Do You Take This Man (42)
“Garrett Parker, Parker Studios. The couple likes my style, so that’s what I’ll be doing—moving around, getting the important moments from unique angles. Ones I won’t be able to capture tomorrow. Questions?”
RJ tilted her head to the side, a look I knew well, though it was usually pointed at me. “Perfect, just stay off the altar.”
“That’s not my style.” The guy adjusted his camera bag on his shoulder and looked past RJ. “I’ll stay out of your way, and other officiants are always fine with it for a rehearsal. I’m a professional.”
“Excellent. I’m a professional, too, and I’m telling you I don’t want photographers on the altar. The couple knows that, and now you do, too. Questions?”
The man heaved a labored sigh, looking at me. “I have a certain style and it involves catching moments from the altar, sometimes during the rehearsal. This is ridiculous.”
RJ straightened next to me, and I didn’t need to see her face to know the look that was coloring her pretty features.
“Let’s pause,” I said, trying to play Switzerland. “There is a second level.” I pointed to the loft space overlooking the altar. “Could you use that space instead of being on the altar? RJ, would that work?”
The guy swore under his breath, hoisting his camera bag on his shoulder again. “I’ll try it.”
“Good,” I said, stifling the urge to push the guy back, schoolyard style. “RJ?” I said, turning my head to face her, and saw her expression was twisted into a stiff, icy glare.
“As long as you stay out of my space, I’m good.” RJ didn’t meet my gaze but kept her focus on the photographer.
“Um, alright, then. Garrett, why don’t I show you how to access the loft?” I said, motioning to the inconspicuous door behind him. “RJ, can you give me a few minutes and then we can get started?”
She nodded wordlessly, still keeping her expression trained on Garrett, who sighed again and turned.
“You should have a good vantage,” I said, making small talk as we climbed the stairs to access the loft.
He grunted in response, surveying the space and looking over the railing at the altar. I wasn’t a photographer, but I knew enough about it to know this space was great. He pulled a camera from the bag and took a few test shots. “It’s fine. Part of the job is working with people like that sometimes.” His demeanor had thawed and apparently we were having a bro moment.
“RJ is good. We all have our nonnegotiables, right?”
“Of course,” he said, taking a few more shots, “but some women think theirs are special, you know?”
I ignored his question, checking my watch to give my hands something to do. RJ didn’t need me to protect her, but I wanted to speak up against this guy’s bullshit. I bit my tongue, remembering Penny’s note that, despite what looked a lot like posturing, this guy was a big deal, and having him as a good contact was important. Still, I wanted to tell him what I thought. “You ready?”
“In a minute,” he said, crouching, camera trained on where the bride and groom were laughing with some family members. “I’m just saying thanks for calming her down.”
Protectiveness. That’s what was coursing through me, even though RJ would be the first one to tell me she could fight her own battles. “I didn’t calm her down, I just offered a solution.” I crossed my arms over my chest, dropping the Switzerland from my tone. “We need to get started.”
* * *
? ? ?
THE REHEARSAL WAS going smoothly. RJ and I had found a kind of balance in who ran which part, and compared to the first wedding we worked together, it was a well-choreographed cakewalk. A lot of our time together felt like we were in sync. Sex with RJ was always incredible, but joking with her, texting with her, all of it was starting to feel important to me.
As we neared the run-through of the ceremony, the photographer crept behind RJ, camera trained on the couple. I gripped my tablet. He was quiet, and I wasn’t sure RJ even knew he was there, which made me even angrier. Dick. RJ finished going over the ring ceremony, her voice like honey in the room as she turned from bride to groom to make sure they were clear on what to do, something I noticed she always spent time on.
In that next moment, three things happened almost at the same time. The maid of honor cracked a joke and everyone laughed, Garrett swung his camera to capture the moment, and RJ turned her head as the best man responded. Garrett’s lens made contact with her face, the momentum of both of their movements resulting in a crash. RJ’s sudden jerk made me think it probably hurt, but then the guy didn’t move right away, just nudged forward and snapped a few shots before stepping back. It all happened in seconds, everyone else still laughing at the jokes between the best man and maid of honor.
RJ’s hand went to her face, and she stared at her fingers for a moment, presumably to see if she was bleeding. I couldn’t hear their exchange, but it was short and terse before she turned to the couple and finished the rehearsal without incident. Garrett Parker of Parker Studios had stepped back quickly, and I balled my fists at my sides for the rest of the rehearsal.
“I have what I need here,” Garrett said, pausing on his way out. We stood near the exit, the hall where everyone else had lingered only partially visible from where we were positioned. “Ten tomorrow at the bridal suite?”