Russell played with Nutcase a little, finished his beer, and idly flipped through the album in the failing light of the day. Perry was right. New York would eat it up. He’d send it to Arnie and she’d have it sitting next to every bookstore cash register in the country by Christmas.
At the second to last page, there was the photo of Nutcase sleeping on his chest. He could have sworn he’d put that one at the end. He turned to the final page.
There she was. Cassidy, in that incredible evening gown with the boat and the city a soft backdrop, and Nutcase curled up in her arms. The look on her face still blew him away. He thought he’d photographed love before, but it was as if he’d only photographed the word itself and here was the true emotion. There was love, humor, passion, and, something i
