Page 23 of Jace
Jace keeps trying to usher her back. “Yeah, uh… Just let me get your special order. It’s downstairs, and?—”
But Wren’s a tiny force. “Boudoir shots? Tell me more.” She darts under Jace’s arm. “And you’re Vivian, right?”
“Yes, Vivian Tate.” I step over the box, striding her way. Though Jace is acting weird, I’m professional. My hand is already outstretched, ready to greet her. “Nice to meet you again, and yeah… I’m the photographer. Would you like to know more about my?—”
She shakes my hand. “Yes, I’d?—”
“No!” But Jace interrupts again, gritting out. “Mrs.Rutledge was justleaving. To godownstairs. To pick up herqueeningthrone and thenskedaddle.”
“Skedaddle?” Wren flits her hand at Jace. “No, we’re fine.”
Sire chuckles with a rumble. “Angel, I think we need to take the hint.”
What hint?
Why is Jace acting so weird with these customers? Why is he so amused, yet annoyed by the spriteliest woman I’ve ever met? God, I’d love to do a session with her. She’s fearless, flawless, and funny.
“Exactly! You call meAngel. And Vivian has angel wings. Look!” Wren points to the open box on the floor before marchingover to poke Jace’s mammoth chest. “It’s a sign. Vivian isperfect.”
Do they know each other?
I’m trained to notice, to focus, to zoom in and capture what’s there. And clearly, what’s there is a powerful energy binding these three together.
Oh my god.
It’s almost the same energy I get whenever Jace is around Nash and Vale.
It’s not sexual, it’s sensual. It’s not lewd, it’s loving. It’s like a sultry, silent secret hiding in plain sight.
It’s what I sense. I’m an empath. It’s frustrating when I’m in pain; I can’t fight my tears. But it makes me a better artist, using it as a strength for my photography. I can feel my subject’s emotions. I’m sensitive to their story. I can intuit things the naked eye can’t see, but my lens can.
And I can’t deny that I’m curious to know if they’ve ever been together. These three: Jace with Wren and Sire, or Jace with Nash and Vale.
And I can’t deny thatthatimage only draws me in, while the thought of Jace with just another woman fills me with dread.
I’m waiting for the day when Jace reveals he’s seeing someone beautiful, someone perfect for him. When he’s beaming and in love with another woman, and I’m breaking into a million invisible pieces.
I have no right to claim him. No right to be jealous. No logical reason to expect him not to find someone else because we can’t be together. We’re just friends.
I want Jace to be happy.
I just wish it could be with me.
“Vivian’s very busy.” Jace sounds so serious, but Wren won’t stop batting her lashes at him. “She’s already booked for the year, and?—”
“Hey!” Another woman’s voice calls out. “How can I help?”
It’s Vale. She seems breathless. As if she just ran upstairs to intercept whateverthisis.
“Can you please help the pastor and hiswife?” Jace grumbles. “They were justleaving.”
“No, we weren’t.” Wren aims her beaming smile at me. “We just metVivian,and?—”
“And come with me. They need… uh, more time.” Gently, Vale tugs Wren’s arm, gushing, “You’re going to love your queening chair. Talk about pussy worship. Nash loves ours, and…”
Their voices fade as Vale leads Wren and Sire downstairs, and Jace turns back to me. “Sorry about that. They’reveryeager customers.”
He’s cute.
