That hadn’t changed in the last two weeks, unfortunately. She was still tongue-tied around him.
Elise watched a droplet of condensation slide down the front of her glass, wishing she were back in her nice, safe room at the bed-and-breakfast. Rome Lozada, the hottest man that Elise had ever seen, thought she was a snob and too good for the men in Bluebonnet.
Yep. That clinched it. The world was definitely not fair.
• • •
Elise stared at the email rejection in her inbox, wondering if it was possible to have your heart broken through a message. If so, hers had just been pounded into smithereens.
While it’s a great idea, Crissy had written, I’m afraid that I’m not a big fan of the photographs. There’s something missing in them. There’s no life, no energy. I hate to say it, but they read like they were taken by a teenager, not a grown woman. I know you’ve been working hard at finding the right thing for the magazine, but this isn’t it, either. I keep coming back to the feeling that your pictures are a little too safe and unmemorable. It’s like . . . there’s not enough life experience and it shows in the photos. I’d love to have you take a year off, go out and live a little, and then come back with a fresh, bolder perspective.
Professionally, Elise knew it was great feedback and an encouraging response.
Personally . . . it hurt.
She’d been friends with Crissy since college, when they’d both taken journalism classes. Elise had steered toward photojournalism while Crissy had gone more toward the editorial side, but they’d remained friends even after graduation, and had vowed to work together on a future project. Crissy had been working for a popular women’s magazine for the last few years, and Elise had submitted a few concepts for photo spreads, but each time they were rejected with the same sort of commentary.
Lifeless.
Something missing.
Not quite what we’re looking for.
Unmemorable.
Not enough life experience.
How the heck did something like that show in her photographs? Elise didn’t understand. Her photos were gorgeous—not that she was biased, of course. They were crisp, the colors were good, but when she looked at them again, she had to agree: something was missing.
She just didn’t know what that something was.
Frustrated, Elise opened up Photoshop and stared at the pictures she’d sent to Crissy, trying to determine what was wrong. They were photos she’d taken a week or so ago of Rome Lozada, he of the gorgeous body and even more gorgeous face. He looked delectable, of course. Nothing could make that man look bad. In the photo, he was covered in mud and his skin was gleaming with beaded droplets of water. He looked insanely good and her heart ached just gazing at him.
But like Crissy said, there was something off in the photo. It wasn’t Rome. It wasn’t the scene. It was just . . . Elise didn’t know. Heck, if she knew, she’d be able to fix the issue.
Unable to come to a conclusion, she flicked her mouse and Photoshopped a crayon-like smile on Rome Lozada’s face.
Take that.
Considering the picture, she played with a couple of editing filters and ended up elongating his crotch to a ridiculous length, just because it made her laugh. The things we go through to feel better about our work, she mused to herself.
She set the modified picture as her computer desktop background just to amuse herself, and then sighed in frustration. She’d been hoping that photo shoot would lead to a layout, and that layout would be her big break. It would have also given her yet another chance to see Rome Lozada, shirtless and sexy.
More than anything, it would have been her chance to prove herself.
Unfortunately, Elise was getting nowhere fast. She had a backup business in mind with Beth Ann—pinup photography. But Beth Ann wouldn’t be back for several weeks, as she’d gone to Alaska on her honeymoon with Colt just yesterday. So while the pinup photography would be fun, it was on hold at the moment. She needed Beth Ann for hair and make-up and for dealing with people. She couldn’t do it on her own.
So Elise was more or less at odds and ends until she had a new project. She could return home with her parents, but the thought of doing that made her unhappy. She wanted to make something of herself.
She was tired of living at home. She was twenty-four years old. She’d been out of college for two years now, and she was still only freelancing for the occasional family photo.
Her parents wanted her to relax and take a break, since the photography was stressful. That was the problem with her parents. They sheltered her and thought she was fragile. Maybe she had been at one point, but she was an adult now, and she was tired of being protected from the world.
She needed to see things with new eyes.
How, she had no idea. Elise wasn’t good at jumping out of the box.
But . . . Brenna was. Elise considered this and then grabbed the keys to her rental car. Brenna would have ideas. Sure, they’d be insane ideas, but maybe she could sift through the crazy stuff and find a decent one that would be a start.
• • •
To Elise’s chagrin, the tiny parking lot at Wilderness Survival Expeditions was nearly full. She squeezed her rental into one of the back parking spaces in the gravel lot and then cautiously made her way toward the main cabin. Out on the front lawn, Dane Croft stood with a pack looped over one shoulder. Four men were lined up in front of him, all dressed in wilderness gear. They had no packs, and one had painted his face with camouflage and seemed to be devouring every word that Dane said.
They glanced over at her as she headed for the doorstep, and Elise self-consciously shrank back a bit.
Dane gave her a quick wave. “Hey there. We were just heading out.” He nodded at the men in front of him. “You guys ready?”
“Ready,” they chorused.
Dane nodded at her and then gestured for the men to follow him, and they took off across the grass in quick, eager footsteps.
Elise watched them leave, then headed into the main log cabin. Wilderness Survival Expeditions used to be a ranch, she had been told by her brother, Grant. An emu ranch, of all things. The main “house” of the business looked like an enormous log cabin, complete with rustic kitchen and enormous stone fireplace. Scattered around the parking lot were a handful of personal cabins where the instructors lived. They were all childhood friends of her brother . . . well, except for the newest one, Rome.
The hottest, most delicious, newest one, she thought. Elise sighed as she entered the cabin, biting her lip. Part of her wanted to open the door and see Rome, and part of her dreaded running into him.