Page 81 of Delicate Storm

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Paige

The next few weeks fly by in a heartbeat with my time spent between preparations for the event and two modeling jobs I’d completely forgotten about. One last week for a swimwear magazine, and the other yesterday and today—a campaign for an up-and-coming designer brand. And God, has this one been fun. There’s a group of us involved, and so far the shoot has taken us to various landmarks around San Francisco. All places I’d planned to visit but never found the time. We’ve already danced on Alcatraz Island, brooded on the tiled steps of 16th Avenue, and casually strolled past the Painted Ladies. Next up, we’re staging a fake runway on the Golden Gate Bridge—which I’m told is going to be wild and windy—and then we’ll end the shoot in a secret location. It’s like a dream. And something I almost turned down.

While we’re waiting for them to set up the bridge runway, I bounce up and down on the spot, trying to keep warm in my skimpy dress. I’m just about to ask for something to cover myself when a warm coat wraps around my shoulders.

“Whoever you are,” I say, assuming it’s someone from the crew, “I love you.”

I turn to find one of my fellow models—a guy from Germany with boyish charm—and smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Ben. You’re a godsend. I wish they’d set up before we got here.”

“I don’t think they were allowed. They’re limited with how much time they get here.”

“That makes sense. It would be fine if it wasn’t so windy.”But I guess I was warned.

Ben nods before stepping in beside me as we watch the traffic driving by. “Want to get a drink after the shoot?” he asks, and while he’s super cute and looks amazing in designer clothes, he’s not really my type. “I think we’re finishing up near the Wharf,” he adds when I turn to face him. “It’s touristy but I know a place.”

“I’ve only been here a few months which I think makes me still half tourist, so I’m game. Who else is coming?” I spin in anticipation to find we’re alone, and when I turn back to face him, he’s gesturing between the two of us.

“Just us,” he confirms.

“Like a date?” A lump forms in my throat and I wish I’d paid more attention to where the other models had gone because when I glance back, I find them huddled under a tent I didn’t even realize they’d erected.Smart.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Ben’s quick to say, perhaps sensing my hesitation. “It can be whatever you want it to be. A drink or two…or something else entirely.”

I smile while an uncomfortable feeling settles low in my stomach. “I’m kind of seeing someone, but a drink would be nice. To new friends.”

His face pulls into the smallest frown before he schools his features and smiles. “Yes. Yes. To new friends.”

“Perfect.”

The runway shoot is even more fun than I thought it would be, despite the wind, and when we’re done, I’m full of giddy excitement for our final destination.

“Okay, everyone, listen up.” The campaign assistant gets our attention while we’re waiting for our transportation to arrive. “We’ve got a short drive and then we’re ending our day with a photo shoot on one of San Francisco’s famous cable cars en route to Fisherman’s Wharf.”

Ben was right.

The fashion designer heading up this new brand was born in San Francisco and wanted to showcase the beauty this city has to offer, while also “pitching it to an international market,” their words not mine. It makes sense that they’d keep the locations iconic, and now I get to cross a lot of tourist attractions off my list, so I can focus on exploring therealSan Francisco, when I have the time.

After we wrap for the day, my new friend Ben is waiting for me, ready to go as planned, and I can’t shake the strange energy coursing through me—as though I’m doing something wrong. But it doesn’t take long for that feeling to dissipate when it's apparent that he took my friendship offer seriously, never even offering to pull out my chair.

Thanks, Dad, for setting that as the standard for how a man should treat a girl.

We’ve been in this cute eclectic bar for a couple of hours now and I’ve got to say, I’m having fun. It’s been a while since I had a drinking session like this and I miss it. I miss letting go.

“So you snuck out in the middle of the night?” I burst out laughing as Ben regales me with stories of his time backpacking around the world before he was discovered in London a couple of years ago, signing with one of the country's top agencies.

“I did.” He chuckles. “But did you really expect me to stay? The guy talked about eating slugs and worms in his sleep. Descriptively.” He pulls a face and I gag.

“Eww. You told me you weren’t going to mention the disgusting things he was dreaming about.”

Ben shrugs. “I lied.”

“Yeah, you did. And ew.” I hide my face as I cringe.

“You said that already.”

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