Page 22 of Passion

The setting they put me in was elegant, a French settee with red velvet cushions and gold gilt framing. A large, deep-pile throw rug beneath the settee was soft, burying my feet in its tendrils, but the best part was the massive painting—a real Degas, long hidden in a museum somewhere but rented and brought out for this shoot.

“Superb job, Vera. We’re done for today.”

I relaxed, my eyes flicking to where my new manager usually stood watching. We’d done several shoots over the past few weeks, one of them getting rained out and rescheduled, but this was the first one he hadn’t attended. Unlike Daven, he paid me only peanuts and liked to micromanage my shoots. I was relieved that he hadn’t come. I felt very ill today and didn’t want to deal with his bossiness too.

Immediately kicking off the offending shoes, I picked them up and carried them to my dressing room. There were a dozen or more staff members floating around, the head of marketing forVogue, and a few people who helped the photographer, but I knew none of them. That was a part I disliked too, that while working for Daven, I had made a few friends. Here, however, shoots were solo, and each client was new—untilVogue.

I shut the door behind me and strolled to my desk where I dropped my earrings—borrowed from Tiffany of London—and shoes. My phone indicated that my mother had tried calling me seven times. I scowled at my phone and unzipped the red-sequined dress. The open back and deep V in the front made me feel like I was already undressed or hadn’t worn anything at all, anyway. I slid the straps off my shoulders and lowered the flimsy thing so I could step out of it, then draped it across the clothing rack.

My feet hurt, and my back too. My day was over, and I wanted to go home, make a cup of soup, and curl up with a good movie. But my phone buzzed and lit up. Mom was calling me again. I knew she’d only continue to call until I answered, so I picked it up and took a deep breath to prepare myself before I put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, Mom.” My bra was buried in my bag beneath my clothes, and I pinched my phone between my shoulder and ear as I dug it out.

“Vera, dear, I’ve been calling all afternoon. Why haven’t you answered?”

“Mom, I’m working. I had a shoot forVoguetoday. Okay?” I attempted to get my bra in place and quickly realized that it would take two hands and no phone at my ear. So, I turned my phone on speaker and laid it on the counter.

“Oh. Well, good for you. I’m sorry.” My mom, apologizing? I could have pinched myself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

“What’s up?” I hooked the bra and reached for my jeans, tugging them on as she continued.

“Well, I just got some shocking news and I think maybe you need to sit down.”

My heart sank. “Is it Dad?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that, dear.”

My mom was such a drama queen. I pulled my T-shirt out of the bag and pulled it on over my head. She probably called to tell me her dog peed on her favorite plant out back or something. Everything was a bigger deal to her than needed to be.

“Well, what is it?” I sat, not because Mom told me I should be, but because I had to put my socks and shoes on, which I did while she began her rant.

“Vera, dear, that man you’re living with is purely the devil.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you know he’s working with governments in Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean? He has business dealings with terrorists, dear.”

“Mom, seriously? What, did you have him investigated?” She’d done it before, not to any man I dated, but to a woman my father was seeing. She was ridiculous and I was upset.

“I am worried about you, Vera. You need to come home. I can’t have you dating someone who does business with horrible people.”

“Mom, he creates cybersecurity systems for governments as part of his job. It’s literally his job.” I picked up my phone and turned off speaker phone and put it to my ear again. “Why are you stalking him?”

“I’m not stalking, dear. I’m protecting you. And this guy is bad news. I’m telling you, you need to come home. I’m having Javier prepare your old bedroom. We remodeled it so it isn’t as kiddish. You’ll like it. I have fresh hyacinths every morning. I know how much you love those. And if you want we can?—”

“Mom, I’m not coming home. I’m successful here. Alright? So, please stop telling me what to do.” I hung up and buried my face in my hands. She was relentless and I was over it.

I finished dressing and took an Uber back to Lucas’s house. The gate code was always a bit tricky because the driver wasn’t allowed to know it, so I had to have him wait for me to hop out and enter it, then climb back into the car. Moments later, I’d be delivered to the house and forget the slight embarrassment anyway. This time, I tipped the guy extra for being kind to me after a frustrating afternoon.

As soon as I walked in the door, I dropped my bag and headed for the computer. I was waiting on an email from a rental agency that helped people looking for housing find the perfect apartment. They’d promised to help place me right away, and they even found several complexes that worked within my budget. The storm had made it more difficult to find something, but I was hopeful. I sat down at the computer and logged into my email and found that they had replied.

The email revealed that they had one apartment that would be available in as little as two weeks, and for someone as qualified as me, they would almost guarantee the place would be mine if I wanted it. I was elated, a huge smile stretching across my face as I read the email. I couldn’t wait to tell Midge. It was only a studio, and it wasn’t in a very good neighborhood, but it would be mine and I’d be on my own again.

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked as he walked in the door.

He dropped his briefcase by the door next to my bag and walked over to me. His kiss on my forehead came with eyes that scanned the computer screen and thus my email. The way he studied what I was doing made me shrink inside myself a little. The happiness I’d just felt was overshadowed by his joy to see me as much as my browser was overshadowed by him. I clicked the X and closed the window, but it didn’t stop me from feeling conflicted. He’d been so nice to me, and I was about to let him down. I knew it would.

“I got an email from a rental agency. They found an apartment that is up for rent in a few weeks. I think I might take it.” I tried not to act too happy, but I really was. Moving out of my mom’s house had been a huge step for me. It was natural to take the next step toward true independence by getting an apartment without a roommate.

“Oh,” he said, the emotion in his voice tangible. “So, you’re really moving out?” Lucas straightened and loosened his tie. He always looked handsome in a tie. It distracted me from the crushing guilt I felt, but only for a split second.

“I—” I frowned. “Yeah, I really am.”

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