Alejandro gestured to the three-ring-circus contraption on his leg with a grimace. “My latest among many. Some with regret.”
Sara’s head tilted to the side, as if she was considering him. “I have to admit, I might come to like you.” She grinned, then wagged a finger at him in a move reminiscent of his Cuban mami when she lectured, “Just remember, if it comes down to a choice between you or Anamaría—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “You’re Team AM, all the way.”
She shrugged her pale shoulders, bared by her yellow sundress straps and, he made a note to ask if she had slathered on sunblock. “That’s how we Navarros roll.”
Yes, they did. All their generations looked out for each other.
Too bad the same couldn’t be said with his familia. Not when it came to him and his dad. Alejandro had been home for almost two weeks. In that time, he and his papi hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words since that first night.
Sara pushed him the rest of the way down the length of the pier, stopping once they reached the top of the nearly twenty-foot wide compass painted in the center of the wide rectangular area. “Where do you want to set up?”
Alejandro scanned their surroundings. Off to the right two older gentlemen leaned against the waist-high concrete balustrade, a brown tackle box resting between them on the top rail, fishing poles in hand, a blue cooler at their feet. An older man and woman in shorts and matching “Life Is Better in the Keys” tees waved hello as they pedaled their rental bikes around the perimeter, then made their way back down the pier.
“Let’s claim this spot.” He pointed straight ahead, dead center between the two sides. “That way I can angle to get the open ocean and watercolor skies as a backdrop, without the sun shading out Anamaría or Brandon. You mind posing for a few test shots?”
“Sure!” Sara padded over, then hoisted herself up to sit on the two-foot-wide concrete railing. Knees bent, arms wrapped underneath them to keep her dress from blowing up in the wind, she tipped her face to the sky. “It’s a gorgeous morning, isn’t it?”
“Great conditions for photography,” he answered, already peering through his camera lens, the rhythmic whirr with each press of the button a sound as naturally a part of him as the beat of his heart.
A sense of déjà vu tickled the back of his neck. Taking early-morning photographs off the White Street Pier with Anamaría as his model was nothing new. Back then he’d been practicing, learning, deleting . . . trying to hone his craft.
This time, he was here for her. To support her career aspirations, not his. Something Alejandro was ashamed to realize was a first.
He had always been certain about pursuing photography as a career.
Anamaría had been uncertain where her passion lay. He had pushed her to join him, thinking she could find her place out there with him. But she had come into her own here. Her island roots, interwoven with those of her familia and their comunidad, had grown stronger, helping her to flourish.
“¡Buenos días!”
Anamaría’s good morning cry coming from down the pier had Alejandro’s finger slipping off his Canon’s shutter button.
Today was important to her. That meant he’d do whatever the hell was needed to ensure its success.
She had encouraged him when he’d been starting out. Now, he had a chance to show his appreciation for the gift she’d given him back then by doing the same.
Chapter 11
“There they are.” Anamaría pointed at Sara and Alejandro up ahead as she and Brandon Lawson strolled down the White Street Pier together.
Despite her trepidation about the forecast for potential morning showers, the weather had cooperated marvelously for her first AllFit photo shoot. Clear, picturesque skies with cotton candy clouds tinted by the sun’s peachy, pinky rays greeted them and a salt water–tinged breeze chased away the humidity.
She called out a greeting to Sara, perched on the concrete balustrade ledge lining the perimeter of the large open area at the end of the pier. The few remaining jitters in Anamaría’s belly settled as her gaze moved to Alejandro, sitting in his wheelchair, a padded black backpack unzipped on the ground near his feet. With his back to her, she couldn’t tell for sure, but she’d bet he was already snapping pics and making adjustments.
Sara had worried that having him here might be a distraction. That Anamaría would feel awkward or strained, which would definitely affect the photos. Oddly, she found comfort in having him behind the camera for her first big shoot. She could almost pretend this was like all the other times they’d spent with him snapping pics of her for practice. No pressure. Only fun.
Beside her, Brandon gave his signature head toss to send his floppy bangs out of his eyes as he waved to Sara. Picking him up at his downtown hotel had been a good icebreaker for Anamaría and the well-known trainer, as Sara had wisely suggested. Turned out, Brandon was good friends with one of AllFit’s founders and had been their “face” from the beginning, even after his status as a professional tri-athlete and go-to celebrity trainer had taken off. And yet, despite his notoriety as a leading social media influencer in his field, like Sara he was surprisingly down-to-earth.
“Good morning!” Sara hopped off the railing and spread her arms wide in welcome, the skirt of her yellow sundress billowing in the breeze. “Who’s ready to take some pics that’ll have followers racing to share and clamoring for more?”
Brandon laughed at the overly boisterous greeting. “That’s the plan. Not a bad way to spend my first visit to Key West.”
Alejandro palmed the wheelchair tires, swiveling himself around to face Brandon and her. He had swapped his wrinkled-tee look for a respectable short-sleeved button-down and chinos but hadn’t bothered to shave again. His wind-tousled hair, trendy sunglasses, and scruffy beard gave him a roguish vibe that fit with his adventurous streak. Unfortunately for someone trying to squelch her unwanted attraction, his vibe stroked a lusty chord within her.
Sara strolled over to give Brandon a hug, making small talk about his flight down and his accommodations.
“AM, you ready?” Alejandro asked, his voice pitched low, drawing her closer so she could hear.
“Excited. Maybe a little nervous.” She angled away from the others before admitting, “I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Just be yourself. The camera loves you. It always has.”
She was certain his pep talk was simply meant to bolster her confidence, not touch her heart. Still, it did. “Ale, I really—”
“Here, let me introduce the two of you.” Sara ushered Brandon over, interrupting Anamaría. Probably saving her from being the one who made the photo shoot awkward by letting old emotions color this new phase of their relationship.
Brandon approached, his hand extended. “It’s great to meet you. I gotta say, after Sara mentioned your name last night, I Googled and am a new fan. Impressive work!”
The two men, both striking in their own way, shook hands, their conversation becoming a display of mutual admiration for each other’s professional accomplishments.
Sara stepped behind Brandon to greet Anamaría with a hug and cheek kiss, then looped an arm through one of Anamaría’s, leaning close to whisper. “Aren’t we the lucky ones working with these two today? Although they could say the same about us, right?”