King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

My phone was going crazy but I left it tucked into my pocket. If it were my brothers, I couldn’t trust that they weren’t trying to lure me into Grams’s web just to be dicks. If it was my dad, I’d rather continue avoiding him and the insinuations that I’d been freeloading all over the world for the last ten years.

It didn’t help that Dad was kinda right, but I was also trying to make my mark. As it was, people only listened to me when they realized who my father was. Even then, they didn’t listen for long. Big Oil meant evil in most of the circles I tried to sell my work.

I’d started using a pseudonym, but that was like starting over. My middle name and Mama’s maiden name didn’t open doors like my real name, but it didn’t get those doors slammed in my face as often as my real name did.

My phone finally went silent. My family should be used to my voicemail. I changed the aperture on my camera and refocused.

“You think that’s funny?” A voice as smooth as warm brandy washed over me. I didn’t look at the speaker. I didn’t have to—my mind filled in the pieces. A strong woman. Formidable. Determined and gorgeous. Dad had always said I was half in a fantasy world, and I was willing to stay there a little longer and listen to the mystery woman talk.

I lowered my camera and scanned the group. They were moving farther away and taking my inspiration with them. Would I ever get it back? “What do I think is funny?”

“Young people trying to make the world a better place. Take your hack fluff piece and go find a real story.”

Hack fluff piece. She thought I was a journalist? The irony was, I hadn’t made the jump to legitimate professional, but she was upset thinking I was someone I tried hard to be. Mystery Woman took me more seriously than my own family did.

I kept my gaze forward, my camera loose in my hands, and remained squatting, enjoying the hostility in her tone. I shouldn’t egg her on, but I couldn’t help it. “I’d have to figure out how they were helping the world before I had any material for an article.”

“They obviously care about the earth.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re helping it.”

She sputtered and I chuckled.

“Relax. My camera is a judgment-free zone. They made me want to take a picture, so here I am, taking a picture.”

“You aren’t a journalist?”

“Photojournalist.”

“But you aren’t doing a piece on them?”

“If I were, I’d have to interview them first. They could be a bachelorette party for all I know. I’m mostly interested in how their energy makes me feel, not how much alcohol they’ve had.” I released my camera to hang from its strap around my neck and finally looked up.

Damn. The voice hadn’t prepared me for the face. Glittering, deep blue eyes flared wide when our gazes met. Her golden-blond hair hung over one shoulder, catching the glow of the neon light, giving her a soft halo that was at odds with her sharp suit and heels.

I rose, using the movement to look her over. She was too fine to look away. Her posture went from rigid to unsure. She kept her arms crossed but stepped back. I tensed with the desire to close the distance. Something about this woman told me that I wouldn’t come across another like her, and I wanted to make the moment last. But I towered over her a few inches. I refused to intimidate her by crowding her.

She glanced at the tourists. One of them was blowing kisses to everyone who passed and telling them to treat the earth as if it were as precious as their iPhone. “So, you’re not making fun of them?”

“No. I happened to be in the area and had my camera. Do you know who they are?” I’d ask if she was with them, but her outfit was the opposite of theirs. I could picture it though. This woman with bare feet, traipsing in and around people, her long hair free and streaming behind her.

I had a good imagination. Besides her hair, she was dressed for power, not saving the environment.

“No. But I like their vibe and I know it’s one a lot of people make fun of.” Her gaze flicked around. Other than the tourists wandering farther away, she and I were alone on the sidewalk.

I took the camera from around my neck and flicked a few buttons, pulling one of my photos up on the display. It was okay for an on-the-go picture, but not one of my best. I didn’t know what my best was anymore.

If I’d finished my degree, maybe I’d have more insight instead of just guessing.

If I’d finished college, maybe I’d have a job that’d allow me to upgrade my equipment.

The woman’s stunning blue eyes turned molten when she viewed the picture. The way I adjusted the shutter speed made the lights twinkle, casting a surreal glow onto the crowd. They looked like wood nymphs trying to heal Sin City.

Those lush pink lips of hers parted. “That’s really good.”

“Glad you think so.” I’d like to be more enthused, but all I could see was how much the final image fell short of my vision. I needed a better camera, but that wouldn’t happen for a long time.

She looked up from the display. “Who do you work for?”

“I freelance, but not a lot of people are looking to do features on the denizens of Las Vegas.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Maybe they’d find Hollywood tourists more interesting?”

I chuckled. How unexpected. She’d been ready to rip me a new one, but she’d taken the change of tone in stride. “I could try it the next time I swing through California.”

Except I was itching to leave the country again. I’d used some of my dwindling funds to come back for my brother’s anniversary