The Rebel. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
river’s edge, along a narrow strip of rocky beach. The water glittered in the sunlight like a jeweled ribbon winding through the land.
“I could use a few shots of this.” He reached alongside her leg, his brief touch startling her for a second before she realized he was retrieving the camera bag at her feet. “Do you mind spending a few minutes here?”
His attention was fixed on his camera, where he turned dials and adjusted settings. She watched him for a moment, intrigued. She tried not to think about the fact that her knee still tingled from the barest contact with his knuckles. She’d never thought of Marcus in that way until yesterday, and now she wasn’t sure how to ignore the attraction that lurked too close to the surface. Something strange had happened between them yesterday. Something more than just Marcus accusing her of spying for his brother.
“Sure.” She told herself to go for a walk along the water’s edge. Anything to put physical distance between them. But she couldn’t seem to stop watching him as he lined up a shot of the river partly framed by a wavy tree branch. She could see the whole image on the screen that took up most of the camera’s back. “That’s a great shot. You have a really good eye for composition.”
His hands stilled on the camera for a moment. Then he turned his gaze her way.
“My brother once informed me that I have a talent for art because I only have to please myself, whereas he has the better disposition for business because he cares what other people think.” He went back to work on his camera, shifting a few dials to take the same picture with different settings.
She knew Devon could be cold. Calculating, even. But she’d always appreciated his levelheaded practicality. She was wired the same way.
“Do you think there’s any merit to that idea?” Lily knew she’d never have any hope of helping these two warring siblings reconcile their interests unless she understood Marcus better. She told herself that’s why she wanted to know.
Overhead, a bird wheeled in circles before diving into the water with a splash. The air was cold today, but the sky was a perfect, unspoiled blue in every direction.
“I agree Devon is a people pleaser, and I’m not. That doesn’t necessarily mean he possesses a better head for business.” He clicked the shutter a few times, capturing new images of the water before refocusing on another bird searching for a meal.
It was interesting to watch him work. Salazar Media had its roots in the digital world, with the brothers on the forefront of engaging online audiences in constantly changing ways.
“Devon excels at pitching our services to big business. You drive the creative side.” She couldn’t understand why he didn’t see that the two of them needed each other. “That gives the company balance.”
“But I’m not interested in balance.” He shot images in fast succession as the bird dived to the water. “I don’t care about generating the biggest possible bottom line. I care about challenging myself and finding new outlets that interest me. That’s what keeps art vibrant. That’s what puts our business on the cutting edge.”
Setting the camera on the seat between them, he turned toward her, giving her his undivided attention.
“But the business shouldn’t be all about you,” she said softly. The company had grown rapidly in five years, and they now had satellite offices around the country. They were talking about going global.
She’d climbed the ladder fast at her job, and she owed much of that to how quickly Salazar Media had expanded.
“Why not? It was my brainchild. My work that started it. The company wasn’t meant to be a business opportunity for the whole family, just an outlet for my art. Now I can afford to buy my brother out.” He leaned closer, warming to the topic. “I’m done compromising my vision for his.”
In the river, a fish jumped and splashed in the slow-moving water.
“Salazar Media isn’t just you and Devon anymore. There are whole offices full of employees whose livelihoods would be hurt if you scaled back.” She wondered if he’d thought this through.
“You think I should let Devon buy me out of Salazar Media and start over on my own?”
That’s what he’d taken away from her comment? She’d never met anyone who thought like him before.
“Of course not. You’ve earned a strong reputation and the respect of industry professionals. You wouldn’t want to walk away from that.”
“Which isn’t a problem for someone who doesn’t care what other people think, remember?” He leaned back against the door, studying her from farther away. “Maybe you’ve got too much in common with my brother to understand that. You’re a people pleaser, too.”
She stiffened.
“It’s not a matter of pleasing others.” She wasn’t sure why they were talking about her. She wasn’t the one threatening to break up the family business. “But I do care how my choices affect others.”
“An artist can’t afford to care about that. I have to be impervious to criticism in order to keep creating art.” His knee bumped hers as he shifted, reminding her of that keen awareness she had for him. “I have to passionately believe in my choices in spite of what anyone else says.”
“That makes sense.” She crossed her ankles, giving him more room. Only to be polite, of course, and not because she was worried about the way his touches affected her. “But you don’t need to become so completely self-absorbed that you discount the preferences of others.”
“But creating work that I’m proud of requires me to be relentlessly honest with myself.” His dark eyes seemed to laser in on hers. Challenging her. “If the court of public opinion fell away, and there was no one else in the world to approve or disapprove of what I’m doing, would I still make that same choice?”
His gaze seemed to probe the depths of her soul as he spoke. As though his words, somehow, applied to her.
The people pleaser.
“If you’re suggesting that Devon and I both make our decisions based on larger factors than personal desire, I couldn’t agree more. Your brother tries to do what’s best for Salazar Media.” She felt defensive. Of herself. Of Devon.
“What about you, Lily?”
“I don’t own a stake in the company,” she reminded him.
“I realize that,” he said, more gently. “Consider it a hypothetical question to help put yourself in my shoes.” He stared out at the Bitterroot River again, perhaps sensing that the conversation was getting under her skin. “If you weren’t worried about other people’s opinions, would you still make the same choices?”
No.
The answer was immediate. Definitive. Surprising her with its force.
She had made so many decisions based on people’s expectations of her that it would be difficult to point to those few that she’d made purely for herself. Though her job was one of them.
Still, she would never be able to discount what her grandparents wanted. They’d raised her, taking her in when her mother had quit caring about her. And she would always owe them for that.
But she couldn’t deny that she may have given them too strong of a voice in her future—in everything from her job and her education to, yes, her pick of fiancé. That didn’t make it a mistake, did it? They wanted what was best for her.
In the quiet aftermath of Marcus’s question, she didn’t like the new lens he’d given her to view her own decisions. Because what she saw through his eyes was not the woman she wanted to be.
The autumn breeze off the water suddenly brought a deeper chill, and Lily was grateful when Marcus turned the vehicle back toward the ranch.
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