The Billionaire's Matchmaker(11)

Gabby brought her camera up and sighted the pillars. Her face took on a serious cast, her mouth an all-business line. He’d always loved this side of her. She became determined and somber when it came to her art, her concentration only on her creation. He respected that about her. He always had loved to watch her work.

Charlie strained at the leash, barking and nipping at her leg. She waved a hand at him. “Charlie, quit it, I want to get this shot.”

The terrier jerked left suddenly, yanking the leash out of T.J.’s hand. Charlie scrambled down the trail, disappearing around a curve, the crystal studded leash trailing like a kite. T.J. took after the dog, while behind him Gabby cursed and got to her feet, grabbing her camera case. The two of them hurried down the path until they spied the brown and white terrier. They called out to him, but instead of coming back, Charlie turned back, let out a little bark, then ran off again, picking up speed this time. “What’s with this dog? It’s like he wants us to go somewhere special.”


“Yeah, the road that leads to Drive-Us-Crazy.”

T.J. laughed. “No, look at his path. No diverging to hunt a squirrel or peek under a shrub, straight on to his destination.”

She groaned. “I don’t have time for this. I have a schedule to keep and a whole lot of pictures left to take. The gallery wants unique representations of Americana, not the brown and white rear end of a—”

Charlie’s paws were propped against the side of a giant statue of a bison. A long white strip of flat, pristine, snowy lawn ran behind the statue, flanked by dark green pines lining the sides. The sun was starting to set, casting the sky in rich hues of blue, offset with puffy white clouds. A unique representation of Americana. Charlie was either one smart dog or one lucky puppy.

“This is perfect,” Gabby said.

“I think it just got better,” T.J. whispered. He pointed toward the tree line.

A real bison stood to the edge of the trees, watching them, wary, as still as his bronze counterpart. Gabby moved slow and easy, setting up her camera, framing the shot of the fake and real animal. Just before she pressed the button, Charlie scrambled up onto the bison statue, and laid down between the bronze animal’s massive forelegs. Gabby clicked the picture, then tried to call Charlie down from the statue, but the dog stayed, resolute.

“Seems he’s a bit of a ham,” T.J. whispered to her. He was close behind her, watching her work, mesmerized and intoxicated. The moment seemed magical, with Gabby composing her shot, Charlie holding his pose, and the air crisp and fresh with possibilities.

“One more shot of him and then hopefully he gets down. I want to get this before,” she pressed the camera button again, “the real bison leaves.”

As if he’d heard her, the massive animal shifted his weight, then headed back into the woods. Gone. Gabby cursed.

Charlie jumped down from the statue and trotted over to Gabby’s feet. He plopped his little butt down and looked up at her, happy with himself. T.J. bit back a grin.

“You are trouble,” she said. “Now stay and let me see if that bison comes back.”

Charlie stayed, the leash firmly in T.J.’s grip this time. Gabby and T.J. waited, her camera at the ready, but the bison never returned. The sun sank behind the trees and the shot was lost. Gabby finally admitted defeat and packed up her stuff. “That darn dog keeps getting in the way. If I was at home, I’d have my photo editing software and I could airbrush him out of the shot, but all I have is my laptop with me, and it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles.”

T.J. stopped in front of her and placed a hand on her arm. “You have great instincts. I was watching you work, totally in awe.”

She scoffed. “I took a few photos. It’s no big deal.”

“No, you created magic. I saw what was on the camera’s screen and it was…amazing.” She glanced away, and shifted her weight.

“You make me sound like a cross between Picasso and Ansel Adams.”

He kept his touch on her arm, wanting to hold her and shake her at the same time until she saw what he saw. “Why don’t you believe in you like I believe in you?”

She exhaled. Charlie pulled at the leash to nose around a shrub, his tail wagging at whatever he’d discovered in the snowy space beneath the greenery. “In my line of work, it’s easier to believe the negative stuff. I’m working through it, though. Or trying to.”

He could see the doubt and fear in her eyes, those twin demons to so many artists. She’d always been so reluctant to trust in her gift, and most of all, to trust another person. “Don’t be so afraid to take a risk, Gabby.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “I’m not afraid.”

“Maybe not afraid of breaking a couple property laws or taking on a challenging art piece. I’m talking about life. Love.” He shook his head and closed the distance between them. “I know all about being afraid to take a risk.”

“You? What risk did you ever take? Everything you’ve ever done has worked out, T.J. You had straight A’s, went to college—”

“Tried to date you.”

She glanced away. “T.J. that was a long time ago. I was young. Immature. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“What about now? Do you know what you want now?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “I just want to finish this trip and get my career on the right track.”