success could stop him getting some terminal illness or being hit by a bus (or in Daisy’s case, a car).
It would be easy to attribute this dissatisfaction with his life to Daisy’s death, only when he started to think about it, it had been gathering steam a good few months before his friend died.
His solution? Work the hell even harder. Learn a new technique, expand the services or courses offered by his off-shoot company, Shooting Stars, or simply take on more clients. He found this worked most of the time. He was ruthless with himself, and if he didn’t want to think about being dissatisfied, he didn’t. But today when he woke up with the alarm and went for his usual morning run, the gnawing emptiness inside him was stronger than it had been in quite some time.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about Daisy’s sister sleeping in that hovel in a shady part of town.
No matter how much he told himself Holly McCartney wasn’t his problem, he couldn’t put her out of his mind.
Things hadn’t improved. He’d snapped through his last session on auto-pilot. Luckily the C-list soap opera actress who had ambitions to hit the big screen big time had barely noticed, so consumed with herself she hadn’t realized he wasn’t a hundred percent on the job. And she’d been an easy subject, pretty thing with all the looks and not much actual talent, so he’d be able to create a superb portfolio for her with what he’d got. That would get her into auditions but after that, she’d be on her own and he didn’t much like her chances of getting any further.
Then, he’d eaten lunch in—take out Thai collected by his PA, Louise—and tried to focus his energies on mentally preparing for the afternoon session. This celebrity was a big one and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Like Madonna and Cher, she went by first name only. Noella. She’d been the star in the movie Daisy was nominated for Best Supporting Actress for and she was up for Best Actress. She didn’t want these shots for publicity, she wanted them for her fiancé and planned to give them to him as a wedding gift. She wanted intimate, tasteful shots and he knew at least three other top-notch celebrity photographers had failed to please her. He’d allocated all afternoon to shooting her in the studio and the next two days were booked for location shots.
When she’d finally arrived, he’d made all the right gushing noises and ensured every member of his staff fussed over Noella as if she were the Queen, but he couldn’t bring himself to give her the attention she deserved.
He wanted to scream and shout and let out all the tension and anxiety that riddled his body. What the hell was he thinking, worrying about Holly? She was a grown woman who’d thrown his offer of hospitality in his face. Fact she was gorgeous didn’t make up one tenth for her hoity-toighty temperament and her shocking treatment of her sister.
Determined to get his focus back on track, he lifted his camera for the hundredth time that day and prepared to shoot the best photo of Noella she’d ever seen. As his finger pressed down on the shutter, Louise broke through the door.
He glared at her. She knew better than to interrupt him during a session.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Devlin but you’ve got an old friend on the phone and he says it’s urgent. I’ve already told him no a couple of times but he says you’ll want to hear about this.”
“Does this old friend have a name?”
“Big Dog?”
Noella raised her eyebrows at Louise’s response. Nate’s heart slammed into his chest cavity.
“I’ll take it in my office,” he said, knowing Louise would look after Noella. Putting his camera down on a stand, he exited the studio.
“This better be good,” he said five seconds later when he picked up his office phone. He’d worked with Big Dog on the streets when he was a teen. Dog had been all over the globe shooting photos since—still enthralled with celebrities and
It would be easy to attribute this dissatisfaction with his life to Daisy’s death, only when he started to think about it, it had been gathering steam a good few months before his friend died.
His solution? Work the hell even harder. Learn a new technique, expand the services or courses offered by his off-shoot company, Shooting Stars, or simply take on more clients. He found this worked most of the time. He was ruthless with himself, and if he didn’t want to think about being dissatisfied, he didn’t. But today when he woke up with the alarm and went for his usual morning run, the gnawing emptiness inside him was stronger than it had been in quite some time.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about Daisy’s sister sleeping in that hovel in a shady part of town.
No matter how much he told himself Holly McCartney wasn’t his problem, he couldn’t put her out of his mind.
Things hadn’t improved. He’d snapped through his last session on auto-pilot. Luckily the C-list soap opera actress who had ambitions to hit the big screen big time had barely noticed, so consumed with herself she hadn’t realized he wasn’t a hundred percent on the job. And she’d been an easy subject, pretty thing with all the looks and not much actual talent, so he’d be able to create a superb portfolio for her with what he’d got. That would get her into auditions but after that, she’d be on her own and he didn’t much like her chances of getting any further.
Then, he’d eaten lunch in—take out Thai collected by his PA, Louise—and tried to focus his energies on mentally preparing for the afternoon session. This celebrity was a big one and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Like Madonna and Cher, she went by first name only. Noella. She’d been the star in the movie Daisy was nominated for Best Supporting Actress for and she was up for Best Actress. She didn’t want these shots for publicity, she wanted them for her fiancé and planned to give them to him as a wedding gift. She wanted intimate, tasteful shots and he knew at least three other top-notch celebrity photographers had failed to please her. He’d allocated all afternoon to shooting her in the studio and the next two days were booked for location shots.
When she’d finally arrived, he’d made all the right gushing noises and ensured every member of his staff fussed over Noella as if she were the Queen, but he couldn’t bring himself to give her the attention she deserved.
He wanted to scream and shout and let out all the tension and anxiety that riddled his body. What the hell was he thinking, worrying about Holly? She was a grown woman who’d thrown his offer of hospitality in his face. Fact she was gorgeous didn’t make up one tenth for her hoity-toighty temperament and her shocking treatment of her sister.
Determined to get his focus back on track, he lifted his camera for the hundredth time that day and prepared to shoot the best photo of Noella she’d ever seen. As his finger pressed down on the shutter, Louise broke through the door.
He glared at her. She knew better than to interrupt him during a session.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Devlin but you’ve got an old friend on the phone and he says it’s urgent. I’ve already told him no a couple of times but he says you’ll want to hear about this.”
“Does this old friend have a name?”
“Big Dog?”
Noella raised her eyebrows at Louise’s response. Nate’s heart slammed into his chest cavity.
“I’ll take it in my office,” he said, knowing Louise would look after Noella. Putting his camera down on a stand, he exited the studio.
“This better be good,” he said five seconds later when he picked up his office phone. He’d worked with Big Dog on the streets when he was a teen. Dog had been all over the globe shooting photos since—still enthralled with celebrities and
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