Red Hot Rebel - Olivia Hayle Page 0,94

Penny asks. “These are frames. What… Oh.”

My hand stills when I see who stares back.

It’s me.

A framed, black-and-white portrait of me, one I hadn’t seen before. I’m dancing on the square in St. Barts, the red dress dark now, but billowing around my legs as I spin. My hair is a curtain around me, but the smile on my face is visible.

It’s grainy, not so much as to throw off the image, but enough to give it character.

“Ivy…,” my sister whispers. “This is gorgeous.”

I swallow. “Help me get the packaging off the rest of them.”

Four framed photographs in total, all black and white and large. And all of me.

Penny runs her hand over an etched plaque at the bottom of one. “They’re named,” she murmurs. “Ivy, they all have names!”

I drop to my knees in the hallway to see that she’s right. The portrait of me dancing in St. Barts is called Joy.

The one of me in Rome, putting on dark lipstick with the eternal city as a backdrop, the Tiber flowing behind me, is called Strength. And I suppose the challenging look in my eyes as I stare directly into the camera is exactly that. Strong.

The third has me in Paris. Standing in my blazer and skirt, talking to one of the sellers of books that line the Seine. A wide smile is on my face as I listen to the man. The photograph is called Kindness.

“Sartre,” I murmur. “He was explaining who Jean-Paul Sartre was.”

“These are so cool. Did the agency send them to you?”

My gaze travels to the fourth and final one. Me, waist-deep in the swimming hole in Bali. In black and white, the shapes stand out in stark contrast. The waterfall a stilled roar behind me. My eyes are closed and my arms outstretched, a smile on my lips.

Curiosity, this one is titled.

“No,” I say quietly. “The agency didn’t send these.”

“Then who? The travel company? Oh, look, Ivy. There’s a card.” She hands me an envelope, three letters scrawled in sharp, capital letters on the front. Ivy.

I pull out the card inside.

Ivy,

You took my breath away in every single one of these shots. This is how I see you. Strong and kind, curious and joyful. Traveling with you was the best adventure I’ve ever had. If I lose this bet today, I will still feel like I’ve won, for having experienced it. If you’ll have me, I’ll by your side for future adventures too.

Looking forward to seeing you today,

Rhys

“You’re smiling,” Penny murmurs. “Is it from him? The photographer?”

I hand her the note in silence, my smile growing as she squeals. “Oh my God. This is… wow. Now we know, then. He will definitely be there today.”

I nod, sinking down into my couch. Nerves flutter through my stomach at the mention. “He will, yes.”

I look back at the photographs. No one had ever captured me that well. Captured me, not who I was posing as. Penny knows everything. I told her all of it, from St. Barts to Paradise Shores.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, sitting down beside me.

My throat feels dry. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship before. As much as I want to try, I’m not sure how it’ll turn out. And I don’t know if… What if I get hurt again?”

Her gaze softens. “You’ll never know how a relationship will turn out before you have it.”

“How did you do it? With Jason? You’ve been together for years.”

Her smile widens, even if it remains soft. My little sister, who’s bravery personified. “It’s scary. Opening yourself up that way. You’ll have arguments, disagreements, things that annoy one another. But instead of that ending the relationship, they make it grow stronger. It’s…” She shakes her head and moves closer, reaching out to clasp my hand in hers. “Ivy, I know you’ve never been in a relationship before. And you’re hardworking and proper and have a ton of integrity. I get why letting someone in goes against the grain, but it’s so, so worth it when you do.”

I wrap my fingers around hers. “That was a great answer.”

“Thank you.” Her smile widens. “Have you decided if you’re going to give him another chance or not?”

We’ve discussed this at length for the past weeks, every angle, every possibility. Pouring out my heart to her and hearing her rail about Rhys had been cathartic, just as her quiet musings about his clear interest had been.

In the end, there’s only one answer, and it had been Rhys who’d prompted