Page 59 of My Turkish Fling
He put on a self-deprecating act. “Well, gum doesn’t count, right?”
As we reached the cars, I snuck another look at Emir over my shoulder, and caught him staring at me with such adoring eyes my stomach flipped. Oh, God. I searched for the sense of panic, but only felt that wobbly flip-flopping of my insides, like my organs were playing musical chairs.
I felt Gus’s questioning gaze on us. I hadn’t given him an answer. Emir wasn’t a WWOOFer or a farmhand, but he was hardly a ‘friend of a friend’ either. Why couldn’t I find the words? Why was it this hard?
If I wanted to keep Emir, I’d have to tell people. I’d have to tell my family. If I wanted to hang onto this happiness, and there was no other word for what my heart was doing right now, I’d have togo public with a younger Turkish man.
“Should we take two cars, or—” Gus gestured at his Hyundai.
“Yes.” I pointed at a bag on his back seat. “You have a lot of gear.”
I was speaking way too brightly, probably annoying Emir. Hell, I was annoying myself, but I couldn’t be trapped in a car with this guy, his gear and his gear obsession.
Gus nodded, finally getting behind the wheel. “Do you want to ride with me? We can discuss the shoot? Would save time.”
I swallowed hard but gave him a sweet smile. “I would, but Emir can’t drive.” I shot Emir a sharp look, silencing the protests that clearly hovered on his tongue.
Gus eyed him with mock sympathy. “Oh, no! That’s too bad. How do you get around?”
Emir gritted his teeth but played along. “I don’t. It’s a pain.”
Casting me a half-menacing look, he slid into the passenger seat of my car, slamming the door. Teasing him gave me a thrill I wasn’t entirely proud of.
“Just follow me, I’ll drive to the first location I had in mind. You can tell me if you think it’s any good.” I smiled at Gus before getting behind the wheel.
“Icandrive,” Emir grumbled as I started the car.
“Sometimes it’s best to tell a white lie, trust me. Let that douche feel all smug because he thinks you can’t drive, and he thinks that gives him the upper hand somehow. He’ll be easier to work with. It’s all bullshit anyway. It’s not like driving or having a nice car adds inches to your dick—”
“Nice car?Nicecar?”
I laughed. “I’m not talking about his Huyndai!”
“Thank you.”
I couldn’t stop chuckling at his indignant expression. What was it with men and cars? I couldn’t have cared less about mine.
Entering Esk Valley, my mood shifted. This is why I’d wanted to do the documentary. Nature had already done its thing, new growth taking over the layer of silt that had settled over the landscape, transforming it into a drained ocean floor, but the evidence of destruction was everywhere. I tried to imagine the waters that had poured through, my mind wandering to Emir’s home country.
“Have you visited the affected areas after the earthquake in Turkey?”
“No. But my uncle sent pictures of their house and neighborhood. Nothing but rubble.” He sighed.
“Natural disasters are so unfair, aren’t they?”
I parked by a dilapidated house, with only one of its retaining walls standing upright, perfectly illustrating my argument.
“Don’t get too close,” Emir said. “That might collapse.”
He took out his camera and fiddled with the settings. Gus parked behind us and I met him at his car. “A good spot, eh?” I gestured at the desolate location.
“Very ‘The Road’, isn’t it?” Gus popped his trunk and opened a case containing his precious drone. “Have you seen it?”
I had but shook my head. I didn’t feel like gushing over the photography.
I spent the next hour and a half directing Gus, who flew the drone over the landscape. Meanwhile, Emir walked up and downthe road, recording footage on the ground. When he returned, Gus had just set up a field monitor on the hood of his car to view the shots.
Throughout the shoot, he kept dropping movie references, either to connect with me or test my knowledge, I wasn’t sure. I stuck to my excuse of knowing nothing and not having enough time for movies, until he moved to such old, mainstream titles I could no longer claim ignorance. So, I nodded along as he preached about the importance of wide-angle shots and symmetry in the Shining, grateful that he kept the tone and content professional, even if he stood a little too close, accidentally brushing my shoulder every time he gesticulated with his hands.
