2. Not So Undercover

The feel of the camera weighting against my palms was a reassuring feeling. My fingers ran across the smooth edges of the device, skimming the assortment of buttons and levers as my eyes scanned the scenery around me. Usually walking through the woods held a certain relaxation for me, though today it did nothing to calm the anxiousness rising in my chest.

I raised the camera to my eye, only to lower it a second later in frustration, when the feeling didn’t leave me.

Inspiration was hard to come by and it certainly couldn't be forced. I ran a single hand through my mane of hair, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Where are you working? Are you even earning enough?” My father questioned and I could hear the sneer that would certainly be positioned on his face. He had never supported my decision to move to Seattle in order to pursue a passion. He had stressed on numerous occasions that he didn't believe I would be able to support myself making, displaying, and selling art.

"That’s not your problem.” I tried to reel in the hostility that was beginning to boil in my gut. I could feel the words that I wanted to spew out beginning to make their way up my throat. I had a temper, that fact certainly wasn't a secret, though unleashing my anger on him would only have negative effects.

“You’re my daughter, Savannah, of course it is.” He spoke, his condescending tone only succeeding in infuriating me more. “How’s your house? Good condition? Good security?” The mocking edge to his voice reminded me of the fact that he didn't believe what I was doing was what I should be doing. In his mind, Hank Stone’s daughter was destined for better things, bigger than art galleries and photography and working ten hour shifts at a hole-in-the-wall diner. In his mind, I was to be a lawyer, a doctor, something that would be highly respected and, even more so, make me highly rich.

“The house is fine.” I responded shortly, running my hand over the counter-top in my kitchen. He didn’t respond and I knew my lie had fallen short. I gripped the phone tightly as my eyes scanned my quant kitchen. The room surely never would have met his standards, though it had surely exceeded mine. I had fallen in love with the chipped yellow walls and the older white cabinets that hung awkwardly off their hinges. It wasn't anything fancy, though it was cozy and more than I needed.

“And how’s the gallery?” He spat out, the word was spoken with distaste.

“Business is good.” My gaze flickered to the window, my teeth digging into my lip at my lie. The fact that my only job was my one at the diner was clear that business was non-existent.

He exhaled sharply. “Savannah, obviously this isn’t working for you. It’s been five months and you’re still working at that diner and living in a shit-hole. You need to come back home.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to his words. My parents had never been one to support my dreams. From the start of high-school I had known that I didn't want to go to a university, which they rejected straight away. They knew that I had a passion for art and creating and their refusal to it never went unnoticed by me.

Hearing my silence, he continued “Your mother and I are willing to help you get back on your feet at home. This idea is ridiculous, honey. You need to come back. We can get you enrolled in a school and we'll even help pay for an apartment for you.”

Feeling my last string of calmness break, I let the words I had been dying to say spill out. “You aren’t ever going to realize that I’m content with my life here. I like what I do and I’m willing to work for it! Can't you see that? I don't want your help or your money.”

"Savannah," His tone was sharp and he clearly wasn't pleased with the disrespect in my words. "Don't be stupid. I thought we raised you better. Haven't you learned better than to work for something that most likely won't happen?"

The throbbing in my head increased at his words and I pressed my fingertips to my temples. When I didn't respond to his words, he pressed on. "And don't even get me started on your mother, Savannah. You're still not talking to her? It's been a month. You should try to understand why she is so upset by your choices. We didn't think you would actually follow through with moving to Seattle. We both believed it was silly dreams. And for you not to talk to her...?" He trailed off, disaprovement and disgust coloring my tone. "That's terrible of you."

"She said she wouldn't speak to me if I moved." My teeth sunk into my lip. "I'm not the one ignoring her. She's ignoring me - maybe you should ask her about that instead." I snapped, my words rigid and cold.

"I have, Savannah." His tone was equally angry. "Multiple times. I don't appreciate you putting this stress on your mother. She wants what's best for you. And can you imagine what people are saying about our family? Many probably think you're pregnant or worse. It's humiliating."

His words caused the lump in my throat to grow significantly and I swallowed treacherously. "I don't care!" I burst out, forcing the tears not to fall. "You don't understand and you never will. I don't know why it hurts so much to realize that."

He was quieted by my words and I continued. “I’m not coming home. Goodbye.”

Letting the camera hang from the neck strap, I felt my brow crinkle with the memory. I had always known they wouldn't support my dreams, though I couldn't deny the hurt that flooded through my chest at the thought.

With my motivation and inspiration to attempt to take photos washed away, I twisted the lens cap on and raised my arm to glance at the watch that adorned my wrist.

My shift at Barb's Grill started in a mere fifteen minutes.

Letting out a loud and a very unflattering curse, I started walking in the direction I had come from. Weaving myself through the thick trees, I fumbled with my cell phone which had been wedged deeply into the front pocket of my jeans.

Letting out a groan when I realized that I had no service, I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

There was no doubt I going to be late.

Cursing underneath my breath, I tightened my hold on the device in my hands. Elise, the manage, wasn't lenient with lateness. My car, which miraculously had a flat tire, was out of working order forcing me to walk to the distance to the diner everyday for the past week, more times than not leaving me late and without a big-enough reason to be in Elise's mind. The warnings and threats of firing me had clearly begun to build up and the worry that she would follow through this time had me taking larger strides.

Reluctantly attempting to speed up my pace and still trying to navigate myself accurately through the trees and brush, I didn't realize until it was too late that I was about to smash into someone.

And smash I did.

The force from whoever had been running, threw me back and I landed, rather painfully, on my butt.

Letting out a moan, I shut my eyes, more out of embarrassment rather than pain.

With my butt throbbing and already knowing that it was going to be a tough shift with a bruised ass, I forced my eyes open to stare at the person I had slammed into.

And I almost died.

Again.

Standing right in front of me was the man I had collided with. The term 'beefcake' much more appropriate. My eyes ran over his physique and I resisted the urge to drool.

He was breathing heavily, the muscles in his arms rippling as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"I’m sorry about that." He panted and I nearly fainted at the sound of his wonderful, deep, yummy voice. "I didn't see you."

"It was my fault." I blurted, fumbling with my camera to check that it had survived the fall. It was an excuse to look down, to hopefully hide the horrid blush staining my cheeks.

"You okay?" He questioned. His honey colored hair was sticking up in every direction possible, while his white t-shirt showed off his rigid abdomen underneath.

Was I drooling? I sure hope not.

I had positively died and gone to heaven. Hopefully with this god in front of me or even hot cop, if he kept his large mouth shut.

"Oh, yeah," I waved my hand, acting nonchalant. "It happens."

The guy's head tilted. "You tend to smash into people, you mean?" he let out a laugh, and my cheeks burned. "You're still on the ground." He observed, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

"Right," I squeaked out, clumsily getting to my feet. My cheeks flushed brightly and I mentally winced at the fact that they most likely resembled that of a firetruck.

His amused expression didn't pass me by, only making me flush more. "It's a sign, I suppose." He winked. "Not every day I get to run into a pretty girl, literally."

I fidgeted, feeling my awkwardness grow. It wasn’t like I was attractive. My hair was too wavy, the strands framing my face curling up in a way that had me constantly smoothing them down. My green eyes were too-light and too-wide, often giving me a doe-eyed and innocent appearence that I disliked. My nose had a ridge in it that I loathed and my bottom lip jutted out too far. And with the humidity in the air, I was sure my hair had similarities to a Pomeranian's.

If he saw any doubt on my face, he didn't question it.

His gaze drifted to where my hands were fluttering nervously. "And not every day do you run into a guy of my physique. I wouldn't be surprised if you have that camera because you were taking pictures of me."

My mouth flopped open, "Excuse me?"

The guy just chuckled, running a hand through his hair, as my face reddened. "You blush easily."

"Well, that wasn't obvious at all." I bit out sarcastically, cupping a hand to my cheek and feeling the sudden urge to lodge my fist into that perfect face of his.

"Feisty," He chuckled, a smirk appearing on his face.

"I just-" I shook my head, cutting myself off after realizing it wasn't worth the bother.

"You know what? I'm in a bit of a hurry - in fact, I’m in a huge hurry and I’m going to be late." I mumbled, scratching the back of my head. "So - uh - yeah, I should probably go..." Feeling stupid, I clapped my hands together. “But, this has been great!”

His brows creased and his head tilted as he strared at me. "I have my car around the corner - do you need a ride?"

I frowned, my eyes narrowing at the blonde boy. "Do you actually think I'm going to take a ride with a stranger?"

Yes, my mind echoed, Yes you are.

The guy smirked, the expression I was beginning to realize he often wore, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Cameron.”

My hand somehow made it into his. "Savannah."

"Not strangers anymore.” He winked and chuckled when he saw my hesitant expression. “In fact, I know a way we can get to know each other better.” His wiggled his eyebrows.

I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing sharply at the boy. “Pervert,”

He shrugged. “You love it.”

My head tilted, as I stared at him. "And why are you willing to help me? We just met." I inquired, tucking a handful of hair behind my ear.

Cameron smiled again, his eyes waggling once again in my direction. "Like I said, it's not every day you run into a pretty girl."

Rolling my eyes, I pursed my lips. It was either be late to work and piss of my boss, or take the ride with this very handsome boy and possibly be murdered by some crazy ex-convict.

Feeling rebellious I grinned at him.

Option number two, it was.

"Fine, I'll let you give me a ride. I have to get to work." I crossed my arms tightly around my torso, watching him carefully.

He only saluted me. "Yes, ma'am,” Gesturing towards the road, he spoke. “My car is this way."

Cameron turned to go, but I caught his shirt, giving him the evil eye once he faced me. "But, if you try anything funny, Mister, I will castrate you with a spoon."

He gulped, his eyes widening. "That does not sound pleasant."

The smile I gave him was menacing. "It isn't."

He was staring at me, still looking a little frightened, so I clapped my hands together quickly. "Well, come on! Let’s go!”

He was quick to turn back around.

I fell into step behind him, admiring his muscular back. I had a sudden urge to run my hand over the muscles to see if it felt as good as it looked.

It was one decent backside.

"So, how old are you?" He questioned, seemingly over his slight fear of my castration methods.

I bit my lip. "I'm nineteen, what about you?"

“Twenty-four," He proclaimed, before winking. "But, it’s okay, I like them young."

I blushed, before slapping his arm. "That sounds disgusting. You sound even more perverted.”

Cameron chuckled, before pulling out his far keys and walking over to a BMW and unlocking it. "I'm definitely no pervert. I can rock your world."

My face wrinkled up. "I wouldn't bet on it..."

My eyebrows cocked as he touched the shiny surface of the car.

“What?" Cameron questioned, his head snapping up to look at me. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Make out with your car later." I snorted, as the affectionate look in his eyes disappeared.

Cameron let out a scoff. "Do you know what car this is, Savannah?"

I crossed my arms. "Do I look like give a damn? A car has one purpose, to drive you somewhere, somewhere I have to be soon." I stressed, hinting at him.

He sighed, patting his car gently. "Love you." He cooed and I snorted.

He shot me a glare. "One more remark and I-"

I raised my hands. "I was just thinking how I would bet high money that you have a name for your car."

He scratched the back of his head. "Kate." He explained and I raised my eyebrows. "Kate? Why Kate?"

"Kate - like the supermodel with the big-"

"Ugh." my face wrinkled and I let out a disturbed grunt at the mental image that appeared in my mind. "I change my mind, don't tell me."

He laughed, nodding towards the passenger side "Get in. I need to know where you work, so I can take you there." He commanded, getting into the driver's side and slamming the door.

I let out a huff, but followed his orders.

I nearly drooled at the interior of the car, poking at the fancy seat. Compared to my old truck, mine was garbage. "Can I have your car?" I sighed.

Cameron shot me a sour look. "Sure. Just let me hand you the keys." The sarcasm was clear in his voice and I rolled my eyes.

"How do you afford something like this?" I muttered to myself and my curiosity peaked when he frowned at my outwardly spoken thought.

"Where am I going?" He questioned, flicking on the radio and turning the volume to a low level.

I smiled, pretending not to notice that he had avoided my question. "Barb's grill, thanks."

"You work at Barb's grill?" He seemed surprised for reasons I didn't understand.

I nodded and he chuckled. "I've never seen you there." He commented.

Tilting my head at him, I shrugged. “I’ve ever seen you either."

"I'm a regular." He explained, pulling onto the road, sounding too proud for his own good. "How long have you worked there?"

I bit my lip. "Two weeks?"

"Well, that explains it. I haven't been there in a while." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Is it your first job?"

"Uh - no." I hesitated.

Cameron looked interested, from the amused smirk that had pulled his mouth into a half smile. "You were fired, I'm guessing?" He suggested, his lips curling up even more.

“Yes and for unjustly reasons!" I slammed my fist down on the dashboard and he let out a yelp. "Careful, be gentle with Kate.”

I rolled my eyes and his eyebrows cocked. "I bet it wasn't unjustly."

I narrowed my eyes at. "Yes, it was." I sniffed.

"Then, what happened?" He pried and I let out a garble. "I worked at a boutique, when I first moved here, and I went to clean out one of the dressing room. My boss followed me in and made his move. I slapped him when he attempted to feel me up and that was that. Oh! And kicked him in his..." I stopped.

He winced, before his eyebrows rose. "The guy decided to make his move in a dressing room? Kind of cliché, don't you think?"

"That's all you got from that?" I scowled at him.

He had the nerve to grin and nod enthusiastically. "Yup!"

Resisting the urge to punch his arm, I leaned back. I was satisfied to see we were almost to the grill and I was still alive.

"Thank the lord." I mumbled under my breath and he let out a snort. "Surprised I'm not some creepy murderer?"

"No." I mumbled, my teeth locking onto my bottom lip.

"Uh huh." He nodded. "What if I, instead, drove past the restaurant and took you to my cabin in the woods to kill you? Huh? What then?"

I narrowed my eyes at him "Stop it!"

Cameron laughed, shaking his head as he put on his blinker and turned into the parking lot. "At least it shut you up."

I stuck my tongue out at him, childishly. As soon as he had pulled into a parking spot, I thanked him and eased myself out, tying my locks up in a high ponytail.

It took me a moment to realize that the blond boy hadn't left. He had gotten out of his car, as well.

"What now?" I mused, starting for the restaurant. "Are you stalking me now?"

"I’m going in to enjoy a nice lunch with a couple of my buddies, who I just texted." His rose his eyebrows as he pulled open the door. "Why? Do you want me to?" He winked.

"No-" But I didn't have a chance to respond, the door had slammed in my face.

Scowling, I rubbed at my nose, which had taken most of the hit. I quickly pulled open the door, "Wow, thanks for holding the door! You're such a nice stranger." I hissed at him and he shot me an amused look.

"Don't you work here? Shouldn't you be holding the door for me?"

Ignoring his snide comment, I pushed past the infuriating boy and started for the back, my intent on changing into my work uniform and docking in.

"Savannah!" Elise launched herself at me, her arms gripping mine. "Oh my god." She gasped. "You're here! We are filled to the brim." She released me. “Change into your uniform! Quickly!"

I grumbled as I stared at her retreating back. Elise was one of my friends when she wasn't working. When she was, all bets were off.