His eyes drink me in again as I head to the clothing rack where the clothes I came in are still hanging. I rummage through my purse first, seeing a couple of missed calls from my brother. He's probably anxious to know how everything went. I didn't expect for the shoot to take this long.
I smile to myself. Robin's way too protective, but I'm grateful for it. I can't trust my own judgement, never could. Robin makes sure I'm okay, and not getting into too much trouble.
"Unless..."
"What?" I turn back to face Raphael who is still staring at me intently. "Unless what?"
"Unless you'd like to see me before then." He smirks. The cockiness would be unbearable on any other man, but Raphael has a certain kind of charm that makes it impossible to hate him for being so forward. "I like you, Dove. You're... different."
Not special. Not beautiful. Different.
But it's a compliment, nonetheless. I stare back into the photographer's gaze, pondering his words. There's no way I can live up to the flock of picture-perfect, barely legal models that decorate his arms at public functions. I'm not as pretty, and I'm too broken. But maybe that's exactly why he likes me.
"Are you asking me out?" I wonder out loud, and he laughs.
"You're really straightforward, aren't you?" he asks, and I shrug in response.
"No point in pretending. I am what I am," I reply.
"I like that." He sets his camera down, grinning at me. "I am asking you out. Have dinner with me. Tonight."
"Tonight?" I shake my head. "No, I can't tonight."
"Got another hot date?"
I think of my plans. Dinner with Robin, then curling up in front of the TV, binging the same TV shows for the thousandth time. "You could say that."
"You're a popular girl, Dove Canterbury," Raphael smirks. "I'll settle for tomorrow then. And don't give me another excuse. I want to see you again, soon as I can."
I weigh the pros and cons. The negatives by far outweigh the positives, but despite that, I find myself nodding in response to Raphael's question. I grab a pen from his desk and scribble my address on a pink Post-It note, handing it to him.
"Pick me up here. Eight p.m. tomorrow."
"Do I get your number too?" He raises his brows, obviously amused. I hesitate, but then scribble that down, too. "And your social media? Instagram? Facebook? Do you have Twitter?"
"No," I reply firmly. "I'm not on social media."
I neglect to mention my Instagram account, but I don't want him to know about that. Not even Robin does.
"You're an enigma, Dove Canterbury," he reflects. I ignore his words and get dressed in the studio while his gaze swallows me up with curiosity. What's the point of hiding now? The guy's already seen me naked from every angle.
"Well, you got yourself a deal. I'll pick you up tomorrow. Say hi to your brother for me, alright?" Raphael says once I'm back in my baggy clothes that hide a multitude of sins.
"Sure." I smile awkwardly and grab my purse, hoisting it on my shoulder. "You have a good day."
I exit the studio into the office area. The hairstylist glares at me, but I ignore her, saying my goodbyes and heading out while ordering an Uber on my phone.
I wait. It's warmer here than it was in the air-conditioned studio, but still not enough to warm my cold bones. Nothing can stop the cold spreading from the inside.
As I wait for my driver, I scan the passersby for any sign of trouble. But no one pays me much attention. I'm invisible like this, in my all-black, baggy clothes, natural makeup, and my hair covering half my face – the ruined half.
But then a mother walks by, holding a little girl's hand, and my heart jumps. The girl is cute, wearing a pink tutu and light-up pink sneakers. She must be about four. Really freaking cute. I smile at her, and she gives me a curious look while her mother impatiently tugs on her hand.
Tucking my hair behind my ear absentmindedly, I push my tongue out and make a face at her.
Her eyes widen as she notices the scar on my cheek. I almost forgot about it. Almost.
But as the little girl's smile changes into a grimace, I know I can never forget.
I'm ruined. A monster. And nothing will ever change the fact that Parker Miller destroyed my life eight years ago. I hate the bastard.
Chapter 2
Nox
Little bird is not so little anymore.
I raise the cigarette to my lips, inhaling the smoke. It's hot out here. Outrageously fucking hot. I hate it. Hate being in this heat. It doesn't agree with my body, but Dove doesn't seem affected by it at all. My eyes follow her into the office building. I don't know what the fuck she's doing there, but once she disappears inside, I use the opportunity to scour the metal plates with business names on them.