I pick up the voucher again, studying the faces of the couples, my gaze moving over the happiness in their eyes.
And then I remember the way my father gazed at me as he stumbled to the top of the staircase, as though he wanted me to help him, as though he wanted me to charge up there and take on the attackers that ultimately killed him.
But there was red blood gushing from his throat and his voice was strangled as he croaked down at me, “Run, run, run…”
I bite down, staring at Russ. “If you were anybody else, I’d throw you off that damn balcony.”
“But I’m not anybody else.”
“I’d never expect this sort of sappy shit from you.”
“Right back at you, Kaleb. Right. Back. At you.”
I sigh and place the voucher down. “Something tells me you’re not going to quit until I say yes.”
“You might be right about that.”
“So if I say yes, we can drink our beers in peace?”
He nods. “I think that’s fair.”
“Fine, then yes, I’ll go to the stupid photography thing. But I want you to know this is the weirdest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Fair enough. But weird or not, if it means meeting this mystical woman you’ve brought up over the years, I’ll consider it a job well done.”
I take a long pull of my beer, letting my gaze move over the horizon, as though I’m going to find her glittering in the late-day sunlight.
I want to tell Russ this is a complete waste of time.
But the fact is he might be right.
Maybe I’ll finally find her, the woman I’ll claim, the woman who will change everything.
I doubt it, but I’ve already told him I’ll go.
And a man is nothing if he doesn’t keep his word.
So I’m fucked.
I’ll just have to get through it the best I can.
Chapter Three
Kelly
I walk down the hallway toward the photography studio, my belly swirling with nerves and my instincts screaming at me to turn back and get the heck out of here as quickly as I can.
All during the drive over I kept glancing at the exits on the freeway, debating turning back at every single one, but I promised Natalie, and – apart from lusting after her dad – I pride myself on being a good friend.
I walk up to the reception desk, where a stunningly beautiful blonde sits, the sort of woman who makes me wonder if we’re even the same freaking species.
“Hello,” she says, smiling kindly up at me.
I often have to remind myself that not all pretty girls are like the mean ones I encountered in high school.
“Hello. I’m here for a photoshoot. I have this.”
I hand over my voucher, which is a plain piece of paper with a QR code printed on it.
The woman’s smile grows wider. “I have a short video to show you. This is one of our mystery coupons, you see.”
“Mystery…”
The woman turns her monitor and hits her space bar.
Natalie’s face fills the screen, a playful grin on her face.
“Hey, Kelly. So I may have done something a little naughty. This place isn’t just any photography studio. They specialize in blind-date photoshoots. So pretty soon you’ll be introduced to your eligible bachelor…”
I turn and glance at the exit, wondering if I can sprint away without making a scene. The waiting room is empty, and I don’t think the receptionist is going to leap over the desk to try and stop me.
“Right now, you’re probably thinking about getting the heck out of there.”
I giggle.
She can always read my mind, except when it comes to her dad.
“But I really, really want you to try this, Kelly. I think it would be great for you. I’m sorry for tricking you, but we both know you never would’ve agreed if I’d told you the whole truth. It’s a bit of fun. That’s all. Please stay. Okay. That’s it. I love you, sister-I-never-had.”
The receptionist turns her screen back around and then smiles up at me. “So would you like to continue? We offer full refunds for our mystery service users, so there’s no pressure. What I will say is your friend is right. Most people come away very glad they’ve done it, even if they were nervous … maybe even especially when they were nervous. But the choice is yours.”
I laugh again, shaking my head. “She told me there were no refunds. It was the only way she got me to come down here.”
The woman smiles. “So what would you like to do?”
I glance around the empty waiting room. The walls are covered in professional photographs of smiling couples, all of them looking as though they’ve been married for years, as though their love for each other is unquestionable.
“Are all these of mystery couples?” I ask, gesturing at the photographs.
“They sure are.”
“But you chose the best ones.” My cheeks begin to flame at the forwardness of my remark, but I can’t help it. It’s true. It must be true. “You wouldn’t have put the disasters up here, would you? And you must have had them, couples who spent the whole session feeling like the ground was going to swallow them up, people who wouldn’t smile even a little bit.”