| |
––––––––
––––––––
MELODEE IS IN RARE form today. Even more so than usual. Not that she has an attitude every day at work, but I don’t know her well enough to know what the issue is. She’s been my assistant for the past four years, so I should really know her better than I do. For all I know, she has a rough home-life. Maybe something happened this morning before coming to work. Hell, maybe she just has PMS. No, I won’t go there. My grandmother would smack me upside the head if I went accusing every woman with an attitude of having PMS. But what else am I supposed to think? She’s not usually so short with me.
My phone has been ringing off the hook since I got here today. Usually, Melodee fields my calls. For whatever reason today, she’s sending everything to my desk. Honestly, I’m ready to just send her home for the day. She isn’t doing me much good being here with whatever has her distracted from doing her job.
“Landon, are you listening to me?” Rachel, my realtor asks through the phone.
“Yes. Sorry.” Holding the phone to my ear with one hand, I rest my forehead against the other as my elbow lands on the desk. Today has been a nightmare that I’m anxious to wake up from.
“I was telling you about the offer on the house. It’s full asking price and we’re just waiting for financing to come through. This is good news, Landon.”
“Yes, it is,” I agree. I knew the house was going to sell fast with the price we were asking. As soon as the financing goes through, I can be done with it and officially wash my hands of anything and everything in Independence.
“Okay.” Rachel sighs. “I won’t keep you. I know you have enough going on at work. I’ll send you the details once everything is written up. We should be able to close this sale by the end of the month.”
“Thank you, Rachel.” My forehead hits the desk harder than I meant once the phone is placed back on the base. I’m ready to unplug the thing so I don’t have to talk to anyone else today. I have a million emails sitting in my inbox, because apparently Melodee isn’t fielding those today either, and every time I start trying to work through those my fucking phone rings again. At this point, I should just send her home. She isn’t doing anything for me today anyway.
The phone rings again and I throw my hands in the air in frustration. Ignoring the phone, I stand and walk to my closed door. Pulling it open, I immediately see Melodee leaning back in her chair with her cell phone held in front of her face. Her thumbs are moving across the screen at lightning speed, her brows furrowed in obvious frustration at whatever texts she’s responding to. My blood heats furiously.
“Melodee,” I call out to her, my voice low and full of frustration.
“What?” she snaps back without looking away from her phone.
“What are you doing?” I’m not a helicopter boss. I don’t micromanage my employees like a lot of other bosses do. I like to think I’m lenient on a lot of things and let my employees get away with things they probably wouldn’t anywhere else. But enough is enough.
“Texting.”
“I can see that.” This conversation is getting us nowhere.
Melodee huffs under her breath and tosses her phone onto her desk. “Did you need something?” Seriously?
“Yes.” I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to get some work done but my phone is ringing off the hook. Are you planning on doing some work today?”
“Fine, whatever.” I watch as she scoots her chair closer to her desk and turns on the computer. Obviously, after already being here two hours, she had no intention of getting any work done today if her computer wasn’t even turned on.
Stepping away from the door, I walk across the space separating my office from the reception desk. Leaning forward, I place both palms on her desk and wait for her to make eye contact with me. “Look,” I start when she finally looks up at me. “I don’t know what you have going on today. If you need time off, just let me know. Otherwise, you’re here to work and I expect you to do that.”
“That it?” Moving her gaze back to her computer, she punches in her password to log it in. If she hits the keys any harder, they may end up flying off the keyboard.
“For now.” Standing, I walk back to my office and slam the door shut. Hopefully now my phone will stop ringing long enough for me to get through these fucking emails.
It takes a few hours to get through them all. I work through lunch just to make sure I’m not missing anything important while scrolling through the massive number of messages in my inbox. Several are emails that I’ve been waiting for – permits and things that we need for our next build. After getting them printed out, I stack them on the corner of my desk to wait for Rob to come in to pick them up.
I’ve had enough of today already. Thankfully, my phone finally stopped ringing once I got Melodee to start actually doing her job. I’m anxious to get back home and see what all Emi was able to accomplish today. Looking up at the clock hanging over my office door, I see it’s late enough to cut out for the day.
Standing, I grab my jacket off the back of my chair and toss it over my arm. “I’m leaving for the day,” I announce as I step out of my office. Melodee doesn’t look up, not that I expect her too. But two can play at this game. I don’t say anything else to her before stepping to the elevator.
Once home, I take the elevator up to the top floor from the parking garage. My keys are already in my hand when I step off the elevator in front of my apartment door. I stop moving, cocking my head to the side as I listen to the noise coming from inside. I can hear Emi crying from here and I’m immediately put on alert. Did something happen today?
Throwing the door open, I storm into the apartment ready to fight whatever awaits me. She’s been so happy lately, she’s been healing and is healthier with each passing day. I don’t like the thought of anything setting her back in her recovery. Whatever has happened to her to put her in such despair, we’ll deal with it together. What I don’t expect to see when I step into the living room is her on the floor, on her knees, with picture frames clutched to her chest.
A quick scan of her surroundings shows the boxes from my bedroom closet sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She’s been going through the photos that I brought home from my grandmother’s house. I have no idea what she may have found in the boxes to put her in such a state though.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I’m to her side in two strides before dropping to my knees beside her. “Emi,” I breathe as I reach out and pull the frames from her fisted hands. Setting them on the coffee table face down, I pull her into my chest. She settles against me willingly and my heart bleeds for the pain that’s been caused by whatever she found in the boxes. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, my God,” she sobs against my chest. Her tears soak into my shirt, warming my skin beneath. I run my hand over her head, smoothing her hair away from her tear-soaked cheeks.
Pulling away, I cup her face in my hands and smooth the tears away from her cheeks with my thumbs. “What happened? Why are you crying, Kitten?” I wait several seconds for her to collect her thoughts while my heartrate slows. Now that I know there’s no immediate threat to Emi, I can breathe easier while she calms down enough to talk to me.
“It’s the pictures,” she mutters between sobs. She pulls away from me and I release my hold on her and let her go. My brows lower in confusion while I wait for her to explain. “Where did you get these?” I watch as she reaches out and grabs the frame on the top of the stack of photos. Turning it over so I can see it, she shows me one of the pictures of Independence that I got from my grandmother’s house.
“My grandmother bought them at the library. She had them hanging over the mantel at her house.” I’m still confused about why she would be so heartbroken over seeing these photos and wondering if there’s more to them than I know.
“I can’t believe you have these.” She reaches out and turns over the other two frames. Pushing the boxes to the other side of the coffee table, she sets the pictures side by side and runs her fingers over the glass of each one.
“Emi,” I start as I place my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t understand. Why were you crying?”
She closes her eyes, her hand lying flat over the photo in the middle. Lowering her head, she says, “I took a photography class in high school. It was probably my sophomore year, and I needed an extra class to fill the gap in my schedule. I figured it would be fun to take pictures, maybe join the yearbook committee. The teacher thought I was a natural. She told me I had a good eye and loved the pictures that I would turn in every week.”
I don’t interrupt her when she pauses. Her head shakes slowly side to side before she continues and I’m sure she’s reliving those memories in her mind.
“We had a project at the end of the year as part of a fundraiser for the local library. It was actually that project that made me fall in love with photographing landscapes instead of people. Being able to capture nature in pictures, using the natural lighting instead of relying on artificial lamps and spotlights. I took so many pictures that year. I photographed everything, learning everything I could about setting up the perfect shot. My mother was so proud of what I was doing, she hung just about everything I brought home to her on the walls all over our house.”
I watch as she reaches out and picks up one of the pictures. She holds it in front of her and another tear trails down her cheek. Reaching out slowly, I swipe that tear away and she closes her eyes and presses her face into the palm of my hand.
“Everything is gone now. After my mother died, Charlie went on a warpath and destroyed everything. He took my camera away from me, trashed my laptop while I was at work one day at the diner. I came home one afternoon, and he was drunk and throwing things around the living room. All the pictures on the walls were gone, everything that my mother had framed and displayed proudly. Our family pictures, vacations, those of me growing up.” She shakes her head and pinches her lips between her teeth. “There was nothing left. I ran through the house looking for where they went, even if the frames were broken maybe there would be something left that I could salvage. They were all gone. I have no idea what he ended up doing with everything, but they were nowhere in the house or the garbage cans outside.”
Sitting back on my heels, I fist my hands into my lap and fight to control my breathing. I still don’t understand, though, what these pictures have to do with anything.
“My photography teacher had picked three of my photos to donate to the library’s fundraiser. I didn’t think I’d ever see them again.”
Drawing in a quick breath, my heart practically stops at the realization of what Emi is telling me. “Emi,” I gasp as I reach out and grab one of the pictures from the coffee table.
“These were the photos that she donated. They’re now the only remaining photos that I know of in existence from high school. These are pieces of my past. I can’t believe that you have them.”
And, if that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.
“In a world of billions of people,” I begin, pulling her into my lap and cupping her face in the palms of my hands. “We’ve got the one thing that guides our souls back to each other. That’s destiny, Kitten.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Hell yeah, I do.” Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead softly. “Come on.” Placing my hands on her hips, I help her to stand before following her to my feet. “It’s only right that these should be the first pictures we hang on the wall. Where do you think they should go?”
“Over the mantel.” She reaches down and picks up each of the frames.
“That’s perfect. We need to go to the hardware store. Then we’ll hang them up when we get back.”
“Okay. Can we get a few frames while we’re there?” I watch as she sets the pictures down before walking toward the kitchen. “I printed these today.”
Walking toward her, I look down at the counter at the three photos laying face up. “Holy shit.” I pick up the one closest to me, a beautiful hummingbird caught mid-flight, drinking nectar from a honeysuckle flower. The bird is frozen brilliantly in time, the bright colors of its feathers illuminated in the natural outdoors. Not a single blur to be seen in its quickly flapping wings. “This is amazing.” Holding the photo between two fingers, I look down at the other two. “You took these today?”
“I did.”
One of the photos I know is taken from the rooftop. The other is the front of the apartment building. The way the cars driving past are blurred gives it life like I’ve never imagined before. I have no idea how she got the pictures to turn out the way she did, but her teacher wasn’t lying. She really does have a natural talent for capturing life behind a lens. “These are amazing, Kitten.”
“Thank you.” I watch as she smiles shyly, the blush coloring her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.
Pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I tilt her face to mine and press my lips softly against hers. “You’re amazing.” Her shy smile morphs into one of pure beauty and sunshine. Her angelic features light up so brightly that it will forever be burned into my heart. “Let’s go get some frames.” Standing, I grab her hand in mine and pull her toward the door. “You wanna drive?”
“Yes!” Chuckling I open the door and usher her through before following her to the elevator. We’ll get a few extra frames while we’re out and she can frame and hang as many more pictures as she wants. She can decorate the entire apartment with her photos if she wants to and I won’t stop her. Finally, after living here for four years, the place is finally starting to feel like home. And I have my Kitten to thank for that.