Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
Chapter Twenty-Two
Oh my God,now I remember the other reason I don’t drink. I can’t handle it. Booze is like poison to my bloodstream. Whether it’s two drinks or two dozen, I suffer the same godawful monster hangover.
My skull is throbbing so hard I can feel it pulsing in my eyeballs. I thank my lucky stars that I purged myself of the alcohol last night, or I’d be in even worse shape than I am now.
Rolling out of bed as slowly as possible, I shuffle to the bathroom and fill a glass with water, knock it back, then wash my clammy face with cold water. It helps a little, but not as much as a couple of Tylenols will.
Returning to the bedroom with a second glass of water, I locate my duffel and search for the little bottle of painkillers I threw in there just in case I made some bad decisions. What can I say? I know myself that well.
After swallowing the little white pills, I lie back on the bed and try to think of a proactive plan of action. I can’t spend the rest of my time here locked in my room, afraid I might run into El.
I figure breakfast would be a good first move, so I pick up the phone on the bedside table and dial room service. The girl who answers has a high-pitched, sugary-sweet voice. I imagine she thinks she sounds appealing, but I’ve always preferred a huskier tone.
When I hang up, all I can think about is El. I want so desperately to hear her voice again. I’ve never come across another woman with one like hers. Every woman I’ve been with since her has been seriously lacking. But I expected nothing less.
From the first time I was with El, I knew that no other would measure up.
She was everything to me then, and she still is now. For me, nothing has changed.
I need to see her while I’m in town. I have to lay my eyes on her, even if it’s just for a minute. I need to see how she is, see if she’s changed at all.
Jesus, I’ve missed her. And now, knowing she’s within my reach again, I’m filled with a sense of purpose I haven’t felt in the longest time.
I roll off the bed, but this time, I land with a bounce in my step. I throw on a T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts then sling my satchel over my shoulder and head out the door, deciding to get breakfast on the go.
I strum my fingers on my thigh as I wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor. I’m out the doors as soon as they slide open and making my way toward the exit.
I never spent much time in the city when I lived out here, so it’s all new to me, and I’m eager to explore. As I’m walking down the street, I come across an old building with a French Provincial feel to it. I pull my camera out of my satchel and focus my lens on the edge of the building where it butts up against a sleek modern atrocity.
The contrast between the new and the old captures me completely. I wonder if I would have fully appreciated the beauty of the old building had it not been right next to the monstrosity that is modern architecture.
Just as I’m about to lower my lens, I catch a glimpse of an older woman on her tiny terrace, watering a couple of potted plants. One has outgrown its pot and is now entwined with the wrought-iron railing.
I smile to myself and take the shot before she notices me. Her aged hand is wrapped around the handle of the watering can that she’s probably been using since she moved into that apartment.
I’m not sure how much time has passed since I left the hotel. I get so absorbed in my pursuit of these little moments of beauty that I forget to keep track. My cell ringing in my pocket snaps me out of it. Letting my camera hang around my neck, I reach for my phone.
“Hey, Bee, what’s up?” I ask.
“Are you kidding me? You better not have run off, Huxley!”she yells into the line.
I frown. “What? No, why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m standing in your suite, and you’re not. What the hell? Where are you?”
Glancing around my surroundings, I try to figure out where I am. “I’m in a park, not exactly sure where. I went for a walk.”
“Well, you better get your ass back here. It’s already five, Hux. You need to get showered and ready. I’ve hung your suit in your room. Please tell me you brought decent footwear.” She almost groans that last part.
I spot a taxi rank on the street and start for it. “Okay, I’m getting in a cab now. I’ll be back soon. Stop stressing, I’m a dude. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes—if that. See you soon,” I say then hang up.
She’s going to pitch a fit when she realizes I only brought a couple of pairs of Chucks. But if I have to wear a damn suit, I’m doing it my way.
Ten minutes later, the taxi pulls up in front of the hotel. “There’s some fancy exhibition here tonight. You going, kid?” the old man driving asks me.
I grin at him in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, kinda.” I hand him some cash then slide out.
Getting out and about with my camera and the fresh air has eased the tension in my body, but opening the door to my suite and being greeted by a pissed off Bee in the middle of the sitting room has it rising again.
“You hung up on me!” she bites out.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, and? It’s not the first time, and we both know it probably won’t be the last.”
She releases a deep sigh then rolls her neck until it cracks. I hate it when she does that. It’s disgusting. “Will you just go get ready, please?” She glances at her watch. “I should already be down there. Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes, Hux. Twenty.” She eyeballs me as she reiterates the time.
“I can find my way to the gallery myself, you know. I know you like to treat me like a child, but I’m not. I’ll see you down there soon. Go socialize or whatever it is you need to do before I get there.” I start moving down the hall toward my room then pause. “Oh, and you look amazing, Bee.” I shoot her a wink over my shoulder and catch her smile just before I walk out of view.
That woman stresses too much. She’s going to go gray before her time.
When I get out of the shower, I’m pleased to see that the suit Bee bought for me is a simple, fitted, navy two-piece with a white dress shirt to go with it. She also bought a tie, but that shit ain’t happening. I’d feel like I was being strangled all night. No thanks.
I roll the sleeves of the jacket and white shirt up my forearms as far as they can comfortably go and opt to leave the jacket open, then I slide on my black Converse and tie the laces before tucking the bows inside. I know Bee isn’t going to be impressed with how I’ve dressed it down, but I’m not now, nor will I ever be, a suit-wearing man.
I’m pretty sure she won’t like the scruff on my face either, but I really don’t care. She’s making me do this damn thing, so I’m doing it my way.
Ducking back into the bathroom, I quickly run some gel through my hair and decide I look good enough.
Five minutes later, I’m standing outside the gallery, staring at the sign that displays what all this fuss is about.
This particular show, Moments of Beauty, is by far my most popular and most requested. The centerpiece changes each time we open, but they’re all from the same series of images.
It still feels weird when people call me Hadley, but I’ve been going by my middle name since branching out on my own.
I take a deep breath and start for the glass doors that lead to what’s sure to be another evening of fending off cougars.
As I reach for the handle, a guy grabs my arm. “Hey, man, you can’t just walk in there. You have to be on the list. This is a private event.”
I look down at the guy’s hand, still on my arm, then back to his face, and raise a brow.
He drops my arm and shrugs. “You can’t go in, dude. It’s VIP or some shit.”
Chuckling, I say, “I know. Trust me, I’m on the list.”
The guy scoffs. “Yeah, sure you are.”
Just as I’m about to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean, Bee comes bursting through the glass doors behind me. “There you are! You said twenty minutes. It’s been half an hour!”
The guy’s face pales. “Uh …”
Bee eyes him then me. “First, why are you detaining the main attraction of this event?” she asks the guy.
His eyes bulge. “You’re the photographer, dude?”
I nod. “That’d be me.”
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.
Bee turns her blazing eyes back on me. “What have you done to that suit?”
I smile. “Nothing. It’s a nice suit. Thanks.” I wink and hold my crooked arm out for her to take, and she does, even if she is pissed with me.
“You couldn’t have at least shaved?” she mumbles as we make our way through the doors and into the gallery.
Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I tell her, “I couldn’t show you up. Dressed like that, you’re sure to have all eyes on you this evening.”
A slight blush creeps over her cheeks. “Thank you, but you’re the focus of tonight, Hux, not me.”
“Hadley could be a chick’s name, right? How about you pretend to be Hadley tonight? I think that would be a fantastic plan.”
Bee snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” She pauses when someone on the other side of the room catches her eye. “Give me a minute, will you? There are people I need to meet. Now, play nice while I’m gone.”
I watch Bee disappear into the crowd of people, and I feel so out of place.
