Craving Her Curves (12 page)

“Izzy, we’ve had two movie stars and a designer in here in the last week,” I said.  She grinned.

“That happens all the time.  We need something new,” she said.  I snickered as we entered the large conference room and settled in chairs near the door.  Jade stood at the front with a man I didn’t recognize: he was tall and rather thin, but not in that unhealthy way.  His hair was dark and hung down to his shoulders in gently unkempt waves that could have been styled to look that way, or he really didn’t do anything to his hair: I couldn’t decide which.  His skin held an even, warm olive tone to it, and when his dark eyes swung across the room and landed on mine with a smirk, I felt my breath catch in my chest.  He smirked and winked.  I cleared my throat and looked down at my hands for a moment to get myself together.

“Is everyone here?” Jade asked, looking around to a murmur of collective yes’s.

“Awesome.  Everyone, I’d like you to meet Hugo Bernard.  He’s coming to us from France’s
C’est Belle
magazine, which you all know is a major player in the European fashion media.  He’s just relocated here to the states and has accepted
Pinks’
offer of employment,” she said.  The room gave a round of polite applause.

“Thank you, all, I’m really excited to be here. 
Pinks
is actually one of the few American magazines that I had sent to me in Paris, so being here is truly an honor.  I’ll try not to mess anything up while I learn,” he said with a light laugh that the room joined him in.  His accent was magical.

“Alright, no hazing the new guy, everyone.  Char, I’d like you to take Hugo with you on that story you’re writing about the new art gallery downtown, if that’s okay?” Jade said, turning to me.  I smiled and swallowed the rush of adrenaline that I got.

“Sure, no problem,” I said.  Jade grinned and clapped her hands.

“Perfect.  Now, everyone, back to work,” she said.

~*~*~

“M
s. Charlotte?” a heavily accented voice said from behind me.  I turned to face him standing there in all his foreign, sexy guy glory.

“You don’t have to add the title, Charlotte is fine,” I said, motioning for him to have a seat in the guest chair in my cube.  Hugo smiled and nodded.

“I try not to assume what people are comfortable with, so I always use a title until someone tells me not to,” he said.  I nodded.

“Makes sense.  It’s better to be seen as a bit more polite than people expect than a bit more rude,” I said.  Hugo smiled.

“That’s the way I see it as well,” he said.

“So, what did Jade tell you about the shoot today?” I asked.  Hugo shifted in his seat a bit.

“Nothing, other than it was a small art gallery that isn’t open yet and that you are writing the article.” he said.  I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“Alright.  Well, the gallery owner is aiming for new, unknown artists to have placement in his gallery.  That includes anything from graffiti artists who tag canvas for his shows to traditional oil painters who just can’t seem to get their names out.  The art world is very excited about the concept of this place, and we’re hoping that by getting in there, getting some good shots with the owner and some of the artists who are coming in to be interviewed, we can give them even more exposure, since the facility is, for all intents and purposes, crowd-funded,” I said.  Hugo nodded, jotting down notes in a well-worn leather-bound notebook.

“Very noble.  The idea is very new and innovative, I like it,” he said.  I smiled and nodded.

“Me too, especially the fact that he features a few graffiti artists.  They’re very talented people who tag buildings and the like, and giving them a place to legally display their amazing work is something I’ve always thought the art world should do,” I said.

“I agree.  I’m rather excited that Jade gave this to me as my first assignment: a new and innovative gallery and a beautiful woman to tour it with.  It’s the perfect day,” he said with a sly smile. 

I laughed softly, swallowing the flush that was threatening to creep up into my cheeks, and shook my head. “You are a little too smooth.” I said, standing and grabbing my bag.  Hugo stood and picked up his as well.

“Oh,
ma belle cherie
, there is no such thing as too smooth,” he said with a smirk.

T
he gallery was housed in what had used to be an old warehouse, now turned presentation space.  The outside gave it an urban, nontraditional look that fit what the owner was trying to do with the place.  Hugo started taking pictures as soon as we stepped out of the car, as I simply stood back and watched.  I’d intended to ask him to take some shots of the building and its surroundings, but he’d beat me to it.  If this was going to be the norm, I’d have to remember to ask for him more often.  It was refreshing to be with someone who seemed to think about stories the same way I did.

“It’d be nice to get a few shots of the owner out here, too; do you think he’d be willing?” Hugo asked.  I nodded.

“He seems very interested in doing what we think is best for this piece, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.  We can ask when we get inside,” I said.  Hugo slipped the strap of his camera over his shoulder, done for the moment, and smiled.

“Perfect.  Shall we?” he said, offering me his arm.  I giggled and slipped my hand into the bend of his elbow as we walked to the entrance together.

~*~*~

“M
r. Francesco is on a call with an artist.  He thought he’d be done by now, I’m so sorry,” a cute little redhead said as she met us at the entrance.

“It’s alright, we don’t mind waiting.  Any chance we could take the time to look around and maybe get some shots of a few of the pieces?” I asked.  She perked up and nodded.

“Sure!  Mr. Francesco just asked that you don’t use more than three pictures of the artwork here.  He’s worried that if everyone can see them all in the magazine, they won’t actually come visit,” she said.  A valid concern.  I grinned.

“We can do that,” I said.  She smiled and nodded again.

“I’ll let him know that you all are in the gallery.  He’ll join you as soon as he’s able,” she said before flouncing off down a hallway.  I snickered.

“What?” Hugo asked as we walked through the entrance into the actual gallery area.

“She’s one of those skinny little perky girls that I hated in high school because they made me feel so inadequate,” I said as we strolled.

“Inadequate how?” he asked.  I sighed.

“Like I wasn’t perky enough or skinny enough, my family wasn’t rich enough, my shoes weren’t new enough...” I trailed off a bit at the end.  Hugo slipped his arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze.

“You are absolutely adequate.  You are more than adequate; you are perfection.  Do not let anyone tell you different, 
ma belle
,” he said.  For some reason, his words made me smile and feel a bit better about myself.

“Thanks,” I said softly.  We strolled together in silence for a bit, until Hugo brought us to a halt in front of a large graffiti mural.

“What about this one?” Hugo said, motioning to the large piece.

“Wow, this is amazing,” I said.  Hugo grinned and nodded.

“I think it’s just the kind of piece that should accompany your eloquent writing and make people want to come down here and see more,” he said.  I nodded and stepped to the side so that he could take a few shots as I jotted down the name and a few details about the artist.  I wanted to make sure we gave credit on these photos.  I’d squatted down besides the painting, my book on my knee as I intently scribbled my notes to the accompaniment of Hugo’s digital camera beeps.  It wasn’t until I turned to ask how many more he was going to take that I realized that he wasn’t taking pictures of the piece anymore.

“What are you doing?” I asked, standing.  Hugo gave me a sly grin.

“I’ve got several shots of the painting from several angles, so you should have what you need,” he said.  I nodded.

“Great, but that doesn’t explain why your lens was facing me when I turned around,” I said.

“You looked so beautiful settled there.  There is something about an intellectual woman that I have always found alluring.  You, kneeling there with your hair whipped back into that bun and your notebook being written in furiously... I found it beautiful and I wanted to capture that,” he said.  I felt my face heat up and cleared my throat, turning away.

“Come on, let’s pick another piece,” I said.  Hugh laughed softly, his footfalls just behind mine.

We ended up settling on three different types of pieces for the article: the graffiti piece, a traditional oil painting of James Brown and one piece from a charcoal pencil set that depicted some of the most rundown areas of the city in the most beautiful ways.  There was instant agreement between Hugo and me.  If I didn’t say it, he did, and vice versa.  By the time the owner joined us, I’d pretty much settled on always working with him if I could.

“Ms. Rivera?”  A young man said, bringing my attention around.  I smiled and held my hand out for a shake.

“Please, call me Charlotte.  This is Hugo, and he’s taking the photos for the story,” I said, motioning to him beside me and waiting as the two men shook hands.

“Nice to meet you both, and please, call me Keith.  Were you all able to find pieces that fit what you wanted for the article?” he asked.  I nodded.

“Would you like to see the three that we picked?” Hugo asked.  Keith smiled and nodded.  I grinned; I wasn’t used to having a photographer who was a conversationalist.  Neil only really spoke when it pertained to the pictures that he was taken, though to be fair, he was a pretty severe introvert.  A great guy, but he had to be very comfortable with you in order to have a conversation, past very short answers and polite smiles.  It had taken me eight months to get him to actually laugh genuinely with me.

“You all picked great pieces,” Keith said as Hugo flipped through the shots for him.  I grinned.

“We wanted to pick three vastly different pieces.  Just a taste, to make people think that this place is alarmingly diverse and they’d better come down here and give you their money,” I said.  Keith and Hugo both laughed at that one.

“Money would be good, yes,” he said.  And that was how we started the interview.

Hugo moved us into what turned out to be a small coffee shop area.  The owner and I sat and spoke about his influences, his inspirations and aspirations, the artists that had pieces in the gallery for the opening, the investors who he had waiting in the wings to see how well opening night was going to be... everything that would look and sound great, and get people in the building.  Hugo kept his distance, taking pictures of the two of us as we talked and laughed after making sure that Keith didn’t mind being pictured in his own article, which of course he didn’t.  By the time we left, Hugo and I had both decided to come on opening night, and bring everyone that we could.

“That was amazing.  Where did you find him?” he asked.  I smiled.

“Oddly enough, I was grocery shopping and we got stuck in a line together.  We started talking and he began to tell me about this gallery.  He said that he was telling everyone that he could, trying to get the word out any way that he could, and I was so impressed that I went to Jade and suggested that we write about his gallery,” I said.  Hugo smiled as he opened the driver’s side door for me.  There was something I wasn’t used to: a guy opening car doors for me, even when I was the one driving because we’d come in my car.

“It’s amazing when we can meet people whose lives we are meant to change,
n’est pas
?” he said.  I giggled and nodded.

“
Oui
,” I said.

“Oh,
je suis impressionné de plus en plus avec vous, ma cherie.  Vous parlez français
?” he said.  I snorted.

“I’m pretty sure you asked if I speak French somewhere in there, but I don’t know enough French to be 100% on that,” I said.  He laughed.

“I said that I am more and more impressed with you.  Then I asked if you speak French,” Hugo said with a laugh as he climbed into the passenger seat of my car.  I snickered.

“I’m going to need to learn more French if you’re going to keep switching languages on me,” I said.  Hugo glanced across the car at me.

“I can help you with that, if you want,” he said.  I shot him a look and decided I was going to concentrate on the road a bit more.

“I’m sure you can,” I said.  He laughed.

“Let’s stop and get some lunch before we go back to the office,” he said.  My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and I ducked my head a bit, embarrassed.

“Yeah, let’s,” I said.

“T
his is really good, you two,” Jade said.  She had an almost-final copy of the article in her hands, along with our choices for the photos to accompany it.  Hugo and I shared a look and a smile.

“I’m glad you like it; we sat over those pictures for hours before we could settle on which ones to use,” I said.  Jade frowned slightly.

“You had trouble finding good shots?  Because these are fantastic,” she asked.

“No, we both liked all of them, but we couldn’t use them all.  Deciding which ones to cut was difficult,” Hugo said with a grin.

“Oh!  That’s a good problem to have; I like that one,” she said.  We laughed.

“It is better than the alternative, true,” I said, nodding in agreement.

“So, are either of you opposed to covering the opening night for the site?  Keith has agreed that he’d like that, but would like the pictures to focus on the people there.  Do either of you plan on going?” Jade asked.

“I do,” I said.

“Me too, actually,” Hugo said.  We shared a smile.

“Perfect.  You can go together?” Jade asked.  Hugo and I nodded.

“Good.  Bring me back something good.  This is going final,” she said with a grin as Hugo and I stood.

~*~*~

T
he opening was two weeks after the issue with our story hit stands.  We’d hoped that was enough time for everyone to read it and get excited about being there, but truly, we weren’t sure.  Until we pulled up to the gallery that night and realized that we had to park a nice little hike from the building.  I grinned at Hugo and he returned it.