Unexpectedly You (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Brooke

“The bride is NOT supposed to get a giant zit on her nose the night before her wedding.” Marcia Heubert, our beautiful bride, all dressed up for her bachelorette party wails at Ms. Marks as she points to a miniscule imperfection on her gorgeous face.

I pull out my acne spot treatment travel kit and hand it to Ms. Marks’ outstretched hand, as if she’s the doc asking for a scalpel.

“Night before the wedding is perfect. I can still help you. Day of…then we’d have to Photoshop it out.” She winks, dabbing the teensy spot on our bride’s nose. “Good thing we have the best photographer in the biz.”

A smile creeps on my lips as Ms.
Marks talks about Nate. I wonder if he even knows how much she appreciates his work. If he’s ever heard the pride dripping in her voice when she compliments his photos. Or even the small things. Like the way his tie looked on him the other day. I’d give anything to hear something like that from my mom.

The bride laughs, wiping a stray tear under her eye. “I know I’m being silly
, but…”

“It has to be perfect,” I finish for her.

She nods and all three of us sigh. Ms. Marks hands the kit back to me and pats Marcia’s leg. “That’s why we’re here. So you don’t worry…stress brings out baggy eyes.”

My phone buzzes. 7:30. Time to call Nate.

“Ms. Marks, if I’m done here, I need to buzz Nathaniel out of the bachelor party.” It’s so weird calling him that.

“Good, good.” She smiles at the bride, helps her stand, and squeezes her hands. “
Enjoy
tonight. I’ll have a car ready to take you back to the hotel at midnight. Brooke will make sure you get there safely.”

That was
not
on my schedule, but it is now. I suppose I can get a good five hours of sleep if I keep our bride prompt.

“Thank you, Ms. Marks. I don’t know what I’d do without…”

She holds her perfectly manicured hand up. “It is my job, but it is also a privilege to be here for such a wonderful bride.”

They hug, and it’s so sweet I want to bow to this woman, because I know she’s going to get killer recommendations with how she handles her clients.

I walk Ms. Marks out to a cab, and she rattles off how she wants the night to run. The bride is allowed to drink, but I’m to limit her. Pay off the barman to slip her virgins when I see things going downhill. Nate is to take at least fifty shots per hour, and I put it down, but I’m smiling as I picture the roll of his eyes when I tell him that one. None of the wedding party is to leave the premises until the bride leaves. Keep tabs on the VIPs…AKA, Maid of Honor, the two bridesmaids, and mother of the bride. Slip virgin drinks if needed.

“That should be everything,” she says, stepping up to her cab. “Oh, except…tell Nathaniel he’s going to have to prepare for a spot treatment for our photos tomorrow. That poor thing will have a pimple to cover.”

I nod, admiring the fact she put on the act to calm down our bride, even though we both knew it wouldn’t do much to help.

“Have a lovely night, Brooke.”

“You too.”

***

“Take a picture of me and you!” Marcia squeals to Nate as she pounds into his side and squishes against his cheek. “It’ll be a selfie with another person in the shot! What do they call those? A groupie? Oh! Groupie… See what I did there? I’m soooo punny.”

I stifle my laughter as Nate sticks his arm out and takes the shot. I have to say, his forced smile is pretty damn adorable.

It’s also time to pay off the bartender. Virgin drinks all around!

My phone buzzes, and I know it’s another thing on my list to check off, but I check the screen and it’s my mom. Personal calls are usually big no-no’s in my mind—and in everyone else who’s professional—but I’m not really doing much but supervising and making sure Nate gets
exactly
what his mom ordered. He did roll his eyes when I told him, which made me laugh so hard I think he wondered if I had tossed a few back.

I duck into the quietest corner of the club, which isn’t very quiet, but it’ll do, and answer. “Hey, Mom.”

“Brooke, it’s the twentieth. You haven’t called yet.”

That’s because I was waiting for the perfect moment. I wanted to have a full list of things to tell them so they know how good I’m doing. I wanted an exclusive relationship to add to the bowl of things they can be proud of. But, that’s not scheduled until the twenty-ninth. “Sorry. I’ve been swamped.”

“Get me a fireman stripper! I need a lap dance from a guy with a long hose!”

“Uh, Brooke? Where are you?”

I laugh, sticking a finger in my ear and turning to face the wall. Hopefully future Mrs. Farone’s voice won’t carry as much this way.

“Bachelorette party in Tahoe. It’s freaking crazy here.”

There’s a pause. “Are you drunk?”

“No. I’m here to make sure the bride survives tonight and makes it tomorrow.”
And to keep an eye on our photographer. I crank my head over my neck and watch Nate take a shot of the bridesmaids posing as Charlie’s Angels and smile. I sort of love the angle of his backside from here. His jeans are holey—no surprise—but they make his ass look awesome. Maybe those are his second date jeans.

“Oh. Well, your father and I have been worried.”

Mom’s voice tears my attention away from Nate’s sexy ass, and I turn back to the wall. “Mom, really, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy.”

“With bachelorette parties…?” Her voice lowers in disappointment.

“Yes.” My heart starts picking up speed. “And other things. I’m an assistant wedding planner. It sometimes comes with the deal.”

She pauses again, and prickling shoots up to my eyes. “I really meant to call. I’m sorry. It’s been crazy. I’ve had three pre-planned weddings so far… this is number four, and do you know they call wedding planners for
elopements?
So, I’ve had a few of those. And I booked this
huge
acco—”

“Have you been seeing anyone?” her voice clips.

I knew I should have led in with the Greenwood wedding. I cough and inch closer to the wall, wishing that eye prickling nonsense would stop. “Not really. I had a few dates with someone a couple weeks ago, but it just didn’t click.”

She sighs, and I rush into my date with Joshua.

“I had one yesterday. He’s a law student. Very handsome and driven. We’re going out again when I get back.”

“And this law student…he likes your job?”

My eyes are beyond prickling. Now they are full on watered. “Um, yeah. He’s okay with it.”

“Well, he sounds very promising. I hope you’ll focus on that.”

I nod, stifling the urge to sniffle and give myself away. “I will.” And because I’m desperate, I add, “This job pays well, Mom. That’s why I haven’t called. I don’t need any rent money from you or Dad.” I wait for something…anything that has the word “proud” in it, but she stays quiet. I babble on, hoping to convince her how kickbutt this business really is. “It helps with my people skills, and I get to work in a very professional environment—”

“Time for body shots!”

Mom clears her throat, and I smack my forehead on the wall. So much for that.

“It sounds like you’re doing good, but please don’t hesitate to call if you end up short on cash again.”

“O-okay.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

I tap the end button and stare at my phone. I have notifications, alarms, notes, task lists…and yet I just stare at it, wondering what the hell I’m doing, and if it’s worth doing it.

I’m being silly, really. I paid rent myself. I’m on time for everything. I’m here in Tahoe organizing a wedding that’s going pretty damn good. I should not need anyone’s approval but my own.

Setting my jaw and straightening my back, I turn back to the party, catching Nate’s eyes across the room. His forehead is crinkled, like he’s been watching me the whole time. I give him a smile so he knows it’s nothing to worry about. No last minute changes or stresses. We don’t need to be anywhere. We’re good.

But he doesn’t buy it. He weaves his way through the crowd, and I quickly make sure my mascara doesn’t give away my tears.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks when he gets to me. His brow is still creased in this really cute way, and I want to run my finger over it to smooth it out.

“Yep. Just…” Just what? I have no idea. My phone buzzes in my hand, jolting me. I watch him watch me, and then our eyes float to my cell. Before I can see what alarm went off, he takes it.

Hell no. Where is his drink so I can toss it in his face for that move?

“You know what I think you need?” he says, putting my phone and his camera behind the bar, signaling to the bartender to watch them. I almost bolt around him to get it back, but he’s one step ahead, blocking me.

“No.” I cross my arms and try to grimace up at him, but my mouth seems to want to smile. “What do you think I need?”

He reaches for my hand, uncrossing my arms.

“I think you need to dance with me.”

Chapter Sixteen

Nate

“No.” She pulls away. “Nate. It just buzzed. It could be—”

Just like on the plane I push my finger over her lips. “Seriously, Brooke. Any normal person would be asleep right now. I’ve shot more pictures than they’ll ever want of their night and with each drink the bride gets a little further from Photoshop help.”

Brooke snorts, wrinkling up her tiny nose. There’s something distinctly childlike about her that makes it easier to put up with the ridiculous amount of shit she dishes out.

I take her hand and start moving to the music, still facing her and slowly scooting us back toward the dance floor. The DJ started playing some good stuff after ten, and I want to take advantage. The beat is perfect and he’s moved from one song to another, and I barely notice she’s not dancing with me until I pause because her arm isn’t moving.

I give her a smile and start dancing again as she follows me to the dance floor in small, tentative steps.

I lean into her. “What’s wrong?”

“I mean…” She stops. “I can move, but you can really…like…
move
.”

I step into her, wrap my arm around the small of her back and pull her to me. “Dance like you’ve been drinking all night. Like you don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. Like… Just let the music move you.”

This time I force her to come with me. Our bodies are pressed together, but it’s just Brooke and it’s not like we’re on a date or anything, so this is cool. She’s hitting the beat, but not feeling it yet. She’s still stiff and worried about letting her body shake.

“Brooke. Seriously. Stop thinking. Start moving.
Feel the music
instead of trying to make it perfect.” I grind against her to be a little ridiculous, but her small waist and tight sides feel better than I expected, and I pause before things down south start shifting.

Finally her arms relax and her hips start moving with mine. Her smile gets bigger, the more we move together. We’ve made it to the middle of the dance floor, and she’s actually letting go a little. Brooke. Relaxed and loose. If this were a date, I’d be thinking about
doing this same thing with fewer clothes.

“We’re totally pulling a Dirty Dancing.” She laughs as she leans back, pressing our hips together more.

“What?”

“You know. The movie. Dirty Dancing when he—”

“Never seen it,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. But you’re supposed to hold my back so I can lean over backwards and you can sway me. You know
, if we were doing this for real.”

I firm up my grip on her lower back, wondering if I’ll pay for it in an awkward moment of a hard-on pressed into her thigh. She sways with me a few times as the music slows down.

“Go for it, Brooke. Have your Dirty Dancing moment. I got ya.”

She leans back a little, but I can tell she’s still worried.

Since I’m starting to feel this weird vibe with her, I decide to mess with her a little because I shouldn’t be the only one feeling like something my have shifted between us. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to my chest and whispering in her ear. “I’ve never dropped a girl. Ever.”

She pauses and now we’re just standing on the dance floor, not moving and holding one another. I’ve never been with a girl as short and compact as her before. It feels…different, but good.

“Okay.” She steps back, looking as off as I feel. Her eyes dart around. “I don’t…”

Before giving myself time to think, I pull our hips together again, latching my arm firmly around her lower back. Of course I’ve seen Dirty Dancing. The damn thing plays on cable almost every weekend. I step from side to side a few times to a
Cee-Lo song, and the music is all wrong, but as she relaxes, she starts to trust me and swings further back. And then she finally bends backwards at the waist, exposing some of her stomach and arching her head back in a way I normally only see on a girl in bed, and… The second she’s upright again, her smile is huge, and I jump away from her before my state becomes obvious.

“I’m wiped,” I say, feeling like an ass because I know she’s high from dancing and would probably stay here all night.

We’re both a little sweaty and her makeup is starting to smear. I lean toward her because this is something I can tell Brooke when I could never say it to a date. Getting us firmly back into friendship territory while things settle back into place is a very good idea. “You’re starting to get a little raccoon-eye action. Just a quick swipe.”

She stops and rubs her fingers under her eyes, but it’s still all smudged.

“Nope. Here.” I reach out with my thumbs as she looks up so I can help.

“This is supposed to be water proof. My Clinique freebies are maybe not all that awesome.” She laughs a little, which I can barely hear over the music.

I wasn’t lying when I said Brooke isn’t my type. But my body remembers the way she felt next to me, and her skin is smooth under my fingertips. My chest is doing that weird squeezing thing when our eyes catch. We have a silent moment where her gaze floats down to my lips and then my gaze floats down to hers. It’s crazy but I start to lean in for a kiss. With
Brooke
.

“This thing’s been buzzing constantly.” The bartender holds up Brooke’
s phone and I snap my hands to my sides and step back before I do something really stupid.

I don’t even try to stop her as she darts around me because whatever passed between us was just…
strange.

Instead of trying to make my way back onto the dance floor, I grab my camera and head for the door, Brooke a half step behind me, furiously typing on her phone.

“Brooke. It’s midnight. What could possibly be so important?”

“Family. Mom. It’s stupid.” Her words sound heavy and exhausted with an argument or situation that’s probably been weighing on her for a while.

It’s not stupid and I’m guessing it has something to do with whatever put a frown on her face earlier.

“Oh.” She actually pries her eyes off her phone when we step into the elevator. “How was your date with Celeste? I keep forgetting to ask, and it’s been so crazy since we got here with you trying to
terrify me with horror movies…”

She obviously wants to change the subject, so I’ll play along appreciating when people do the same for me.

“It was lunch.” I shrug. “Fine, I guess. I don’t know. I didn’t need rescuing, but it wasn’t spectacular either. I don’t know…”

“Maybe you’re just not—” She snaps her mouth shut.

I’m not sure I even want to know what she’s thinking but I find the word coming out anyway. “What?”

She cringes. “Ready to date.”

I stop just outside the elevator because really, I should be ready. It’s been months. And I guess I was ready, and then the whole Darrian thing threw me. “Don’t apologize for pointing out the obvious, even if I feel like you just swiped my man-card, okay?”

Brooke and I aren’t like that, which is why we’re starting to be such good friends. Nothing more. Just friends. The dance floor thing was a fluke, and probably so was last night. Stuff is bound to get mixed up when we’re in such close quarters.

I slide the plastic key into the door of our suite and push it open, holding it for Brooke. “Mom and Morsten are probably here by now, so I’m just going to head straight to bed. Your bedroom has its own bathroom, right?”

“Yes.” She’s doing this hilarious face like she’s trying to hold in a grin.

“What’s that look for?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just thinking about how cute your mom is with her boyfriend.”

I cringe, and she laughs at me.

“Now I think you’re trying to give
me
nightmares.”

“Payback is a bitch sometimes.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulder for a half hug in the darkness of the living room. “I’ll see you for brunch with the family in the morning.” I plant a kiss on the side of her head without thinking.

Then I freeze wondering if she’ll notice, but she slips away from me, leaving my arms feeling weirdly empty as she walks to her room.

***

Every time I close my eyes and nearly drift off, I’m dancing again, her hard body in my arms rubbing against me in such a good way. I should have st
ayed at the bar when she left, danced with a few more girls—anything to make this feeling go away. Brooke turning me on is just…weird. I reach down into my boxers to relieve some of the pressure, but stop at my waistband because even this feels totally wrong unless I’m thinking about something that’s not Brooke.

I pull out my phone and drop Celeste a text asking if she’d like to grab lunch again next week, knowing she’s asleep and won’t answer until morning. She put her picture in my phone and I take another moment to study her face, perfect smile, thin lips, long, dark hair… She would be a lot of fun to photograph. She’s everything I’ve always loved in girls. I’m still not sure what to think about our lunch. She’s into art. Into photography, and had even heard of one of the guys I worked under briefly in Brooklyn. She knows my mom, gets the whole wedding planning thing… I don’t know. Maybe starting with a lunch or an easy date just doesn’t work for me
because she’s nice, but I’m not dying to see her again.

Okay. Now I’m closing my eyes and going to sleep, only the beat of the music finds its way into my head with Brooke’s tight waist and loose hips. I toss off the blankets and head for the bathroom. I’m going to take a cold shower and cool off, or a hot shower and relieve the pressure. And then tomorrow morning I’m going to laugh at how ridiculous the way I’m feeling is.

***

Wedding days are exhausting. The bride has these huge, tall flower arrangements on the end of each of the rows of chairs, which is going to make it almost impossible for me to get any kind of unique shots. We hired another wedding photographer who lives in Tahoe to fill in because you never go with only one person behind the camera, but I’m once again working with a stranger. I need to fix this,
but I don’t want to hire a real assistant when my job here is so temporary.

Brooke stands with professional proficiency in the back of the room, blending into the background like she’s supposed to. I never would have guessed she’d be such a natural from the mess she was on interview day. She takes a few slow steps to the door of the chapel and taps her earpiece. “Nate. The bride is almost to the door. We need you for father-daughter pictures before she hits the aisle.”

She has this perfect whisper I can hear just fine, but that I know no person around her notices. Total pro. I’m gonna have to remember to tell her. After watching her face fall last night at the bar, she could use the compliment.

I take a few more shots of the groomsmen beginning to line up and give the Tahoe photographer guy a tap so he takes over while I step out. We share a silent nod, and I follow Brooke. She’s actually easier to deal with than Mom because I can give her crap about everything she does later on. Makes her more fun to watch.

So much of this is automatic for me. Where to tell the bride to stand, how she should look at her dad, how her dad should hold his arm.

Mom fusses around the father, and Brooke tiptoes her way through each bridesmaid and their nude dresses, double-checking flowers and bouquets and alignment. She starts biting her lip when she can’t get one of the larger flowers to tilt the right way, and I snap a few pictures of her. Her hair pulled back off her face, her freckles standing out more in the light and her tight mouth, pulled down as she concentrates.

“Time,” Mom says as the wedding march starts.

This is the part where I get a little frantic because I know how important these little moments are to the bride. I snap a few photos of her father helping her put the veil over her face and Brooke presses her fingertips to the outside edges of her eyes as she watches. I remember a time when I wanted this.
Or at least a simpler version of it. Now I wonder if any relationship lasts.

Brooke’s eyes meet mine just briefly as I look through the camera, and I snap a shot of her looking both prim and vulnerable at once.

I wanna tell Brooke she’ll get her day, she just needs to let go a little, but there’s no time now. I follow the bride with my camera and then step to the side so the aisle is nothing but her and her father, trailing her bridesmaids up to the front.

When I should be a hundred per
cent focused on my job, I take another quick glance back at Brooke. Her arms are wrapped protectively around her waist as she watches with watery eyes. I hope she never loses her hope for love because her childlike desperation for all things in her life to be organized and perfect is starting to be one of the things I like most about her. Mr. Law Student better realize how lucky he is that she picked him.