This was not the first time Jeanette McCarthy had flown her DJI Spark Quadcopter over Clint Harroway’s private Miami beach. It was an accident, really, a big misunderstanding.
See, Jeanette had been working three jobs to afford her very own Quadcopter. It was precisely the kind of equipment that would allow her to take her photography business to the next level.
She quit her third job at the ice cream parlor (no more screaming children begging for more ice cream) the second she got the paycheck that would pay off the drone she had been dreaming of for months. She drove immediately to Best Buy, purchased her brand new drone Quadcopter and drove immediately to the beach.
It was late in the afternoon on a warm Spring night in April, and all Jeanette wanted to do was capture the colors of the sunset. She knew the owner’s manual by heart, reading it on the DJI website every free second she had.
The sun was just beginning to set as Jeanette steered the drone high above the waves that crashed softly on the pristine sand beneath them. She took her first photo with the drone of the sun sending golden rays of light shooting across the clear blue water. She smiled to herself, allowing the feeling of glee to wash over her. This was just the break her business needed.
“Now let’s see what else we can find!” She announces aloud, pausing for a moment to see if anyone was in earshot.
She pushed the drone higher, looking for any scenery that might captivate a viewer’s attention.
“We’re talking art gallery-worthy.” She announced again, caring less this time about anyone who might be walking past.
That’s when her drone spotted Clint Harroway’s private beach home. Not that she knew at the moment that the home belonged to Clint Harroway. Of course, she had no way of knowing that. All she could see was the sun setting in front of an elegant modern home, the majority of which was made of large glass windows, reflecting the gold, pink and deep blue of the sunset it faced every night.
The image on her screen took her breath away. She couldn’t wait to see the printed photo- if the drone held steady enough, she might be able to submit that one.
She was simply analyzing the angles of the house, looking for more opportunities to capture the sunset in its dazzling architecture, when the most stunning man she had ever seen walked out the back door in nothing but a towel. Embarrassed, as if she had just walked in on him herself, she hightailed the drone out of there, accidentally taking a photo as she fiddled with the buttons and controls to convince the drone to find her faster.
Sitting in her apartment only one hour later, analyzing the ripped contours of the man’s abdomen, the impeccable details in his arms and chest, not to mention a full, red beard and dark, brooding eyes, there was no doubt that she was looking at Clint Harroway.
It became an addiction. At first, she tried to convince herself that she was just flying her Quadcopter over there to get another glimpse of the breathtaking sunset in his large, bay windows, but after her third visit, she knew it was all about Clint.
There was something about him though, something about the way he did yoga in his window or stretched on his deck that gave Jeanette the distinct impression that he was posing for her. She knew it seemed crazy, and yet he was always in her view when she went to visit him. Well, in the quadcopter’s view anyway. In spite of his apparent modeling, she was certain he hadn’t noticed the drone buzzing more than thirty feet above him. The sound of the waves and the harshness of the sun would prevent him from seeing the Quadcopter, Jeanette was certain of it.
Today, however, Clint was nowhere in sight, nor was he there the day after that. For more than three weeks she had captured him on camera, relying on his beauty to bring closure to her days, but now it seemed he was gone.
It was silly, obviously, to rely so heavily on a person. The idea of a person, really. He didn’t owe her anything. He didn’t even know she existed.
After the fifth day, Jeanette decided to give up and move on. She found a new section of Miami real estate to photograph, one that complimented the curves of the ocean as it carved its way along the coast. After a few days, her love affair with Clint Harroway was just a distant memory. She had more important things to worry about – like the upcoming Drone Gala.
She knew she had a leg up on the competition as her drone had one of the more high tech cameras on the market. But would her talent give her the extra edge she needed?
The only way to be sure was to submit her best work. She sat down to look at the art she had created with her new DJI Drone Quadcopter companion, scouring through the hundreds of photos she had taken with it over the past few weeks.
But one photo kept catching her eye.
The Miami Drone Gala and Charity Auction had turned into quite the spectacle. A few famous photographers had turned up; even a few celebrities who happened to live close by.
Jeanette sat in the audience as her photograph made it’s way to the front of the room, ready to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
“And now, we present to you Ocean’s Love Affair with its Reflection, a first place winner for the Landscape Photography category and second place overall.” The auctioneer announced adding, “It is quite lovely” as he displayed the photo on the easel for bidding.
“We will start the bidding at five hundred dollars, do I hear five hund-”
“Fifty thousand dollars.” A deep voice boomed from the back of the spacious theater room.
Jeanette glanced over her shoulder to see the man who had just made her photo the highest grossing photo at the gala, and her breath caught in her chest.
“Mr. Harroway, what a pleasure it is to have you with us!” The auctioneer swooned. “Uh, yes right do I hear Fifty-one thousand? Fifty thousand going once, going twice…” He paused for dramatic effect.
“Sold! To Mr. Harroway!” The auctioneer practically sang.
Jeanette, who had not taken her eyes off Clint Harroway since the bidding began, continued to stare in disbelief. People around her were congratulating her, rubbing her shoulders and trying to shake her hand, but she refused to take her eyes off Clint.
“Well, it is my house after all,” Clint said with a shrug as he returned to his seat with his new photograph, pausing only for a moment to throw Jeanette a seductive wink.