What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 2)

by Vi Keeland

  I contemplated getting a boob job, but I was too much of a chicken shit to ever go through with it. I’d seen a show on MTV that was dedicated to girls who were getting breast implants. These girls were crying on the way home from their surgery because of the bumpy car ride and how much it hurt to go over speed bumps. They had to tape themselves up with Ace bandages to keep them from moving. The final straw was the tube inserted inside their boobs to drain any infection. I remember thinking, “Oh my . . . Why would anyone put themselves through that?” I thought I was going to vomit when I saw that.

  As I gazed into the mirror, with the disgusting vision of the boob job drain still in my head, I buttoned my blouse and my cell phone began to ring. It was Katie calling. She always called me the morning of a wedding to make sure I was all set. Katie was pretty neurotic about her photography business. Being like an older sister to me, she always wanted to make sure I was ready.

  “Hey, Katie. How are you?”

  “Hi Leila, are you ready for your next Bridezilla?”

  “You know it,” I said confidently.

  Katie went over the specifics of the wedding with me. This was actually the first out of town wedding that I would be photographing on my own. The bride was getting ready at the venue where both the ceremony and reception were being held. I was extremely happy to hear that. It made things so much easier when everything was held at the same location.

  Chapter Two

  As I headed out the door, I double-checked to make sure I had my cell phone, my camera and extra batteries. Bridezilla was getting married at a beautiful apple orchard about an hour and a half away from my apartment. Katie and I had photographed a wedding there about six months before, so I was familiar with the grounds.

  As I began walking down the stairs, thoughts of last night crept back into my head. I cringed, and my stomach began to ache. I rushed down the rest of the stairs to the parking lot taking a deep breath in. The air outside was brisk. Fall was definitely upon us. I hopped into my beat up old Honda Civic. Even though it was old, I loved my car. The seats were a bit beaten up and worn, but I didn’t care. We’d been through a lot together, and it had never let me down. I popped my new P!nk CD into the player and hiked up the volume and off, I went.

  I arrived at the orchard in record time. I am known to have a lead foot, especially when I listen to music. I tend to get in a zone and lose myself in it. It was a miracle I had never been pulled over for speeding. I pulled into the parking lot with my stereo blaring P!nk. She was singing about the weekend as I parked my car. I couldn’t wait to get this wedding over with and start my weekend.

  As I made my way from the parking lot into the venue, I noticed the leaves on the trees were beginning to change colors. The orchard was absolutely breathtaking. There were acres and acres of land covered in beautiful fall colors of reds, oranges and yellows. Fall was my absolute favorite season of the year. I entered the lobby of the reception hall and headed directly to the wedding coordinator’s office to introduce myself and find out where the bridal party was located.

  Upon arriving at the bridal suite, I could hear a commotion from behind the door. I knocked and a moment later heard a loud abrupt, “Who is it?”

  “Leila, your wedding photographer,” I replied.

  The door flew open and there she was, Bridezilla in the flesh. She looked like a cast member of Jersey Shore. She had jet black hair, fake eyelashes, and huge fake boobs with overly tanned skin. All she was missing was a big poof on the back of her head.

  “Oh, who are you?” She huffed.

  I tried to introduce myself to her, but she put her hand up in my face, demanding to know where Katie was. I explained that Katie was photographing another wedding today, and that I’d been working for Katie for four years. Bridezilla cut me off mid-sentence and insisted that I get Katie on the phone immediately. I sighed, got out my cell phone and started dialing Katie’s number. No sooner had I hit the last digit, Bridezilla ripped the phone out of my hand. She instantly began yelling at Katie, saying that it was unacceptable, and she demanded that Katie gets here right away. Her voice sounded like she smoked three packs of cigarettes a day which gave me the chills.

  I could only imagine what Katie was saying to her on the other end. She was a fantastic photographer and a great boss, but if you crossed her, she turned into what I liked to call a Chihuahua. Bridezilla became very quiet and handed the phone back to me without saying a word. I raised the phone to my ear. I could hear Katie explaining to Bridezilla, as she told her at her initial consultation, there was a possibility that she would not be photographing the wedding herself and an employee might be her replacement. Katie went on to say that it even stated as much in the contract that she had signed.

  I couldn’t help smiling. Eventually, I had to interrupt Katie, letting her know that it was now me on the phone. Katie started to laugh and said, “Kill Bridezilla with kindness today, and I will give you an extra fifty bucks for putting up with that bitch.”

  I started laughing. “Will do.”

  After I hung up with Katie, I turned to Bridezilla, held out my hand and officially introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Leila your wedding photographer,” with a smug little smirk on my face.

  Bridezilla just looked at me and said sulkily, “I’m Susan.”

  I quickly went through the process with Susan, explaining what I was going to do and then let her get back to her makeup. Which, in my opinion, no matter how much she put on, it wasn’t going to be enough to make her a beautiful bride. Not unless she hired a plastic surgeon to give her a nose job and face lift in the next twenty minutes.

  Just as I finished explaining things to her, in walked this gorgeous brunette with the longest legs I had ever seen. I felt a bit self-conscious about myself with her in the same room as me. She was definitely model material, perfect body, beautiful deep brown eyes with super long eyelashes and huge boobs. She was wearing a satin red dress that was barely there and her cleavage was hanging over the top of the dress. I thought to myself Jesus is the entire cast of Jersey Shore here? All we need is Pauly D and Vinnie.

  She glared at me, looking me up and down giving me dirty looks the entire time. I could already tell the bitch was going to be a pain in my ass. I let out a sigh and reminded myself to “kill them with kindness” as Katie had instructed. With a huge fake smile on my face, I held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Leila, the wedding photographer. Can I take a picture of you with the bride?”

  Her eyes scanned down to my hand, not lifting hers to shake mine. “I’m Marie, the sister of the bride and the Maid of Honor,” she replied in a snotty tone. She then pivoted on her heels and sauntered out of the room apparently not wanting a picture with her sister.

  “Ok, you fucking bitch,” I breathed out.

  I started chanting in my head “Kill them with kindness, kill them with kindnes.” This was going to be the longest wedding ever. I gathered the bouquets and began photographing them, staying as far away as I could from Bridezilla. Once I was finished taking pictures of the flowers, the rings, and the dress, I approached Susan and told her I was going to go out to the ceremony site. She barely looked at me but nodded her head. I assured her I would be back in twenty minutes.

  As I left the bridal suite, I stopped for a moment. With the door closed behind me, I took a deep breath. I composed myself and made my way through the lobby. How could this wedding get any worse? The scenarios started running through my head. Maybe it will rain? Maybe Bridezilla will get a bad case of diarrhea? Maybe the groom won’t show up. I smiled at my last thought.

  Just as I was about to step into the main reception hall, I heard a very familiar voice and then a very familiar laugh. A laugh that stopped me dead in my tracks. A laugh I would never forget. I hadn’t heard it in over four years. At first, I thought I was losing my mind. I inched my way over to the doorway where the reception was being held. That was when I saw his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. My heart sank. Fuck. The wedding had just g
otten worse.

  Chapter Three

  It was Garrett Levine. The man who broke my heart four years earlier. The man who left a hole in my heart that I’d been trying to fill with alcohol and one night stands ever since. I hadn’t seen him since that fateful night when he told me he loved me, but he couldn’t be with me anymore.

  Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! I was ready to call Katie and beg her to switch weddings with me, but I knew, deep down, that was impossible. I was over an hour and a half away from home and who the hell knew where Katie’s wedding was!

  It had been four years since Garrett left town and fell off the face of the earth. Why was he here? How did he know Bridezilla? Oh my God! Was he marrying Bridezilla? My mind was moving at a million miles a minute. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe, and sheer panic rushed through my body. I felt as if I was going to pass out.

  Just then a voice came from behind me. “Are you ok, Miss?”

  I turned around to see an older gentleman, with gray hair, small framed glasses with an overly large nose, staring at me with a worried look on his face.

  “Yes, I am fine,” I replied in between breaths.

  “Let me get you a chair, you really don’t look well at all,” he said. He poked his head into the reception hall and yelled, “Garrett, grab me a chair! Hurry up!”

  At his words, I said every four-letter word I could think of in my head. This confirmed it was definitely Garrett. I mean how many Garrett’s are there in the world? Now I was going to see him after four years. I was fucked! I quickly tried to stand straighter, which made me feel even worse. My legs became weak, and I stumbled backwards towards the wall. Just as I nearly fell on my ass, as Garrett walked through the door with the chair. He looked at me and did a double take. He looked as shocked as I was.

  “Leila?”

  “Hi,” I said weakly.

  The older gentleman looked at Garrett with a confused look on his face. “You know this young lady?”

  Garrett replied, “Yes,” without looking away from me, his voice barely a whisper.

  As soon as Garrett set the chair down I immediately sat. The older gentlemen introduced himself as, Gary Scirocco, the father of the bride.

  I said in a very meek voice, “Hi, I’m Leila the wedding photographer.”

  “And you obviously, know Garrett here,” he said as he patted Garrett’s shoulder.

  “It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Scirocco and it’s nice to see you again, Garrett.” The words were barely even audible as they came out of my mouth.

  There was so much tension in the air you could have cut it with a knife. I’m sure Mr. Scirocco could feel it too. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked if I would like a glass of water. I looked up at him, finding it hard to speak, and just nodded. He disappeared into the reception hall.

  Garrett crouched down next to me and lightly touched the top of my hand. “Are you okay?” Instantly, my heart started to beat rapidly. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. Garrett had haunted my dreams almost every night. It had nearly killed me when he’d left and now all of those emotions were rushing back. All I could do was nod my head. Even if I had tried to speak I don’t think any words would have actually come out.

  He looked the same, but older. He’d lost the baby face he’d had, making him look more like a man now. He stood about five feet ten, hair much shorter than I remembered, the top was longer and the sides shaved very closely to his scalp. I looked into his eyes. They were always my weakness. Deep brown and round like saucers but not overly large. He was wearing what appeared to be a Marines uniform, which might explain where he’d been for the past four years. His body filled his uniform in all the right places. His chest was broad, and his arms looked muscular. His physical appearance took my breath away. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  I wanted to ask him so many questions, but nothing came out of my mouth. No sooner had I opened my mouth to speak, Mr. Scirocco walked through the door with my glass of water.

  “Here you go, my dear,” he said kindly, as he handed me the glass.

  “Thank you.” I took a small sip and a deep breath. I could feel the color coming back to my face, so I decided to try to stand up. Garrett took a hold of my elbow to help me. He’d always been a gentleman from the first day I’d met him. He was like no one else I knew.

  My mind wandered back to the day we first met. I remembered it like it was yesterday.

  It was the middle of November. I just celebrated my sixteenth birthday, and I was in my junior year of high school. Even though I was only sixteen, I’d been a bit of a wild child. I had many boyfriends before but none of them ever seemed to keep my interest. It was kind of like a revolving door with me. Nicole told me I had boyfriend ADD. I seemed to be a love’em and leave’em kind of girl.

  There was nothing wrong with my ex’s. I think I just became bored with them. I had met my most recent ex, through a mutual friend, Shawn. Shawn told me about his friend, Garrett, and suggested I should meet him. Of course, I was game. I was always game to meet a new boy. However, Garrett was no boy. He was nineteen years old. His age made me a bit nervous. I never dated someone that much older than me, but of course, I was up for the challenge.

  Shawn invited me over to his house one day after school with the intention of me meeting Garrett. Once I’d arrived at Shawn’s house, he informed me we were going to take a walk over to Garrett’s place. When we got there his mom answered the door. She was a cute little Italian woman with an accent. She told us Garrett wasn’t home from work yet, but we could come in and wait for him. Once in the house, Shawn pointed out a picture of Garrett on the refrigerator. I walked up to it to get a closer look, and my heart stopped.

  There he was standing in a bedroom. He was wearing a white wife beater and loose baggy ripped jeans. His hair was a very dark shade of brown, almost black and long and shaggy, almost like a surfer. His chest and arms were toned and defined, you could tell he played some sort of sport or worked out. His physical appearance was gorgeous, but his eyes were what I couldn’t stop staring at, they were almost hypnotizing. He had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a guitar in his hand. I couldn’t help but stare. Shawn cleared his throat and snapped me out of the trance I was in.

  Yup, this guy is going to be my parent’s worst nightmare.

  Suddenly, I heard Garrett’s voice. “Leila?”

  I shook my head and realized I totally just spaced out. I focused my eyes back on his. “Huh?”

  “Why don’t we go outside and get you some fresh air?”

  I nodded. Garrett waited for me to start walking and put his hand on the small of my back as we walked towards the double doors at the back of the building, I noticed he was walking with a slight limp.

  I stopped and turned to him. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” I asked.

  “What?” He replied with a puzzled look on his face.

  I looked down at his legs. “Why are you walking with a limp? Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Oh, No. I’m fine. I just pulled a muscle in my calf at the gym. It’s nothing.”

  I felt my heart jump and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy, at his touch. As we stepped out onto the patio, the cool air hit my face. I took a deep breath in and exhaled. The cool air definitely was making me feel better already. The patio was decorated with beautiful lanterns that hung above our heads.

  Garrett pulled out a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket, and I gave him a puzzled look. “You started smoking again?”

  He put the cigarette in his mouth, lit it up, took a drag and turned to me. “Yes,” he said in an annoyed tone.

  Smoking was something we had always fought about when we were together. I hated the fact that he smoked. I hated the way it made my hair stink, how it stunk up his car, and I told him it made me feel like I was kissing an ashtray.

  “I started back up a few years ago,” he said.

  I looked at him with disgust on my face.

  “Don�
�t give me that look,” he snapped bitterly. He began to pace, not taking his eyes off me. “Just remember which one of us went behind the other ones back.” His sudden words stung. He shook his head and exhaled his tension. “I am not getting into this with you here.”

  But I wasn’t going to let him get the better of me. I had four years’ worth of bitterness to lay on him. “What are you doing here anyway? Are you marrying Bridezilla?” I snapped back.

  “Bride what?” He said shaking his head and scoffing. “You haven’t changed a bit have you? The same ole speak your mind with no filter. That shit hasn’t gotten you in trouble yet?” He asked coldly.

  “Nah,” I replied. “I’ve learned to filter myself in certain situations.”

  “So?” I said sharply.

  “So, what?” He replied.

  “Please tell me you are not marrying that mega bitch in there,” I said flatly. He took another drag of his cigarette and said loud and clear, shaking his head. “No!”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief and said under my breath, “Thank fucking God.”

  “Come on, Leila. Give me more credit than that!”

  I looked at him and said harshly, “Well, you started smoking again so I thought maybe you had lost your mind completely.”

  “I am here with . . . What do you call her? Bridezilla’s sister, Marie.”

  “Oh, you are dating the douche of honor,” I said in a very cold tone. “Wow! You got yourself a real catch there.”

  “I said I was here with her . . . Not dating her,” he snapped back. He sighed and put out his cigarette. “Alright, I can see we are getting nowhere fast with this conversation.”

  “Yeah, you’re right I’d better get back to the blushing bride and her wonderful Maid of Honor. Heaven forbid I should keep them waiting,” I said in a very sarcastic tone.