Page 6 of For the Cameras
Holy shit. So Adam Dix—AdamRichardsen—was a super-smart fucking nerd brainiac in real life.
Why the hell did he need any amount of money from uploading his OnlyShots videos?
He cleared his throat. “Ah, basically, I do the math part for doctors who study the human brain.”
“Wow,” Nathan said. “We’re in the presence of genius. Hell, when my teenage daughter’s having trouble with her math homework, I’ll know who to ask for help.”
Adam smiled, the sheepish side of him coming back in full force. “The math I do isn’t as complex as it sounds. Well, maybe a little, when it comes to the regressions and the statistical modeling, but in general, it’s a lot of standard data crunching.”
Sure as shit sounded more lucrative than solo jerk-off videos.
All week, the construction crew and camera crew had been talking about our new home renovation client, Adam Richardsen. The name had gone in one ear and out the other. I was a camera guy for a TV show, not a producer or director; I showed up, set up cameras, and got perfect shots. It wasn’t my job to know whose house we were filming in. It wouldn’t have given me proper warning anyway, because his real last name wasn’tDix.
And now I was in his kitchen. It felt like a time capsule from the 60s, other than a few new appliances. I remembered one ofthe Fixer Brothers guys saying that Adam wanted a renovation that kept the same 60s-style spirit alive in the kitchen, while updating some completely worn-out features. The retro vibe in here was great, even if it did need some updating.
And then there was Adam himself.
The nice, shy, cute nerd next door. Who I’d happened to have come thinking about, many, many times.
Adam glanced over at me as Shawn and Nathan got pulled into a conversation with Flynn. I watched him for a moment, still marveling that he was a real, live human being, right there in front of me. He was wearing a simple light grey long-sleeve, fitted jeans, and a pair of glasses that I’d never have known he wore. In some videos, he showed the back of his head, and I was used to seeing his black hair all fucked up and going in a million directions as he moved around in bed. Today it was neatly positioned and combed into a perfect swoop.
“I’m impressed, Adam,” I told him. “Your job sounds important.”
“I like numbers,” he said. “It’s not as challenging as it sounds. More relaxing, for me, honestly.”
“Very cool.” I turned on the camera I’d just set up, making sure the lens was properly in place and framing the kitchen.
“So, ah, how about you?” he asked me. “Have you always been a camera guy?”
Watching Adam try to make small talk was rapidly becoming one of my favorite things. I could tell that he was struggling to figure out what to say, but the fact that he kept trying so hard to chat with me was adorable.
“I’ve always been into filming things,” I told him. “And really any kind of art. I didn’t think I’d end up on a home renovation show, that’s for sure.”
“What did you think you’d be doing instead?”
“I always thought I’d end up making art films, indie movies. Maybe even music videos,” I told him. “I’m an art school dropout. But I happened to know my way around a good camera, so when I interviewed for this film crew, they took a chance on me. I fucking love my job now, no matter how long the hours are.”
“Crunching math seems a lot easier to me than what you do,” he said, giving me a little smile.
“It’s unlike anything I’ve done before,” I said. “Before-and-after shots are fun to frame. Demolition day is always a blast, when I get to film the Fixer Brothers taking a sledgehammer to cabinets and drywall. It’s like capturing controlled destruction.”
“It’s always my favorite part to watch on TV, too,” he said.
“I really do love seeing clients’ faces when their renovated spaces are finally revealed, too,” I said. “And the in-between footage. You’ve seen the show, so you know it focuses just as much on the guys’ lives as it does on the renovation projects. These guys are like true friends to me at this point.
“So you’re a talented artist, and you’re great with people,” he said. “Pretty much the opposite of me.”
“I think you’re better with people than you realize, Adam,” I told him. “I’ve been loving talking to you this morning.”
The blush appeared on his cheeks again and I couldn’t help but get some satisfaction out of it.
I moved back to the kitchen counter, glancing over a stack of papers near the edge.
“Oh. Sorry,” Adam said. “I meant to move those.”
On the top of the pile was the Jade River Town Weekly, the short newspaper that our tiny mountain town published and sent out every week. In the small section that listed the movies showing in the local theater, Adam had circled the showtime forAlien.
“Do you like that movie?” I asked him.