Through the Lens

by K. K. Allen

  It’s the perfect fall day, ripe with bright-green leaves, a faint spattering of clouds, and a light chill that will feel warm to the wedding party and guests once they’re all crowded together for a long night of festivities.

  On the other side of the dinner seating is a long row of empty tables currently being clothed in white, and that’s where I go. A woman with a headpiece and a clipboard approaches at the same time and reaches her hand out with a curious smile. “Edible Desire, I presume? I saw the van pull up.”

  I give her my best smile and greet her with a handshake. “That would be me. But you can call me Desmond. And you are?” I assume she’s the wedding planner, but I would prefer to have a name.

  “Ursula Crestwell, the wedding planner. My sister, Phoebe, is also a bridesmaid. Thanks so much for agreeing to do this at the last minute. I hear you’re a family friend?”

  “Something like that.” I smile. “The bride is my best friend’s sister’s best friend.”

  Ursula tosses her head back and laughs. “Sounds confusing.”

  I grin. “You have no idea.” Then I gesture to the long, fully clothed tables. “Is this where I’ll be setting up?”

  The woman nods. “This is it.” She glances at her watch. “It’s probably too early now, but we’d like the food to be ready to go by the time the wedding party gets to the reception. They’ll walk out, take photos, share a glass of champagne in private, and then we’re planning for their arrival about thirty minutes after the ceremony.”

  I clap my hands together. “Sounds pretty seamless. I’ll need to keep all the food refrigerated, but I can set everything else up now.”

  “Wonderful.”

  I get to work, setting down the stainless-steel chaffing dishes, filling the water pans, and attaching the biofuel that will later heat the dishes. I set out two end tables with cutlery, porcelain dishes, and napkins. Within an hour of getting there, I’ve done everything I possibly can prior to the start of the ceremony.

  Guests have already started to arrive, and although I’m dressed in all black, I feel the need to step away until it’s time to load the dishes into their trays. So I set out into the woods, in the opposite direction than the guests who are arriving, and find a nearby trail that leads me toward the sound of rushing water.

  I’m sure I could have heard that same sound, only fainter, back at the wedding spot, but I hadn’t even been paying attention. It’s amazing what happens when my mind is full of nonsense, yet when I step into the unknown, all my senses come alive.

  Snoqualmie Falls is around here somewhere. I’ve visited them once before on a short hike with Zach when we first moved to Seattle. But even on that day, my mind was full of anger and frustration over my father like it had been for so many years.

  When I was younger, fighting to survive despite the rage that always seemed to find me, I knew I was meant for more. I knew that above the shadows was something so much brighter, but back then, the darkness was too much to fight through to find the light. I was practically drowning in the darkness when Coach pulled me out with his stern words and threat to turn both Zach and me in for fighting.

  The anger is infrequent now, coming only when thoughts or situations having to do with my father cloud the peace of mind that I’ve worked so hard to hang on to. I won’t turn out like him. I’ve set up controls, like my limits with drinking, to prevent myself from falling into the same disease that he has. But I worry about the triggers. I worry about the next thing that could set me off and bring me right back to my fourteen-year-old self, who was so damaged and lost he couldn’t see straight.

  I also worry about my father, and even that can bring on a trigger worth fearing. His ASD is deemed unmanageable by his doctors until he seeks help for his addiction. Other than that, everyone tells me all I can do is wait. Wait for what? I’m not sure, and I’m too afraid of the answer to ask the question.

  But today, I can hear the heavy waters plunging into the pool beneath the falls. Today, I can breathe in the fresh air and not feel like I’m close to drowning. Today, I can see the beauty in nature and bask in its magic. And if all I have is today, I want to make it worth it.

  About a mile in, I can see the top of the waterfall through a gathering of trees, and as I close in on the view, that’s not all I see. There’s a group of women posing, smiling, and laughing for a photographer. An auburn-haired girl dressed all in white stands in the middle, flanked by a short-haired girl on her left and Monica on her right. Two other girls stand on either side of them. The bridesmaids are wearing seafoam-green silk dresses that bunch naturally at their breasts and fit snugly down their bodies, stopping at their shins.

  I’m about to turn away when another woman catches my eye. She’s not part of the photo shoot, and she’s not wearing green like the other girls. She’s wearing a long-sleeved pink dress that ends midthigh and is decorated in long rectangles of shimmering gold fabric. It’s formfitting, with a thick band of gold fabric wrapping around her waistline and accentuating her sleek hourglass figure. And damn, her legs are so shimmery and long, I can’t stop my eyes from traveling their golden lengths.

  Maggie is leaning against a tree, her smile faint as she watches the group of playful women. My chest squeezes as I recognize the sadness and yearning in her eyes. Maggie may not know what she wants yet out of life, but she knows what she’s missing out on. She doesn’t strike me as a woman who has a ton of friends. With a life built for competition and appearances, I guess that doesn’t surprise me. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to trust a single soul under those circumstances.

  Maggie turns slightly, her brows wrinkling together like she’s searching for something in the woods. Before I can turn away, her eyes find mine and widen just as I pull back from the trees that gave me my view. I don’t know if she knew it was me, but for the first time ever, I kind of want to be seen.

  27

  Something Borrowed

  Maggie

  Leaves flutter in the breeze as I squint to make out the figure that I swear was just peeking out through the trees. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw a pair of bold blue eyes looking back at me before disappearing completely. Or maybe it was just my wishful hoping that Desmond was on the other side of those bushes.

  My feelings for Desmond are becoming more complicated with each passing day. It doesn’t help that I’m surrounded by the guy every waking moment. Even now at this beautiful wedding, when my focus should be on the bride and groom who are about to share their first look, I can’t stop thinking about him.

  Our kiss from earlier in the week still plays on my mind. The memory is so vivid that I can still feel his luscious lips, demanding mouth, and encouraging tongue, not to mention his greedy hands, whispered words, and heated breaths.

  I exhale a soft sigh as my body heats all over again. I’ve never felt more desired than I did that night, and when he pulled me into the back seat of his car, I was more than ready to go all the way. Why not? We are two adults with needs that don’t require commitment or love to satisfy. And in that moment with Desmond, I wanted to use him just as badly as I know he wanted to use me. And I was okay with it.

  So I thought.

  If it was only about sex, then I’m pretty sure the buzz of attraction wouldn’t be so strong when we’re together. I wouldn’t constantly be sneaking glances at him while he’s teaching class. And I wouldn’t be seeking his approval in the kitchen.

  None of the above should matter at all, but clearly, it does

  My thoughts are interrupted by a crackling of twigs as the second half of the bridal party moves through the brush. My heartrate picks up speed because this is the moment when the bride and her groom are going to see each other for the first time that day. It’s all so romantic, with Chloe staring out at the waterfall, her hands nervously gripping the rail while the bridesmaids slowly trail away to give the couple privacy.

  I watch Gavin’s face as he spots his bride on his approach. All he can
see is her long, flowing, auburn hair set in perfect waves down her bare spine. Her dress is completely open in the back, reaching just below her waist before falling around her legs. She’s a stunning sight, but so is he.

  Gavin’s face is cleanly shaven, and his hair is swept loosely to the side. His black tux makes him look like a version of James Bond, with his tall and muscular build concealed beneath the elegant fabric. And the anticipation on his handsome face as he awaits meeting his bride has my chest swelling with emotion.

  My breath catches in my throat when he finally approaches her from behind, and she straightens in his presence. It’s no secret that these two are well attuned to one another, but there’s such an innocence about them that makes this meeting so raw, so significant. I won’t be able to look away if I try.

  Gavin reaches for her hand, as if to give her the courage to turn around and face her soon-to-be husband. There’s a moment of pause while she pulls in a deep breath, rights her shoulders, and starts to turn. When their eyes catch, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  Chloe’s expression immediately fights an onslaught of emotions as her eyes search her fiancé’s. Gavin looks equally emotional as he grabs both of her hands and looks her down then back up. At the moment their eyes connect again, their first tears fall. He’s wiping hers, and she’s wiping his, and then they lean in, whisper something no one around them can hear, and they kiss.

  Cheers explode from the bridal party, and when Chloe and Gavin part again, it’s with a smile and another swipe of tears. More pictures ensue, and I’m suddenly feeling like an intruder. Monica insisted that I come with them to their photo shoot since none of the wedding guests had arrived yet, but I don’t feel right sharing this moment with them.

  As the photo shoot continues, I sneak off through the woods and make my way toward the ceremony area. I’m eager to find a spot in the back row, but then a man in all black catches my eye. He has the build of a football player and the hair of a Sons of Anarchy cast member. Then he turns around, and a fluttering inhabits my chest. Desmond is devilishly sexy.

  He’s currently chatting up Phoebe’s sister, Ursula, when I spot another figure in my peripheral. “Zach? I thought you couldn’t make it.”

  He greets me with a wink and a hug. “I didn’t want to promise Monica in case I wasn’t able to, but Coach was kind about it. I just have to jet to the airport at ten o’clock, so no partying for me.”

  I smile, still emotional from the photo shoot, and feel myself blinking back tears. “You’re so good to my sister. She’ll be so excited to see you.”

  He shrugs, like there’s no other option. “I love her.” Then his grin widens, and he loops an arm around me. “One day, it will be Monica and I saying ‘I do.’”

  I chuckle and nod over to Desmond, who now appears to be flirting with another woman, this one a beauty around Faye’s age. “That’s fine and all, but can you leave him at home for your wedding? He’ll just try to hit on all the ladies.”

  Zach bursts into laughter. “True. Well, at least you have nothing to worry about, then.”

  My stomach squeezes with discomfort. “What do you mean by that?” I ask with a forced laugh. The last thing I want is for Zach to think I care an iota about how Desmond feels about me.

  Zach’s eyes flick to mine. “You don’t have to worry about Desmond hitting on you. I know you’re not exactly his biggest fan, which is perfectly fine. Des has a type if you haven’t noticed.” He gestures over to Desmond, who is still talking with the woman.

  I might just feel my heart break a little in my chest. “You mean older women?”

  Zach winks and then releases my shoulder, leaving a chill. “Don’t say you heard it from me.”

  I’m still watching Desmond interact with the beautiful middle-aged brunette when he looks over and spots me. His eyes quickly shift to Zach, and then he excuses himself from the woman and starts to jog over.

  If I needed additional confirmation that Desmond and I should not be kissing in concert halls or in the back seat of his car, this is it. Desmond has a type, and I’m not it. Clearly, we let the buzz of alcohol and good music cloud our minds. We created a false sense of protection from everything we know we shouldn’t want: each other.

  “Well, look who decided to show up.” Desmond claps Zach on the back while I stay a safe few feet away.

  “Couldn’t let my girl attend a wedding alone, now could I?” Zach grins, making his true intentions clear.

  Desmond rolls his eyes. “Of course not.”

  “How’s the catering gig going? Got everything under control?”

  Desmond shrugs. “It’s all good. Maggie here helped with all the prep back at the kitchen, and everything’s ready to put on the burners when it’s time.”

  I swallow as Desmond’s burning blue eyes land on mine when he mentions my name. And even as I look away, I can feel them lingering on me like he’s begging me to turn back toward him. Why does he have to look at me like that? We’re supposed to hate each other. When did things become so much more complicated?

  When you kissed him, you idiot.

  But even as I answer my own question, I know complications started much earlier than when Desmond and I kissed. They started from the first day I met him. Our first exchange that was fueled with attraction and something new, only to be shattered by a harsh reality.

  “It looks like seats are filling up,” Zach says, his gaze traveling to the ceremony area. “I’m going to go find a spot in the back.”

  I perk up. “I’ll go with you.”

  Zach nods and holds out his arm for me to take.

  “Wait, Maggie. Can I borrow you for a second?” Desmond asks.

  My heart takes off, beating fast at the sound of my name on Desmond’s tongue. I squeeze my lids together and turn to face him. Everything from the past week is suddenly swirling around in my chest and in my head, to the point that I feel like a volcano is about to erupt, and I have no chance of stopping it.

  “I’m not a toy,” I snap. “No, you can’t borrow me.” There’s so much fury in my tone, even Zach takes notice with a lift of his brows.

  “No worries,” Zach says, taking a step away. “I’ll save you a spot, Mags.” Then his eyes float to Desmond in a questioning look before he walks off.

  I bite the inside of my lip as my eyes travel back to Desmond’s. He’s glaring at me intensely. “I was just going to tell you that you look beautiful tonight and that any man who gets to dance with you will be a lucky bastard.” He gives a defensive lift of his hands and takes a step back toward the reception area. “But I probably should have saved my breath. Enjoy the ceremony.”

  I feel like a complete asshole as I watch Desmond walk away. Then I see an orange leaf, still attached to a thin branch, clinging to Desmond’s shoulder blade.

  Desmond was definitely in the woods earlier.

  And he was watching me.

  28

  The Dance

  Desmond

  The food is hot and currently ready to be devoured by the 121 guests that arrived, one more than expected since Zach ended up showing. I wonder if Maggie would have come here today if Zach had agreed to be Monica’s date from the beginning. And if she hadn’t come, would I seriously be contemplating taking Chloe and Gavin up on their offer to partake in the festivities once the majority of my catering duties are complete?

  The wedding party starts to trickle in as music plays. The bridesmaids and groomsmen walk in pairs from the small white tents set up behind the reception area to the ceremony, where the guests are waiting. Monica, who is walking down the aisle with Gavin’s friend Justin, lights up like a Christmas tree when she spots Zach sitting in the back row.

  I’ve never known Zach to fall so hard for a woman. That always made my desire to remain single forever an easy goal to uphold. Now I’m certain that a proposal to Monica is in the very near future, and then what? I can’t be the single bachelor forever, not when my best friend is hitched t
o the girl of his dreams. Suddenly, staying single forever doesn’t sound as appealing as it once did.

  I groan at my own thoughts, which are clearly the nature of attending events like this one. Romance is in the air, thanks to the bride and groom, who are making their entrance to the tune of “Stand By You” by Rachel Platten. Bright smiles light up their entire beings as they squeeze the other’s hand and wave at the hooting and hollering guests.

  Chloe and Gavin’s love is one their friends clearly root hard for, and today is sure to be one hell of a celebration. That’s exactly what ensues.

  Guests start to line up for their food. An adorable little girl with long red hair and freckles on both cheeks starts to bust a move on the dance floor. The bride and groom greet guests who stand in a line to offer their sentiments. And the bar becomes more and more crowded as the night goes on.

  When it comes time for the first dance, all the chaos and excitement morph into a beautiful silence that follows the newly married couple out onto the empty dance floor. A spotlight hits them, and the music starts. The song, according to the wedding program, is “Never Stop” by Safety Suit.

  Gavin leads Chloe in small steps around the floor, twirling her every now and then before bringing her back into his arms and planting a sweet kiss on her lips. All eyes in the reception space are on them. Tears are falling, hands are clutching, and when I glance over at the long table where Maggie is sitting beside Zach, I have the distinct need to join them. Instead, I keep myself busy, checking on the food and keeping everything hot for the guests.