Rage (32 page)

fee.

“Boo hoo.” David snapped, running a hand through his

short dark hair.

“Cheer up bloke, it’s your special day,” Phillip replied,

dumping half and half into his coffee. The look the drummer

gave him in response made Phillip wonder if a wedding would

indeed take place.

“I spent the night-- at her request, I’ll have you know—in

Bret’s room. Some nonsensical superstition about not seeing her

before the wedding. No big deal, I’m a reasonable man. So I get

about two hours of sleep since I have to listen to the dulcet tones of Bret vomiting every half hour. Then at five a.m., the texts start rolling in.”

“You could have stayed with us, David. Saffron’s quite a

fan of your cute little bum.” Nathan flicked his ashes, and Phillip chuckled.

“Shut the hell up, Nathan. He’s on a roll.” Scot leaned for-

ward in his seat in anticipation. Phillip bit back a smile. He knew Scot was right; when David was on a rant, it was a rare and en-206

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thralling event.

“So the first said…,” David began scrolling back, his eyes

looking crazed. Phillip mused that David looked as at home with

his smart phone as he did twirling drumsticks. Considering his

choice of wife, it was probably good that he’d become one with

his phone. “…’I can’t marry you. I’m hideous.’”

“Oh for the love of God, can you keep your voice down?”

Bret held his temples.

“Can you stay sober for the day?” David shot back, then

continued, “The next one says…’I broke a nail and ripped my

panty hose.’”

“Who wears panty hose in this heat?” Bret scoffed and all

eyes slowly turned on him.

“Well, now we know why your wife left you.” Nathan

jabbed. Even Bret laughed at that.

“And this last one…this last one takes the cake.” David

laughed a hysterical laugh. “‘I sent Pilar to get tampons. I just got my period. Our honeymoon is ruined!’”

The entire band erupted in a fit of laughter.

“Well, at least you know she’s not pregnant.” Nathan

brushed his red bangs out of his eyes.

“So much for a white wedding.” Bret agreed, sipping his

coffee and grimacing in disgust.

“I can still call for the getaway boat.” Nathan held up his

cell phone hopefully.

Steph dressed in silky green capris and a matching tunic

style top. She skipped the heels and opted for flats. She knew

she’d be contorting into awkward positions for the remainder of

the day to get good angles, and she wanted to have some strength left for Phillip tonight. After arriving at the bride’s bungalow, 207

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

she spent an hour convincing Yara that she looked amazing and

that any tiny flaws would be handled with touch ups. Steph as-

sured her could work miracles in a darkroom. She hadn’t had to

sell herself or her skills since she was twelve years old, but the future Mrs. David Evans had her actually doubting herself by the time she was done with her. She’d never taken wedding pictures

for anyone, and she vowed never to do it again, not even for the royal family.

Yara’s insecurity was laughable. The way her dark hair and

olive skin contrasted with her stark white gown made the quality of the wedding shoot a no-brainer. It wouldn’t take Stephanie

Brier to pull it off. Yara was a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition cover girl, and her soon-to be-husband was one of the most

photographable celebrities in the world. Liam could get good

pictures of them with any old disposable camera.

She made sure to get lots of traditional pictures: the bride’s

dad putting on her garter belt and her mother adjusting her hair and fussing with her bouquet. The bridesmaids were not pleased

with their attire; they looked like wenches in a fairytale tavern, their breasts compressed behind tight bodices made of peach-colored material. She did her damndest to shoot Pilar (Saffron’s

‘fat’ bridesmaid) away from all the other bridesmaids—

Cheyenne included. Pilar was the maid of honor, so Steph had a

legitimate reason. Frankly, Steph wanted her to look as lovely as possible. Pilar was a cool girl, open and down to earth. She was also a busty, but very attractive woman, but what normal girl

wants to be shot standing next to a bunch of rail-thin profession-al models?

After getting a text from David that the groomsmen were

dressed and ready, she left the female contingent and headed

outside to the pool. When she rounded the corner and saw Fury,

she nearly dropped her camera.

With the exception of David, who looked ravishing in a

shocking white tux, the other band members wore billowy poet

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style shirts and dark pantaloons with knee high boots. By the

time she was done laughing, she was hoarse, and her throat hurt.

“You all look like extras in a gay porno version of the Pi-

rates of Penzance.”

“My, aren’t we witty today? Still have an endorphin high

from last night’s antics?” Nathan purred, looking particularly

ridiculous in his wedding garb. Steph placed a hand on her hip

and gave Phillip as suspicious glance.

Phillip shrugged, looking like a rakish devil. Steph ran her

eyes from his boots to his disheveled hair. She raised her eye-

brows and bit the inside of her lip. She planned to have some

role playing fun with Blue Beard later.

David sighed, looking up from his phone. His shoulders

slumped visibly. “Bret, Yara wants you to pull her hair back for the wedding.”

Bret scoffed. “She can toss off. I’m wearing my hair down.”

“But it’s all frizzy,” Nathan complained.

“Nathan, why don’t you go be a girl somewhere else?”

Steph interjected. Phillip and Scot laughed.

“At least put some product into it.” Nathan mumbled.

“You guys look pretty hot.” Steph raised her camera, then

put it down. “I don’t even know where to start. Your future wife is a cruel bitch, DJ Dave.”

“Let’s just get this shit over with.” Scot begged, tugging at

the frilly sleeves of his shirt.

As she lined them up in front of the view of the bay, Steph

called out “Okay, everyone. Say ‘ride me, Captain Sparrow!’”

As she snapped the first photo, they all flipped her off in

unison.

“I think
that
needs to be the cover for Rage.”

“I think
not
.” David frowned.

209

An unexpected downpour delayed the ceremony for an

hour. It took another 45 minutes for the staff to dry off all the chairs and for Pilar to redo Yara’s smeared makeup from her

latest crying jag. A string quartet began to play the familiar

strains of Cannon in D, and Stephanie tiptoed around the anxious crowd as Scot and Cheyenne started down the aisle. Even though

they looked like a total fashion nightmare, their dark good looks complimented each other nicely. Steph planned to crop out as

much of their clothes as possible when she developed the shots.

Liam shouted “Mamma!” from Kara’s lap and the crowd snick-

ered.

Bret started down the aisle with Yasmin, closely followed

by Phillip and Antonella, who all seemed nervous that it might

begin to rain again at any moment. The sun was peeking through

breaks in a heavily clouded sky, so Steph considered that they

might be onto something. Liam shouted “Pip” and broke free

from Kara’s grasp, chasing Phillip down the aisle and tugging on an effeminate lace cuff. Liam broke in between the couple and

took both their hands, escorting them to the altar, much to the

amusement of the on-looking crowd. Cheyenne looked around

horrified, but Scot beamed proudly.

Phillip scooped up Liam and tickled him. Liam exclaimed

“up,” and Stephanie knew that he wanted Phillip to throw him in

the air. Phillip whispered something to him. Both Kara and Scot

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made attempts to get Liam to come to them while the string

quartet vamped for time. Liam shook his head and snuggled into

Phillip, sucking his thumb. Steph took several shots of that mo-

ment and felt as if someone was gently squeezing her heart. Phillip shrugged at Scot, then turned and winked at Steph.

Pilar and Nathan were the last to make the trip. It was odd

seeing Nathan with a woman who didn’t tower over him, and

Pilar’s dark hair and skin contrasted fabulously with his fair skin and emerald eyes. The Maid of Honor and Best Man both smiled

dashingly, and Steph was pleased with the series of photos she

snapped of them.

Once they arrived at the altar, the quartet struck the familiar

chords of the bridal march, and all the guests rose from their

seats. Steph maneuvered around the crowd for the best vantage

point as Yara and her father stepped onto the red carpet in the

sand. Yara appeared as if she did this every day, and you’d never have known she’d been a raving lunatic only an hour before.

Stephanie’s shutter made whirling sounds as she took photo after photo, then turned and zoomed in on David’s smiling face.

Earlier, while they were waiting out the storm, Phillip had

regaled Steph with David’s rampage about his betrothed’s text

messages. Looking at him now, one would never guess that he

thought of Yara as anything but perfection. The frank love his

face expressed made Steph have to suppress a sniffle. She as-

sumed it was the flood of hormones from reuniting with Phillip,

but like the Grinch she was, she swore her heart grew three sizes that day.

Yara’s father lifted her veil and kissed her cheek, handing

her off to David. The priest launched into his spiel in Portuguese, and Steph made every attempt to get shots of the crowd in as

unobtrusive of a way as possible. As she moved to the far back

to take a shot down the aisle, she noticed an SUV pull up and a

figure in pink hop out. Steph tilted her head and narrowed her

eyes curiously. She lifted her lens and zoomed in on the ap-

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proaching figure.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it was Bret’s

wife Sarah. Her long blonde hair whipped around her, framing

the flush apples of her cheeks. Her eyes had a bright quality that made her look like she’d been crying, but she took determined

strides as she rushed in the direction of the ongoing ceremony.

Choking back a gasp, Steph pulled her eyes away from the

camera and looked around wildly for someone to tell. Every eye

was on the bamboo altar and the beautiful bride and groom un-

derneath. Every eye, except for Bret’s. As if he sensing Sarah, he turned and looked over his shoulder. Steph pointed, and Bret’s

eyes followed her finger. As he zeroed in on Sarah, his mouth

fell open, and his hand grasped his chest.Sarah came face to face with Steph and opened her mouth to speak, but Steph just pointed mutely up the aisle. She turned, and Steph got a front row seat to the moment Sarah locked eyes with her husband. As if unaware of his surroundings, Bret slowly turned away from the cer-

emony and with unsure steps walked back down the red carpet

toward his wife. The priest faltered in his speech, and soon

hushed murmurs peppered throughout the gathered crowd.

Sarah rushed forward and Bret opened his arms as she flung

herself into them.

“I’m sorry, I love you. Bret, I’m sorry!” She cried, and she

clung to him, her hands entangled in his long dark hair. Tear

streamed down Bret’s face as he showered her with little kisses.

“I love you, too, Darling. I missed you so much.” His voice