I shrug. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I think you'd make a good writer."
Stella narrows her eyes at me. "And how would you know that? You've never read anything I've written, have you?"
Right. She doesn't know I read her journal. She's not supposed to know.
"But I have," I tell her.
She gives me a confused look.
"You've written countless letters and reports for me in the past two years," I add.
She lets out a breath of relief, then snorts. "Those don't count. Those don't have a drop of creativity at all."
"But I can still tell you're good with words."
Her lips curve into a slight smile. "Thank you."
Then she falls silent again, as if trying to make up for the conversation she just allowed herself to have with me. We continue down the garden paths, stopping intermittently for pictures. When we reach the fountain, Stella tries to get a picture of herself with it but struggles.
"Let me," I offer.
I've been wanting to take her pictures, actually. I've been waiting for her to ask but she hasn't.
She shakes her head. "No. That's... It's enough that you're accompanying me. I don't want to make you into my photographer."
Is that all?
"First of all, taking one picture doesn't make a person a photographer," I tell her. "Second, I'm not accompanying you. I'm taking a tour of the city with you, which I'm glad of, because even though I've been to Zurich a few times before, I've never really had a chance to see the city."
Her eyes grow wide. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm not. So you see, you're the one who actually did me a favor."
Stella doesn't answer. I offer her my hand.
"Now hand me that camera."
She hesitates but places the camera on my palm.
"Do you know how to use it?" she asks.
Instead of being insulted by her lack of confidence in me, I chuckle. "I think I can manage."
I step back and look through the lens. I find myself zooming in on her face. Some strands of her hair have come loose from her braid now, but she still looks beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that my finger presses the shutter to snap a quick picture.
"That it?" Stella asks.
"One more," I answer.
I zoom out so I can see her whole outfit - a cream-colored turtleneck and a loose-fitting pair of olive green pants. Shiny copper canvas shoes conceal her feet. It reminds me of what she was wearing when I saw her that late Friday night, except this is a chicer version.
I approve.
I zoom in so I only get the upper half of her body and the fountain.
"Ready?"
"Yes," she answers.
"Is that the best pose you've got?" I tease her.
She's just standing in front of the fountain, clutching her cap and her sunglasses.
She rolls her eyes. "Just take the picture."
I do. Afterwards, I take a look at it. It looks good.
"Well?" Stella asks.
"Let's take one more to be sure," I say.
I get ready to take another picture, but before I can, I feel a drop of water on my hand. As I look at it, another falls beside it. I lift my head and realize the dark clouds have started to melt.
I hide the camera under my sweater and quickly look around for shelter, but all I see are bushes. Where was the greenhouse again? Or that gazebo?
Then I feel a tug on my arm. I turn my head and see Stella with her umbrella and a look of concern on her face.
"If you don't mind, we can share."
Chapter Five
Stella
I shouldn't have offered to share my umbrella with Ethan.
It was a bad idea, a recipe for disaster. My umbrella is designed for one person, not two, and Ethan is a big guy, so right now my shoulder is getting wet from the rain, which means it's getting cold, though I'm trying hard not to draw Ethan's attention to it. Also, Ethan's taller than I am, more so since I'm not wearing heels, so he's the one holding the umbrella. In one way, that's good: I think my arm would fall off if I was the one carrying it. The problem is that every time the breeze blows, drops of rain land on my cheeks. Thank goodness the rain isn't that hard - a gentle shower rather than a downpour - or I'd be completely soaked from head to foot by now. But that's not why I think I made a bad decision.
Ethan wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer to him. His hand rests