“I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” She took a breath. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Not what you expected, am I?” he said with that slight growl.
Josie shook her head. “No, I…I just meant Max didn’t warn…Or that I didn’t, I wasn’t expecting—”
“It’s the work that should be impressive, not the man—or woman—behind it.” He waved a hand to encompass his body. “Doesn’t matter what I look like.”
“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “You caught me off-guard, that’s all.” If Max had just warned her, then she wouldn’t be coming across like a blundering idiot right now. And had Erin known? The way she was smiling made it look like she had, which seemed bloody weird in Josie’s opinion. The two of them, teaming up in a show of let’s be friends with Max’s ex-conquest. She took a breath, fighting to claw herself back. “I think you—your work, that is—is incredible. I saw the exhibition at Somerset House and I—”
But he waved his hand, cut her off, and looked at Max instead. “You told me the girl had talent, Max, not that she was a fan girl.”
Josie felt herself flush, both at the words themselves and at the fact that he was talking about her as if she weren’t in the room. She wanted, so badly, to glare at Max, but Geoffrey was watching her now. She looked him straight in the eye, straightened her spine a little. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask Max to…Well. And I don’t have talent, it’s just a hobby, I play around with it, but I do really admire—”
He cut her off again with his hand. “I’ll be the one to decide if you have talent or not.” He held out that same hand, glancing deliberately at the camera she still had strapped across her.
She only gripped it more tightly. “They’re only of the last couple of days, and that’s only been for fun, they’re not edited or anything yet.”
He kept his hand out. “Well, that way I’ll be able to tell if you’re any good, without you faffing around with filters or whatnot.”
Slowly, she took the camera out of its bag and passed it to him. He immediately turned his attention to it and she wrapped her arms around herself, not knowing what to do with her body. “Really,” she insisted, “I didn’t ask Max, I don’t want a favor, I’m not—”
“I know that.” His voice, though still gravelly, was more patient this time as he focused on her camera, not her. He flicked a glance to where she was standing, biting her lip. “But Max here can be pushy when he wants to be, I know it. He got you here, didn’t he?” Max only grinned, and at that, Josie’s glare finally cut loose. Geoffrey laughed at that. “Quite.” His expression softened a little, his eyebrows flattening out as he looked directly at Max. “Though I’d say it’d be nice to see a little more of that pushiness coming through again—it’s been missing for the last year or so, hasn’t it?”
Max sipped his tea. “It’s coming back to me, every now and then.”
“Glad to hear it. Now be quiet.” He flicked through the first few photos, glanced at Max. “I take it these are your work.”
Josie grimaced—the photos of her and Erin, in the field. “Yep,” said Max, stretching out his legs. “I’m discovering my talent late in life.”
Geoffrey made no comment, just kept looking through the photos. Josie let go of her arms, twisted her hands in front of her, knowing she was holding her breath but unable to stop. She felt unbelievably vulnerable, standing there while someone in the industry appraised her work, while Max and his bloody girlfriend sat there on the same chair, looking all smug.
Geoffrey looked up, grunted, and handed the camera back to her. “Talent, yes.” He took a sip of his tea.
When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Josie bit her lip. “Umm, thanks.” He stared at her for a moment and though she felt heat creep into her cheeks, she didn’t drop the gaze, sensing somehow that it was the wrong thing to do in that moment.
“Email me some of your best work,” he said eventually. He got up, crossed to the desk, and moved a couple of things around, then came back to her with a business card. She took it.
“I, umm, have an Instagram account.”
He shook his head and those eyebrows pulled together. “No. I hate all that social media crap.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Really, Geoff, you’d think you were ninety, not forty-five.”