Into the Flood by Milla Holt

Author:Milla Holt [Holt, Milla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Reinbok Limited
Published: 2022-07-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

SONIA KICKED OFF HER pumps and sunk her grateful toes into the emerald green grass of Berghaven Memorial Park. The spring weather, sun-drenched but not too hot, was perfect for a day of photo shoots. Hans, a talented young photographer, stood nearby, adjusting his tripod. They’d spent the last few hours taking promotional photos of the play’s cast members and other key people in the Arts Center. And now it was Axel’s turn.

Hans pointed across the field. “There he comes. Bang on time.”

Axel walked toward them, wearing a dark blazer, tan pants, and a white shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck. With his dark hair slicked back, he looked the same as in the dated, unflattering head shots he used on his online platforms. The very pictures Sonia wanted to replace.

Tugging at his shirt collar with a finger, he smiled as he approached them. “I’m ready for my close-up.”

“Let’s get started,” Hans said.

Sonia watched as Hans directed Axel to stand half turned to the camera. Axel stood ramrod straight, chin pointing toward the blue sky.

Hans peered through his camera. “Do you think you could relax a bit?”

Axel rolled his shoulders and positioned himself like a tin soldier, his arms fixed by his side.

Hans clicked a few pictures. “How about a smile?”

Axel bared his teeth, looking more like he was enduring a medical procedure than posing for a portrait.

Sonia walked to where Hans stood as he snapped several more pictures. Axel couldn’t look stiffer if he’d dipped himself in starch. At this rate, they would do better to stick with his old portraits.

“Hang on a minute, Hans,” she said. “Axel, you need to relax. How about a joke?”

He glanced at her. “What, you want me to tell you one?”

“I thought I’d tell you one, but go ahead.”

“Okay,” he said. “Um… what do you call a can opener that doesn’t work?”

“What?”

“A can’t opener.”

Sonia groaned. “That’s what I call a dad joke.”

Axel grinned. “Well, I am a dad. Can you do any better?”

“As a matter of fact, I can. Why can’t you trust an atom?”

He screwed up his face. “I give up. Why?”

“Because they make up everything.”

He laughed, not a polite social chuckle, but a deep belly laugh that made her feel ridiculously pleased that he found her joke funny. His shoulders relaxed and color rushed to his face.

“These are looking a lot better,” Hans said from behind his camera. “Tell him more jokes.”

Sonia smiled. “How about a tongue twister? Say this. Which rich witch switched the Swiss wristwatches?”

“Which witch swished the rich witch watches?”

“Nope. Try again.”

“Which rich witch switched the Swiss rich watches.”

She doubled over with laughter while he made another stab at the tongue twister.

He threw up his hands. “It’s impossible.”

Wiping the corners of her eyes, Sonia stepped toward Hans. “Let’s have a look at what you’ve got.”

Hans swiped through several images on his camera. They were acceptable, but not quite what Sonia wanted. There was something she knew was inside him—a deep vibrant charisma—which wasn’t transferring into the images.

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