Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(13)
She shivered.
“Shouldn’t you be ass kissing right now? Aren’t I the one paying you?”
She could physically feel gray hair sprouting from her roots. “Actually, Mrs. Harkin hired me.”
“But I’m covering the wedding.”
The sound of reason knocked up beside her temple, but she ignored it.
“Then fire me. I’m sure Corrie’s wedding party with their cell phones will be happy to send you their pictures.”
He leaned forward. “I can see why your ex-husband divorced you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
There were hits . . . and then there were low hits.
“Does Corrie know you plan on rushing back to LA by Tuesday for your meeting?”
She could tell by the twitch in his eye that his fiancée had no idea.
“Don’t pretend to know a thing about me when it’s obvious I know a few things about you. I’m here for Corrie, Mr. Brooks. I’ll do my best to hide your self-centered, egotistical horns while taking the pictures. But if they pop out, don’t blame me.” She stood, leaving her drink behind, and walked away.
Let him deal with her bill.
The incidentals of her trip were supposed to be handled by the wedding party, anyway.
By eleven, room service had delivered a replacement drink and toast. Shannon felt seventy percent better, which was sixty-five percent more than she expected.
Unlike the wedding guests, her outfit for the event was about blending in and becoming invisible. In the past, that meant wearing dark clothing, often pants, since kneeling to get the right shot was easier in flexible clothing.
She’d thought ahead and bought tan cotton pants, a simple loose shirt that would breathe while she ran around in the sun, and sneakers. Although she saw herself ditching the shoes if sand getting inside of them became a thing.
Unlike the night before, the way to travel from one location to the next was along the beach.
A vast span of white sand spread for as far as the eye could see. The clear turquoise water faded into deeper shades of blue and disappeared on the horizon. It was spectacular. The gentle waves came on shore like an invitation. Speedboats rushing by or Jet Skis buzzing around didn’t interrupt the peaceful scene because that kind of activity was forbidden in the waters of Tulum. It was one of the reasons the location was ideal for beach weddings. In Cancun, where the hotels were bigger and the venues could hold hundreds of people, you had to contend with traffic on the water and more people wandering on the beach during the ceremony. Here, those things simply didn’t happen.
Still, it was a destination wedding, and like Justin had said the night before, it was presumptuous to ask guests to travel such a distance to watch someone get married.
This was the kind of place a couple escaped to when they wanted to elope. Or maybe the BFFs came along and everyone hung out for a long weekend while two people just happened to get married.
Shannon pushed the thoughts from her head and angled down the beach to the site of the wedding ceremony.
Already chairs were set up and a florist worked with a team of three people, decorating the space. On each side of the chairs, long benches sat framing the ceremonial space. Shannon frowned as she tried to maneuver the cramped area.
Ida, the event coordinator, was instructing several men when Shannon found her.
Shannon introduced herself and got straight to the point. “The benches are going to get in the way of me moving around to take the photographs the couple want.”
“Without the benches, we don’t have enough seating for the guests. I explained to the bride that seventy-five to eighty was the perfect number. We could accommodate up to a hundred. Somehow that turned into a hundred and twenty-five.”
Shannon looked over the space again.
She’d have to make it work without walking past the guests on the outside lane. Which meant she’d be walking up and down the aisle quite a bit. A distraction to those attending. Hopefully Corrie and Victor wouldn’t notice.
The thought of the bet she’d made the night before gave her head some peace. Even Victor’s own brother didn’t think the marriage would last, which meant the work she was doing would be burned when the divorce papers were signed.
Not that she would let that stop her from doing the best she could.
“I’ll make it work.”
Shannon walked over to the hotel where Corrie, her wedding party, and immediate family were staying. The party at the beach bar was in full swing. Everyone except the staff was clothed in as little as possible to beat the heat and bronze their skin. It was obvious that not all the guests at the hotel were there for the nuptials.
The paths between the bungalow-style rooms were dotted with palm trees and tropical flowers, all of which would work beautifully for pictures with the bride right before the ceremony. She timed it to arrive an hour and a half early, leaving the last thirty minutes while the guests were arriving to take a few snapshots of Victor and his party. Which Shannon wasn’t looking forward to. But she would hike up her big girl panties, paint on a smile, and make nice with the man.
And then photoshop out his horns in the pictures when she returned home.
She found the two-bedroom bungalow that shared a small courtyard. Corrie and her girls took one room, and Mr. and Mrs. Harkin had the other. She heard the girls chattering before she reached the door.
Her knock was answered with a shout. “If you’re the groom, go away!”