“The photographer for tomorrow’s photo shoot? No. I’ve been, um, a little busy since my morning yoga class. Haven’t paid attention to notifications.”
Sara’s heavy sigh blew through the phone speaker. “He got food poisoning, so he can’t make the drive from Miami today. He’s a no-go for the AllFit shoot in the morning.”
“Oh crap! And Brandon’s on his way here already, isn’t he?” Anamaría slapped a hand over her forehead, the news making her do exactly what Sara had advised against, freak out. “Um, let me think who I could try locally. I know a few photographers; it’s just a matter of whether or not one of them’s available?”
“If worse comes to worst, I can take the pictures myself,” Sara suggested. “Brandon and I have a good eye. So do you. We should be fine.”
“In a pinch, I’d say okay. But with Brandon coming all this way, I’d hate to not use a professional if we can avoid that,” Anamaría said. The guy was planning to give her first AllFit post a boost by sharing their pictures on his social media accounts, tagging her to help drive his followers to her feed.
“¿Qué pasa?” Alejandro whispered over her shoulder.
She waved him off, then stopped, an idea taking hold. A crazy one. But definitely their best option.
“Hey, Sara, give me a few minutes. I might have a solution.”
“You do? What is it?” Sara asked, surprise raising her voice an octave.
“Let me see if it’ll work first. I’ll call you in about ten, when I’m on my way to the Casa Marina for another group class.” After reassuring Sara that she did indeed have something up her sleeve, Anamaría disconnected the call. Tapping her cell on her chin, she stared blindly at the front yard as she considered the pros and cons of what she was about to propose.
“What’s going on?” Alejandro asked.
Craning her neck, she peeked at him over her shoulder. “You’re tired of being confined to the house. Watching telenovelas with your abuela. Right?”
Alejandro eyed her suspiciously but nodded and step-swung on the crutches to stand beside her on the patio’s edge. He squinted down at her under the late-morning sun.
“Got any plans tomorrow?” she asked.
His “pffft” and accompanying scowl boded well for her scheme.
“I’m waiting to hear back from Marcelo about whether the art consultant he knows in Chicago is available. So, you’re pretty much looking at my plans.” He waved a hand down his front, then at the empty yard. “Although ’Buela’s telenovela is really starting to heat up. El patrón is about to find out—”
“Okay, okay, stop!” she said on a laugh, holding up her hands. “Then I have a proposition for you.”
“Oye, what kind of guy do you take me for?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock horror. “First you feel me up, now you’re propositioning me?”
“¡Ay Dios mío, por favor!” She bumped her shoulder against his, relieved that their up close and personal moment earlier hadn’t made things awkward. “I’m in a bind, but I have an idea that’ll get you out of the house, get me some fantastic photographs courtesy of the best photographer currently on the island—”
“Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” He winked, that cocky grin of his flashing again.
“Thought so.” She wrinkled her nose at him playfully. “And, my idea will stop our moms from trying to finagle a way to get us together. Mainly because we’ll already be together.”
“Hmm, I’m intrigued.” Alejandro twisted to glance back inside the house where his mami and abuela now sat on the floral couch in front of the television, smiles wide as they waved at him.
Of course the two women were watching. They were probably taking notes to report back to her mami.
Anamaría checked the time on her watch, not wanting to arrive late for her next session. She quickly filled Alejandro in on Brandon’s short time frame visit, their planned photo shoot at Higgs Beach and the White Street Pier, and the sick photographer.
“The wheelchair situation isn’t ideal, but I’ll manage,” Alejandro said. “I’d want to get a rundown on any particular shots AllFit has in mind. As well as what you and Brandon are thinking. Maybe Sara, too, since she’s got experience with similar shoots.”
“Are you sure? This is a big ask. And we’re . . .” Anamaría trailed off, unsure how to describe what the heck they were now.
“We’re two professionals helping each other. I haven’t taken a picture since my epic swan dive and could stand to get out of here for a bit. You need my stellar skills. Win-win.” He pivoted on his good leg to face her, lifting his crutches off the tile this time to avoid a replay of his earlier debacle.
He lifted a hand to cup her shoulder, but his gaze slid to the front window where his mami and abuela sat in plain view. Furtively watching as if Anamaría and Alejandro were their telenovela come to life.
His hand dropped back to the crutch handgrip.
Probably a good thing. Based on the way she had nearly combusted at his simple ass grab a few minutes ago.
“Okay, let me get your number and I’ll text you Sara’s. I’m booked with classes and private sessions, so I won’t be available until midafternoon.” Anamaría pulled her cell from her leggings pocket and handed it to him. As soon as he was done saving his information in her contacts, she stepped off the porch. Spinning around to point at him, she backpedaled across the grass. “Now you need to get inside and elevate that leg, so you’re not in pain tomorrow because you overdid it today.”
“I’m fine.”
She shook her head. “Suck it up and call your PT. Stick with her for at least a couple weeks to make sure you know what the hell you’re doing and don’t reinjure yourself. Even if it’s just to pacify your mom.”
“Nag, nag, nag.”
The playful smirk on his lips teased another curl of desire whisking through her.
“I think you should let her know about your you know what,” she said, purposefully speaking in veiled words out of respect for his secret but not wanting to leave without letting him know she was in his corner. Even if it was in a different capacity than before. “It’s a great opportunity, Ale. I’m excited for you. Everyone will be excited about your exhibit. He’ll understand. Trust me. It takes time, but he will come around.”
Alejandro’s expression sobered at her reference to his father.
“I’m really happy for you, Ale,” she offered. “Bellísima’s lucky they’re getting to show your work.”
He dipped his head in thanks, though his joy had dimmed. “I appreciate it.”
“And you’re lucky that you’ll get to work with me mañana.” She winked, pleased at his bark of laughter as she sent him a loose-fingered wave and slipped out of the Mirandas’ yard.
Inside her car, she lowered the windows and put the AC on high to cool off the interior; then, using the Bluetooth connection, she dialed Sara. As the phone rang, she hoped she’d made the right move by asking for Alejandro’s help. Prayed that they could bank their lingering attraction for the short time he was here. Because clearly it wasn’t extinguished.