His attention feels nice. Life has been too crazy to flirt with anyone in a long time. I smile crookedly. “I was the idiot who knocked your table over.”
“I know, which is why it’s horrible that I am still pristine and you are not.” He winks at me and leaves before I can blush.
What a horrible how-we-met story. Mom, this is Deegan. I grabbed his package at the sidewalk bistro down the street. It was good for both of us, until the food fell on my face. Oh, God. In a split-second decision, I grab the doorknob and yank it open. “Deegan?” I poke my head out and see him waiting for the elevator.
He looks back at me. “Did you forget something?”
“Yeah, can we not tell anyone how we met?”
He smiles. “Ah, your mother doesn’t know she’s a Sith Lord?”
“Uh, she’s evil incarnate, but no—not that. I mean, let’s just say we met at check-in and leave everything else out.” Meaning I’d rather not recap the fact that I’ve felt him up, uh, down in his nether regions.
He grins wickedly, but nods. “Of course. I’ll see you later.” He disappears into the elevator and I slip back into my room.
CHAPTER 5
Alone at last, and it’s still half an hour before check-in. I have enough time to shower and get ready for tonight. Sophie is having a special dinner this evening for the wedding party and her closest relatives. It should be a week of fun with a camera strapped to my face—which is fine with me because I love shooting. Sophie and Steven will get married over the weekend and the guests will hang out for a few more days, because who wouldn’t want to stay here? The place is beautiful, minus the demon at reception. Well, I think it’s beautiful, but I bet Mom won’t. We don’t really get along very well.
My mother nearly had a stroke when I told her that I wouldn’t be attending college. My brother and sister, both of whom are at least a decade older than me and perfect in every way, attended college. They were two perfect children, bestowed upon my darling parents from glorious angels above.
Blah, blah, puke. Seriously. You can’t imagine what holidays are like at my parents’ house. According to her, I’m obviously from the ‘other side of heaven’s tracks.’ I love her, but we seriously don’t see eye-to-eye—on anything. It’s like, she got every parent’s dream in kids one and two, so God thought it would be hysterical to throw Baby Oops at them a decade or so later, just to mix things up. Perfection comes in many shapes and sizes, but, to my mother, I’m not even close.
The perfect daughter would have a ring on her finger and be finishing college, while making arrangements for Barbie’s dream summer wedding. I’m not that kid and Hell will have to freeze over before I let some douche put a ring on my finger. I may be mental, but after being up close and personal with the wedding industry for this long, I’ve seen things. Most couples get married because it’s time, not because they’re in love. They might have money issues, parental pressure, or they’re simply tired of being alone—so they pick Mr. Good Enough and tie the knot.
That won’t be me.
I head into the bathroom and turn on the shower, letting the tiny room get good and steamy before I shuck my clothes and get in. I sigh deeply and stand there, letting the water wash my troubles down the drain. If only life were this simple. I’d never leave the bathroom. I’m pretty sure if I put a fridge next to the tub, I could live in here. I’m half water rat, anyway.
My mind drifts to Sophie. I really hope she’s making the right decision. We didn’t get to talk about it. The engagement happened so fast and then she got swept away in planning a wedding. BAM! It got here faster than I thought it would. I wonder if she feels the same way. Rubbing my hands over my face, I sigh deeply and hope she’s happy. Brides have a tendency to freak out. A serene bride is a medicated bride. Not only is a wedding the biggest commitment of someone’s life, it’s also the event with the highest probability of everything going wrong.
Example: the wedding I shot last weekend. The frosting shouldn’t have caught fire like that, but it did. A few misplaced doilies, a strong gust of wind, and poof! Inferno cake. The little couple on top melted into little hunchbacks.
A wedding from earlier this month had an even more horrifying event: while the bride was walking down the aisle, her little flower girl got too close and stepped on her train. The sound of popping stitches filled the church, as a monster hole opened down the back of her gown, revealing the bride’s panties—which were printed with the word BRIDE across her backside in Swarovski crystals. I was amazed when she just hugged the horrified flower girl and let someone staple the dress back together. That wedding continued, when most other brides would have eaten the entire assembly and spit out their bones for something like that. Never step on a bride, not unless you have a death wish.