Double_Exposure__Violet_Hill_Bo_-_Chelsea_M.__eron.pdf

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One
It was one of those days when she walked into the café. One of those days that I would need a drink
after. One of those days when I wanted to tear off my apron, toss it in the corner, and tell Sal and Jen that
it had been real, but I had other shit to do.
And then she walked in. It was one of those things where I happened to turn at the right moment and
bam. There she was. Like fate had placed her in the doorway of the Violet Hill Café. The sun lit her up
from behind so it was like her dark hair glowed. The door shut behind her and she took off her sunglasses
and looked around. I instantly appraised her blue button up and slim black pants. Hmm, she might be lost
and not know that this was a totally queer café. Or she could know exactly what she was doing, and in that
case I wanted to wait on her.
I walked over. Damn, she was sexy as hell. I should probably not be ogling her like that, seeing as how
I was on work time. But when had that stopped me before?
“Can I help you?” I asked in my nicest voice. I tried not to make it too sugary sweet because then it just
sounded sarcastic.
“Yes, I was hoping to speak to one of the owners?” Huh. That was an odd request. I looked her up and
down again, but she didn’t seem the type to “ask for a manager” so I was a little caught off-guard.
“Can I ask what this is regarding?” I was so professional right now.
“Sure, my name is Lacey Cole and I’m a freelance photographer. I’m working on a project right now
and I was wondering if I could take some pictures here and write a piece on the café. Kind of a ‘People of
New York’ thing, but for LGBTQ spaces.” Oh, well. That was something completely different. I sputtered
for a minute, trying to think of what to say. I had other tables and other customers. But this girl with her
dark hair and captivating hazel eyes was going to make me ignore them all.
“Sure, Jen is in the back. I’ll just go get her. If you want to find a seat?” I gestured around the café,
currently full of people on laptops, the working lunch crowd, a few families with young children, and
some teens that had clearly skipped school to come here.
“Thanks so much,” she said, taking a seat in a corner at a table for two.
“Oh,” I said before I forgot, “can I get you anything?”
“Uh, sure. Dirty chai?” I tried not to smile when she said “dirty” and failed. What was wrong with me?
I was a flirt for sure, but this was throwing me off my game. Pretty girls tended to do that to me though. So
did pretty boys. And pretty non-binary people. Pretty people just got to me. The perils of being pansexual.
“Can do,” I said, nearly tripping over my feet as I went back to the kitchen to put in her order and get
Jen.
“Thanks . . . ” she said, trailing off and trying to read my nametag.
“Anna,” I said.
“Thank you, Anna,” she said in a husky voice that made my knees weak. I needed to get my shit together
ASAP. I wobbled back to the kitchen and called out an order for a dirty chai and nabbed Jen who was
right in the middle of assembling sandwiches.
“There’s a photographer here who wants to do a story or something on the café. Figured it could be
good publicity.” Jen nodded to me and finished the sandwiches before taking off her apron and washing
her hands.
“Pst,” Daisy, who was up to her elbows in dough, said over the half-wall that separated the kitchen
from the bakery.
“You talking to me?” I asked, leaning back.
“Yeah. Who’s that hottie you were talking to?” I rolled my eyes. Guess I’d had an audience when I’d
been talking to Lacey. You couldn’t do anything in this town without someone catching wind of it.
“No one,” I replied and then went to pick up Lacey’s drink. My hand shook just the tiniest bit when I
brought it to her. Fuck. I was really having some serious issues. I wish I still smoked. I could use a
cigarette right about now. Calm me down. Or maybe a shot of something.
“Here you go,” I said to Lacey, who was deep in conversation with Jen.
“Thanks,” she said, glancing up and shooting me a smile that made me flutter in several places. Damn. I
needed to get away from her so I could keep my wits about me.
I went back to work and dealt with my other tables, but my attention kept drifting back over to the
corner where Lacey was. Fortunately, I had a woman asking me for every single ingredient in every single
menu item (she wasn’t eating “that bad stuff that’s in bread,” aka, gluten), and by the time I sold her on a
salad, Lacey was gone. I almost breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, then I scurried back to the kitchen
with the pretense of picking up an order and asked Jen what Lacey had wanted.
Jen had a shiny business card in her hand.
“She wants to take some pictures and write a story about the café. I’m sure Sal is totally going to go for
it.” She rolled her eyes. Sal wasn’t a fan of having her picture taken.
“But it could be good publicity, right? I mean, it would get us out there. Maybe it would bring in more
business.” Not that we seriously needed it. We seemed to do just fine, even in the winter when all the
tourists left and it was just the locals. There were the regulars who came every morning for their coffee,
or during lunch, and there were always kids using our Wi-Fi after school.
“Sure, it could be. Or maybe it will bring a bunch of fucking homophobes to protest outside. You know
how those nuts troll the internet for queers to harass.” Well yes, there was that, but we were just a tiny
café in Maine. It was a liberal state. And the town loved us.
“Or maybe it will bring in a bunch of new business and will end up being a great idea.” I didn’t know
why I was so on board with this thing. It wasn’t like I really cared that much. But there was something
about Lacey. Something I couldn’t put my finger on.
Jen sighed.
“Ugh, I don’t have time for this. Since you seem to be so excited about it, how about you negotiate with
Lacey? Sit down and figure out what she wants and so forth. And maybe think of a good way to pitch this
to Sal so she won’t flip out. Can you do that?” Sure, I could do that. I only had three jobs, but I could add
this on top of them. Besides, Sal and Jen had given me a job and had been so good about the hours I could
work. They were like family. Hell, they were a lot better to me than my actual family.
“Uh, yeah, I think I can handle that,” I said, feeling my face go a little red. There was something
seriously wrong with me right now. Jen handed me the business card.
“You are the best. Oh, I posted the new schedule. Just let me know when you can’t be here and we’ll
work around it.” She patted me on the shoulder and got back to the kitchen. I was supposed to leave in a
few so I could get to my other job at the library down the street. I shook myself, slipped the card into my
pocket, and went to finish my last few tables so I wouldn’t be late.
Two
I got back to my place at a reasonable time, but I had a ton of publicity work that had piled up during
the week. I tried to set myself a schedule and stick to it, but I’d been slacking lately. I had several blog
tours to organize and a ton of graphics for a new release, but the second I opened Photoshop I swear my
eyes crossed. Maybe a shower first.
I was taking off my clothes and checking the pockets when I found the business card. I hadn’t forgotten
about it. Well, I’d forgotten about the card, but not about Lacey. I sighed and set the card on the edge of the
sink as I put my hair up. Since I liked to keep my color as long as possible, I only washed it every third
day. It was still fading too much for my liking. I was going to have to do another color job sooner rather
than later.
Lacey. I had volunteered to talk to her about taking pictures and doing a story of the café. Why had I
agreed to that?
Because I would do anything if a hot person was involved. I really was shameless. Shaking my head at
myself, I got in the shower and did my thing, but I couldn’t stop picturing Lacey’s beautiful face and
feeling the tingles she gave me when she’d walked into the café.
Fuck. When I fell, I fell hard and fast. And I was already feeling something for Lacey. If I let myself, I
could definitely fall for her. But falling also scared the shit out of me, which was why I stopped dating
anyone when it got too real. It was so much less messy to just fuck and have that be it. I hadn’t been in a
relationship in so long that I’d pretty much forgotten what it was like to be in one. Flirting and fucking
was so much easier. So much less complicated.
Why was I thinking about this? I needed to get a grip. Shaking my head at myself, I got out a brush to
detangle my hair. It was early, but I was exhausted. And I still had work to do. Maybe work would take
my mind off of Lacey. That was probably a smart idea. Work was good. Money was good.
Thinking about a pretty girl and how she made you feel wasn’t the wisest choice for me, I had too much
else going on. And I didn’t need complications. Nope. I was going to be a professional and contact Lacey
in a professional manner because I was a professional.
Maybe if I said it enough times to myself, I’d actually do it.
*^*^*
I stressed the whole next day at the library for my morning shift. I was so out of it, that I had trouble
shelving the books, even though I could normally do that in my sleep. I knew I had to contact Lacey ASAP
and that Jen was going to ask me about it when I got to work later. So, I sucked it up and got out my phone
when I had my lunch break before heading to the café.
Please let me leave a message, please let me leave a message, I thought as the phone rang. Of course,
she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, may I please speak with Lacey Cole?” I probably sounded like someone who was trying to sound
professional, without actually sounding professional. Why was I such a dork sometimes?
“This is she,” she said and I could hear a lot of background noise.
“Yes, hi, hello, this is Anna, from the Violet Hill Café? Jen asked me to call you and work things out
with what you had in mind for the photos and the story.” I had practiced what I wanted to say and I still
sounded awful. Why was I like this? Why couldn’t I be confident? Oh, right, because she was gorgeous. I
had such a weakness for pretty people.
“Oh, hello, Anna,” she said, and I swore she was smiling when she said it. I could just hear it in her
voice.
“Hi,” I said again, like a dope. Wow, I needed to get this situation over with so I didn’t embarrass
myself further.
“I’m actually doing some work in a friend’s studio. That’s how I found out about the café. Do you want
to meet me there and we can discuss?” Oh, well. I guess?
“Um, sure. I have to work until seven tonight, though. Could I come after?” I hoped she would say yes
so I could just get this done.
“Yeah, that works. It’s the Shelly Jones photography studio. Do you know it?” Oh. Yeah. I did. She
specialized in taking sexy boudoir photos. Mostly of women to give to their men on Christmas and
Valentine’s Day. Not exactly the kind of person I could see hanging out with Lacey, but then again I didn’t
know much about her. I’d been tempted to stalk her online, but had refrained out of self-preservation.
“Does eight work for you?” she asked. Shit, her voice was so sexy.
“Yeah,” I said. “Um, see you then?”
“See you then, Anna.” I tried not to imagine her saying my name in the throes of passion. I did not need
that in my brain, thank you.
“Okay, bye,” I said before hanging up.
Please let me be more suave tonight. Please.
*^*^*
I told Jen that I was meeting with Lacey after work and she seemed satisfied with that.
“You told Sal anything?” Jen rolled her eyes. Today she was rocking several shades of glittery shadow
that made her eyelids look like a galaxy. I would never be able to pull of that look, but she could.
“I’ll only tell her when it’s a definite. You know how she feels about ‘social media clickbait’,” she
said, using her fingers to make air quotes.
“Yup, I do.” For someone who was still quite young, Sal was a hardcore Luddite. She didn’t even like
people paying with cards, and Jen had had to talk her into upgrading their equipment all the time. But she
was a lovable grump and I adored them both.
“So, maybe get something in writing? Like a proposal or something? I don’t know. Just some
parameters so we know what’s what.” That sounded like a good idea, and something that hadn’t even
crossed my mind.
“I will. I’ll work up something with Lacey.” Why did that sound totally dirty? I could feel myself
blushing, but Jen didn’t seem to notice.
“Sounds good.” I got through the rest of my shift and hurried home to shower and get myself presentable
before driving over to the photography studio. The lights were off on the first floor of the building, but
there was a glow on the second floor. I texted Lacey to let her know I was out front and she told me to
come around the back and head up the stairs.
I knocked on the door at the top of the dark stairs.
“It’s open,” Lacey called and I cautiously stuck my head in. She was working, crouched behind a
camera and taking photographs . . . of a cat.
“Hey,” I said, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on. The all-black cat sat placidly on an
elaborate velvet chaise, not even disturbed by the clicking of the lens or the lights trained on it.
Lacey looked up from the camera.
“Hey, sorry, I was just working with this new lens I got.” She grinned and set the camera on a desk in
the corner.
“Come here, Murder,” she said and wiggled her fingers toward the cat. Said cat gave her one look,
closed its eyes and fell asleep.
“Bastard,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
Lacey swiveled around and turned her attention to me, and suddenly I felt like I was the one under the
spotlights.
“So, come on in and have a seat,” she said, motioning to a little sitting area with two chairs and a table
in between them.

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