Page 31 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
Good lord, that cake has a lot going on.
“I haven’t even tasted it and I’m pretty sure that’s the cake,” Liza says.
“Well, okay then. It looks like we’ve got a cake,” Hunter agrees, not having yet tried it either. Apparently what Liza says goes.
Click.
“Do you want to try it first?” I ask Hunter.
“Of course, my queen.”
I push mine directly to Matthew, who immediately digs in, taking over half the piece in his first bite alone.
He moans the minute it’s in his mouth. Something stirs in my nether regions; I shift slightly in my chair and clench my thighs. My reaction is ridiculous. Especially considering the man is not remotely attractive and I’m marrying Hunter soon.
Just ’cause you’re married don’t mean you’re dead.
Crystal’s voice rolls through my conscience. She’d make an excuse for about anything I did or do. Besides, it has yet to be determined whether being married again will be like being dead.
8
Pax
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: wedding photographers have it made. Cake tastings are the best. And we always get fed the day of the wedding too. I’m perfectly capable, financially and otherwise, of feeding myself. But there is something about this wedding, knowing that Tabs and the Simpleton are unknowingly footing the bill, that is darkly satisfying.
I take a moment to scroll through the pics I’ve taken thus far. The cakes look amazing. Tabby, not so much. In most photos, her eyes are half-shut or her mouth is half-open. It takes real skill to consistently capture a person at the worst possible time. I have to make sure to get a couple that are flattering, otherwise I’m sure I’ll find myself without a job soon.
“May I see?” Tabatha leans close to me, trying to see the digital screen on the back of my camera.
“Uh. Uh. Uh.” I waggle my finger at her. “No peeking.”
“But they’re my pictures,” she protests.
“Actually, they’remypictures until I sell them to you.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Well, I know there are some that caught me off guard and I want to make sure they are deleted.”
“Oh, they will be,” I assure her. “It would do me no good to have undesirable pictures of my clients.”
She sits back in her chair, seemingly relieved. I grab a few shots of Hunter and Liza deep in discussion. They seem to have left Tabatha completely out of the discussion and planning. But as near as I can tell, she doesn’t care.
“I will tell you this.” I turn to face Tabatha, a reluctant grimace on my face. “There could definitely bebetterpictures of you.”
Her lips press together, and she breathes in and out through her nose, nodding slowly. “That is why I asked you to wait until I was ready before taking the picture.”
“But then they wouldn’t be candid.”
“A posed shot can still look candid,” she hisses.
“Maybe,” I say. “But it wouldn’t be very professional of me to fake it.”
She seethes.
I snap a photo. It is most unbecoming.
“Delete that immediately.” Her voice is low and hard.
“No can do.” I shrug. “I never edit during the shoot.”
