Chapter Seven - First Glimpse

I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my gut and a headache that had me crawling to the nearest Advil. I hadn't realized I consumed so much alcohol last night. It was either that or I was dreading initiating "The Wedding Issue" today. I tried keeping a positive attitude towards it, but I just couldn't ditch the habit of expecting the worst, especially on a day like today. Getting out of bed seemed like such an impossible mission, but as soon as the Advil kicked in I managed to get on my feet and wobbled to the bathroom.

I looked like shit. My eyes were so blood red it looked like I haven't slept for days and that I had been consuming something seriously illegal. I'm going to have to use an extra layer of concealer to hide the dark circles around my eyes. I must've not slept as much as I thought I needed. I tossed and turned most of the night, leaving my hair looking like an untrimmed bush.

Nothing that a cold shower and a Cup of Joe couldn't fix, I decided to tell myself.

I regretted leaving my father without personally letting him know I was leaving, so I left him a sincere apology on his machine. I figured he'd still be out romancing Selena in one of his many charming ways since he didn't answer his cell. He was such a hopeless romantic, and I inherited nothing of that trait.

I didn't feel like jogging today, so I opted for a Mochaccino on the balcony and listening to the morning rush of Manhattan. I never minded the noise. The cars honking, pets barking, people talking loudly on their cellphones and the general New York traffic didn't really bother me. In fact, I dwelled in it. It was lively and empowering. If you listen carefully, you just might hear the symphony of New York playing through the streets. If you listened with your heart, you'll know that you share just as much troubles and worries with the rest of the world. You also share its happiness, success, and most importantly, the reason behind every adventure.

If anything, with all its history, the world knows, understands, forgives, punishes, rewards and teaches you everything you need to survive. My world happens to lie in New York.

Today, I had to power through, put on a brave face and give women an issue to die for.

But just as I had to be mentally prepared for the process, I had to be physically prepared as well. So, I drew a bath, fully aware that I'll be late for work.

It was a good thing I run the show.

The scents of cinnamon and vanilla were a toxic yet relaxing combination. The bath salts left a tingling sensation all over my body as they were effervescing. The warm water made every tense muscle relax at will. It was a physical journey of utmost mirth, and I enjoyed every lively moment of it. For a moment there, I had forgotten all about the dreadful day ahead and slipped into an ecstatic trance of unlikely relaxation. I lost track of space and time; maybe I was high on something.

When I decided I had enough, I got out, dried my now manageable hair and lifted it up in my casual pony-tail, got dressed and went down to find my shiny, black Merc waiting for me.

Benji never complained about my being unfashionably late, and I silently thanked him for it.

He handed me my latte and muffin, but I had lost my appetite for some reason, so I kept them aside.

'Did I get the wrong order?', he asked, concerned.

'No, dear. My appetite simply failed me this morning.'

'Is everything okay?'

I wasn't sure how to answer his question. I decided to dance around the bush.

'You know how it is with the beginning of every issue. Stress, stress, stress!'

He didn't push further into the topic, and I enjoyed the quiet ride to work.

It was all work and no play today at the office. Everyone was buzzing around with papers flying and heads shaking and angry gestures. I've never seen my dream weavers look so overworked. It was a shock, yet reassuring to know I wasn't alone.

'If you are a minute late, I swear I will have your balls for dinner', Madison said angrily over the phone.

Wow.

I've never seen her so worked-up.

Ever!

She was all business and dressed the part too. I was quite surprised by the transformation before my eyes. The plaid skirt and knee-length socks were no more, and instead she wore a fitting pant-suit and her hair was in a classy, messy bun instead of flowing around her chubby face like a curtain.

'What's going on?', I asked both her and Monica.

I was secretly enjoying the mess they seem to be under. I was trying very hard not to laugh. They both had frantic looks on their faces; like they couldn't wait for this nightmare to be finally over. My day was starting to pick up.

'Everything is fine. Just go to your office and I'll send in your tea in a minute', Monica tried to cover the panic in her voice.

She was clearly terrible at it.

'You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me exactly what's going on or I'm calling this entire operation off', the boss in me let out her claws, plus I really did enjoy seeing them like this.

They both stared at each other alarmed, but none uttered a word.

'Twenty-nine... twenty-eight... twenty...'

'The photographer's running a bit late. He's stuck in traffic', Madison couldn't hold her own.

'Madison!', Monica yelled.

'I get nervous when people countdown', she whimpered as she adjusted her glasses.

I noticed that it was a nervous habit of hers. It was very cute.

'Just let him in as soon as he gets here', I finally said to get them out of their misery and went into my office.

The both of them followed with a stack of papers and some sticky notes.

'These are some articles and ideas the dream weavers put together that require your attention. The ones at the top are the ones Madison and I think work best, but you can also look at the ones on the bottom if you like', Monica said as she placed the stack on my desk.

'I'll go over them then declare a meeting once I'm done.'

'Your dad called and said that he had a wonderful time last night and he couldn't wait to tell you about it over dinner tonight at Per Se', Madison said.

'Alright, let Benji know about that.'

'Your mom called too and she was wondering if you were free tonight to meet her for dinner', she added.

'Clearly, I'm not', I said with a bitter taste in my mouth.

'Do you want me to call her back and reschedule?', she asked.

'No, she will get the message loud and clear this way.'

There was an awkward silence that followed. They were silently judging me about how I treated my mother. I could almost hear their accusing thoughts running through their minds.

'Anything else?', I asked, annoyed.

'No', they said in unison.

'Alright, then. Let me know when the photographer is here', I said, and they took it as their queue to leave.

I went straight to business and went through the stack of papers Monica left behind. There were some pretty interesting ideas in there that could be issued in this edition. I was starting to understand why weddings were a billion dollar industry. There were also a number of things I was completely clueless about like what flowers to pick and what they symbolized and which destinations to choose for your honeymoon and what to do on your bachelorette party. I haven't even thought once about any of these things.

I felt so, very lost.

I hated it.

Ugh!

'The photographer is here', Monica said through the intercom and startled me.

Finally, a distraction, I thought.

'Let him in and send for my green tea', I buzzed her back.

I got on my feet to stretch my legs. Sitting for an hour straight got me stiff.

'Holy shit', a man walked through the door and simply blurted.

I turned around to meet this foul-mouthed creature. I had half the mind to call him a number of things and fire him before even hiring him. What he just did was horrible work etiquette and I had no business entertaining such behavior. The moment I looked at him, however, my anger thawed down.

He had messy, dark hair that gave him the casual bad-boy look. His eyes were hazel and mischief danced between them. A lot of mischief danced between them. His dark, bushy brows and lashes only made his eyes pop even more. His lips were voluptuous and naturally pink. He dressed groggily in that "I don't care what people say, I dress comfortably" fashion statement. Overall, his appearance was shabby, despite his slender, muscular built. He certainly didn't bother to dress up for the interview.

For some reason, I found him so, very sexy.

At a second inspection I noticed that he seemed familiar. There was something about him that was ringing an alarm in my head, but I just couldn't place where I knew him from. After an awkward moment of silence I decided to break the ice.

'Aren't you charming?', I said sarcastically.

Although, my lady parts had a mind on their own. What the hell was that?

'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that. I just never expected you to be so...'

'Young?', I completed his sentence.

It was a reaction I was very much familiar with. No one ever expects to see a thirty-year-old looking like a twenty-year-old owning and running a company so big and successful. It was one of my favorite compliments.

'Actually, I was going to say beautiful', he corrected me.

I couldn't speak for a few seconds. He took me by surprise. I mean, people tell me I look beautiful all the time. It's just that no one has ever said it so bluntly before. He also didn't seem like the type of guy to pick such a cheesy line.

Why did my face feel so warm all of a sudden?

'If your work is as good as your compliments, then we might do a handsome amount of business together. Please, have a seat', I tried to take back control of the conversation and my body.

He obediently took a seat, though I could tell he felt quite out of place.

'Would you like anything to drink?', I asked out of politeness.

'Some water would be nice', he said as he cleared his throat.

He was nervous. That was a good sign; it showed me that he really was interested in the job.

I buzzed Monica and asked her to fetch us two cups of water.

'So Mr....', I paused, realizing I hadn't quite caught his name.

'Rhodes, Killian Rhodes.'

'Mr. Rhodes, do you have a portfolio on you?', I started to sound professional.

'Yes, I do', he said as he handed me a bulky one.

His fingers slightly brushed against mine as he handed me the book, and he flinched a little bit. I felt it too; that tingle of electricity. I couldn't quite make sense of it. For a second I found it hard to swallow and I felt warm in places. There was a weird moment of déjà vu. I could swear I knew him from some place. He looked at me, curiously. Was he wondering if I felt it too?

Madison came in at this point with the water and my tea, killing the moment of confusion and asked us if we needed anything else. I quickly dismissed her as I didn't want her to affect Killian in any way possible, given that her sister is engaged to him and all. I found myself feeling a bit upset that he was engaged.

Seriously, what the hell was that?

I took the much needed interruption as a cue to examine his pictures intently. They were mostly about people doing day to day activities. He always took the shot from the perfect angle. It was like he could see things through his lens very differently, and his pictures told the whole story.

I was impressed already and he didn't even have to fight for the job.

'Have you ever done a shoot for a magazine before?', I asked to fill in the silence.

'No, I mostly do galleries, private photo-sessions and events every now and then', he said.

'But that doesn't mean that I'm not up for the job because I am totally qualified to do this', he added hurriedly as to not give me any wrong ideas.

I simply nodded, pretending to be aloof.

I noticed he captures a lot of women in his pictures. I couldn't quite gauge whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I went through the pictures for a while. They were all fascinating. I felt like I was watching a play of some sorts and was completely consumed by the unraveling plot.

'Well, Mr. Rhodes, your portfolio is quite impressive, but you need to know that shoots for a magazine are quite demanding and require you to be available around the clock. Is that fine by you?'

'I'll be there as long as you need me', he said quite hurriedly, like he couldn't miss the opportunity.

He should know better than to speak too quickly. It made him look incredibly desperate.

'We are reshooting an entire issue's worth of pictures, as we have changed the theme just yesterday. This issue is going to be our very first wedding issue, so I'll expect nothing less than perfection.'

'And I'll deliver nothing short of that', he spoke quite confidently.

'Are you sure you'll be available on such short notice?', I asked again, making sure he understood the full amount of responsibility and the commitment he was getting himself into.

'I'm sure', he said, in short.

'Have you worked with models before?'

'This will be my first time', he said.

'Well then, you'll have your work cut out for you. What are your compensation needs?'

'Compensation needs?', he looked confused.

'How much money would you like to get paid?', I rephrased.

He looked at me for a moment, clearly calculating the money he needed in his head. He was smart to take his time and didn't jump downright to numbers. Underneath the bad-boy façade, he was a thinker. I wondered if what was underneath that shirt was just as brilliant as what was outside it. I could only imagine what would be underneath his baggy jeans. From the looks of it, he seemed to be the man with the sniper rifle.

'I don't need any monetary compensation', he said slowly, snapping me out of my inappropriate daydream.

I couldn't help but frown and chocked a little on my tea. Clearly with his wedding coming up, he could use all the financial help he could get. Not asking for money was a foolish thing to do.

He confused me.

'Why would you be willing to do something this big pro bono? You can get some serious bucks out of it', I reacted way more than what I normally should have.

'I'd like to receive my compensation in some other way', he continued.

'Other way?', I asked, still frowning.

He leaned forward and his eyes met mine. For some reason beyond my understanding, my stomach tied in knots. I pressed my thighs hardly against each other and my throat went dry. I hated the way my body reacted to his eyes. It's like I had no control over it.

Damn you hazel-eyed sexy creature!

'I want to take pictures of you', he stated firmly.

'Pardon me!', I exclaimed to his bizarre request.