Twist of Fate - Chapter 3: Encounter at the Cove [an original novel]

Swinging palms, bleached sand, and the airborne scent of salt. Despite Lizzy's initial trepidation, the drive to the location was smooth and quite relaxing in a way. The long roads were sandwiched by rolling hills until reaching a quiet little town. Lizzy could hear the thud of car doors being shut every now and then. Beachgoers and holidaymakers dotted the shore. On the far left, down an inclination of beach dunes and beyond the occasional rock formation, there was a piece of beach where the roaring waves eased into the half-moon shaped area, before petering out gently. It was in this picturesque backdrop where those involved in the shoot walked to and fro, shouting out instructions, and setting up for the day.

It had rained the night before, so the sand held a porous texture. Quickly, Lizzy put on her flip flops and then proceeded to lug her heavy case all the way into the Cove.

"You need some help with that?" someone asked her. She raised her head to see a man sitting on the smooth surface of a nearby rock. He didn't seem connected to her crowd at all. He wore a red cap and was watching her from behind his shades. Dodgy.

"No thanks, I'm good," she said, averting her gaze.

"You didn't look so good to me a second ago," he drawled, shrugging. He was definitely referring to when she had tripped over a shell.

She paused, letting out a flustered, "Excuse me?"

All of a sudden, she felt self-conscious as she wondered how closely he was regarding her from behind his dark glasses. True enough, her hair was most-likely a curly mess...but that was the moist air's doing!

As if sensing her train of thought he went on to explain, "That looks pretty heavy. I'm surprised you made it all the way down here from the parking lot. No offense intended, of course. I was just offering a helping hand. But if you like struggling along on your own, that's fine too."

She was sure her mouth was hanging open, unable to formulate a response. Lizzy shook her head, declined his offer once more, and then again, before continuing on her way.

When she reached the others, she received her name-tag from what appeared to be an overly caffeinated woman. Within a matter of minutes, she was matched with a makeup artist, model, photographer, and a time slot. As the make-up artist inspected the gorgeously sculpted face of their model, Lizzy swept her eyes across the area. Sane Agency had invited three other boutiques to dress their models. Suffice to say, the area was filled with mostly unfamiliar faces who either beamed with excitement or were frowning in concentration. Lizzy recognized a few people from her social media circle. She exchanged casual pleasantries with a stylist before the woman went back to her team.

"Hey, you," greeted a large man with thick-rimmed glasses and a clipboard. It was none other than O'Hare, director of the project, and representative of Sane. "You're from Flourish? Excellent. Could I have a look at what you've got? It's for inventory in case things get mixed up a little later."

Lizzy acquiesced and scrambled to get her things. As with most large shoots, everyone's belongings always had a tendency to get mixed up at some point. The vibe was hectic, energetic, and productive. Despite the small talk and occasional laughter, an air of competitiveness graced the area. Josh would have loved it. Said designer was most likely cursing her for taking his place. Smiling wryly to herself, she decided she would have to treat him to his favorite snack in order to buy his affection once again.

Initially, they were running a bit behind schedule. One model threw a tantrum about the wind that started acting up when it was her turn. Her complaints had a sort of ripple effect that soured the organisers mood. However, once placated, the day carried on relatively smoothly. Except for the part where the photographer responsible for Lizzy's team was M.I.A.

For their first set, the auburn-haired model was dressed in a salmon pink sash with a navy-blue camisole. Large wooden beads circled her neck, wrists and ankles. Stacey, the makeup artist, worked her magic and blended blue and pink eye shadow in a simplistic but attractive way. Lizzy had been laying out the next set of clothing when Stacey walked by, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Our photographer isn't around, what in the hell are we going to do?" she whispered anxiously. Lizzy folded the skirt in her hand. Unfortunately, she couldn't offer much information since she was clueless as Stacey.

"Team 2, you're up," O'Hare called. Hesitantly, the model went to stand where the set-up was.

"I'm going to pretend I'm still doing finishing touches, you go find him quickly," Stacey pleaded before jogging away.

Lizzy didn't even know where to start. Hadn't the photographer been around when they all received their briefing? What was his name in the first place?

She exhaled heavily before starting her little search across the area. She walked a little way from their spot, asking one of the other photographers to assist, to no avail. They seemed intent on having their break and looked less than keen on volunteering when Lizzy suggested it.

She groaned. "Where is our photographer guy?" she muttered, feeling utterly drained.

"I'm a photographer!" someone called out suddenly, almost causing Lizzy to jump. The owner of the voice was on his knees with his camera resting on a mound of sand. "I just so happen to be a guy as well."

Baseball cap, sunglasses, and tacky shirt.

Lizzy jabbed her thumb backward to indicate her group. "I'm looking for a professional photographer," she explained.
As he stood up, he dusted off some grains of sand. "Well, want to see what I've got?" he asked, stepping forward.
Curiously, she walked closer to peek over at his camera. The preview showed the image of a tiny hermit crab on its journey skittering across the sand. She looked at the heap of sand and saw the last traces of where the little creature had been, before being scared away by their conversation, no doubt.

Baseball Cap Guy grinned. "Cute little guy, isn't he?" he said, as though seeking her approval.

"I guess so..." Lizzy had never really contemplated the cuteness factor of crabs. Starfishes, perhaps. But crabs? Never.
"Whoa," he exhaled, lowering his camera. Taking off his shades, he revealed a set of dark-chocolate eyes and brows that were raised in surprise. "Not a fan of cute things?"

"It's not that," she said, taking a step back. "I should actually be on my way, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Before she turned to leave, a thought occurred to her. "Wait a second, are you with the crew?"

"I believe I am, yes," he revealed.

And just like that, Lizzy was acquainted with the missing photographer. She remained mostly silent during their walk back as he passionately explained the cause of his absence. While the other teams were doing their work, he had gotten distracted by the wildlife in the rock pools. As such, he had busied himself with photographing all manners of things in the near vicinity. Although Lizzy could see the appeal, frankly, she thought it was quite irresponsible of him to go about his own way without checking in.

O'Hare met the two of them with a frown, offering some disapproving words at the Baseball-Cap photographer, who only chuckled in response. Their dynamic was that of an overseer and a naughty school boy. Without a second to waste, Lizzy focused her attention back on her clothing while they finished up the photo set. There was a couple of hiccups, but the teams worked swiftly to rectify matters. Soon, it was time for a break. During this interval, everyone seemed to disperse as they waited for the sunset before continuing with the final look. Lizzy left her belongings with Stacey and walked off to find something to eat.

Since it seemed like a crowd favorite, she stood in line at the gelato stand. Various flavours such as mango, strawberry, and classic vanilla filled the tubs. She made her decision quickly, going with the strawberry sorbet. Just as she was about to leave, someone's elbow bumped into her and sent her cone reeling forward. The paving was instantly decorated with a pink splatter.

"Yikes, sorry about that," the person said, turning to her. "Oh..." he trailed off when he saw who it was.

Lizzy scowled, "Thanks a ton."

She wasn't usually so tetchy with people, but this guy was certainly not the best at leaving a good impression. Awkwardly, he held out his own chocolate ice cream.

"You can have mine?" he offered.

There was a pause in which Lizzy blinked at him uncertainly. He retracted neither his hand nor his offer. He was absolutely serious.

"Err, no, thanks," she said resignedly.

"You seem to like turning down offers, don't you? Oh, hey! Don't just walk away." With swift strides, he easily caught up and walked alongside her. "Just wait one second, let me make it up to you, please."

Sensing that he would not take no for an answer, Lizzy relented, standing on one spot until he returned with a cone in hand. This time it hosted two scoops.

"For you, my lady," he said, adding in an exaggerated bow. Amused, Lizzy couldn't help but smile at his antics. She was surprised to find that he continued walking beside her as she approached the shore. He was tall in a way that required her to lift her chin to look at him properly. Without a hint of tact, she asked why he was heading in the same direction.
He paused, seemingly unsure of the answer himself. "I don't know. I thought it would be good to keep you company, if you don't mind. Something about you seems a little lonesome."

"That's a very predatorial thing to say, Mr. Baseball Cap and Shades," she deadpanned.

Laughter seemed to bubble up from deep within his chest. Lizzy regarded him dubiously as he tried to recover his composure. There didn't seem to be any creepy vibes from him as far as she could tell, perhaps because he looked a lot more forthcoming when his shades were off.

She wondered why he decided to gravitate towards her out of all the people he could have accompanied, but decided not to bring it up. She may have been slightly annoyed earlier, but it had since worn off. Besides, she wasn't a grouch by nature. So, with a casual shrug, she turned her head to watch the folks playing volleyball in the distance. Every now and then, her companion would give a quip or offer a side commentary as they ate their ice cream and observed the beachgoers.

Once half an hour had passed, the two made their way back to the cove.

"This might be a weird thing to ask only now, but what is your name?"

"Lizzy," she said, pointing at her nametag. "Lizzy McShaw."

He paused for a moment as he inspected the tag with great interest. For a moment he appeared dazed. It was evident that he was internally scolding himself for his own mishap.

"Yeah, it's definitely been a long day," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Soon, a sheepish grin played upon his lips.

"I'm Chase," he introduced himself, sticking out his hand. "And it appears that I lost my tag when I was hunting down hermit crabs. Pleasure to make you acquaintance, Lizzy."