mamma mia | jeremy jordan

22. two months later

Ana rapped her fist against the chipped paint of apartment number 23, dressed in her finest dress and heels. She clutched her purse over her right shoulder and her resume in her left hand. In her starry eyes was nervous caution.

The apartment building Laura had sent Ana to was more than slightly sketchy: most were in New York City. Most, however, didn't have random holes in the walls, huge paint chips that revealed what happened five layers down, and nosy tenants peeking out of their doors at the interruption of their daily routine.

Ana cleared her throat as the door began to open and her knuckles went white with intensity. A bright smiled woman appeared in the doorway of the apartment, glasses on the brim of her freckled nose and natural blush highlighting her sunken cheekbones.

She greeted Ana, who was silently shocked, "Please come in, Ms. Devit. Please, come in."

Ana moved out of the hallway, which smelled of sweat and oil, and into a flowery accented parlor. The sweet smell of orchids and tea swept over Ana's face with the breeze of the open window probably in the living room.

Ana turned to followed the woman as she moved through the apartment. "I'm assuming you're slightly shocked, but you can rest your pepper spray."

Ana laughed, "I'm sorry for assuming you were a man, Mrs. Fray."

"It's alright, Ms. Devit. Most people read the name Toni and assume I'm some old man. And, based on where I live, they also think I'm going to be assaulting them."

They shared a laugh, and the tenseness of Ana's shoulder relaxed. She slyly zipped up her purse.

Toni Fray motioned for Ana to sit on the bright yellow couch, decorated with mitch-match pillows and throw blankets. She poured Ana tea and pushed the blue chinaware across the coffee table.

"Now, Ana, let me see that resume of yours." Mrs. Fray reached across from where she was sitting, in a lilac patterned  armchair.

Ana crossed her legs and folded her hands neatly, watching Mrs. Fray read through Ana's folder. Inside, along with the resume, was multiple photos Ana had taken, both edited and unedited.

Mrs. Fray hummed in response to each page, her face blank but her eyes reading a pleased dilation. After she finished, she set it in her lap and met Ana's eyes.

"You are very much qualified for this, Ana." She quirked a brow, "In fact, too qualified. Why are you settling for such a small feat? For goodness's sake, you worked with the top photography business in the city. And you want to work for mine?"

Ana smiled shyly, "Well, Mrs. Fray, I have realized that sometimes working with the best in the business is not the most important part of one's job. For me, photography in general is what I love to do, and whether I'm taking headshots for TV actresses, or wedding photos for the newlyweds, I'm still going to enjoy myself."

Mrs. Fray nodded along with Ana's soliloquy. She grinned as Ana finished and Mrs. Fray stood. Ana took one last swig of her green tea and stood, too.

"Come with me."

Ana followed the woman as she shuffled down a hallway, her flats hitting the creaky floorboards lightly. She turned into the room at the end, which was painted bright blue and decorated with white clouds, which were designed to look extremely fluffy.

Ana glanced around the room, which had different ring lights and tripods set up in it. Mrs. Fray opened one of the closet doors and reached up to grab a large box. She set it down on the ground and popped off the lid.

"This was the first camera I took my first photo on, way back in 1963. I don't use it anymore, but I keep it with me just in case someone like you comes along."

Ana furrowed her eyebrows, though she was smiling lightly. "Why?"

"Because, Ana, I see so much of myself in you. So, I want you to use this for your first project with me." Mrs. Fray spoke, lifting the camera from its case. Ana grinned widely as she was handed the machine. "Take a photo of me."

Mrs. Fray situated herself on the stool situated in front of the ringlights, though she didn't turn them on. "May I ask why, Mrs. Fray-"

"Call me Toni, dear." She brushed her white hair behind her ears, "And, to answer your question, it's because I've hired you now. And because of that, we're going to be extending our business, and going on the web. I don't have a logo, so you're going to help me make one with this photo."

Ana carefully opened the blinds, so that they shined the freckled face of her new boss. "Both of your sides are great, but tell me which one you prefer."

"My left- it's where my dimple is."

—

Ana opened her own apartment door with a wide grin, the tops of her cheeks pink with sunshine and her eyes alight with fresh beginnings. She slipped out of her shoes and clothes, leaving them in a pool on the floor, as she redressed herself in jean shorts and a cropped blouse.

She'd chopped her lengthy hair a week ago, nearly two months after the Jeremy Jordan debacle. In that time, Laura had also been granted a new job: back on Broadway.

Ana's room had been remodeled: new furniture, new decorations. It looked very similar to her bosses apartment, mitch-matched and bright. She had kept one of her old pieces of furniture: the dresser, which she painted midnight blue faded into sunrise colors near the top.

The bottom drawer had a new purpose, however: inside it's wooden curves were the clothes of Ben Fankhauser, who was on his way over to Ana's apartment.