The Street Photographer

Chapter 6

Two days later...

Point. Focus. Click.

I stared at myself in the hallway mirror, mentally walking though the next few hours. This was my first public outing with Kent, and every nerve was sparking. We'd talked everything through, and while there was no reason to fear, I still did.

He'd hired his stunt double to pose as him on the far side of town. A couple of fans had been paid/bribed to tip off the paparazzi with a 'sighting' of the stunt double. Once that was spread around, most of the paparazzi would flock to the other side of town and we could meet up for coffee at my favorite outdoor café.

I glanced at my watch and grabbed my jacket off the hook. At his suggestion, Kent would meet me on the stairs so my neighbors wouldn't see him at my door. We'd get to that later. Locking my door behind me, I shrugged into my jacket and perched my sunglasses on top of my head. The shades were a measure against the lovely morning sun more than any potential photos.

Jogging down the first flight of stairs, I stuck my phone in my back pocket and hummed to override the nerves. This would be fine. It was fine. We'd be fine. Nothing to freak out about.

"Morning, beautiful."

I squeaked and jumped at the same time, gripping the handrailing to prevent falling over. Kent casually leaned against the wall on the landing, looking up at me like the suave professional that he was. Rather than his usual baseball hat, he wore a sort of wide-brimmed fedora-type thing. He'd dressed down: dark blue jeans, white V-neck shirt, tan leather jacket, and lighter tinted sunglasses hooked on the V of his shirt. He was ready for a casual coffee date.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," I wheezed, holding a hand to my chest as my heartrate slowed again.

"And here I was hoping that was a squeak of excitement," he drawled, pushing off the wall to meet me at the bottom stair.

"It would have been," I muttered, "if I'd been paying more attention."

He stood on the landing as I stopped on the last stair. Even with me being a step above him, I was only a couple inches taller than him. He wrapped his arms around my waist and held tight.

"Are you second-guessing your readiness to go out today? We can still go back to your apartment if you're not ready." He gave me his big puppy eyes.

"I'm ready," I promised, "but that doesn't mean I'm not scared."

He nodded in acknowledgment of my fear. "I know. It'll be okay. I promise."

I sighed and nodded slowly. "Okay."

He let me go and offered his arm like a true gentleman. "Shall we go get coffee?"

I hooked my arm through his and held onto his upper arm. "Yes. I am in desperate need of coffee."

We descended the last staircase and awkwardly squeezed out the front door side by side. Kent had refused to let me go and tried to exit at the same time instead of going sideways. So, we were a laughing mess when we almost tumbled onto the sidewalk. In almost perfect unison, we slid our sunglasses into place and took off down the street.

Kent kept his head slightly ducked and turned away from the street. While this meant he was looking at me more, I knew that he was going to a lot of extra effort to make me feel comfortable. I knew the risk of being seen and recognized was low, but it was still something extra that I had added onto our relationship. It would eventually become exhausting. Besides, the media would find us sooner or later. When they did, we'd be doing more damage control than anything else. That would also impact our relationship.