Shifting Gears (Reynold's Restorations 3) - Page 68

My throat felt tight, but I nodded.

“So, you’ll accept?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s celebrate.”

The next two weeks were a whirlwind. I was constantly on the go. I spent some days and evenings traipsing around Toronto, attending craft fairs, concerts, art shows. Other times, I was wandering festivals and carnivals. Brett came with me when he could, and those were my favorite days. Otherwise, the magazine had someone who accompanied me if I needed. Mitzi was a small ball of energy, drove like a madwoman, and was stronger than an ox. I enjoyed working with her.

The first assignment I handed in, I had sat across from Garner and waited, nervous and anxious as he perused the photos. He was silent, then sat back, observing me.

“Exactly what I wanted.” He tapped his screen. “Look at the lighting here. How it plays on the ceiling. What a brilliant stroke of genius. And this one—with the old couple watching the kids onstage? The way you captured it from both angles and merged them—astounding. The kids watching them, the couple watching the kids.” He shook his head. “I knew you were the right fit.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s just the start, Kelly,” he assured me.

Brett and I had celebrated hard that night.

Twice.

My phone rang, bringing me out of my thoughts. I frowned at the number.

“Garner?” I asked.

“How is my favorite photographer?”

“Good. Is there a problem?” I had emailed him this week’s photos instead of making another trip into the city. I had copies of the first magazine. It was an emotional moment for me to see my work in glossy color, and my name attached to my photos. The magazine had shared a short bio and set me up with an email account, and it was filled daily with requests.

“Nope. Your first set of photos was a hit with our readers. I couldn’t be happier. And the latest ones you sent? That one with the drummer and the way you caught the sticks and the water exploding off the drum? Loved it.”

“Yeah, that was fun.” Brett and I had enjoyed the concert and making out in the dark at the back of the floor after I was done shooting. I still had a love bite on my neck from his teeth when he got carried away.

“I need another meeting. I’m in Littleburn later to see my mother. Can we get together for coffee?”

“Sure.”

“Will four work? The diner on Main Street?”

“Yes. Are you sure everything is good?”

“More than good. See you then.”

I stared at my phone, wondering what was going on.

I shrugged and went back to editing some photos for Rob. I’d know soon enough.

Garner was on the phone when I arrived at the diner. I slid into the booth, studying him. He was in his early fifties, handsome and rugged. His beard and short hair were a silver-gray. His eyes a deep brown. He had laugh lines around them. A heavy-looking wedding ring sat on his left hand. I had seen the pictures of his wife and family scattered around his office. I liked him.

He hung up and offered me a smile. “Sorry. My wife is renovating the kitchen and just found something she wanted to run by me.” He grinned, looking almost mischievous. “Suddenly, she remembered the word budget.” He laughed to himself, not looking at all worried. “I don’t really care as long as she’s happy.”

The waitress came and refilled his coffee cup, and I ordered myself one, plus a muffin. I had been on the go all day. Garner got himself one as well. “I’d love one of their Reuben sandwiches,” he admitted. “But my mother is making dinner and wouldn’t be pleased if I didn’t eat.”

“You grew up here?”

“In Lomand. But my parents moved to Littleburn when I left home.” He chuckled. “They thought Lomand was getting too big.”

I laughed. “Really?”

He nodded. “They both grew up on a farm. No one around for miles. Lomand seemed like a bustling city to them. They were horrified when I chose to live in Toronto. It overwhelmed them, and with my dad gone, I come here to see Mom. She comes in for holidays if I pick her up, but she prefers it here.”

“I was surprised how much bigger and louder Toronto seemed when I came in to see you,” I admitted. “I lived there for years and never noticed.”

“That happens.”

Our muffins came, and I took a sip of my coffee. “So…”

He chewed and swallowed.

“So, I’m sure you know Toronto Now is owned by a larger publication.”

“Yes.”

“They publish a travel magazine as well.” He paused. “They want you to do some work for it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I brought up your name to my boss. Showed him your work. He was impressed. They were looking for a new photographer.” He wiped his mouth. “They are interested in you.”

The nomad in me sat up, eager and excited. Travel. Photos. Exactly what I had always wanted to do. My life’s dream being offered to me.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Reynold's Restorations Suspense
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