Brothers of Paradise Series

“Yes?” our guide calls back, standing to the side with a book in her hand.

“Is this how most of the guests go on safari?”

Joy laughs. “This has to be a first.”

Ivy looks down at her pants. “White has to be the most commonly worn color, too, when in nature.”

I snort. “That’s on the agency, not on me.”

“Oh, absolutely. The same agency that thought it was important I wore a push-up bra for this.” Ivy leans back on both of her elbows and arches her back, her hair spilling down. She might be joking around, but this is a great shot. I grab it, the Jeep in the foreground, the wide-open savannah in the background. Perhaps I’ll be able to edit the horde of elephants into the back…

Ivy turns to look straight at me. “Should I act more like a wildebeest?”

I’m grinning now. “No.”

“You sure? Perhaps a giraffe, then?” She makes a show of sticking her head up high, as high as she can, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

I put my camera down. “You’re jet-lagged.”

“Yes. I don’t know what time it is. Not a clue.” She looks up at the sky and closes her eyes, and I take a picture of that too, because… Ivy. “But I’m in a place I’ve always wanted to see and that’s enough, even if I want to see lions and not sit on a Jeep. But then again, you want to photograph said lions and not me, so perhaps we’re even.”

“You’ll do,” I say, grinning. “The Jeep’s not comfortable?”

She puts a hand down on the metal. “Oh, this is the comfortablest Jeep hood there ever was.”

I roll my eyes. “Get off there, you idiot.”

She jumps off and puts a hand to her forehead, like the clown she’s acting. It’s a far cry from the determined, fierce model I’d seen on the beach in St. Barts, despite her dedication for the rest of the shoot. She poses next to the Jeep, under a gigantic tree, walking through the bush. I grab a beautiful picture of her standing in the Jeep, watching the landscape through a pair of binoculars.

I film us driving through the landscape. My drone is a whirl above the Jeep, and I’m so focused on getting all the material I need that I barely notice when Ivy sits down next to me in the car.

“You okay over there?”

“Yes,” I say, my eyes on the camera. The drone is capturing the surrounding landscape. I need to get the lodge, too… perhaps in the morning?

“I was thinking,” she says, “that we can shoot on the balcony too. In our house? Same as we did in Paris.”

“Good idea.”

“You two work so well together,” Joy comments from the driver’s seat. “I always thought it would be difficult to work with your partner, but you have proved me wrong. Me? I could never work together with my husband.” She laughs at that. “I’d demand a divorce by noon!”

My thumb stops flicking through images I’ve taken.

Perhaps it’s the devil on my shoulder, or the way Ivy had laughed on that Jeep, but I want to mess with her. See how far I can push. “It’s surprised us too,” I tell Joy. “We had the same fear. Didn’t we, Ives?”

Her smile is locked in place, but the look she shoots me is deadly. “Sure did, honey.”

I give her a wide smile back.

“Well, the two of you make a beautiful couple,” Joy says, pulling onto the dusty road leading to the Rieler resort. “I should be the one photographing the two of you!”

“So we’re a couple?”

I bite my tongue to keep from grinning, grateful that the camera is shielding my face. Ivy reclines against the terrace railing, the sunset behind her draping the Kenyan landscape in a golden hue. “I couldn’t help myself.”All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

“Thought you didn’t like lying.”

“I make exceptions for comedy.”

She reaches up to notch a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “Well, that’s good to know.”

“Something to bear in mind?”

“Exactly.” She smiles at me, looking straight at the camera. And there’s not a trace of disapproval or dislike on her features. I snap a shot of her like that, looking at me, rather than posing for the camera.

“That’s it,” I say. “I think we’ve got all the shots we need out here.”

“Awesome.”

“I’ll just get some of the landscape.”

“That means I can finally remove my face,” she says, heading into the lodge.

“Your face?”

“The makeup!” she calls back.

Shaking my head, I set about capturing the landscape. It’s not long until I have everything I need, which is good, because the sun doesn’t stay. It’s dark when I pull the door to the balcony door firmly shut behind me. With the AC on and the onslaught of insects outdoors, we want to keep one in and the other out.

I head to my suitcase. “I’ll grab the sofa.”

“If you insist,” Ivy responds. She’s taken a cross-legged seat on the sofa in question, her hair in a low ponytail. “But it’s not that late yet?”

“Aren’t you exhausted?”

“My crazy little jet-lag episode is over.”

“It was very amusing, so I didn’t mind.” I sit down on the opposite side of the couch, my eyes roving the shelves. Is there a minibar somewhere here?

“I can imagine,” she says, turning something over in her hands. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I bought this at the airport in Paris before we left.”

“What is it?”

“Cards. Just some simple, effective fun.” Ivy shrugs, looking at me. “But perhaps it’s too mundane for you.”

I snort, holding out my hand. She gives me the deck. “I’ll play.”

“Awesome.” She’s removed her makeup, and I’m struck with the desire to take a picture of her right here, right now. Sitting cross-legged and relaxed, with her face bare.