"Hey, Mike. What do you think of the lighting here? Should we bring in another spotlight?" The man in the light-colored suit turned to the man setting up the camera equipment.

The man stopped moving items around and glanced at the setup for the photo shoot. His eyes were barely visible beneath the baseball cap riding low over his forehead.

"Uh, no. I think we'll be fine. We still have a lot of daylight. Natural light's always best."

The man in the suit nodded. "Okay. I guess you know what you're doing. Let me get the cast over here so that we can start."

A group of five people from the local TV station ambled into the room. The man in the suit gave them instructions and moved them around as their pictures were snapped. The station wanted new promo shots of their news team for their revamped look. The shoot would take several hours.

During one of the breaks, a young female newscaster was looking at the pictures on a screen set up for viewing. Her eyes kept turning toward the photographer as he scrolled through various pictures, editing some of the shots.

"These are really good," she said trying to make conversation.

"Thank you," the man said softly without looking in her direction.

She pretended to look at the photos on the screen. What she really wanted was to get a better look at him. She could only see a few wisps of blond hair from beneath the edges of his baseball cap. He kept most of his face covered, either with his cap or with his camera, but what little she could see of him made an impression on her. She knew that some of the other women from the team had commented on how handsome the photographer was, but he had rebuffed all of their attempts at talk and mild flirtation.

"Um, a bunch of us are going to Tilly's Tavern after we're done here," the young woman said without looking up. "You're certainly welcome to join us. That is, if you don't have any plans."

The young man stopped scrolling through the shots but didn't look up. The young woman wondered if he'd heard her or if he was considering her invitation. It seemed that he was frozen, so she tried again.

"I would really like for you to come along. It'll be fun. What do you say?" This time she looked at him, trying to catch his eye. "I would love to talk to you some more."

He glanced at her briefly before looking down again. "I think we need to get back to work." He grabbed one of the cameras and hurried away.

The young woman stared after him. He was definitely more handsome than she originally thought. She wondered why he seemed so shy. A guy with half his looks would have been flaunting himself and flirting with every girl in the studio. She hadn't seen a ring on his finger, but maybe he had someone. He probably did. She sighed. At least he was loyal. Not too many men nowadays would be so considerate of their partner.

After most of the people had filed out of the room, the photographer began to gather up his equipment. As he reached for the backdrop, a voice startled him.

"Hey."

He fumbled with the backdrop, and it fell on the floor noisily.

"Oh, I'm sorry." One of the senior female newscasters smiled and reached for the fallen prop, brushing her hand against his. "I didn't mean to scare you. Lisa told me that she invited you for drinks with the group, but that you declined. She was pretty bummed out."

The man pulled the muslin off the stand and began to fold it quickly and efficiently. "I'm sorry about that. I don't go out much." He snapped the stand's legs shut and stuffed it into a large bag. He was hoping that she wouldn't keep talking to him. He tried not to look her in the face as he rapidly put away the items.

"My name's Carolyn," she said with a smile. "Good evening, I am Carolyn Cosby, and this is your nightly news."

He nodded. "Yes. I know."

She took a small step closer. "If you don't like crowds, we can go somewhere else. My place is not too far from here. I'm a great cook...among other things." She leaned closer. "We can even call Lisa, if that's what you'd like. I don't mind."

He finished packing his equipment and tugged his cap lower on his forehead. "Nothing against you or your colleague, but I really need to get home."

"Oh. Of course. Wife? Girlfriend?"

"Yes," he replied and walked away, rolling his baggage behind him—both real and emotional.

"Hm." The pretty newswoman looked after him. Lisa was right. This one was quite the mystery. The portion of his face that was visible was visually striking, but he definitely did not want to be seen. There must be a story there, she thought, and she wanted to find out. She saw that he had left an invoice on the table. She picked it up.

"Mike Joskin," she said to herself. "I wonder what you are running from, Mr. Joskin."