With Connor gone I immediately got to work on taking care of my gear after the moisture and editing my photos. I wanted to sulk, but I knew that overthinking was a slippery slope with me. One wrong step and I would be tumbling until I couldn't sleep and had no appetite. So, to combat that I had to run on all cylinders. I had studied Western Snowboarder's photo selection before I had sent in my submission. I knew what kind of lighting, what kind of angles and shots they were looking for. It had been forever since I had profiled individual magazines to scrap together some samples to show them. After becoming engaged to Connor and proving my worth to his team I never thought I would have to do such a thing again. My work had been handed to me.

But, if I was being honest, it was quite the change from trying to get clear images of hockey players on stark ice while their skates carved. Sure, there was an undeniable thrill to hockey, but once I knew what the media was looking for and what certain players liked it became habit and repetitive. This was something new entirely. It forced me to think and use my camera's other features to achieve what I wanted.

The photos that I thought I would have to scrap actually became some of the better ones. the lighting wasn't always ideal, but it was easy enough to fix with a few careful clicks and the snowboarders all looked great, clear and well documented. Though I didn't understand very much about snowboarding I was able to see how talented these guys really were. Blackflips, frontflips, crazy spinning tricks, it was all here, plus some smaller, more technical stuff.

I had been sitting in front of my computer for about an hour when my phone rang.

"Hey Jen," I answered into the receiver, pinching my sleek smartphone between my shoulder and my ear. Just seeing her name on my screen had eased the heaviness in my heart.

"Hey Pen," she greeted back, her voice light and chipper.

Jen was my older sister. And she was the kind of woman that shallow girls hated because they were intimidated by her. Back in high school she had won several beauty pageants and it wasn't anything to do with her talent or her stage presence. She was gorgeous. Her smile wasn't the kind that lit up her whole face. It was the kind that lit up a whole room. Even without make up she was a goddess. But with her it didn't stop there. She was so sweet to everyone she met. She had this special way about her that made anyone feel so special and cared for which was why she presumed a career as a nurse and exceled beyond what anyone had expected.

After years I was not immune to my sisters ways and the softness of her voice.

"What's up?" I asked, but with my sister it was like she had a sixth sense of things being wrong in my life.

"Just wondering how your night was going. Today was your photoshoot with those snowboarders right?"

"Yeah."

"And? How did it go?"

"It went okay," I answered, narrowing my eyes at one of my photos. Something was wrong with it, not quite sitting perfectly. But with my mind split between the conversation and editing I wasn't going to figure it out.

"Okay? You worked with some of the hottest snowboarders and you call your day okay?" she demanded, unable to repress a giggle from the other line.

"I mean they're pretty good, but as far as I knew they aren't at the top of the charts," I dismissed, absently fiddling with the hues in the photo.

"Not that kind of hot," Jen said, sounding exasperated, but then laughed again. "Tyson Redder is a babe and Hudson Wilson is a smoke show." I could almost picture her fanning herself on the other end, sitting in her living room while her husband was making her supper.

But, when it came to Tyson all I could think about were his lude comments. The idea that he was attractive seemed blasphemous. And with Hudson the only prominent part of him was that he had been horrendously late and never apologized for it once.

"I didn't get a look at either of them. Under all the gear with the goggles and helmets it's almost impossible to know what any of them look like."

"Oh come on, I know you're going through all of your photos like you always do, just pull them up on a browser."

I didn't even think twice about it. My fingers typed in Tyson's name first. And my sister was right, as usual. He was quite handsome, but there was something that didn't sit well with me. He was the opposite of Jen. He was the kind of guy who knew he was attractive and used it as an excuse to make lude comments towards me and I imagine other people as well. Because of that I groaned into the phone and denied any attraction.

Then we moved onto Hudson Wilson.

"Oh damn," I whispered into the phone. I felt my eyebrows raise and my tongue run along my lips.

"Right?" Jen squealed.

And that man who had shown up a few hours late was certainly something to see, though not in a traditional sense. From the few photos that were online it was hard to tell if he had chiseled abs and arms to die for. In fact, in most photos I could hardly see more than his face. But it was those warm brown eyes that drew me in. they weren't icy and calculating. They weren't piercing and intense. Instead, they were warm and playful. And his smile was unapologetic, stretching his lisp to reveal white teeth. All of that matched with tan skin, almost black hair, and a thin nose, it was enough to make most women take a second glance.

"You can't tell me that you wouldn't date a guy that fine," Jen stated.

And at the word date I tensed up. for a brief moment I had forgotten about Tyson's lude comments and about my choice to never date clients again. Those thoughts brought up another.

"Connor was in the apartment again today," I whispered.

"Oh, Pen," Jen sighed.

"It wasn't as bad as last time. He didn't really get in my face and threaten to destroy everything that I've done for myself."

"He's an asshole. Like a really big asshole who never deserved you." I think Jen had only ever hated one person aside from Connor. It took a lot to make a girl like her vengeful. Somehow, Connor had done it.

"It's okay, Jen," I said, no longer paying attention to any of my pictures.

"He can't do anything to you."

"He has already derailed my career and he keeps threatening to do more."

"Maybe it's time for you to move. If the landlord won't let you change the locks because he's got a man crush on Connor then you should go get a new place. I know he wouldn't hurt you physically, but he's doing lots of emotional damage I think."

"I can't afford one yet. My photography helped, but when we broke down the numbers I ended up owing him a fair amount of my savings. I need at least four more shoots before I can even consider moving out and the lease is up at the end of next month anyway."

"It would make more sense for you to move towards Banff if you think that you are going to be doing ski and snowboard photography from here on out," Jen suggested.

"I haven't decided on anything. At this point I can't afford to be picky," I groaned. On top of everything else of course Connor would make me worry about my financial state. I was doing him a favor by keeping my mouth shut and all he was doing was screwing me over.

"Okay, take a deep breath," Jen instructed. "How about you just work on your photos tonight and forget about what I said. I'm working the nightshift tomorrow and Thursday but we can go out for supper together on Friday. I'll get in contact with my old pageant team and see if anyone needs professional headshots or anything like that."

"What would I do without you Jen?" I asked.

"You would do just fine. I'm just here to smooth out the rougher bits for you," she assured, "Now you probably have tons of editing to do so I'll let you go. Get ready for drinks and deep fried food on Friday."

I hung up with Jen and pulled my blonde hair into a mess bun. I could handle this. at least until Friday.