Free Fostering Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 1) by Victoria Johns Page B

dragging my equipment near water and rocks.  Also from a purely selfish perspective, my equipment is expensive and I’d be pissed if I was rushing to get a shot and it got wet or damaged.  I’ve told Tommy I will work around him and he’ll get paid for the day, so he’s going to let me know which day is best for him.  Once he does this I can drop a quick text to Chris to let him know which day I’ll be using his land for access.
    As I’m about to make my last call, which is to the magazine, my house phone rings and the brilliance of caller ID tells me it’s the Griggs house and at this time of day it’s more than likely Barbara.
    “Hey, Hello.”
    “Dolly dear, dinner tonight at ours,” she sends back at me.  I’ve got nothing else on and know that anything Barbara cooks will be better than what I can rustle up for just me.
    “That’s cool, will the twins be around? I may need to let them know that I might be using some shots of them that I took at the last football game because I’ve got the possibility of selling them to a glossy editorial magazine.”  I’m pleased and excited to share this news and I want her to be too.
    “Yes, they’ll be here.” Lord, she’s being brief today, or do I mean short?
    “OK, what time shall I be with you for?”
    “5pm please, dinner will be on the table at 5.15pm. Sharp.”  Sharp, you’re not kidding.
    “Sure, see you later Barbara.”  It’s weird, but then she is usually doing lots of things at once, she’s probably just pre-occupied and already thinking about the next three things on the list of stuff she has to do.
    Finally I call the magazine by dialing the number that I put in the phone reminder.
    “Mig Smithson.”  Oh he sounds....hot .  He’s answered his phone saying just two words and he sounds hot.  His voice is strong and anyone who can answer the phone just using their name in that manner is someone who is sure of themselves. 
    “Hi, it’s Dalton Frobisher, you left me a voicemail about using some of my shots in a piece you’re doing, I think it was ‘A year in football’, I’m the photographer.”
    “Hello, Mrs Frobisher.”
    “Dolly, please call me Dolly and its Miss.”  I definitely have to put him straight on that point.
    “OK Dolly, yes we are very interested.  I’m compiling the piece, we had a background researcher at the game where you were taking shots and he picked up your card at the office.  We’re particularly interested because he saw that you were allowed pitch side and took a series of shots during the pre-game preparations with the team and coach.”
    “I did.  I’m friendly with the team coach and a couple of the squad.”  Well, shit, that sounds terrible.  I play that sentence back in my head and once again I’m reminded of the ugly spit roast argument with Tits.  I’ve just made it sound like I know them all in a very different way.  “That is the coach is an old school friend and two of the players are my brothers.”  Mig starts to laugh; he knows what I’m up to.
    “Well Dolly, for a minute there you were sounding all kinds of interesting.” Oh, that hot voice sounds even better when he is using it to flirt and it sounds divine when he is using it to flirt with me.
    “There really is no kind of comeback to that.”  I say with a hint of Dolly flirt, a bit of a laugh and an open ended silence.  The ball is in his court; I want to see if he goes for the friendly flirt or if he goes back to being professional, after all this a works call.
    “I tell you what Dolly, I’m on assignment at the moment in Eaglesbridge, my intern tells me that it’s a couple of towns over from Hawkstown.  We could meet tomorrow evening and have a working dinner?  That’s if you don’t mind bringing your laptop and showing me your work and the roll of shots you took over a plate of food?”  Clever, he’s combined the two and hedged his bets, if I’m not interested he can fall back to work chat, but