* * *
After signing her life away, and giddily watching them sack up her new things, Jemma somehow made it to her car. Her brain flipped between the excitement of new equipment and the conflicting emotions of the wedding she'd just agreed to photograph. She drove the short distance to her apartment, parked her car, and climbed the stairs in a near zombie state. She laid her things on the couch and flung herself onto her bed, bouncing twice before coming to rest. Her thoughts switched to the next day's task of calling the bride.
How in the heck am I gonna handle this one?
Jemma guessed Kate had no knowledge of her and Dalton's prior relationship. Jemma's alter egos began a boxing match. Her professional, common sense side—which her mother nurtured—would keep her word and follow through with everything she'd promised on the phone. She would call, make the arrangements, show up for the wedding, take the photos, refrain from killing Dalton, and all would be great in the world. However, her father had also had a hand in raising her. The side he'd instilled would follow through with everything else, but lie in wait for the perfect moment to cause the most chaos, ruining the wedding after Kate's daddy-dearest forked out all of his cash. Either way, she'd get the money to pay off her equipment.
Silver lining?
"Mikey's right; I am psychotic." Jemma's voice echoed off of her high ceiling.
At least both sides agreed to make the phone call in the morning. The rest could be decided after the shock wore off.
MY EX-BOYFRIEND'S WEDDING
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