Chapter 8
Lily
T hank you, Ann-Marie, for saving me from the shitshow that reunion would have been. Turning around to look at her, I'm hit with an onslaught of emotions. Her smile was so wide, her eyes twinkled, and that white dress was a tear jerker. I couldn't hold them back as they poured down my face. She's happy, and I'm happy for her. My biases aside, I couldn't wait to embrace her, and I did as soon as I got close to her.
It would kill me if she were robbed of this light in her eyes. I hoped her soon-to-be husband wouldn't fuck this up. I hadn't even taken the time to learn his name; he hadn't been important to me. But he was now. The moment she took his name, he would be, because she's entrusting her life in his hands.
"You look beautiful." I smiled through the tears, taking care with her long, bouncing, brown curl that fell over the curve of her voluptuous breasts in a beaded strapless bodice.
"Stop. Don't make me cry." She raised her eyes to the clear-blue sky and pristine white cloud fluff. "I don't want to ruin my makeup."
"You deserve this, Ann." I choked up. "To be happy."
"Ah, bitch. Here I go. And I haven't even taken my pictures yet." She sniffled.
Reaching into my clutch, I pulled out a tissue and dabbed at the tears. "I love you so much."
"I love you too, girl. Now, stop with all the mushy stuff and let's take some pics before my makeup melts off my face." She pulled my hand. Her joy was infectious, and I grinned.
The photographer's smile was blinding, and my heart skipped a beat. Well, hello, handsome.
"I think someone's a bit smitten at first glance." Ann-Marie nudged me.
"Huh?" I looked around, thinking she spotted me drooling.
"He can't take his eyes off you. His tongue is damn-near hanging out of his mouth. Looks like you might walk away with a husband as well today," she teased.
"Ha. Very funny. The day I accept someone's proposal, take me to the doctor to get my head checked, will you? But he is kinda sexy," I whispered. "He looks like he could be a night of fun."
And a distraction from Eric, whose eyes I still felt burning holes in me. When you can tell someone's looking at you, all you want to do is look back, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. He left my life as if I were nothing. Now, he's nothing to me.
Milking the attention from the sexy photographer, I flashed my brightest smile. My mom's being looked after at the Women's Shelter for today. Since both Ann-Marie and I are involved there, they had no problem assigning someone to care for her today, so that I could attend Ann's wedding. It's not the first time that they're chipping in.
Whenever there's an emergency, I'm always welcome to drop her off, but since resources are limited, it wouldn'To be fair to leave her there full time when much of those resources can be used on women with nowhere else to go. I'll admit, it's nice to have a break though, knowing she's in good hands. It also means I have at least an hour to spare after the wedding. So, here's to hoping I get lucky with the hot photographer tonight.
See, in doses, I can tolerate a man. If I'm lucky, it'll be an hour of hot fun, and I'll never have to see his ass again. The benefits of being a single woman in need of nothing from a man. An hour romp sounds fun, but I don't need it. I didn't need anything from my scumbag father or my janky-ass brother. I didn't need anything from low-life Marco. And I definitely don't need shit from deceitful Eric.
Ryan
"Okay, guys. Let's get a few more shots," I yelled, after glancing through the photos and finding that most of the pictures were centered around the woman in the purple dress and not the bride. That wouldn't get me paid. But the camera loved her. How could it not? She took center stage in my eyes. She flirted with it like a natural, and there were moments I thought she might be flirting with me.
A few weeks ago, I was talking about getting laid, and it seemed like my wishes might be granted, if she's down. Looks like she might be, by the way she smiled at me, even when I'm not taking pictures. Or how our eyes seemed to find each other when I looked up from my camera. I don't make a habit of hooking up with someone in every place I visit. I know, I'm only twenty-seven. I'm young and free. The world is my oyster. All that shit. It sounds like a guy like me would take advantage of his options.
But I'm particular. Hooking up with someone has to be worth it for me. I have to like that person. What am I talking about? I don't even know her. But my camera captures the truth, and there's something about her hazel eyes that tells me she'll be the exact kind of trouble a guy like me needs. Whether it's for one night or more. There's a stirring in my loins, and I'm magnetized to her. My pulse races without logic. What is it about the bride's friend that's held me captive?
Clearing my throat, I did my damndest to be professional and capture the bride's moment, all the while aware of every bit of the stranger in the purple dress.