#shoop

Brooklyn’s Industry City was a hub for creative types. Offices, studios, shops, and restaurants, all nestled into one big waterfront complex of buildings. It was really something. Jess had started renting the studio space four years ago, when her career as a photographer had finally taken off and she’d actually been able to make a living in New York City. It was nothing glamorous and she still struggled to make ends meet some months, but it was her dream. 

The studio itself was small, but it had everything she needed: a space to shoot with a simple rug and some carefully-thrifted furniture, a desk with her computer for editing, another table for mounting and framing prints. Half a dozen other photographers, all with their own specialties and styles, leased studios just like hers on the same floor. Down the hall, there was a shared printing lab, equipped with large format printers and scanners, cutters and every possible paper type you could ever need. The real reason Jess had chosen to set up shop at Industry City, though, was the darkroom. Sure, she could pay half as much to rent an empty room somewhere else in Brooklyn and make it work, or black out the windows of her apartment’s bathroom and develop film in her bathtub if she really had to, but it wasn’t ideal. Besides, hardly anyone shot film anymore, so she almost always had the darkroom to herself. 

Jess was just finishing up some prints, setting them on the wire rack to dry and putting her box of Ilford glossy eight-and-a-half-by-elevens away in the safety of the locker where her light-sensitive supplies lived, when her watch beeped. 

It was her ten-minute warning for the eleven-o’clock appointment she had scheduled with a new client. A simple job, he was looking for some new professional headshots. Easy. Shouldn’t take much time at all.

Jess pushed through the revolving door of the darkroom and stepped into the brightly lit print lab, squinting against the glare reflecting off of the white tiled floor. It was like walking into a different world, vibrant and full of colors, not just red and black. 

Leaving the lab, she glanced down the hall and she could see, just outside of her studio door, a man in dark blue jeans and a tan woven blazer. Even with his back to her, Jess thought he looked very well put together. He was tall and broad shouldered.  

When he turned at the sound of her approach, Jess could see that he was handsome and he stood straight-backed with a confidence that said he knew it. Thick, dark hair brushed back in waves that looked both styled and effortless all at once. A neatly trimmed mustache and just the right amount of beard gave him an air of maturity. He noticed Jess’s assessment and gave her one of his own, his brown eyes scanning her from head to toe. An approving smile slowly spread over his lips. 

“Hello,” he said, holding her gaze as he extended a hand.

“Hi. I’m Jess. You’re Mr. Castillo?” Jess asked, shaking his hand.

“Please, call me Harry.”

“Alright, Harry, right this way,” she gestured for him to follow and led him through the studio door. “So, you’re in need of some headshots?”

“Yes. As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t keep using the same picture I had taken eight years ago. My assistant called it ‘false advertising.’”

Jess laughed. “Well, I can certainly help you there. Have a seat on that stool and make yourself comfortable.” 

Harry perched on the stool while Jess flicked on the spotlights. She went to the camera she had set up on a tripod for the shoot and peered through the viewfinder, then shifted the angle of one of the lights and checked again.

As she made her adjustments, she casually asked, “So, what kind of work do you do, Harry?” She found small talk was always a good way to help someone who wasn’t used to being photographed feel relaxed. And to be honest, she needed it, too. She could feel the weight of his gaze following her as she worked, and it made her unusually anxious.

“The boring kind,” Harry shrugged and then smiled, watching Jess squint at her camera. “Not like what you do.”

Jess chuckled softly and replied, “I suppose there are boring bits to every job. They say ‘do what you love, and you’ll never work a day’ and yet there’s so much more paperwork than when it was just a hobby.” Jess suddenly looked up, her tone shifting as she directed, “Sit up straighter for me. Shoulders back, there we go. Three, two, one.” The sound of the shutter filled the small studio. 

Harry stayed put, spine straight, sitting tall on the stool. He said, “I envy that you get to make your living being creative.” A few more clicks of the camera. 

“Well, to tell the truth, creativity isn’t how I make my living,” she said, absently, sinking into the task before her. “It’s the boring stuff like this that pays the bills and lets me be creative.”

Jess hit the shutter button just as Harry lifted an eyebrow. “I’m boring you?” he asked.

Realizing her poor choice of words, Jess felt her face heat. “No! That’s not what I meant.” Harry smiled at her flustered excuse. Jess ducked behind the camera and took the photo. She sighed and explained, “Just, portraits, headshots, they’re pretty much all the same. Hard to get creative with them.”

Harry tilted his head, fixing Jess with a look of amused fascination. “Feel free to get creative with me.”

Jess glanced up from the DSLR’s preview screen. His word choice caught her off-guard, but his voice had sounded casual, and his face looked perfectly chaste. Surely, she only imagined a tinge of flirtation behind the innocent suggestion? She looked at him for a long moment, considering him and his offer.

She lifted the camera from the tripod, slung the strap around her neck and approached Harry. Her hand was reaching out before she knew it, and she paused just shy of making contact with the side of his face. “May I?”

He nodded, and Jess brushed her fingers through the soft brown strands at his temple and pushed the curls back from his forehead, twisting the ends to one side. Her fingertips trailed down the side of his face, along his jaw to his chin. She applied a gentle pressure, guiding his face slightly higher and toward the light. 

The purpose of her touch was professional but still carried with it a hint of intimacy between the artist and her muse. 

“There, don’t move.” She whispered, as if the sound of her voice might bowl him over and ruin the shot.

Harry swallowed but otherwise obeyed. 

Leaning back and raising the camera to her face, Jess took the shot, then stepped back, turned the focus ring and took a few more. 

Jess lowered the camera and frowned, deep in thought. “Stand up,” she said. 

Harry stood. 

“Jacket off.” 

He hesitated, eyebrows rising in silent question, but a corner of his mouth pulled up. He removed the outer layer slowly under her artful gaze, allowing her time to change her mind, to stop him if the light caught just right, to direct his movements. She said nothing, only watched him remove the jacket and carefully place it onto the stool. When he turned back, Jess was there, taking his wrist in her hand. She unbuttoned the cuff and started to fold the sleeve over his forearm; first the right, then the left. She did her best to keep her touch from lingering too long as she adjusted the fabric. When she moved to the buttons at his neck next, unhooking the top two and widening the gap to reveal his tanned skin and clavicle, she heard his breath catch and watched the movement in his throat as he swallowed hard. 

Her eyes lifted to meet his, warmth igniting beneath her skin. She didn’t know if it was from the bright lights or from Harry's heated gaze boring into her. Jess was suddenly aware just how close she was leaning into him. She took a step back to admire her work from a distance and get her pulse under control. 

Harry planted his hands on his hips and looked down at the floor. He let out a breath, trying to suppress a shy smile, when he heard the camera’s sharp click.

Caught.

He glanced up and his brows lifted in curious surprise when he saw Jess was kneeling on the floor in front of him.

Jess looked up at him with a guilty grin. “You have an amazing smile. I had to capture it.” Jess bounced back onto her feet and thumbed a few buttons on the back of the camera as she walked toward him. She leaned in, showing the screen to Harry. “What do you think?” She asked, toggling through a few of the shots. 

Harry stepped closer and peered over her shoulder at the screen. Jess could feel his body heat behind her. She paused on one of the last ones, where she had ‘gotten creative.’ 

“Oh,” Jess clucked her tongue, and then said, with mock disappointment, “I don’t know, Harry. This one might be a little too sultry for a business card.”

His eyes were no longer on the preview screen, fixed instead on Jess’ profile. “Keep it. If you think it’s good.”

“I think they’re all good, but I might be a little biased,” Jess shrugged, and turned her face to the side. Her eyes lingered on Harry’s lips, inches from hers. “You’re a great model.” 

She could feel his breath on her face as he huffed out a breathy laugh. “Maybe I should change careers.” Harry teased.

“Maybe you should,” Jess smirked, and turned away. She moved toward the desk and removed the camera from around her neck. “Thank you for indulging me. I’ll get these edited and have them sent over to you soon.”

“You’re done with me?” Harry asked. 

Jess nodded. “I think we got enough to work with, so you are free to go,” she said as she glanced back over her shoulder. 

Harry had started unrolling his sleeves, and she watched, ignoring the sudden urge to stop him as he slipped his jacket back on. He left the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, and Jess couldn’t help the way her eyes kept traveling back to that dip at his collarbone. She found herself regretting the brevity of the appointment and, without thinking, offered, “Unless there’s something else I can do for you?”

“Actually, there is.” Harry ducked his head, slipping his hands into his pockets. When he looked up, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes. “Come get lunch with me?”

“Oh,” Jess blinked. “Right now?”

“If you’re free, yeah, right now.”

“Like, a date?”

Harry smiled, undeterred by her skepticism. “If you want it to be a date. Or it can just be a work lunch with a client who is interested in your creative process.”

Jess laughed, the tension easing between them. “Okay, yes, I’d love to. I have another client in an hour, so it will have to be somewhere close. There are some decent restaurants downstairs, if you’re interested.”

“I am interested,” Harry gestured to the door. “Lead the way.” 

Jess beamed. She grabbed her jacket and a camera from the table near the door - this one smaller and older looking than what she had used for Harry’s shoot. The strap was made from soft, well-worn leather, and she slipped it over her head. “Let’s go.”

Jess led Harry down to the ground floor past the shops and restaurants connected by courtyards between the tall buildings. She chose her favorite spot, a family-owned taqueria, and ordered for them both. Harry insisted on paying, and Jess graciously allowed him to. 

They sat at a window, eating and looking out at the people walking by as they chatted.

“Private equity, huh? That sounds…” Jess trailed off, and then laughed. “To be honest, I don’t even know what that means.”

“I won’t bore you by trying to explain it.” Harry waved a hand, dismissing the topic. “So if portraits aren’t your thing, what do you like to shoot?” Harry asked, wiping his hands on a paper napkin. 

“I like candids. I prefer to find the moment, to capture something real, instead of staging it.” 

A car honked outside and they both turned their attention to the window. A pair of men were struggling to load a large box into the back of a truck on the side of the narrow street. Jess snatched her camera from where it hung at her side. She fiddled with the focus and aperture rings, and then pressed the shutter release. 

Harry chuckled. “Did you capture something there?”

Jess shrugged, settling the camera against her chest. “I won’t know until I develop it. That’s kind of the fun of shooting film instead of digital. There’s always a little bit of mystery involved.”

 “Fascinating.” Harry propped one elbow up on the table, resting his chin on his closed fist.

Jess’ nose scrunched as she laughed. “I don’t know, it sounds pretentious when I say it outloud.”

“Not at all,” he reassured, tilting his head and gazing at her with intense curiosity. The look on his face was warm, and the sunlight through the window gave his brown eyes a golden-honey glow that made her chest feel tight. There was something between them, Jess could feel it and she was sure Harry could feel it, too. Whatever it was, she hoped it could be captured on film. 

“Hold still,” Jess whispered and lifted her camera. The shutter clicked, and she drew back the film advance lever then laughed shyly as she lowered the camera. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted into a smirk, “I don’t mind.” 

Jess glanced at her watch and stood, frowning at the time. “I should probably start getting back to work.”

“So soon?” The disappointment in Harry’s voice matched Jess’ own. She wondered briefly if it was too late to cancel her appointments for the rest of the day, but her own stubborn responsibility simply would not let her.

Jess took a breath and ran her teeth over her bottom lip. “I suppose I still have a little time. Walk me back?”

They walked together through one of the buildings containing an Italian grocery store, a chocolatier’s shop, and a record store. Jess fell back as they crossed a courtyard and discreetly snapped a photograph of a woman tying her shoe. When she jogged back to his side, Harry smirked. 

"Always working, huh?" 

"I like having a camera with me. It reminds me to look for the magic in ordinary  moments. I walk this way almost every day, but there's always something new to see. Different shadows, new people..."

Jess’s voice trailed away, and as he turned to see where he had lost her, his jacket flung over one shoulder, the breeze tousling his curls, she took the photo. She couldn’t help it. It was as if she had found her muse.

“You’re very photogenic, you know.” Jess explained, bounding back to his side. 

“Is that simply a professional observation, or are you hitting on me?” Harry asked, a playful smirk lifting one corner of his mustache.

Jess laughed, and nudged her shoulder into his. “Both.”

They cut through the building that contained Japan Village, a collection of food vendors selling ramen and sushi, art in traditional Japanese styles, and collectibles. Jess led them to a cafe counter, decorated with cherry blossoms and paper lanterns, where they each ordered a matcha latte. 

While they waited for their drinks to be prepared, Harry sighed. “I have to come clean.”

“Oh?” Jess felt her heart sink a little, a tiny voice in her head telling her that, of course, a man like Harry Castillo was too good to be true.

“This photoshoot wasn’t actually for my company’s website.”

“Huh,” Jess ventured, trying to guess what he was getting at. “Okay, so, why the portraits?”

“Don’t laugh,” Harry warned. Jess would have expected a joke to follow, if Harry wasn’t looking at her with real vulnerability in his eyes. He swiped nervously over his lip, smoothing his mustache, his voice lowering conspiratorially, as he admitted, “I hired a matchmaking service and they need a recent photo to show potential matches.”

Jess didn’t laugh; she just smiled, sweetly. “And you were embarrassed to admit that?”

“A bit, yeah. Feels silly, that I’m nearly fifty and needed to hire a matchmaker to help me meet someone.”

“It’s not silly. Although, I do find it hard to believe you would need help finding a date. Didn’t take much to lure me out for one.” 

Harry looked smug. “So this is a date, then?”

“Definitely.” Jess said, smiling.

Harry bit back a smile of his own, then shrugged. “You’re not wrong, though. Finding a date hasn’t really been a problem for me. But finding the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with? That’s where I need help.” Harry tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “What about you?”

The atmosphere between them felt very serious all of the sudden. “Always the bridal photographer, never the bride.” Jess joked, trying to dissolve the tension of such an open and loaded question. What exactly did he want to know? “I hadn’t ever pictured myself settling down, getting married, having kids, but, I don’t know. I suppose, with the right person…”

Harry nodded. “That’s what I’m looking for. The right person.” 

The barista set two to-go cups on the counter at the pickup window beside them. 

“Well, then,” Jess picked hers up and raised it like she was giving a toast. “Here’s hoping these portraits help you find her.”

Harry grinned and lifted his own paper cup, tapping the plastic lids together. “I think they just might.”

Harry accompanied Jess back to the lobby of her studio’s building. Jess pressed the elevator call button and while they waited for the carriage to descend, Harry glanced at his watch. He said, “I hope your next client isn’t upset that you’re a few minutes late.”

“Oh, shoot! Am I? I completely lost track.”

“Just tell them your last appointment was too photogenic.” 

Jess laughed. She turned to him and said, “Thank you for inviting me out. I usually work straight through lunch. This was great, Harry.” 

“My pleasure,” Harry assured her, as the elevator arrived at the lobby and the door slid open. 

Jess stepped in and pressed the button for her floor. “I’ll have those headshots sent over to you next week.”