Newport Dreams: A Breakwater Bay Novella by Shelley Noble

Author:Shelley Noble [Noble, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2014-06-09T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

GEORDIE PULLED OUT of the Gilbert House parking area, barely aware of where she was going. She couldn’t believe she’d let that jerk trick her into walking out. Walking out. She’d just walked out on a job. Even in her most ridiculous attempts at working, she’d never walked out without completing the project or honoring her two-week notice.

But she’d just run out on the most interesting job she’d ever had.

Okay, maybe she didn’t love the documentation part. The actual, realistic details didn’t rock her world like it did Meri’s and Doug’s and even Bruce’s, damn him. But the other stuff, the photos she got after the initial photographs, the play of light, the distortion of detail, the people caught in an unsuspecting moment, their expressions frozen yet alive, the color modulated by filters or natural light.

That was good stuff. Maybe she was a fake. And the worse kind, begrudgingly doing their work so she could have some fun with hers. But she’d gotten some dynamite shots.

Unfortunately, dynamite shots did not constitute a career. Maybe she would be better off giving in and joining the corporate office and doing some menial job to fund her “hobby” of photography.

Of course she wouldn’t be allowed to do some menial job. She’d be forced into corner-office stuff. Her sister Alicia, who was in marketing, had married a podiatrist just to get out of the family business.

Somehow that seemed like a really unacceptable choice.

About as unacceptable as not being able to climb up a ladder. Why, oh why, had she refused to go back to therapy? Even on the breakers, she’d totally forgotten the techniques that she’d used in the past.

And now she was screwed.

Had her parents really bribed someone to take her on? Had they donated the money for her salary? It was just like something her dad would do.

Her mouth opened into a soundless scream, followed by an ear-piercing bellow of hurt and anger. She pulled to the curb and banged on the steering wheel. The car shuddered in response.

When she finally looked up, she realized she was on Bellevue Avenue, a block from Marble House. One of her favorites. She couldn’t imagine it ever being half as neglected as poor Gilbert House.

Gilbert House had fallen on dire times, had been misused and disrespected for decades. And frankly, Geordie didn’t see how they would even get it halfway back to where it might have been a century ago.

Well, to hell with it. It was no longer her concern. Let them do their own documentation. Let Bruce climb up that scaffolding and snap a few shots with his phone. Then he’d be sorry.

The thought totally deflated her. They didn’t need her. They didn’t even want her. Neither Meri nor Carlyn had stood up for her.

Made excuses for me.

“Oh, stop whining.” She huffed out the last—hopefully the last—of her anger and hurt. She pulled into the Marble House parking lot, took a camera out of her bag, put the rest of her equipment in the trunk, and struck off across the street to do her own kind of pictures.

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