place, I know, but I’m meeting Kyle Waters there. Sure you’ve heard of him – does photos of urban decay and renewal. Believe it or not, the BP is a fine example of both. I’m there to watch him work. We can talk after.
Again the response was almost immediate.
All right. I’m intrigued. But we leave before the police arrive and the raid begins!
She chuckled to herself as she replied.
Will do my best to keep us out of jail, Mr. W. See you there.
Can’t wait :-/ came the reply.
And instantly Stacie was in a better mood than she had been since Jamison arrived at the auction last night. It would be a rough ride from here on out, so she would happily take whatever good cheer she could get. If that cheer came in the form of Harris Walker, surly, moody but totally hot photographer extraordinaire – well, so much the better.
Chapter Nine
The Boiling Point was as dark and shadowy as ever, though quieter than usual, since it was only seven in the evening. But even if the room had been crowded, Harris would have immediately picked out Stacie Emerson. The woman had a polish and shine about her that set her apart. Granted, there wasn’t much competition here when it came to polish and shine, but still, he was pretty sure she would be eye-catching anywhere. She sat in a booth across from Kyle Waters wearing snug-fitting red trousers and a black tank top that wasn’t risqué by any means, but on her, it didn’t have to be. On her it said classy and sexy in a place where both were seriously lacking. Not that Harris minded a little biker bar smuttiness from time to time, but wow, it was highly overrated when Stacie was in the room.
She motioned him over with an enthusiastic wave.
‘I hardly recognized the place without the long row of Harleys outside or the lovely smell of pot wafting through the air,’ Harris said.
Stacie gave him a wicked smile. ‘The night’s still young.’
He slipped into the booth next to her and offered a handshake to Kyle Waters, who sat across from her looking like a cat who’d just eaten a very succulent can of tuna. ‘Waters. Good to meet you.’ It surprised Harris to realize that it really wasn’t, that he really wasn’t keen on sharing Stacie’s time with a man who looked a little too much like someone had used an airbrush on him.
The man returned a hearty handshake. ‘Love your work, Walker. Great to finally meet you in person.’
Harris was pleasantly surprised when Stacie kissed him warmly on the cheek. ‘That is for the mountain lion,’ she said, when he shot her an inquisitive look. ‘And thanks for agreeing to talk with me here. I know you have tender feelings for the Boiling Point, but I wanted you to join us because I’m here to watch Kyle work. That’s a part of the PR for the exhibition, which, if you agree to work with me, I’d want to do with you as well. I like to understand, as much as I possibly can, the artists who exhibit in my galleries and what inspires them. That also helps me plan the best, most effective way to display and promote your work.’ She shoved her iPad across the table to him. ‘These are some of the pictures Kyle took in Brazil.’
Harris glanced down at the iPad then back up at the photographer, who shrugged modestly. ‘Those are just raw images. I haven’t had time to work with them yet or to choose the best ones.’
‘Everything of Kyle’s work I’ll be using – and of yours if you agree to the exhibition – will be from the Northwest only, of course,’ Stacie said.
Harris had seen Waters’ work before and, though he found urban photography a bit claustrophobic, he had to admit this was powerful and gritty in ways that captured the observer and drew him in.
With a quick flick of her fingers, Stacie brought up another page. ‘These are the images Kyle’s taken of the Boiling Point so far this evening They’ll be exhibited along with this set taken ten years ago, and these that were taken when the building was
Again the response was almost immediate.
All right. I’m intrigued. But we leave before the police arrive and the raid begins!
She chuckled to herself as she replied.
Will do my best to keep us out of jail, Mr. W. See you there.
Can’t wait :-/ came the reply.
And instantly Stacie was in a better mood than she had been since Jamison arrived at the auction last night. It would be a rough ride from here on out, so she would happily take whatever good cheer she could get. If that cheer came in the form of Harris Walker, surly, moody but totally hot photographer extraordinaire – well, so much the better.
Chapter Nine
The Boiling Point was as dark and shadowy as ever, though quieter than usual, since it was only seven in the evening. But even if the room had been crowded, Harris would have immediately picked out Stacie Emerson. The woman had a polish and shine about her that set her apart. Granted, there wasn’t much competition here when it came to polish and shine, but still, he was pretty sure she would be eye-catching anywhere. She sat in a booth across from Kyle Waters wearing snug-fitting red trousers and a black tank top that wasn’t risqué by any means, but on her, it didn’t have to be. On her it said classy and sexy in a place where both were seriously lacking. Not that Harris minded a little biker bar smuttiness from time to time, but wow, it was highly overrated when Stacie was in the room.
She motioned him over with an enthusiastic wave.
‘I hardly recognized the place without the long row of Harleys outside or the lovely smell of pot wafting through the air,’ Harris said.
Stacie gave him a wicked smile. ‘The night’s still young.’
He slipped into the booth next to her and offered a handshake to Kyle Waters, who sat across from her looking like a cat who’d just eaten a very succulent can of tuna. ‘Waters. Good to meet you.’ It surprised Harris to realize that it really wasn’t, that he really wasn’t keen on sharing Stacie’s time with a man who looked a little too much like someone had used an airbrush on him.
The man returned a hearty handshake. ‘Love your work, Walker. Great to finally meet you in person.’
Harris was pleasantly surprised when Stacie kissed him warmly on the cheek. ‘That is for the mountain lion,’ she said, when he shot her an inquisitive look. ‘And thanks for agreeing to talk with me here. I know you have tender feelings for the Boiling Point, but I wanted you to join us because I’m here to watch Kyle work. That’s a part of the PR for the exhibition, which, if you agree to work with me, I’d want to do with you as well. I like to understand, as much as I possibly can, the artists who exhibit in my galleries and what inspires them. That also helps me plan the best, most effective way to display and promote your work.’ She shoved her iPad across the table to him. ‘These are some of the pictures Kyle took in Brazil.’
Harris glanced down at the iPad then back up at the photographer, who shrugged modestly. ‘Those are just raw images. I haven’t had time to work with them yet or to choose the best ones.’
‘Everything of Kyle’s work I’ll be using – and of yours if you agree to the exhibition – will be from the Northwest only, of course,’ Stacie said.
Harris had seen Waters’ work before and, though he found urban photography a bit claustrophobic, he had to admit this was powerful and gritty in ways that captured the observer and drew him in.
With a quick flick of her fingers, Stacie brought up another page. ‘These are the images Kyle’s taken of the Boiling Point so far this evening They’ll be exhibited along with this set taken ten years ago, and these that were taken when the building was
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