Cajun Vacation (17 page)

***

Peter watched the brunette beauty walk away down the street. He hadn’t expected to ever see her again, but she had come back to confront him in his photo studio. The door clicked shut and he made sure to lock it before going to get a towel, broom, and dustpan.

He’d dated her for only three months and broke it off a week ago, but she didn’t take it very well. Water streaked down the wall where the vase had hit with a larger pool forming on the floor. Glass shards spread in every direction. A flower vase he could handle loosing, if she’d grabbed and thrown one of his very expensive cameras or studio lights, he’d be less forgiving.

Naturally, she said he deserved it.

You’re gay.

It was the same complaint he got from all his girlfriends. He loved wildlife, nature, and the outdoors; but he also photographed landscapes, whether they were in the form of the great outdoors or a woman’s body. Every time he took a picture, he gave his subjects all the artistic care that he could muster. But everyone expected that since he occasionally photographed a naked women or two that he had lots of sex and probably did porn too.

He tossed the towel down on the biggest pool of water and moved it around the floor with his foot. Getting down on his hands and knees would work better, but he was already late for a delivery. Once he got most of the water, he moved on to sweeping the glass.

You never had sex with me. Either you were cheating or you’re gay.

Then she had picked up and thrown one of his flower vases. She’d aimed for his head, but he ducked and it smashed against the wall. It wasn’t fair. He believed in honesty. Right at the beginning, he always told the women he potentially dated that he didn’t play around, and held back from pursuing sex until months into a relationship.

The girls gave him a knowing smile and points for being so chivalrous, but none of them believed him. After all, right on his website, they could see the curves of a woman’s hips, legs, arms, and every other part of her body. Every detail lighted with care and put on display. His photos displayed nothing gratuitous. But his personal reservations about sex didn’t sway anyone. The fact that his female photography was a very tiny part of his business, and one that he didn’t actively promote, didn’t matter.

All everyone noticed was the firm bodies and taut breasts; from that they drew their conclusions on the type of man he was. A player. Someone who loved sex, which he did. But not without a strong commitment. Years ago, he played around. But not now. He had changed that part of his life a long time ago.

If he took down all photographs of woman, and focused on only the outdoors scenery, then his dating life would be so much easier. Girls that valued commitment as much as he did would consider him for dates. Now he couldn’t get within twenty feet of any girl that went to church on more than Christmas and Easter.

He glanced at his phone and cursed. His delivery was already thirty minutes late. He walked to the wastebasket, dumped the glass, and then went over the wrapped, framed photo. The utility dolly sat in the corner where he left it before Kelly arrived. At 2x4 feet the picture was far larger than he could carry without any risk of banging into a door. He unlocked his door and propped it open with a stopper. Then he maneuvered the picture onto the dolly and wheeled it out to his van for delivery. After strapping it down, he locked up and drove to the hotel. He hated being late, especially for as good and loyal a customer the manager had been over the years.

***

Alicia turned over on the lounge chair, looked around for her sisters, and picked up her phone. She had been sunning for over an hour and Sara hadn’t joined her. Erica wouldn’t be done for hours, but making dinner plans shouldn’t have taken Sara this long.

Maybe Sara had decided to try to seduce the celebrity chef herself
.

She laughed at the thought. Sara was many things, but her shy, relatively innocent sister wasn’t any type of seductress. She probably decided to have lunch somewhere in the city. That or she was up in her room bemoaning how her bathing suit didn’t look good on her. Considering how beautiful Sara was, her fear was out of place. But no amount of arguing ever convinced Sara otherwise. She scrolled down her address book for Sara’s name, but instead of dialing, she tossed the phone back into her bag.

Whatever Sara was doing, she could let her have a bit more time to finish before calling. She looked around the pool again. A few new faces had shown up. More than a few had turned their heads to her when she had laughed.
They probably thought they could get a better view of my breasts
.

She swung her legs off the lounge chair, dropped her town onto it, and walked around the pool to the vending machines with a few dollars in her hand. If Erica had to work, and Sara was off doing Lord-knows-what, then she wanted something to eat. A tourist information flyer rack sat next to the vending machines. Rows of pamphlets promoting restaurants, tours, and other attractions filled the rack. She quickly grabbed a few, folded them up, and turned back to the vending machine to make her selection of some chips and water.

“I can’t believe I forgot to bring my own water,” she mumbled to herself. Some of the men quickly turned their heads when she turned back around, but she ignored them as she made her way back to her lounge chair. She tossed the chip bag down. Now that she had them, she didn’t feel hungry.

She could feel the eyes of several of the men crawling over her. Any feeling of excitement she had when men desired her had long since vanished. She wore a bathing suit that screamed for men to watch her, but now that they were, she wanted them to stop. A restlessness and irritability built in her. She tried taking a big gulp of water to wash it away, but it continued to grow. Every time she turned her head, another man turned away. She took her towel and wrapped it around her waist. As soon as she did, she felt better.

It had been a long time since she felt more comfortable with more of herself covered up, but she did. She needed this vacation more than she realized, but didn’t know what she was getting away from back home. Her work seemed stable and money was good. She had all the sex she cared to have and a few good friends. Plus she kept in frequent contact with both Sara and Erica. Even if they couldn’t be together — they called, video chatted, and texted frequently enough that she considered them both close.

She lay back in the lounge chair again and picked up the flyers she had grabbed off the rack. Bicycle tours, bayou tours, culinary tours, and even more tours. If there was anything you wanted to see in New Orleans then there was an organized tour for it. A nighttime bayou tour caught her eye and she decided that this was one she had to do before they left. A sticker on the bottom said they offered discounts if they booked through the hotel. She’d book it for the three of them. That would be her treat for the weekend.

She grabbed her cellphone again and frowned. Where exactly was Sara? Probably still hiding in her room with that bathing suit she hated. Alicia shoved her phone into her bag and gathered her things up. This was a joint trip, not a solo outing, and she wasn’t going to stay by the pool alone. If Sara didn’t want to show herself in a certain bathing suit then the only solution was to go shopping for a new one. A few hours wandering the shops, buying things they didn’t need, and taking in the sights of New Orleans on a beautiful afternoon would perk Sara’s spirits up.

She put her sunglasses back on, tossed her bag over her shoulder, and made her way to the reception counter to ask about the tour discount. Tonight they’d probably eat and drink their way through the evening, but tomorrow night would be free. Just because all three of them needed to take a red eye on Monday morning was no reason not to enjoy their last night to the fullest.

Chapter 23

Peter ran the dust cloth down the edges of the frame a final time and stepped back. He smiled. The picture hung perfectly in the hotel’s lobby. He heard someone stop behind him.

“It’s looks splendid,” said the general manager. “I’ve always loved the look of the French Quarter at night.”

“Well I’m glad you like it,” said Peter.

“Let me know when you get some more work shot. We can’t always buy a portrait like this one, but if we can work out a consignment arrangement then I’d be interested in more. We can use some additional work in our hallways and some other areas,” said the manager.

“It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll send over some additional proofs that you might like and we’ll go from there,” said Peter. “But to close out today. Do you have a check ready or will you be mailing it like last time.”

The manager looked at his watch. “No, the check’s ready today. I wasn’t sure if you’d be done before my meeting with some vendors so I left it at the desk. Just tell them I Ok’d the work.” He held out his hand for a quick goodbye, and then turned and left.

Peter tossed the cloth into a nearby basket and gathered the rest of his tools. He lifted his head when he heard it. The voice echoed through him and he turned his head. Behind him, taking with the desk clerk, stood stunning, red-haired beauty. He couldn’t see much of her face, but from the little he saw, he knew she was gorgeous.

“So it’s only $60 for three with the discount?” she asked, and the clerk nodded. “OK, I’ll book three for tomorrow night.” She pulled out a credit card from her shoulder bag and handed it to the clerk.

Peter slung his own work bag over his shoulder. He needed to speak with the clerk too, so he walked up behind her, hoping for a chance to break in and talk to her. She bent over slightly while she signed her credit slip and a surge of energy passed through him. He couldn’t believe his reaction to her and they hadn’t even met.

“The nighttime bayou tour is one of the most popular in New Orleans. You’ll have a wonderful time,” said the clerk. “You can pick the tickets up today at the dock, or if you prefer, we’ll have them for you here at the desk in the morning.”

He saw his chance. “I’ve gotten some of my best photos from the deck of that boat,” he said. The woman spun around and Peter’s stomach twisted. This woman was more than simply beautiful. He hadn’t felt this way looking at some the first time since…

She stumbled back into the counter. “Ouch,” she said, her hand going to her back.

Peter’s thoughts raced, but he quickly picked out what he hoped was the most appropriate response.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you. But that tour really is amazing.” He pointed to picture he just hung in the lobby. “I actually got that photo over there from the deck of that boat.” He watched her gulp, and then steady herself before tilting her head slightly to look past him to the picture.

“Are you a professional photographer?” she asked.

“My name’s Peter. I have a studio in the city,” he said, and he gestured again to the picture. “Would you like to get a better look?”

She glanced around quickly and then settled her eyes on him. Her smile exposed twin dimples on her freckled cheeks. “I’d love too,” she said, walking beside him to the wall. “Do you sell many portraits to the hotel?”

Peter pulled on his shirt and tried to figure out what exactly he hoped to get from talking with her? She was obviously a tourist, and therefore would be gone in a couple days. It wasn’t like he could start dating her, even though, at least on his end, the chemistry existed. Physically, she had a body that put other woman to shame. If she sat for a photo session, she could charm any camera that he used. But he couldn’t just ask a hotel guest, no matter how friendly or beautiful, to sit for one of his more sensuous photo sessions. If the manager found out he solicited one of his guests, then he might cut Peter off from a crucial sales and referral source. He wouldn’t risk offending anyone by making that kind of offer, but if she asked, then that would be a different situation.

He focused back on her question. “A few, but I might be displaying more in the future. We haven’t worked out the details.

“Well, it’s a beautiful photo. I love how the moon hangs overhead.”

It unnerved and excited him how her eyes never wavered from his when she looked away from the portrait. Most woman that attracted him broke eye contact every now and then. But Alicia didn’t. Her awkward, startled, initial reaction seemed more appropriate for a women with less assurance. But the inconsistency she presented now attracted him further.

He leaned in. “I like photographing beautiful things,” he said.

She turned her head, one corner of her mouth ticking up. “What else to you shoot?” she asked, and then she lifted her sunglasses onto her head.

His breath left him as he stared into the most beautiful set of green eyes. She waited for his answer and he struggled to get control of his thoughts again. He needed to be careful around her. If he didn’t, then he’d end up saying or doing something that he shouldn’t. “I do,” he said, and then he quickly added. “My studio’s not far, if you’d like to go look?”

She bit her lip the second he asked and he regretted mentioning it.

“You’ve got your own plans. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said hoping to salvage the conversation from his own ineptitude.

She placed a hand on his arm and heat flowed into him. “It’s not that,” she said, closing her eyes for a second before she pulled her hand back to her side. “It’s just that I’m with my sisters this weekend. We live so far apart, it’s one of the few times we have together during the year.”

Peter shook his head. “I understand. Have fun with your family. I’m glad you liked the picture,” he said, his stomach twisting in disappointment for missing out on what he didn’t know. He turned to leave before he did anything foolish.

“Wait,” she said, and he stopped. “Where’s your studio. Maybe I can stop by with my sisters. I’m sure they’d like to have a look.”

He didn’t understand what Alicia had done to him in just a few minutes time, but he knew that seeing her again, only to watch her leave, would be even more disappointment that he didn’t want. But he had to tell her where she could find him, if she wanted. He fished in his pocket for one of his cards, and then handed it to her. “It’s not far,” he said. “I hope you can stop by with your sisters.” Then he left, doing his best not to turn back and look at her. At the lobby exit, he gave in and turned. Alicia stood where he left her by the picture, her eyes watching his every step. He exited the hotel. Interrupting her vacation to drop by his studio wouldn’t happen, but before he drove away, he sent up a quick wish that he’d see her again.