Hearing someone behind her requesting to sign the book, Elise stepped aside. “Sure.” Her stomach flipped like a cliché when she saw it was Jasper Franklin, the photographer she’d requested for her Vogue cover story. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too.”
She resisted a smile at what felt like flirtatious scolding. She reached to hug him, and he kissed her jawline near her ear. He smelled like cologne and mint. Jasper was the type of man who anyone who could see would say was handsome. Intrigued first by his talent and further by his Google summary, Elise had formed an attraction to the thirty-something Black photographer even before they met.
Credited for resurrecting coffee-table books as an art form, Jasper’s photographs won awards and were commissioned for ads and displayed on billboards and on the sides of buildings. His prints depicting college life, first love, growing pains, Black masculinity, and substance abuse sold for upward of five figures apiece.
Elise had learned of him a year ago, but they had only officially met that March in New York, in the rooftop restaurant of her parents’ apartment building. He was out celebrating his current show’s sold-out success; Elise was escaping the drama of her viral post. They had shared a bottle of wine and even took a snowy 4:00 am stroll. Elise would have let him kiss her had he not offended her.
She rushed her words, remembering what was weird about the moment. “Did Vogue send you?”
“I’m here for personal reasons.”
Elise looked doubtful. “None of which have to do with me?”
“You were a side benefit.” He grinned in a mischievous way that said he wouldn’t elaborate.
“How’s that?”
“Six degrees of separation.”
She smirked. “Six exactly?”
“Don’t you like the mystery?”
She shook her head. “I do not.”
“I’m here for my grandfather. He wouldn’t have missed this, but he died two years ago.”
“Oh, he was invited?”
“Guess Kitty didn’t know he died.”
“Who’s your grandfather?”
“He was a photographer for the Los Angeles Times,” Jasper said.
“So he’s why you started shooting.”
He nodded. “He gave me my first camera. Taught me everything he knew.”
“Was he Black?”
Jasper chuckled as if he was used to the question. “Yes. A trailblazer.”
“How did he get started in photography?”
“He had a mentor.”
“Who?”
Jasper winked. “Guess you’ll have to read my next book.”
“Ah! Good for you; you figured it out.” The night they met, he had been at a creative standstill.
“It all fell in my lap.”
“I bet your family is proud.”
His fingers went to his chin. “They’re supportive but worried about its reception.”
“Why? Sounds uplifting.”
“Quite a bit of our family business is involved. My grandfather has an extraordinary tale.”
“I bet. Send me a copy.”
“How’s a preview?” he said. “We can have dinner at my place when you get in Thursday.”
“I don’t get in till late.”
“You should still come by.” His eyes settled on her, making her think things she shouldn’t be thinking at a memorial. She pulled open the front door, needing some air.
He stayed on her heels. “This is Kitty’s house?”
They sat on a bench just inside the first entrance to the jungle.
“It is,” Elise said.
He gestured around them. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, many memories.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks … though I probably shouldn’t have been so candid.”
“It was honest.”
Elise changed the subject. “So, who else did your grandfather photograph? I’m sure he had more interesting subjects and events to cover than Kitty.”
Jasper raised a brow. “There was no one more interesting to him than Kitty. He kept every photo he ever took of her.”
“Are you trying to tell me your grandfather and Kitty had an affair?”
“No, they didn’t even know each other then.”
“I’m confused.”
“The times. Him being Black and her being White—unless she introduced herself, he wouldn’t have.”
“But I thought you said Kitty invited him here?”
“They met years later.”
Elise thought about the RSVP list. “What’s his name?” Hearing more guests flooding into the yard, she peered through the trees, halfway wondering if Aaron had arrived yet. “Are you bidding tonight?”
“Yes, one of my grandfather’s photographs is being auctioned.”
“Which one?”
“Kitty’s at a pool, looking to the side at something off camera.”
Elise knew the one. It had been taken at Kitty and Nathan’s old house in the Hollywood Hills. “I hope you’ll buy more than just one photograph. The night is for charity.”
“I told you, I’m here for personal reasons. That photograph completes my grandfather’s collection.”
“Which you need for your book.”
“Yes.”
“Well, being that my sisters and I are the heirs of her estate, you’ll have to get permission before publishing any photographs of her.”
“Not exactly true. But I do owe you the courtesy of a first look, which is why I’d like to make you dinner on Thursday.”
“I deserve more than a courtesy,” Elise said. “And that photo of Kitty—how did your grandfather take it? It was a private moment at her home.”
“I told you he was the original paparazzo.”
“He stalked her?”
“You’re going to make me talk about this right now, aren’t you?”
“No, that’s your style.” He pretended to look hurt by her reference to the sour way they’d parted seven months ago. Her need to remind him of it was evidence that she had missed him, though she hardly knew him.
“I’m sorry about all that,” he said. “I was rudely opinionated for having just met you.”
“And wrong. People certainly think I’m Black now.”
Jasper had challenged her post, insinuating she knew nothing about the Black experience. “I didn’t say people didn’t think you were Black, I said no one cares what color you are. You’re above race.”
“You’re still wrong, is what I’m saying.” What made her angriest was that she never got to start fresh, to filter the story. She liked Jasper but hated how his assumptions put her in a position to prove that she wasn’t what people said she was. It was a handicap.
“I’ll take that. I apologize.”
He’d apologized that night, too, so she wasn’t convinced he meant it. She got angry remembering. You’ve been treated like a princess your whole life; when have you ever really experienced racism?
“Still think people would trade their problems for mine?”
Jasper’s head cocked to one side. “Hell nah. Not after this Kitty news.”
“Okay. I’ll accept your apology then.”
Guests started migrating back toward the house. She stood, receiving the signal. “You came into town just for this?”
“My flight leaves at eight in the morning.”
“Stay for our Halloween party,” Elise suggested.
He held Kitty’s door open for her. Giovanni was standing in the hallway, directing guests back into the living room. She waited for Elise and Jasper to approach. “Mom’s ready.”
Elise nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
Giovanni waited for an introduction, whirling the extra cherries in her old-fashioned around with the stirrer.
“Jasper Franklin, my Vogue photog. Jasper, this is my middle sister, Giovanni.”
They cringed at the sound of a bell.
“Mommie dearest calls,” Elise joked before touching her cheek to Jasper’s. “See you later.” She and Giovanni walked off together into the front room.
“You invited a guest.” Giovanni called her a hypocrite for complaining about their mother’s additions.
“I didn’t.”
“Small world.”
“Itty-bitty.”
“Need me to occupy Aaron?”
“Is he here?” Elise waved her sister off. “What? Gio, Jasper didn’t come here for me.”
They slipped into place for photos before their father commanded the attention of the room to outline the auction process.
* * *
Elise hadn’t told a soul about the night she and Jasper met but thought of it every day since. The time with him had changed her. It was a welcome, intense attraction, one that rendered her mute for a few moments every time they locked eyes.