I turn to see Tom motioning for me to join him. “Go, I’ll be over in the corner watching,” Presley says, and I watch her go before heading over to where Tom is.
He’s not happy. “The photographer bailed on us,” he informs me in a pissed off tone. “Apparently, she decided she isn’t a huge fan of yours and didn’t want anything to do with this interview.”
Fuck, no wonder he’s so pissed off. I rub the back of my neck as I feel the beginning of a headache coming on. “So, no one else can do it?”
“I’m trying to find someone but it’s such late notice I don’t think we’re going to have any luck.”
West and Van join us, and when they hear the news, Van yells out a rather loud, “Fuck!” and grabs the attention of pretty much everyone in the room, including Presley who gives me a questioning look.
I jog over to her and give her the news. “The photographer bailed on us because she doesn’t like me.”
“That’s so unprofessional! Is Tom finding someone else?”
“I don’t think so. It’s such late notice.”
She stands up and looks around the room for a moment before looking back at me. “I’ll do it.”
I frown. “Huh?”
Her voice is more forceful and I detect a tone of annoyance in it. “I said, I’ll do it. I’ll photograph you guys. I can’t actually believe the photographer cancelled on you.”
“Have you got your equipment with you?”
“I’ve got a camera on me. It might not be what I’d prefer to use, but it will do the job,” she says as she begins to walk towards Tom.
It hadn’t occurred to me to ask her to do it, but I’m on board with the idea.
“I’ll photograph the band,” Presley says to Tom who stares at her in surprise but quickly catches on and grins.
“Perfect, not sure why I didn’t fucking think of it,” he says, the grin growing larger on his face.
She turns to me and lets me know she’ll be back once she has her camera. Once she’s gone, I look at the guys and they all grin at me. “Fuck the people who try to keep us down,” West declares while raising his middle finger.
I laugh. This whole fucking situation sucks, but we’ll ride out the storm together.
* * *
Presley does a kick-ass job of photographing us. I’m so fucking turned on watching her work and take charge of us that I’m hoping like hell she eventually decides to take us on as a client and come on tour with us.
“That was brilliant,” Tom praises her when she’s finished. “I think you possibly just got some of the best shots of these guys that have ever been taken. And that last shot of you and Jett together – babe, that’s the winner of the day.”
I’m hesitant to let them use that shot but she doesn’t seem to mind. The interviewer picked up on our relationship and focused on that a little during the interview. I was a little cagey but when it was suggested a photo of the two of us would be good, Presley ran with it and took one. I turn to her now and ask, “Are you sure you want them to use that shot?”
“If you’re okay with them knowing about us, I’m okay with it.” She comes over to me and says softly, “Besides, I think it’d be good to give your fans something else to think about besides everything else they’ve been focusing on. Don’t you?”
Tom slaps me on the back. “She’s right, Jett, this could really help take the heat off the band. I vote you run with it.”
“Well, if you’re okay with it, I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops that you’re mine, so let’s do this,” I say to Presley, and fucking love the way she looks at me when I say it.
“Speaking of shouting it from the rooftops, how do you two feel about attending the music awards together tonight?” Tom asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes. The band is performing at the awards tonight and I can see Tom calculating the possible positive effect having Presley there might have.
My main goal here is to make sure Presley is happy with whatever we decide so I say to her, “It’s up to you, sweetheart. If you’re not comfortable coming, then I’ll go on my own.”
Tom pushes the point. “This could be really good for the band. I think everyone is going to love Presley and you together.”
I groan because I hate it when Tom gets pushy like this, but Presley places her hand on my arm and nods her head. “I agree with Tom, it’ll be good for the band. I’m in.”
“Fuck yeah!” West shouts, obviously ecstatic with this news.