Torn (The Fosters of New York 3)

I dig my hands into her flesh, tugging her even closer. I'm happy for her. I want her to have everything life has to offer. She deserves all of that and more. I just know, in my own fucked up, selfish mind, that when this runs its course and she leaves to pursue her dreams, that I'll have to face my life head-on.

She's not a distraction anymore. It may have started that way but it's shifted to something more and the thought of watching her walk out of my life scares the fuck out of me.

CHAPTER 31

Falon

"You've actually met Julian Bishop?"

I'm beginning to seriously wonder if Maya should be my assistant, instead of Remy. Maya called me early this morning to see if I wanted to do lunch today. We don't get together as often as we used to what with each of us dedicating so much time to our careers. She's also busy with Jason and if I'm being honest, it's been incredible to spend as much time as I have with Asher.

This morning after he fell asleep, I tried to rouse him so I could say goodbye but he was out cold. Instead, I grabbed his notepad from the dining room table, wrote him a quick goodbye letter and then I slipped out. I went home, showered, dressed in a conservative white sundress and pinned my hair up before I double checked the batteries for my camera.

"I took his photograph in my studio." I

pull on the handle of my camera case. Technically it's a black, fabric suitcase with fucked up wheels. I added some padding inside to hold my camera, lenses and a few clamps. It's not ideal, but it does its job right now.

Maya heaves the canvas case with my lights over her shoulder, pulling on the strap. "Is he going to be there today? I swear I'll ring your neck if he is. I didn't dress up for this."

I stop mid-step to turn to look at her. It's not even nine yet and she's got on full make-up and an adorable light blue dress. When I told her Remy bailed on me yet again, she offered to help me with the shoot. It's not the first time she's come to my rescue. I know it won't be the last either.

"You look fantastic, Maya. You look better than me which an assistant is never supposed to do."

She laughs. "I have a meeting this afternoon, Fal. I'm dressed for that. If I knew there was a chance I'd meet Julian Bishop today, I'd have worn something that he'd drool over."

She's more drool worthy than she realizes. "He'll drool if he's there. I don't know a man who wouldn't."

"Asher Foster wouldn't."

That stops me again. I move to the right to make room for a man walking three dogs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sets the case of lights on the sidewalk. "I saw a picture online of you kissing him. Holy shit, Falon. I know you said he was interested, but that looked like a prelude to a fuck kind of kiss to me."

"We have," I admit through a shy smile. "More than once. A lot, actually."

"You slept with Asher Foster?" she crows, causing more than a few people to look our way.

I press my finger to my lips. "Technically we did that too. I stayed at his apartment last night."

"You slept in his bed?" Her eyes widen. "You fucked him last night then?"

"He fucked me on his dining room table very early this morning." I squeeze her forearm as I gesture to the case that's resting by her expensive heels. "We need to get there now, Maya. Let's go."

"Wait." She stalls me when she places her hand over mine. "You didn't just say he fucked you on a dining room table, did you?"

"The Bishop, Maya." I point up the block to where the hotel towers over the adjacent buildings. "Let's go take some pictures that will knock Mr. Bishop's socks off."

She heaves the bag back onto her shoulder. "Personally, I'd rather knock his pants off."

***

I fall into the worn leather chair in my studio soon after I walk through the door. My morning was even better than I envisioned it would be. Maya and I worked like a well-oiled machine together as soon as we both got over the initial shock of how exquisite the hotel suite was.

The marketing department at Bishop Hotels wanted shots of the bedroom, the sitting area and the washroom of one of the luxury suites. It was immaculate and a dream to photograph. I worked quickly, not giving it to the temptation to overthink each shot. I let my intuition guide me and with Maya's help and the help of one of the housekeeping staff sent up to steam the bed linens to remove all the wrinkles, I left with hundreds of stunning pictures.

If Mr. Bishop and his staff can't see the beauty of their hotel in their pictures, I may need to find another job.

I scan my phone for any missed messages. I have three texts from clients all booked in over the course of the next week. They each want to confirm their times and two of them are looking for guidance on what to wear. I reply back to each, taking the time to ask how their day is, along with a few encouraging words about how great I know the shoot will be.