not a favorite. Just something.” He thought about it for a moment before he said, “Tell me about your job. Did you always want to work for your father?”
“No,” she said with a small laugh. “I majored in English when I was in college. But I practically grew up in that restaurant. I worked there part time as a waitress when I was in high school, and then during my breaks from college, I would come back and train other waitresses, and then that just naturally progressed into being the manager…and so here I am,” she said with a shrug, still absently twirling a strand of her hair.
“So how is that related to your English degree?”
“It’s not.”
He nodded slowly. “Do you think you’ll ever do anything with it?”
She took a deep breath before exhaling in a rush. “I don’t know. I guess I could go back to school and get a teaching degree, teach some courses in language arts.”
“Is that what you wanted to do?”
“No. I wanted to be a writer.”
Chase was quiet for a moment. “So why not do that instead?”
She shrugged. “Because it’s unrealistic. Do you know how hard it is to get an agent, or a publishing house that’s willing to take on your project?”
“I’m sure there would be a lot of rejection involved, but you only need one person to say yes, right?”
Andie scrunched her nose, and he smiled.
“What about self-publishing?” he asked.
She shook her head. “You still have to get a fan base for your stuff. Figure out how to market yourself. Not to mention, I’d have to write an entire novel first. And a good one, at that. It’s just not as simple as you’re making it sound.”
Chase pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at her. He knew he had to be careful here.
“Have you tried?” he finally said.
“Tried what?”
“Writing a novel.”
She pulled her brow together as she turned to look out the passenger window again. “No.”
Barely a second passed before she cleared her throat and added, “What about you? Colin said you freelance as a photographer.”
He smiled resignedly, seeing right through her attempt at changing the subject, but he decided to follow her lead. He could sense that pursuing his line of questioning would only cause her to withdraw, and he didn’t want any of that today.
“Yeah, I got into it right after I graduated. I’ve been at it for about four years now.”
She tilted her head at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
She smiled softly. “I just don’t want to seem like I’m being intrusive.”
“If I think you’re being intrusive, I won’t answer,” he laughed.
“Okay, well,” she shifted in her seat to face him, “if you love photography, wouldn’t it be more…I don’t know…stable, if you worked for some kind of studio? Like, doing wedding photos or portraits or something?”
“Nah,” Chase said with a dismissive shake of his head. “I can’t stand that formal photography shit. It’s so contrived.” He glanced in the side mirror as he switched lanes. “In a formal shot, people show you what they want you to see, or what they think you want to see. But in a candid?” He smiled. “You’d be surprised how much a person’s expressions or mannerisms reveal about her when she’s not paying attention.”
Chase could feel her eyes on him, and it was a moment before she spoke again.
“Where did you go to school?”
“Cornell.”
“Really?” she asked, bemused. “I didn’t know they had a photography program.”
“I went to school for veterinary science.”
She fell silent and he smiled, knowing he had shocked her with that little disclosure. He glanced over to see the most endearing combination of surprise and confusion on her face.
“How did you get into photography then?”
“I’ve always been into photography. It’s all I ever wanted to do.”
“Then why did you go to school for something else?”
Chase inhaled deeply, licking his lips, and Andie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too many questions.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. It was just that he hadn’t spoken about any of this in so long. But he realized then that he actually wanted to talk about it. More specifically, he wanted to talk about it with her.
“I went to school for veterinary science because my dad would have pretty much disowned me if I went for photography.”
“He didn’t approve?” she asked, and Chase laughed.
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“What did he want you to do?”
“He wanted me to be a doctor, like him. Oh wait, excuse me, a surgeon,” he corrected with