Page 50 of A Way Out
“Infuriating man,” she muttered, the anger flaring and snuffing out the sadness, at least for the moment.
Good. She clung to the anger. It was easier to manage.
Picking up her phone, she checked Demigoddess Revival’s social sites. Responded to a few comments. Added a few more teasers. Checked her email—she’d created a Gmail account specifically for the band—and responded to an inquiry from the Iowa State Fair. They wouldn’t get paid for the show, but the exposure would be worth the expense.
She wished she’d thought to bring her laptop; she was writing everything down in a notebook at the moment and would have to transfer all her notes once they returned to LA.
Demigoddess Revival now had six new dates scheduled. All resulting from that single post with the guys in the band facing away from the camera. Several other bands had copied the idea, tagged Demigoddess Revival or Panic Station, and asked whose backside was best.
The fans were eating it up.
For the record, Oz was still in the lead.
There was also a new post going viral. Some fan had taken the butt shot, spliced in professional shots of both bands, and demanded to know when they were going on tour together. The post had thousands of likes and hundreds of comments already.
Maria added encouraging comments to the post to keep the momentum going. Who knew she was such a good publicist?
She certainly hadn’t.
With a sigh, because damn it, this should be a perfect weekend, she darkened her phone screen and headed downstairs to join the others.
The entire wedding was being held here at the lodge. The ceremony was to take place out on the lower deck; Holly—and Lacey, once they finally told her—would walk through the living area with Lacey’s father escorting them, through the sliding glass doors, out onto the deck, where everyone else would be waiting. Sam and Parker would be standing at the far end, along with the local officiant they’d booked.
When the ceremony was over, the brides and grooms would go off with the photographer for pictures, while the rest of the guests were to head upstairs to the second-level deck for drinks and appetizers.
After all the standard fare—toasts, cake cutting, a first dance—the members of Demigoddess Revival were supposed to slip away to their rooms to change into stage outfits, and then they were playing a full set as their wedding gift to Holly and Sam.
Maria planned to video the mini concert and upload it to the band’s YouTube channel. More publicity. That was the name of the game.
All of that was to occur tomorrow evening. Tonight, there was to be a walk-through of the ceremony, followed by dinner, where the various friends would toast one another and go on and on about how wonderful everything was.
She could see through the wall of windows that most of the other temporary residents of this lodge were already outside on the deck. Someone had set up a self-serve bar on the kitchen island. Maria headed over and poured herself a glass of rosé before making her way outside.
Riley rushed up and hugged her knees. She clutched a basket with ribbon streamers wrapped around the handle. “Tomorrow it will be filled with rose petals!” Her daughter held up the basket for her inspection.
“You are going to be the most perfect flower girl, but only if you follow instructions,” Maria reminded her.
Riley nodded solemnly. “Where’s Oz?”
Maria decided not to delve too deeply into the reasons her own daughter would assume she knew where Oz was at any given time. “He’s upstairs taking a shower. He’ll be down shortly, honey.”
The wedding planner was trying to corral everyone, move them into their respective positions so they could get the rehearsal underway. Maria wandered about, taking candidate shots here and there, always thinking about what would look good on the band’s social media sites.
She didn’t miss it when Oz came downstairs, dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a striped, button-down shirt, although she did her damndest to pretend like she hadn’t noticed.
“Hang on a minute,” Parker suddenly called out, striding toward the wedding planner, who was struggling to bite back her grin.
Maria’s gaze swept the room, checking on Lacey’s whereabouts so she could move into position to snap the best pictures. The photographer also had been apprised of the change in plans and was appropriately prepared; however, Maria had no idea how quickly the woman would be able to make the professional shots available, and she wanted to be sure to post a few pics of this weekend’s festivities just prior to the concert on Sunday.
Actually, she was going to talk to the photographer to see if she could get them at least a few shots before Sunday afternoon, because they would make a fabulous montage on the screen behind the band while they played their rock ballad, “Why Can’t We Be.” Maria had learned during the fast and furious organizing of this new plan that Parker had written that song about Lacey and him when he thought there was no way they could ever be a couple.
How perfect would it be to show pictures from their impromptu wedding while they were on stage, singing a duet about the hardships they endured to get to this point?
It was romantic, of course, but to be honest, Maria was looking at it from a marketing standpoint. This was gold—and no doubt the soaring song downloads afterward would attest to that belief.
“Can I borrow that for a minute?” Parker asked the wedding planner, who handed over her microphone.
“Thanks.” He turned to face his friends and bandmates. “Hey, everybody. I just want to check one thing before we get this shindig started. Sam, are you sure about this?”
