“It’s pouring.”
“I know. I’m sure it’s not what you want. If they have to move the wedding inside, they move it inside. No big deal.”
Corrie looked away, her lips in a thin line. “My mother picked this place. Said it would accommodate everyone on the list. The coordinator told me this morning that we had twenty-five more guests than they can seat at the reception.”
“I’m sure they can make room. Things like that happen all the time.”
Corrie shook her head. “Nothing is going right, Shannon.”
She stopped working on the running makeup and captured Corrie’s gaze. “What does your fiancé say about the rain?”
Corrie’s nose flared, and for a second Shannon thought she’d have a bawling bride on her hands once again. Instead, her chin came up. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“He flew in a few hours ago. He was supposed to fly here with me yesterday and then told me at the last minute that he had a meeting he couldn’t avoid.”
Hair on the back of Shannon’s neck started to slowly dance.
“He’s always working. My mother says that’s a good thing, that we won’t get tired of each other.”
Shannon laid a hand on the countertop. “What do you think?”
Corrie swallowed. “I think it’s a crappy way to start a marriage. It feels like I’m just another merger for his company.”
Shannon was starting to understand Corrie’s point.
“And all this . . . the rain, the screwed up guest list . . . it’s an omen.”
She took a breath and waited. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Corrie nodded once. Her eyes started to well up again.
“Hey. It’s not too late to back out. If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
Corrie looked at her like the thought had never crossed her mind that she actually had a choice.
“Trust me. You’re better off walking away now than going around faking forever with a man who isn’t right.”
“I can’t do that. My mother would kill me. All the guests are flying in.”
Oh, the pressure. Shannon knew it well.
“Listen. I understand that there is a plan here, but you still have a choice. Take it from me, once you say I do, it’s going to take a lot more to say you don’t.”
“You think I’ll end up divorced.”
Shannon didn’t want to put that on her. “If you both love each other enough, you can work through anything.”
Corrie narrowed her eyes. “Did you love your husband enough?”
“I did. But it takes two, Corrie.”
She closed her eyes.
“I’m not saying your fiancé doesn’t love you.” Not that Shannon would know.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Corrie’s friend appeared with the makeup. “He’s here,” she announced.
Corrie released a breath and brushed away the remainder of her tears. “I’m okay.”
Shannon stood back and let the conversation drop while Corrie attempted to erase the stress with powder and blush.
“I’ll leave you girls.”
Corrie painted on the fake smile Shannon had seen the day she’d met her. “I’m fine. It’s just rain, right?”
Shannon left the room, anxious now to see who Corrie’s future husband was.
Three steps into the dining room, where the waitstaff had already pushed tables aside in an attempt to create a makeshift aisle, Shannon’s heart jumped.
Mrs. Harkin stood in animated conversation with Mr. Phone.
Slowly, as if feeling her disapproving gaze, he turned her way. The smile he wore while talking fell.
“You,” she whispered under her breath. Maybe he was just a guest here for the wedding and knew the mother of the bride.
Only those hopes faded when Corrie emerged from the bathroom, walked past Shannon, and straight up to Mr. Phone.
He turned his attention to Corrie and kissed the side of her cheek. Their conversation was too far away for Shannon to hear, but it became perfectly clear who the man was, and who his girlfriend was.
Not only was Mr. Phone not good enough for Corrie, the man was robbing the cradle.
Chapter Four
Shannon flagged down the bartender and sat at the bar. “I’ll have a margarita.”
“Make that two.”
She turned to the man who moved up beside her.
“It’s an open bar, might as well, right?” he said, smiling.
Was it an open bar? She didn’t know. “Right.”
“Now that the groom finally showed up, we can get this shit show moving so we can do it again tomorrow.”
Shannon couldn’t stop from laughing. “So that is him,” she said more to herself than the stranger standing beside her.
He gave her a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. “You must be a friend of Corrie’s.”
“I’m the photographer, actually.”
He sat down. “Then you’re not friends with either of them.”
“You could say that.”
When their drinks arrived, he lifted his glass and said, “Cheers.”
She took a healthy drink and tried not to cough. They poured their tequila with a heavy hand in Mexico. Something Shannon was sure Avery would enjoy, once she arrived.
“I’m Justin, by the way.”
She shook his hand. “Shannon.” His eyes crinkled as he looked at her.
Cute. Had to be in his midforties, with a tiny amount of gray showing up in his hair. He’d be someone she might try to get to know better if she wasn’t first, working, and second, looking for a baby daddy who could never learn her name.
She instantly removed him from her list of prospects.
He turned his attention toward the bride and groom as they walked around the room. “Since you don’t know either party well, what are your thoughts on the happy couple?” The sarcasm that laced his question had her answering honestly.
“To start with, he’s too old for her.”
Justin nodded and sipped his drink.
“And then there’s the fact he’s an asshole.”
Justin choked on his cocktail, spitting some of it on his shirt.
Shannon handed him her napkin while he recovered.
“Sorry.”
He was laughing. “I thought you said you didn’t know him.”
“I don’t.” Over the next five minutes, she explained how he’d sat next to her on the airplane and his behavior the entire time they were on the flight. “He never told me his name, so I had no idea he was the groom.”
By now she had Justin’s full attention.
“That sounds like Victor.”
“Is that his name?” He looked like a Victor.
“You really don’t know anyone here.”
“Only Corrie and her mother.”
He twisted in his seat and encouraged her to do the same. “Okay, then. Let me point out the party. Beverly Harkin you know, beside her is her husband, Dale. They like to act like they have money, but from what I can tell, they don’t. I’m guessing they want this marriage more than anyone to somehow elevate their world by their daughter getting married to Victor.” Justin paused. “Dale seems to like a stiff brandy, or three.”
“I take it Victor has money.”
Justin shrugged. “Yeah, you could say that.” He continued around the room. “Grandparents of Corrie, I don’t remember if they’re Dad’s family or Mom’s. I don’t know them. The giggling girls continually taking selfies are Corrie’s wedding party, Barbie, Bitsy, and Bimbo.”
Shannon’s mouth dropped open wide.
“Sorry,” he immediately said, looking anything but. “They all arrived last night like they’d just been to a frat party. It’s just their age, I suppose.”
Shannon let the insult slide. “Who are those people in the corner?”
The older man she’d pointed out seemed to know she
was talking about him from across the room and looked their way. Justin lifted his glass to the man and smiled. “Parents of the groom. Scott and Renee Brooks.”
They didn’t fit the groom. “They seem so normal.” Unlike Victor.
“About as American grown as they get.” He paused, took a breath. “And those two guys over there are old-time friends of Victor’s.” He went on to point out a grandmother and an aunt on Victor’s side, along with a few cousins.
Altogether there were eleven people there for the groom and at least twenty for the bride. A large group for a rehearsal dinner.
Justin turned around and ordered more drinks.
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“Why? You’re not taking pictures tonight, right?”
The bartender hesitated.
“Okay, but just one more.”
“There you go. We’re laying bets on how long the marriage will last. Did you want to join the pool?”
“That’s mean.”
“No, it’s real. I give it six months.”
Shannon licked the salt on the rim of her glass. Considered her bet. “I’ll be surprised if they make it through the honeymoon.”
“Wow, that’s rough.”
Not really. Her memory of the earlier airplane ride and the conversation she’d overheard with Victor on the phone surfaced. “Do you know where they’re going on their honeymoon?”
“Somewhere here in Tulum. Why?”
“For how long?”
“A week. Then they’re off to Cozumel, or maybe it was Grand Cayman . . . I’m not sure.”
Then how was Victor going to make his Tuesday meeting back in California? Ditch his wife? “Such an asshole,” she whispered.
Justin laughed again.
Annoyed, watching as Victor and Corrie walked the room, Shannon turned around in her seat and sipped her cocktail.
She’d seen enough to know what to anticipate the next day if they moved everything inside. The space would be tight, and she’d likely have to block someone’s view of the ceremony in order to capture the right photographs, but there wasn’t a way around that. With any luck the rain would stop and give them more space outside. And by this time tomorrow, it would all be over and she could add a shot to her margarita and move on with her own personal plans.
“You never told me who you were to the bridal party,” Shannon said once Justin turned around to join her in their drinks.
“I’m the best man.”
It was Shannon’s turn to spit out her drink. “What?”
He took a napkin from the bartender’s stack and handed it to her with a wink.
“Yeah. Sorry. Maybe I should have said that first.”
Shannon pushed her drink aside. “You think? I’m dishing out crap on your best friend and you’re playing along.” She wasn’t sure who the bigger jerk was now . . . him or the groom. Or maybe it was her.
“You’re only speaking the truth. We all know Victor’s an asshole, but we love him anyway. I mean, c’mon, a destination wedding? Who does that? Pretentious and self-centered people who could care less about what the guests have to go through to get there.” Justin smiled with a wink. “Not to mention Mexico. Half of his family refused to come because they were worried the cartel would somehow kidnap them and hold them hostage or some such stupid shit.”
“Things like that do happen.”
Justin rolled his eyes.
She stood from her bar stool and straightened her shirt. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go back to my hotel now and avoid putting my foot any farther down my mouth.” She grabbed her drink, needing it now more than ever, and turned to make her exit.
Then slammed straight into Victor, the asshole’s, chest.
Her drink went flying, soaking the man’s dress shirt. The glass hit the floor but, surprisingly, didn’t shatter.
Once again, her lack of grace coupled with humiliation, and Shannon found herself apologizing. “I am so sorry.” She reached behind her, past a laughing Justin, to the stack of napkins. She dabbed Victor’s chest. “I didn’t see you.”
“I’m fine.” He took napkins from her hands and worked the moisture off his shirt while she continued to wipe with napkins Justin handed to her.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
Victor paused. “You pour your drink on me and it’s my fault?”
She kept dabbing, not really hearing his words. “You snuck up on me.”
Justin laughed harder.
Shannon looked over her shoulder. “Stop it.”
That didn’t work.
Victor brushed her hands away.
She stood back and realized half the room was watching them.
Her cheeks warmed. The need to make a graceful exit crushed down.
“Oh, man, little brother. You sure know how to piss off the women.”
Shannon’s head swiveled so fast she saw double. “Little brother?”
Justin’s playful grin had her seeing red. “Didn’t I tell you that?”
No. And if she had a glass with another drink, she might channel her inner frat girl and pour it on him. “It must have slipped your mind.” Somewhere between betting on his own brother’s divorce and spooning out the gossip on the wedding party.
The waitstaff moved in around them and cleaned up the floor.
Mrs. Harkin approached the three of them with a frown. “Oh, dear. What happened?”
Victor smiled at his future mother-in-law. “An accident.”
She frowned. “We’re going to get started. Do you want to find a clean shirt?”
“I’m okay,” he told her, catching Shannon out of the corner of his eye.
“We can wait. You are the groom, after all.”
Mrs. Harkin sure knew how to pour on the sugar.
“Not to worry. It matches the soaking from the rain outside.”
Mrs. Harkin dismissed the worry as quickly as she had adopted it as a problem and moved on. “I see you’ve met the photographer.”
Victor looked Shannon straight in the eye. “Informally, yes.”
“Shannon Wentworth comes highly recommended.”
Victor rocked back on his heels, his eyes glued to her. “Is that so.”
“Yes. Some of her photographs have even made it into celebrity magazines. Isn’t that right, Shannon?”
“Only if the bride and groom want that kind of thing.” Very few did. She stared back.
“Of course we do,” Mrs. Harkin said on behalf of both parties. “Why wouldn’t we want that? Weddings of the rich and famous should be celebrated and shared. Don’t you think, Victor?”
Why was he staring at her?
“We’ll see.”
“Did you know that Shannon was the first lady of California? We’re so lucky to have her working for us. Don’t you think?”
He seemed surprised. “You’re the governor’s wife?”
“Former governor’s ex-wife.”
“I thought you looked familiar,” Justin said beside her.
Victor’s gaze narrowed, his lips lifted a tiny bit. “Interesting.”
What does that mean?
Corrie approached their little party and tucked her hand into the crook of Victor’s arm. She looked like his baby sister, not his future bride. Shannon actually felt a little ill.
“Honey, we need to get started.”
Shannon took that as her cue to leave. “Looks like everything is under control here. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mrs. Harkin asked.
“No. It’s been a long day. I want to be fresh tomorrow, make sure I take pictures that last a lifetime.” Unlike this marriage.
That’s all the mother of the bride needed to hear. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Corrie pulled Victor away without a second glance.
Justin leaned in and whispered, “Bets are fifty bucks apiece. You in?”
She lifted her hand in a fist. “You’re both as
sholes. But I’m in.”
Justin bumped his fist with hers and walked to take his place by his brother.
Chapter Five
Maybe the mezcal the hotel provided in the room was a bad idea after all.
The first shot had tasted like motor oil. Not that Shannon had ever drunk motor oil, but she imagined the smoky, oily taste in her mouth was the closest she’d ever come to such a thing. The second shot wasn’t as bad as the first. By the time room service arrived with an order of nachos, the next shots weren’t bad at all. Drinking alone wasn’t something Shannon did on a normal basis, but watching Victor working the room with his fiancée hanging on his arm prompted the mezcal. By the time she fell asleep, Victor and Corrie had left her head . . .
Until the next morning.
She woke up with the sun, even though her head told her to go back to sleep. The time change always made the first night after flying east the hardest. Not to mention the hangover.
What had she been thinking?
Everything about the past twenty-four hours was completely uncharacteristic for her. She was the quiet one, the one who held her opinion to herself until it was absolutely necessary to express it. She didn’t tell strangers off on airplanes or encourage young brides to ditch their fiancés. And for all that’s holy, she sure as heck didn’t talk to the brother of the groom and tell him what a moron his brother was.
Now, to add insult, she was hungover.
Stomach nauseous, headache, dry mouth hungover.
She needed crackers and ice . . . and a full day to sleep this off.
Sun blazed from outside her window.
Sleep would have to wait.
“This is not okay,” she said to her empty room.
Without considering the time, she picked up the phone and dialed.
Avery answered with a groggy voice, “You’d better be dying.”
“I am.”
“What the hell, Shannon. Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s almost seven.”
“No, it’s five.”
Shannon would feel bad about this later, but right now she needed help. “I drank too much last night. I need a hangover cure, fast.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Noise over the phone indicated Avery was talking to her husband and probably getting out of bed.
Faking Forever (First Wives Book 4) Page 4