Page 17 of One More Shot
‘I don’t get it,’ I say, interrupting their latest bout of staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. ‘Why does the editor even need to approve anything? The magazine approachedyou, right?’
Bailey nods. ‘They did, but they still need to make sure the wedding fits their brand and is something their audience will connect with. Technically, we do have the final say when it comes to the big decisions, but we risk losing the feature if we do something they really don’t like. I even had to send them Eliott’s portfolio and all the engagement party photos so they could check they liked her style of photography.’
I tense slightly at the mention of Eliott’s name. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Cash’s thoughtful gaze slide over to me for a brief second before he resumes pouring his tea.
‘Did she agree to it, then?’ I ask casually. ‘Photographing the wedding, I mean.’
‘Not yet,’ Bailey says. ‘We’re just waiting on the venue to confirm our dates, and then I can book Eliott in.’
‘And what if she says no?’
Bailey looks at me like I’ve just suggested she shave off all her hair. ‘Don’t even put that out into the universe, Dane.’
I shrug, trying to keep my expression and gestures as light as possible. But it’s hard because suddenly Eliott’s voice is ringing in my ear.
‘I haven’t actually agreed to photograph the wedding. I might not even be available.’
I’d laughed it off back at the engagement party, assuming she was just posturing for my benefit. But now I’m not so sure.
‘Eliott’s actually the only thing we’ve been able to agree on with the editor,’ Bailey continues. ‘They love her style just as much as we do. She’s the one thing we don’t have to worry about right now, and I’d love for it to stay that way.’
Again, Cash glances at me from across the room. He’s leaning against the countertop, quietly sipping his tea, watching me curiously.
Contemplatively.
I avoid his pointed stare and clear my throat, eager to shift the conversation towards something a little more light-hearted and far, far away from me potentially ruining my sister’s wedding before it’s even started. ‘Since we’re on wedding talk… Do I get a plus one?’
‘Who do you want to bring?’ Bailey asks absentmindedly, most of her concentration already back on her laptop screen. ‘Hazel? I liked her.’
I frown. ‘Hazel?’
Bailey looks up, one brow arched in disbelief. ‘Hazel. Your girlfriend? Or latest one, anyway. We went on that double date with you two to Winter Wonderland just before Christmas.’
Something clicks in my mind. ‘Oh.’
‘Oh?’
I give her a sheepish grin. ‘First off, Hazel wasn’t my girlfriend—’
‘Did she know that?’
‘And secondly,’ I say, a little louder this time to combat the sarcasm dripping off her every word, ‘we’re not together anymore. Didn’t work out.’
I say that, but it did. It worked exactly like it was supposed to. A few weeks of fun before things fizzled out and we went our separate ways. No hard feelings, no heartbreak. Just two adults who knew exactly what they wanted from each other and didn’t ask for anything more. But if you say that to people, they start to look at you strangely. Like everyone’s supposed to want what Cash and Bailey have, and like I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with anything less.
Bailey’s on the verge of saying something similar. She’s got this look in her eyes that’s halfway between pity and exasperation, and I have no desire to sit here and listen to another well-meaning, but no less annoying, lecture about my love life. I push away from the counter, making a point to cause the stool legs to scrape loudly against the floor. ‘Weshould get going.’ I glance over at Cash. ‘Don’t want to be late.’
We’ve got a job over on the outskirts of the city and it’ll likely take us at least an hour to get there, even without the threat of rush-hour traffic.
Cash nods, seemingly satisfied with my sudden excuse to leave. He doesn’t say a word until it’s the two of us in the van together. As soon as he slides into the passenger seat, he turns to me and raises an unimpressed brow. ‘Eliott’s not going to take the job, is she?’
Straight to the point.
Usually that’s something I admire about Cash, but right now it’s just annoying.
I scowl at my reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘How am I supposed to know?’
‘Dane.’
