Heart's Tempo

by C. L. Ryder

  Heart’s Tempo

  C.L. Ryder

  Contents

  SUMMARY

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading!

  SUMMARY

  Different walks of life…

  Disenchanted with her life path, wedding photographer Lily Golden desperately needs a change. She’s been single since college, and she just can’t admit to herself that she’s got a thing for women. That is, until she meets her at a client’s wedding. She’s impossibly gorgeous, she’s got a voice of gold, and she’s one of the most famous pop stars in the world.

  Passions under the spotlight…

  Winona Heart’s life has been a flurry of stage lights, five star hotel rooms and flashing cameras, never giving her a moment to pursue her true passions or show her real self to the world. She also desperately needs a change, to make a true connection that has been sorely missing in her heart. When she meets Lily, the beautiful stranger unaware of her celebrity status, the two hit it off in a way neither have felt before.

  Their desires must stay backstage…

  As the notes of their passion begin to perfectly harmonize, they must do everything they can to keep their relationship out of the public eye and away from Winona’s uptight and authoritarian stage mother. Can the two women keep their secret hidden, or will the curtain come crashing down on their love forever?

  Copyright © 2017 by C.L. Ryder/Cody Ryder

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This story has been adapted with permission from a book previously published as Our Rhythm by Cody Ryder

  One

  I remember there was a time when I used to love going to weddings. People you loved and cared about all in good spirits and dressed to the nines, the alcohol flowed and the food was usually pretty damn good. By the end of the night, everyone was having a blast, and maybe, depending on whose wedding it was, you might leave having met someone special yourself.

  The time I loved weddings was a period right in my last couple years of university, when a whole chunk of my friends decided to settle down and get married. I was working on getting my degree in photographic arts at the Art Center in Pasadena, just a few years later than a majority of my peers due to a era of bumming around and “finding my calling”. It seemed every other month I was hitting up a friend’s wedding, and it seemed like every time I’d have at least one new friend drunkenly say to me, “Hey Lily, seeing anyone yet?”

  Well, things haven’t changed much in that realm in the three years since I graduated. Still single. I’d tried dating boys in the past, but none of them did it for me, and the thought of actually going out with a girl…? I won’t lie, it scared me. I had trouble just admitting that I was attracted to women—my upbringing had insured that—so the prospect of being intimate with one? Well, let’s just say I’d resigned to a life of perpetual singledom. But I was okay with that, at least that’s what I told myself. I had a career to try and make, after all, even though it was going absolutely nowhere.

  Maybe part of it was my internal struggle. I thought that at the very least I’d have been hired by some commercial firm right out of university; after all, Art Center held that kind of reputation which is why I’d braved the six figure tuition to follow my passion to become a photographer, but here I was, three years down the line, struggling to pay off my student loans and the rent to my shitty North Hollywood apartment, and the only work that I had was as a wedding photographer.

  And that’s why I used to love going to weddings.

  Now instead of the good spirits, all I got was the stress from the exhausting wedding party, having to wrangle the photos with people who were trying to juggle a multitude of other things, all counting on me to make sure they still looked their very best. The grueling hours on my feet, the iPhone photographer aunties who always got in the way when I was trying to capture an important moment, and not to mention every single gig was a painful reminder of my singledom.

  It was a Friday night, and I sat at my computer finishing up a batch of images from a wedding I had shot the weekend before. I was exhausted and I had another to shoot tomorrow. I rubbed my eyes, the images of smiling couples against gleaming golden sunsets, wedding ring macro shots and dress preparations all blending into one pastel twinkly mess.

  In school I had studied commercial work–shooting products for advertisements and things like that–but my real dream was to shoot home architecture and gardens. I absolutely loved shooting people’s living spaces, lighting them and setting them up in a way that captured the essence of what made their house feel like home. I dreamed of traveling the world and shooting homes of all different types of people, from the tiny, nature harmonized spaces of Tokyo to the ultramodern high rise penthouse apartments of Dubai, and everything in between.

  Yesterday I had gone for an interview with Homeowner’s Mag, a top online publication that did the type of work that was just up my alley. They were sending their photographers around the world, they were marketed towards trendy and forward thinking young professionals, their design aesthetic matched mine almost perfectly. Finding a company actually looking at portfolios was rare. Landing an interview was even rarer. Getting to the second phase after that would be a damn miracle, but I needed this job. I had to get out of the wedding biz and get my real career started.

  I hit export, uploaded the photos to my website, and then sent off a link to the client. I was going to shut off my computer, when I paused at the file on my desktop titled LilyGolden_Portfolio.PDF. I opened it and scrolled through the photos I had shot during my senior year at college, the same portfolio I had submitted to Homeowner’s Mag. I reassured myself that I was a sure fit. I glanced at the clock–two thirty AM. Christ. Another late night, another early morning. And I had a terrible suspicion tomorrow's clients were going to be one of those difficult ones. I hopped in the shower, brushed my teeth, and was out before my head hit the pillow.

  Two

  “So, Lily, just so I have this straight,” Carol, the bride’s mother said, interrupting me as I worked on a getting a shot of the bride being made up by her tittering bridesmaids. It must’ve been the tenth time in the past hour the woman had come to me with questions about the photos. “You’ll be sure to get a shot of the rings? And during the ceremony, during the kiss, I want you to make sure that the photo will be extra magical.” She said “magical” with a flourish of her fingers, like they were sparkling pixie dust. “Do you know what I mean? With the glowy dots in the background.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got it all covered,” I said for the tenth time.

  “Okay. But you’ll be sure to get the vows from both angles? And with the glowy dots?”

  “Carol, I’ve got it all covered. Alex and I will make sure everything is shot perfectly, don't you worry.” Alex was my business partner, and happened to be the only friend who knew about my preferences. I held the camera back up to my eye and snapped a couple shots, trying to get back into my groove, but I could still feel Carol hovering by me.

  Glowy dots. Some clients couldn’t resist giving suggestions, which wasn’t always a bad thing–they had id
eas for shots that they really wanted and I was happy to give that to them– but there were people like Carol who had to micromanage everything about a skill she had absolutely no knowledge of. By “glowy dots” she probably meant “bokeh”, the thing that happens to points of light in the background when you shoot with a shallow depth of field.

  I finished up inside and went out to grab a quick breather before guests started arriving and things started to get really intense. The venue was beautiful, an idyllic and rustic little place that had the feel of an old Spanish mission, tucked up onto a hill overlooking the ocean. It was pleasantly cool for a California June day, which I couldn’t have been more thankful for. Nothing worse than rushing around with photo equipment strapped to me like G.I. Jane in ninety degree weather.

  I saw Alex sitting on the edge of a fountain by a table with a poster of the bride and groom that said “Life Starts Here!” printed on it. He was smoking a cigarette, his Canon DSLR placed in his lap. Alex was a couple years older than me, had shoulder length brown hair tied up into a man-bun, dark eyes, and always wore a no-nonsense look about him that he called “resting bitch face.” He and I had met through a mutual friend during school, and we became good friends almost immediately. Alex had a never ending reservoir of snark, and I loved him for it. I always knew I could count on hearing his honest opinion on things.

  “Carol wanted me to remind you about the glowy dots,” I said, sitting down next to him. He laughed and took a drag of his cigarette and then offered the box of American Spirits to me. I shook my head.

  “She pulled me aside earlier today when I was taking some shots with the zoom,” he said. “Asked me if I was standing close enough. I thought she was going to ask to look through the viewfinder just to make sure.”

  “Things never cease to be interesting with a client like her, huh?” I said. “The bride and groom seem like great people, though.”

  He nodded. “Getting to see people like Sarah and Matt tie the knot is what makes this job worth the pain. So. You hear back from your housewife magazine?”

  “Homeowners Mag,” I corrected. “And no, nothing yet. Any time now, though.”

  Alex took a final drag of his American Spirit, knocked off the ember and then tossed the butt in a trash can beneath the table next to us. “Well I hope it works out for you, Lily, even though it would mean me having to find another partner. Your work is amazing.”

  I smiled at him and checked my watch. Guests would be showing up any time now. We would go back and take some last minute shots of the bride and groom before the regrouping for the ceremony. “What about you, Alex? How's your blog coming?”

  Alex had been trying to get an entertainment news blog off the ground during college, but despite his efforts and excellent writing skills, it’d never gotten much traction.

  “I’ve got a voracious and loyal fan base of ten people, one of which is you and three of which are my parents and sister. I don’t see that doing much for me, unless I somehow catch a break.”

  “Hey, that’s six loyal followers,” I said, and we both sighed.

  The guests began to arrive and take their seats in the gazebo where the ceremony would be held, and Alex and I went around snapping photos. A group of high school girls who I learned were cousins of the bride all posed for a photo for me before retreating to their seats to take copious amounts of selfies. Alex and I brought out our lighting equipment and set up a strobe flash behind a diffuser as a fill light for when bride and groom took their vows. I quickly went to the venue manager and asked if he had any Christmas lights we could hang up to give Carol her “glowy dots.” He did, and the three of us strung them up on the wall.

  There was a hushed and excited exchange from the high school cousins and for a panicked second I thought that the ceremony was about to begin when we weren’t completely ready, but when I looked up I saw that guests were still making their way in to their seats. No, the girls were talking excitedly amongst themselves, occasionally turning around to peek at someone who was at the back of the room. I noticed that a few others were looking now too; quick attempts at discrete glances. I saw that a woman had entered–tall, with golden blonde hair falling down to her shoulders in shimmering waves and gorgeous blue dress with sunglasses. She shook hands with a couple people and gave hugs to others, all while folks were looking up from their chairs at her, smiling and wide-eyed.

  Who was this girl? Old friend of the bride’s, maybe? That didn’t really account for the teenage girls who were gawking at her. She removed her sunglasses, revealing bright ocean blue eyes and there was an audible gasp from the group of cousins as she did so. They immediately started to whisper again, watching her with intense interest as she took a seat near the back of the friend’s section, but by herself. It seemed like she wasn’t close with anyone here.

  “Lily, help me with this light stand?” Alex called, snapping me back to the present.

  “Sure, sorry,” I said, and hurried over to get the thing extended and set up. Maybe she was some sort of celebrity? I didn’t recognize her, but these days, anyone could be internet famous.

  Alex and I took our places, snapping the occasional photo of the guests as they chatted in their seats. I had forgotten all about the blue-eyed mystery and settled into my work focus. We’d shoot the ceremony, have a quick break, and then be all in again for the next few hours until the end of the night.

  Then the music started, and the ceremony began.

  So, despite my complaints about the grind, and despite having said that I used to like weddings, there was still magic in that ceremony that got to me every time, no matter how terribly stressful the client was to work with, or how tired I was, or how much I wished I was out shooting something related to my desired career and skill path. I’m in my zone making everyone look their very best, but when the bride and groom exchange their words to each other I can’t help but look up from my viewfinder and smile. In all of the weddings I’ve shot over the past three years, I can honestly say that every time, that moment contained a bit of real magic. Hopes for the future, the binding of two souls together forever, an opening of a door to new lives together.

  I snuck a glance at Alex as we wound up towards the big moment. He nodded to me. Then I happened to look over and see Carol, who looked like she desperately wanted to come up and take the photo herself. Then she pulled out her cell phone and looked at its screen down the bridge of her nose, tapping on it with an urgency that suggested she thought that she had better have a backup photo.

  “And do you Matt, take Sarah as your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do.”

  “And Sarah, do you take Matt as your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well. Then with the power vested in me by the state of California, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

  They kissed, and the reception cheered and clapped. I captured the moment, complete with bokeh. After it was done, Alex nodded to me and gave me a thumbs up, and I returned it.

  During the reception, the DJ played the requisite “Cha Cha Slide” and even Carol had enough alcohol in her to stop pestering people and enjoy the celebration. I watched with amusement as she joined the lineup with her husband, the groom’s parents, and a few of the other uncles and aunts while the younger crowd laughed and clapped along.

  I snapped a few shots of the dancing crowd before moving off towards the bar to take a quick break and partake in the free drinks. “Any of the cocktails covered?” I asked the bartender.

  “Sure, just the basics though,” he said.

  “Vodka cranberry, please,” I said. “Better throw in a Stella too.”

  “Vodka cran and a Stella.” He mixed the cocktail and popped open the beer and slid them in front of me. “Long day, huh?”

  “Gotta make my breaks count,” I laughed, and took a big swallow of my cocktail. It was nice and strong, and I gave him a few bucks for tip. “Thanks.”

  He nodded a
nd smiled, and then turned his attention to the woman who had just come up to the bar. I looked over, my face still in the glass, and saw that it was Ms. Popular from earlier on. My heart thudded suddenly, my curiosity regarding the gorgeous stranger piquing again. She leaned against the bar, her body curving with an incredibly sexy elegance. It looked like she was posing for a photo.

  “Scotch, neat,” she said with a velvety smooth voice, and pointed to a bottle of MacCallan that was on the shelf. “Actually, can you make that a double?”

  Somehow, I wasn’t at all surprised that she had ordered a whiskey and not something more “girly” like a glass of wine.

  “Sure, but scotch isn’t comped,” the bartender said. He looked flustered by the girl, as if her request for scotch had been a confession of love to him or something. She was incredibly gorgeous. She stood out from everyone else, not just because she was impeccably dressed, but her very presence radiated charisma and attractiveness. Put this girl in a McDonalds and it could pass as a five star restaurant.