SHOOT: A Novel (9 page)

 
“Tell me about Iowa.” I stared at him blankly.
“Go on,” he pushed.

I started with the
only thing I could think of—blueberry pies. As I talked he started to snap
photos seemingly at random. It was hard to ignore at first, but eventually I
was able to shut out the constant clicking of the camera. He took more photos
whenever I got more animated. He stood up and walked a bit off to the side,
causing me to stand and turn to face him without thinking twice about it.

“That’s a wrap.”

I stared at him in
surprise. Already? I felt my knees go weak when I saw his dimple form as he
smiled back. Just as I started to head back to the room where my clothes were,
Brad called out. “Chloe.” I turned to look at him, “Would you like to go out
with me Friday evening?”

My eyes traced
over his face as I gulped nervously. Did he really just ask me to go out with
him?

“Okay.” I said,
trying my best to hide my quivering voice.

“Okay yes? Or okay
no?” His eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of me.

“Okay yes!” I shot
back with a timid laugh.

I left Shoot about
forty minutes later feeling over the moon, but more nervous than I had been
when I first arrived in New York. Not only did I just wrap up my first real
photo shoot, but I just agreed to go on a date with the one man who’s given me
wobbly knees ever since I got to the big city.
 

It wasn’t just
that he was someone I barely knew and worked with. The thing was, I’d never
been on a ‘real date’ before. Sure, I’d had a boyfriend or two briefly in high
school, but I never thought of hanging out with him as being a date. It was
totally different. Now I was on my own in the city and living a life that was
radically different from the one I had known forever.

I continued to
walk, ending up at Central Park. It was a lovely evening and there were still
plenty of people roaming about. I walked rather aimlessly, wondering how I had
gotten into this. What did I even have to say on a date that would be
interesting? I sighed and sat down on a park bench, picking at the strap of my
purse. As I looked down at it I realized I didn’t even know what to wear. I had
absolutely nothing that was good for a date! I quickly got up and started to
head home, hoping that one of my roommates would be there and be willing to
loan me some clothes.

The big city life
was starting to get very interesting.

Friday evening
rolled around much faster than I anticipated. Between meetings with Sonja to
pick out the best shots for my portfolio, interviews for blurbs to place in my
bio, a meeting with the other scouts, and even an audition for a future photo
shoot in a teen magazine, everything had been a flurry.

In between all
that, I managed to squeeze enough time to plan an outfit from my roommates’
closets and even go shopping for my own pair of black heels, which cost more
than I could have ever imagined shoes could cost. I settled it in my mind as an
investment and a treat.
 

I met Brad at a
swanky tapas restaurant in the Lower East Side. I wore a knee-length, pleated
plum cocktail dress that just barely showed off my cleavage. It was fitted at
the upper part of the bodice, but mostly flowed. It was quite alluring on my
fair skin especially paired with my new black heels.

Brad was standing
outside the main entrance to the restaurant when I arrived. He looked at me and
for the first time I felt like his eyes raking over my entire body was him
actually checking me out instead of making sure I looked good for the camera.
It gave me an entirely new feeling. My stomach tumbled and I felt my heart
pound.

Brad was
irresistible in a sport coat, dark jeans and leather shoes. He looked
simultaneously casual and dressed up properly for a date and I couldn’t help
but wonder how it was he pulled it off. I wondered if he had just been born
with an innate sense of style or if he had been molded into this through his
work as a photographer. Either way, it was his natural charm that stood out
above everything else about him. He walked forward to greet me and, much to my
surprise, leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

“You look gorgeous,”
he said with a smile. I felt my cheeks grow hot, but I murmured a timid, “thank
you. You look…” I swallowed hard, “great also.” I clenched my eyes shut and
cursed myself inside my head. For some reason spitting out a simple compliment
felt like a grueling exercise.

He chuckled, “Are
you really that nervous around me?” All I could do was give a playful laugh and
shake my head before he placed his hand in the small of my back and led me
inside the restaurant. “We have reservations,” he told me when he noticed I was
looking at the crowds of people waiting to be seated.

We were
immediately taken to a table for two in the back corner of the restaurant,
which seemed to resemble a large corridor to me. There was a row of tables
placed somewhat close together lining the back wall, a long table down the
center, and bar seating around what appeared to be the kitchen area on the
other side. The place was loud and busy, but I could still see it was clean,
neat, and tastefully decorated in its simplicity.

The walls were a
light color with some tile placed here and there for decoration. The tables
were a smooth and deep wood color with dark cushioned dining chairs to match. It
was dimly lit which added a cool, nightlife atmosphere to the place. I wondered
if this was a common thing in New York City restaurants. There were exposed
vents on the high ceiling and long, steel strings hung down bearing bare bulbs
shaped like tear-drops. Somehow the place managed to look high-end with a
slight industrial feel. The restaurant made me think of Brad’s style, both in
how he dressed and how he handled himself.

In many ways he
was high-end and sophisticated, yet rugged with an edge to him. He was a bundle
of mysteries I planned on unpacking.

“Are you adventurous?”
he asked.

“Well, I
am
here,” I responded with a teasing
smile. It came off like I was being cheeky about being out on a date with him,
but I had really meant it about my big move to the city. Either way, it
surprised him and earned me a genuine chuckle from deep in his throat.

“Alright, then,
you’ll get special treatment tonight,” he said with an exaggerated wink. The
server came around, as if on cue, and Brad ordered a bit of everything off the
menu along with sparkling water with ice for the two of us. My eyes trailed
across his sharp chaw line as he pointed on the menu. He spoke with such
confidence, I could practically feel his smooth voice reach across the table
and envelope around me.

 
When he turned to look at me, he grinned wider
than I had ever seen. “You deserve to try it all.” I looked around and saw a
lot of food I was completely unfamiliar with. I noticed a blackboard at the top
of the kitchen that listed various specialties of the house, but I didn’t recognize
any of the names of the dishes. Growing up in Iowa, I had always been a simple
meat and potatoes kind of girl.

I had wanted a
taste of the world for as long as I could remember and it was finally about to
happen.

“It’s called
Patatas Bravas
,” Brad informed me as the
server brought out the first dish. He handed me a small plate and told me not
to question what it was and to keep an open mind. “Any allergies?” he asked. I
shook my head. “How do you feel about spicy food?” I shrugged.

As soon as I took
the first bite, I felt like my mouth was on fire and I went straight for the
sparkling water. Brad, meanwhile, was in a fit of laughter. Once the burning in
my mouth had calmed down I stared at him. “I’m glad you take such pleasure in
my pain,” I barked at him jokingly.

He made a
suggestive face and leaned forward, “Only if you’re into it.”

I felt my heart start
to race because I couldn’t, for the life of me, make out if he was being
serious or not. Then he started laughing before taking a sip of his water. “So
no more
Patatas
for you?”

“I’m afraid not,” I
chuckled as I took another sip of water. Just then, the server brought out
another dish. “How spicy is this one?” I asked him. He smiled, “Not spicy at
all. Don’t worry, I’ve had my fun. No more spicy foods for you, I promise.”

“Can I trust you?”
I shot back with a skeptical look. Brad simply shrugged his shoulders with a
smirk.

“This is
Espinacas a la Catalana
,” Brad told me. I
could clearly see the main part of the dish was spinach and I was happy. I
thought his accent when he pronounced the names of the dishes was cute, but I
kept that thought to myself. He served a bit on my dish before grabbing a
serving of his own and the two of us ate at the same time.

“This is
delicious!” I told him before swallowing my first bite. My hand shot up to my
mouth in shocked horror as a small bit of food fell out.
 
Brad’s face instantly lit up with laughter.

“First you need
help getting dressed, now eating.” He shook his head in a tsk-tsk motion.

“Hey now!”

“Just teasing!” He
held his hands up in surrender.

After that, he
ordered champagne for us as more small dishes came out, none of which were
spicy save for a couple, but they were manageable and he warned me beforehand. Once
the dishes started rolling out regularly and I had a few more sips of
champagne, I was beginning to loosen up and finally start to feel more
comfortable.

“What’s next?” I
asked.

“Getting demanding
so early?” he asked before draining the champagne in his glass and reaching for
the bottle to get a refill. He noticed mine was low so he filled up my glass as
well. “Maybe I should stop telling you the names,” he said.

“Why?” I
protested. “I love it when you tell me the names!” I felt my cheeks go hot and I
noticed the look in his eyes. I had sounded whiney, but I hoped it was in a
cute way.

He leaned forward,
“I can be cute when I speak Spanish or try to, anyway.” He grinned cheekily. I
started laughing, breaking it up with sips of champagne. Brad played it as if
he were as confident as ever and it made me wonder just how deep his confidence
really went. I liked that about him. He was easy to talk to and had good ways
of keeping me interested, making me want to learn more about him.
 

I also liked that he
had asked me some good questions about my hometown and childhood before opening
up about his own. It was like he really had an interest in getting to know me. He
wanted to make sure I was heard, but also wanted to find some sort of common
ground for us to relate to each other on.

“I actually grew
up in Queens,” he told me after swallowing a mouthful of
Croquetas Cremosas
. Those had been my favorite so far. “My mother,
a single-mother, worked really hard, but it was still tough financially on us.
How was it in Iowa, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Financially?” I
asked. He nodded. “It was okay, but not great. I wouldn’t say we were poor, but
my parents worked themselves to the bone, pretty much. It always seemed like
they worked all day long, you know? I’m pretty sure our farm wouldn’t have been
as big if we hadn’t gotten it from grandma and grandpa.”

“You started
working from a young age too?”

“Yeah,” I nodded,
thinking back on baking pies as a young girl. It was all I had ever known so I
had no idea how radically different our lives could be. I didn’t know my
parents were, at the end of the day, underpaid through their own business. “I’ve
always wanted to leave Iowa, but my mom wanted me to stay there and help run
the family business.”

There was a brief
pause before Brad spoke up, “You can be anyone you want here in New York, you
know. It’s the city of dreams. I love this place and I know you will too.”

It sounded corny
coming from him, but I actually agreed. Everything up until that point
did
feel like a dream. There was so much
diversity in New York and so many opportunities despite the astronomically high
population. Everything was so different from the small farm town in Iowa and,
while I thoroughly enjoyed it, I also found it intimidating. But as I sat across
Brad, learning about his childhood and laughing my way through glasses of
champagne and new foods, I felt I had gotten off to a good start. With Sonja
who believed in me so much, my awesome roommates, and now Brad, I felt like a
good support system had already come together.

Once dinner
finished, Brad insisted on paying the bill. I was happy to find he was a
gentleman in that regard even if it was considered “old school” thinking for
most people. Where I came from, however, certain things were still basic
manners and I couldn’t just ignore all of that. In the end, I mainly found it
sweet of him.

“Would you like to
get a drink?” he asked.

“I’m confused as
to what we’ve been doing through dinner,” I teased back.

He nudged me
gently with his arm, “
Another
drink?”
I turned to him and smiled, nodding. “I know a great bar just a few minutes’
walk away.”

The cool night air
felt good against my skin as we started our walk. I looked up, enjoying the
sight of tall buildings surrounding us. I was really on my first real date and
it was in the Big Apple. I felt like I was in a movie. We walked slowly to the
bar. Somehow we had gotten on the topic of Brad recounting the different celebrities
he’d seen on the streets of New York. It all added to my fascination with the
evening.

“Soon you might be
one of those recognizable New York faces.”

My world was
starting to feel a whole lot bigger.