With her rag, Elodie gestured for him to come over. “Levi. What’s up, kiddo?”
“The knobs on the cabinets are swapped out,” he said, then turned his attention to me. His expression softened just slightly. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, smiling. It was still strange to see Elodie in a mother’s role, but it suited her perfectly. “Your timing is perfect, actually. Have you ever done any modeling?”
“What?” He looked wary, and an embarrassed chuckle escaped. “Are you serious?”
“Possibly,” I admitted.
He sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, then shrugged. “I guess I would consider it.”
Elodie snorted. “Believe it or not, that’s his enthusiastic face.”
Levi shot her a playful look before moving toward the barn door. I laughed again and let the heady excitement of a plan coming together flow through me.
Elodie turned back to me, all business now. “Okay. Date. How soon?”
“As soon as I can get a team,” I said. “Photographer, makeup, maybe someone to help with the video. I can model the bridal looks myself if I need to, but I’d rather bring in one other model so it doesn’t feel like a solo show. Levi’s a little young, so I’ll keep my eyes out.”
Elodie nodded, already tracking. “And you’ll need indoor shots, too, in case the weather turns.”
“Exactly. That’s why this is perfect,” I said, looking around the newly renovated farm-to-table restaurant. “It gives me options.”
She leaned in, lowering her voice like we were conspiring. “If you can get some extra lifestyle shots while you’re at it—maybe Levi and his friends by the firepit, hot cocoa, the restaurant space when it’s done—I’ll buy a package. We need content for socials and website stuff. The more professional, the better.”
Momentum slid into my chest, warm and steady.
Income. A plan. Something all mine.
Pride prickled at the back of my eyes, and I blinked it away, because I refused to cry in a barn like in a sappy movie.
“That would ... help a lot,” I admitted.
Elodie’s gaze softened. “Then it’s done.”
Levi, still hovering nearby, shifted the box in his arms and arched a brow. “Does being in a photo shoot mean I’m getting paid?”
“No,” Elodie and I said in unison.
He scoffed instantly and headed out the door as we chuckled. I smiled and leaned in. “Of course he’ll be paid.”
I pulled my phone back out, already opening a calendar, already making lists. The world narrowed down into controllable pieces again—dates and people and deliverables.
It was a version of myself I barely recognized. A version I was falling for.