A/N: so sorry for the long wait! thank you guys for all your reviews. i haven't been in the greatest writing mood – i've been completely lost on how to continue the two completely different stories i'm writing on here. hopefully a couple of you have stuck around to see how i work with this plot. so here we go...
CHAPTER TWO - The Black Staircase
Less than twenty four hours later, there I was again, standing in front of C&M Photography. I took a deep breath and I pushed through the glass door, half wanting to turn back and run all the way back home. I cautiously took a step inside and grasped at Pete's hand.
The inside of the store looked as nice as it's exterior -- black walls dotted with beautiful framed black and white photos, silver glass shelves displaying expensive digital cameras, camera lenses and picture frames of all sizes. I peered around one of the shelves and saw an African-American man in a suit standing behind the counter. He seemed to notice our presence, his head shooting up and greeting us with a smile.
"Hello! I'm George. How may I help you, today?" The smile didn't seem quite as genuine as in one quick motion, he gazed at both Pete and I, and seemed to be assessing our appearance. I bet seeing two teenagers, one dressed in a pleated mini skit, a denim jacket and old Converse sneakers, the other in baggy jeans and shirt, standing around in a high-class photography store wasn't something he was used to.
Pete put on a smile as fake as the man's as we approached him and said,
"We were actually just looking for someone. A Mr. Craig Manning. The owner of the store?"
"Certainly. Do you have an appointment?"
"A-An appointment?" I asked uncertainly.
"I'm assuming you want to book studio time with him? His schedule's fairly booked. Let me see...," he said, flipping through a large binder. "The next opening is three weeks from now." He looked up at us expectantly.
"Well – no. I – we -- just wanted to speak to him," I stammered.
"Oh," he said in a surprised tone. "Mr. Manning is actually in the upstairs studio with a client at the moment. But let me see if he can accommodate you." He turned away from us and walked into the back office. I took both of Pete's hands in mine and groaned.
"Shit. I think I'm going to puke. He's upstairs. A guy who could possibly be my dad – a couple of feet away." Pete smiled and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight.
"You'll be fine," he whispered in my ear. He slowly pulled away as George came out from the back.
"Yes. He said it was fine. You can head upstairs." He pointed to the right of us, to a black staircase I hadn't noticed while looking around the store. It led up to the next level.
"Thank you," I said as we started to walk away.