost two thousand dollars a piece.

"Two thousand dollars for a photograph?" I said, thinking my eyes must be deceiving me.

"Yeah, but they're big, and they're framed, and he's only printing fifty of each." Rachel was just trying to defend his prices since many of the pictures in the show had been taken at her wedding party.

"This one only has twelve left!" Cali said from a few photos down. She and Caleb were making a game of counting how many chips were left in each box to see which ones were the most popular.

"This one's only sold two." Caleb said, putting back the handful of chips he'd been counting. So far the one with only twelve chips left was the most popular by a long shot. Most of the photos had thirty to forty prints remaining.

After a few minutes of the chip counting game, we ran into Zack, one of Collin's teammates who had been
there for a while already. "I'm in the background of one of these photos. It's a good one, I'm totally buying it," Zack said. He pointed toward Rachel and Collin. "You guys are in about five different ones." He motioned to Caleb. "I think you're in one or two." Then Zack's eyes fell on me, and his mouth quirked upward into a sly grin. "You were in one, but it's retired."

"What do you mean
retired
? You mean all sold out?" I asked. I was already nervous about appearing in one of these photos, and his statement was just vague enough to make me antsy.

"Yeah, sold out. Actually, not only is it sold out but they also hung a sheet over it. You can't even
see
it anymore."

"Get out!" I said, pushing at his shoulder. "Is it a picture of my face?"

"I have no idea… I didn't
see
it. It was covered by the time I got here. I just heard about it. Someone said Rachel's old assistant was in the photo that was retired at the beginning of the show. Ian Craig himself came out and covered it with a sheet. It was apparently a dramatic scene. It caused quite a stir."

I smiled at him with skepticism like he was surely joking. I crossed my arms and asked, "Where is this mysterious photograph?"

"Follow me," he said, accepting the challenge to prove what he was saying. Rachel, Collin, Cali, Caleb and I all followed behind Zack. We had to maneuver in a single file line for most of the expedition because of how packed the gallery was. He brought us to the center of the main room where we indeed saw a long white piece of fabric draped over one of the frames.

We all stood around it staring as if we expected the sheet to come off by itself at any moment. I reached out and gr
abbed the bottom edge of the sheet so I could lift it and peek underneath.

"Excuse me ma'am, please don't touch that." The voice came from behind me, startling me. Embarrassed to have been called out
, I quickly let the sheet fall from my hand. I looked around trying to figure out who had said it. A very stern, official looking, middle-aged woman was approaching us. She wore her hair in a tight bun and had on a business suit.  I would not have been surprised to learn that the woman had a gun and a badge somewhere. "This one is strictly off limits. Mr. Craig has retired it completely. You may not view it."

"I'm sorry, it's just that someone told me I was in the picture, so I was curious." I said, feeling a bit like a kindergartner trying to excuse my behavior. The embarrassment I felt at the way I'd been
cowering to this lady made me feel like I needed to add to that statement, "And, don't you think it's a little dramatic to cover it like this and to use the word
retire
? Come on, what's the harm in me taking a little peek?"

"I'm sorry. I've been given strict instructions to guard this photograph."

"
Guard
the photograph?" I asked, incredulous. "You're acting like it's a threat to national security or something."

"My redhead!" Ian's heavily accented voice came from behind us, serving to relieve some of the tension that had begun to develop between the photo
Nazi and myself. I turned toward Ian with relief in my expression as if he would be able to help me talk some sense into the lady. "Oh you should have seen this beautiful photograph," he said as he placed air kisses on my cheeks. "You were
absolutely
the star of the show. Amazing."

"We were just trying to take a look at it," Collin said. He was trying to take a casual approach since he could see I was already on edge.

Ian looked at our group with genuine regret in his eyes. "I am so sorry. But all of the prints have been claimed, and the buyer has purchased all rights to the image. This includes public viewing. This photograph is off limits now." We all stared at Ian with confused faces.
Is it even possible to buy public viewing privileges on a photograph? Anything is possible I guess, but who would want to do that?

"Am I in the picture?" I asked Ian. I was hoping to get at least
that
much information from him.

"Oh yes my dear, you are. It was one of the most exquisite photographs I've ever taken." His expression was tinged with regret as if he were a little disappointed it had to be covered up.

I try to take advantage of that regret by saying, "I'm sure the people who bought the prints won't be upset if you show it to me. I
am
in the picture, after all.

"The prints have all been purchased by one man. He says he just wants this one, though. I told him that was a lot of money for one print. He told me he was buying the rest of them just to make sure he had the only copy. He even paid an additional amount to obtain the exclusive rights to the photograph. I was just about to take it off the wall completely."

This news was all a little too confusing and dramatic for me. I tried to do the math to figure out the cost of such a thing. Who in the mother-scratching world would pay more than a hundred grand for
one
photograph? I was irritated and confused. It would probably not have been a big deal if I didn't know I was in the photograph but I
did
know, and I was so curious I could hardly stand it.

"Who bought the picture?" I asked.

"I did."

I turned, and was face to face with Joel Perrin, confidence and masculinity emanating from him like he was the only man in the room. He was staring at
me with intensity in his eyes, daring me to object to his words.

"Good!" I said, smiling. "Then there will be no problem with me—" I had the bottom of the sheet in my hand and was pulling it up to reveal the photograph underneath when Joel
reached a hand out to stop me. He bowed his head to whisper in my ear and even though his words were soft I was pretty sure the people closest to us could hear him.

"Gretchen, I'll let you see it, but not here. Don't do that."

God Almighty, how mysterious could one photograph get? At this point, I would have done just about anything to catch a glimpse of what was under that sheet."

I whispered back as calmly as I could but I was sure the frustration I was feeling came through in my tone.

"Okay Joel, as I'm sure you can imagine, I'm extremely curious to see what's under here. I'm anxious to see what all the fuss is about. How about I follow you wherever you're going with this thing and I'll take a look at it."

I shot a flabbergasted look to all the people who I'd come in with as I headed off with Joel, Ian and the two goons who were transporting the photo.

They propped the frame, still covered, against the wall in one of the back offices. Everyone left the room except for Joel and myself. This had been built up entirely too much. I gave Joel a wary glance before I turned my attention to pulling the sheet from the frame.

I blinked, unable to believe my eyes. How had Ian managed to capture this moment? It was the most beautiful photograph I'd ever seen and not because I was in it. The passion behind the kiss itself was so undeniable it radiated off the photograph. My green dress against his black suit with the background of colorful glass and mirror was a visual feast, from which I could not tear my gaze. My heart ached to be back in that moment. I ached to be in his arms.

I had to tell myself to keep it together. Had to remind myself that just after this picture was taken I slapped him across the face. Joel Perrin and I would never be together because he thought I was
beneath
him. That thought made me suddenly very thankful that he got this photograph off the gallery floor.

I turn
ed to him with maybe a little too much indifference and said, "It's a good picture, but I'm glad you bought them all. Thanks for doing that." I started to walk around him, intending to leave the room. He grabbed me by the shoulder to stop me.

"Do you want one of the prints?" he asked.

"No," was all I said.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

"Gretchen—"

But I was already walking away. I had to get away from him. He smelled like the woods and his ha
ir was hanging loose like it had been that night in his guesthouse. I was literally vibrating with tension as I walked out of the office and back into the crowded art gallery. He caught me by the arm and spun me around before I was able to make it back into the gallery.

"What?" I asked, irritated.

"What's up with
you
?" he shot back, even more irritated than me. "I thought I did something good by getting the picture off the wall. Or is this about what happened between us the last time we saw each other?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I couldn't stop myself from denying it even though it made me feel like a twelve year old. "It's not about
anything
, Joel. It's just embarrassing that there's a whole audience out there waiting to know what
that
was." I pointed to the office we'd just come from, indicating the photograph.

"Would you rather them see it? Becaus
e I can have it hung back in its spot."

"No. Obviously, no." I considered for a second before I spoke again. "Ian had no way of knowing we weren't together, so it's not his fault." I looked up at him with an impassive stare. "Don't lie though, Joel. You would
not
have it hung up, even if I asked you to."

"Yes I would Gretchen. I'm not ashamed of kissing you. I want to do it again.
If you'd let me, I'd take you out there so our audience can see a reenactment live and in person." He looked at me with such intensity. I knew he meant what he said.

"You know what? I don't think you realize you're doing it, but sometimes you're a real asshole to me." He gave me an injured look, but I just kept right on talking. "You pull me in, making me think you like me a lot, then the second I get too close, you make it clear that I'm not good enough for you."

"I don't see how me having a problem with you getting it on with guys at work is unreasonable. In fact, if you think
that's
bad, wait till you hear this… I'm not even
with
you, and I still have a problem with your occupation. I'd love nothing more than for you to call that place and tell them you're not coming back."

"
That place
," I said, mimicking his distain. "I have a good job, Joel. I'm proud to say I work there. You're already rich, hot, smart, and whatever else… do you really need
more power
in a relationship? Do you need somebody who has no personal goals? Is that what does it for you?"

"No, of course not. I love that you're good at something and passionate about it. You think I'm
insecure
because I don’t want my girlfriend making out with other guys for a living? It's not about insecurity Gretchen, I just
won't have it
. There's no way I'd be able to sit back and watch you with another guy. Hell, I can't even watch it now."

His little speech stunned and confused me. I was all ready to retort with some comeback, but as I
listened to him, all of my anger melted away somehow. I felt a series of emotions too fast and fleeting to decipher them all, but somewhere in there was something close to happiness. I think I was actually happy he was so possessive of me.
What's wrong with me?
I thought.

"I don't know what to tell you, Joel. It seems like we're at an impasse here."

"I don't want it to be like this," he said. "You can't just hate me. We're going to have to see each other. We have to have a plan."

BOOK: Seeing Clearly
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