No such luck.
The music blared from the organ, catching Jemma off guard. She made her way to the back of the church to snap a few photos of the bridesmaids, and then Kate and her father as they made their grand entrance. The doors swung open, each girl forcing a smile to their faces that never quite reached their eyes. Jemma snapped a picture of each one, decked out in their bright yellow, puffy sleeved monstrosity of a dress they'd never be caught dead in out in public. When Kate and her father appeared, the wedding march blared and people stood, looking back toward them. Jemma gasped out loud at the sight of Kate's face plastered with makeup, obviously an attempt to hide the puffy redness around her eyes.
Well, she must've heard the lies, and probably worse as Dalton embellished even more to save his own ass. The granddaddy of all fake smiles graced Kate's face, complete with bared teeth. But her eyes held all of her anguish, glaring daggers at Jemma. Her father's looks weren't much kinder. Jemma decided against any close-ups and scurried up the stairs to the safety of the balcony. She watched Dalton, his three best drinking buddies, and Tony fidgeting at the altar.
She clicked off pictures of all of them, her main focus on how handsome Tony looked in his tuxedo. His dark hair and tanned complexion contrasted nicely to the white shirt and yellow accessories.
The bridesmaids and Maid of Honor took their places on the steps, stepping carefully alongside the satin runner. Kate and her father made their way to the altar, everyone turning as they passed by. Jemma snapped the usual pictures of the happy faces, the tears sliding down the cheeks of the mother of the bride, and even Dalton's parents. It surprised her they had made amends long enough to sit in the same pew, and that Dalton's dad was out of the pen. But, there they stood, as far away from each other as they could, without completely crowding everyone else out. His mother even seemed sober for a change.
Jemma turned and snapped a picture of her brother for her personal album. He was leaning against the rear wall of the church, arms folded, glaring at Dalton. She could almost read his thoughts. It was a good thing for her ex that there were too many witnesses.
The wedding proceeded with the father giving the bride's hand to the groom, but Mr. McCallister's set jaw and forced smile spoke volumes. Kate's face softened, and she knowingly patted his hand. She kissed his cheek and turned to flash the evil bared-teeth smile at her future husband. Dalton grabbed Kate's left hand in his, while burying his right in his pocket. Dropping his head, he stared at the floor as though ashamed.
Jemma fought the urge to clap and yell bravo. After all she'd witnessed that day, his acting skills were improving. She forced herself back to her job, making the pictures as presentable as she could with the mixed up, messed up wedding from hell. When the minister asked if anyone knew reasons why they shouldn't be joined in holy matrimony, Jemma even held her peace. It took a bit of tongue biting, but she managed.
Zooming in on Dalton's face as he said his vows, she watched a single tear slide down his cheek.
Click!
That was definitely one for the keeper pile. In the time Jemma had known him, not one tear was shed, not for anything. She flip-flopped between knowing he was full of crap, to wondering if he really did love his wife-to-be. Kate's features softened as she wiped the tear from his face, crying along with him.
Jemma snapped off picture after picture of this scene. Kate, moved by Dalton's show of emotion, gripped his hand with both of hers. A brilliant smile replaced the forced snarl and brought back her natural beauty. She wasn't quite sure why it had mattered before, but with them being happy, only Tony's opinion of her mattered anymore.
The last few pictures of the ceremony were taken as the minister pronounced them husband and wife and introduced them to the congregation. The bridal party paired off, following them down the aisle, looking like a giant bumblebee in their yellow and black attire. Everyone finally looked genuinely happy.
Smiling to herself, Jemma made her way down the stairs with her camera and tripod to get some candid shots of the receiving line and hopefully catch Tony before they went in to take the group photos.
Another swing and a miss.
The line was long and drawn out. Jemma found herself forced back into the church after being crowded out by many well-meaning family members, no doubt saving Dalton and Kate from the home-wrecking whore. She forced herself into professional mode, attempting to block out all the glares and not so hushed whispers, to fulfill her contract and get the still shots done. All without having a nervous breakdown.
That would have to wait until after she got home.
Proficiently, she shouted out orders for poses so she could be heard above the chatter. Jemma's heart sank to her stomach as Tony turned a wary eye toward her, only smiling when she told them to.
Damn you, Dalton, all to hell.
Wrapping things up, she said, "I think we have plenty of beautiful pictures to choose from now. Thank you all for being so easy to work with."
All of the bridesmaids spun toward her in unison, glaring. Jemma crossed her arms over her chest, returning the contempt, half expecting to see their heads spinning and spewing green gunk. Evil didn't even begin to cover the looks. She watched as they filed from the church, traipsing across the lot to the fellowship hall, where the reception was already in progress. Tony lagged to the end of the line, occasionally glancing in her direction.
As he grabbed the door handle, she shouted from the altar, "Can I talk to you before you go over there, please?" Desperation crackled her voice.
He stopped and turned back toward her, pain wrinkling his forehead, doubt clouding his eyes. Kate's mom grabbed his arm, sparking a hateful glare at Jemma, and tugged him out the door. A tear traced its way down Jemma's cheek as she watched him being dragged across the lot.
Dalton and Kate were the last to leave, stopping halfway down the aisle to embrace. He shifted just enough to make eye contact with Jemma over Kate's shoulder. He blew her a kiss and winked before leading his bride out the door.
Jemma forced herself to stand tall, lift her chin, and concentrate on gathering up her equipment.
"Hey," her brother whispered, appearing from the shadows, dropping a hand on her arm.
She turned toward him, shoulders slumping, resting her head on his chest. "Mikey, I…"
He pulled her into his embrace. "I know, Sis."
Tears flooded her eyes, and she melted into his hug, going limp in his arms. Her head spun in a wild mix of hurt, betrayal, and loss, but most of all, her heart just plain ached.
Mikey stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth gently. "What can I do to help? Anything, just ask and I'll do it. I can call Dad, and he'll take care of the bastard."
Jemma leaned back, smiling through her tears. Mikey caused her tons of grief, but he never failed to be there for her when she needed him. "This is his wedding day. You saw him crying up there, didn't you? Maybe he really does love Kate, and I'm being used to take the focus off of Stacy. I just want to make sure Tony knows the truth. Can you get him to talk to me? All I need is a few minutes alone with him to plead my case and tell him the real story." She shook, desperation taking over every cell of her body.
He cupped her face, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "I'll do what I can. You get your camera over there, and I'll play interference. Surely if we work together, we can get him alone somewhere."
Jemma dropped her forehead onto her brother's chest and inhaled a deep breath. She slowly let it out, reaching deep inside herself to find the strength to finish what she'd started. "Thank you, Mikey."
"Hey, can you call me Mike in front of these guys, please?"
"Wow, a formal greeting earlier and now this? What's the special occasion?" Jemma snorted and then inhaled sharply to clear her nose.
"Gee, that was sexy." Mikey placed a kiss on his sister's forehead. "Go get 'em, tiger. Little Ant'ny is waiting for you." Punching her on the shoulder garnered him a well-deserved glare.
* * *
Af
ter locking all of her other equipment in her trunk, Jemma walked into the reception hall. Glancing around the room for Tony, she spied him at the end of the bridal party table, leaning against the wall. Her heart fluttered as he acknowledged her with a subtle wave. She pushed her way through the crowd, greeted by intermingling snarls and glares. Dalton's best man played interference, stepping in Tony's line of sight, obviously striking up a conversation. A fortified wall of people slowly formed around them. All facing her, they did everything shy of linking arms and growling at her.
Everyone not included in the stronghold suddenly needed a special photo taken of their family for Kate and Dalton to know they were all there. Jemma sighed and obliged them all.
Clink-clink-clink!
"May I have your attention, please?" The best man had returned to his spot next to Dalton, lifting his champagne glass for a toast. Jemma walked toward him to find a good angle and lighting. "Dalton Octavius Blackwell has been my friend since grade school."
Jemma's free hand popped to her gaping mouth, fully understanding why he'd never told her what his middle initial stood for.
His best man continued, "We've been through tough times, good times, and even a few fuzzy times together." Laughter erupted throughout the room. "I've witnessed his relationships come and go…"
Looking around the room, most heads turned her way. Curling up in a ball was out of the question, so she straightened her posture and pushed her camera back in front of her face.
Click.
"But, I've never seen him in love. Not like this. Kate is the best thing that's ever happened to Dalton."
The entire crowd uttered 'aw' simultaneously.
"I wish them much luck, much love, and above all, happiness which knows no bounds." He raised his glass in the air, and cheers of "here, here" echoed through the crowd.
Jemma snapped off a picture of the best man drinking to his toast and caught Dalton with yet another tear sliding down his cheek. Her hatred toward him eased slightly, witnessing his obvious regret. Okay, so her hated toward him still burned with the fire of a thousand suns, but at least she didn't feel quite as sorry for Kate.
Jemma scurried over to the cake, taking pictures of the happy couple cutting the bottom layer of the massive, five-storied confection. When they fed each other a small piece, they turned to grin into the camera. Dalton seemed about as sincere as he was capable of.
The lights dimmed. Jemma was grateful for the opportunity to finally blend into the shadows. Soft music filled the room, bringing the crowds chattering to a minimum.
"This first song is for the bride and groom only," the DJ said, his voice smooth and mellow. "Please clear the floor."
Dalton offered a hand to Kate, and she beamed, accepting it. He spun her onto the dance floor and back into his arms. Jemma snapped pictures, her flash breaking through the darkened room, again calling attention to her. The father and daughter dance followed, and Mr. McCallister proudly cut in. After several more pictures, Jemma worked her way out of the crowd. She leaned against the back wall near the punch bowl, blending into the darkest shadows. She felt her body relax for the first time in days.
It was short lived.
Dalton's coarse whisper sliced through her calm. "Hey, man, thanks for the tip. It worked like a charm."
Jemma slid around the side of the pillar, peeking back around to hear the rest of the conversation. She could barely make out Dalton and his best man ladling punch into their glasses.
"No problem," his best man offered, slapping him on the shoulder. "I could tell you needed back in Kate's good graces. Sticking my hand in my pocket and grabbing a couple of short hairs always made my eyes water and got me out of many tight spots with my old lady. I figured it'd work for you, too. Glad I could help."
Blood boiling near stroke level, she carefully planned out her choice words while attempting to calm down. The last thing she needed was a heated screaming match, calling even more attention to her. A bright pink sparkle caught her eye before she could make her move. Craning her neck around the pillar, she saw Stacy peeking through a hall door, waving madly in Dalton's direction. Subtle as a room full of cats in heat, she was dressed in a pink sequined mini skirt. Jemma doubted anyone had ever accused her of being smart.
"Dude." Dalton's best man elbowed him in the ribs and shoved him in her direction, leaving to mingle with his friends.
She held a lot of power in her hands, literally. Glancing down at her camera cradled in her palms, she released a wicked cackle. The older couple now at the punch bowl formed nervous smiles, slowly backing away from her.
She stayed out of sight, forming herself against the wall until she heard the hall door shut. Slinking quietly along until she hit the doorway, she followed Dalton and Stacy into the abandoned hallway. Jemma kept her hand on the door, letting it slowly close without a sound. At the end of the hall, she watched as Stacy yanked him by the front of his shirt into her arms and attempted to suck the lips from his face. The moment was entirely too good for Jemma to pass up.
Click!
The soft sound filled the quiet hall. Dalton shoved Stacy away, and she stumbled backward, slamming into the wall. They both spun toward Jemma, the source of the sound.
"Jem? Is that you?" he asked, his eyes wide as he slowly walked her way.
"Were you expecting your wife instead?" Jemma snorted, stepping from the shadows.
He shook his head emphatically as he shoved Stacy around the corner, out of sight. "Let it go. Showing that picture to Kate won't do anything except hurt people." Walking slowly toward her, he reached for the camera.
She clutched it to her chest with both hands. "Really? That's funny, because I already feel better, and I haven't even printed it yet." Jemma patted her camera and sighed in contentment, playfully batting her eyelashes.
Dalton snarled and stomped the rest of the way, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen, we're about to get something straight here."
He dropped his hands abruptly to her elbows, his eyes looking over Jemma's shoulder to somewhere behind her. He pulled Jemma next to him, curling an arm around her waist.
Jemma was stunned, confused about his complete turnaround. "What the…"
He slipped a finger to her lips, his touch soft and gentle, as he trailed his thumb along her jaw line. "This is my wedding day, Jem." He looked deeply into her eyes, the loving gaze she'd seen many times before. "But, if that's what you want, I'll grant you one last kiss." His lips touched hers before she had time to think, his free hand tangled in her hair, keeping her from pulling away. She wedged her hands between them, shoving as hard as she could against his chest, struggling against his kiss. He pressed her so tightly to him that her camera dug into her hip. Finally, he released her.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, trying to wrap her head around the past few minutes.
He glanced past her again, a look of terror morphing his features. "Tony? What are you doing here?"
The whole scene finally clicked into place. Jemma turned around in one slow, deliberate movement. Her stomach clenched, the urge to throw-up almost overpowering her. Mostly from what she was sure Tony thought, but partly due to the fact that she'd let it happen. Well, and the kiss itself. She shuddered.
Tony stood less than three feet from her, his eyes blazing with hurt, his jaw clenched in anger. "Kate's mom tried to tell me…" He paused, eyes searching her face. "Hell, everyone at the wedding knew what was going on, but I couldn't believe it." He paced back and forth between her and the door. Several times his hand touched the handle. His lip twitched, brow furrowed in anger, he drew back and punched the door, leaving an impressive dent. Turning back around, he crept toward her. "Until now, until I saw it with my own eyes. I thought we were starting something different, something special. How could I be this wrong?"
Jemma pled with him, "You weren't wrong about your feelings, just about what is going on here!" Tony's face still held the same hurt, so Jemma pressed on, "There is nothing between
me and Dalton. This isn't what it looked like. He's twisting everything out of proportion."
"So you have never dated Dalton?"
"We dated, but…"
Tony snorted in disgust. "And I didn't just walk out here and catch you two kissing?"
"It isn't like that! Please, let me explain." Jemma walked over to him, reaching for his hand, but he yanked it away.
Dalton barged into the conversation. "Jem, you might want to try sounding a little less on the desperate side."
She turned, glaring at him. So much hate, so much loathing, she briefly contemplated her odds in court for manslaughter. "Go to hell, Dalton."
A woman screaming inside the reception turned their attention toward the door. A distant voice trailed into the hallway. "Kate's collapsed. Someone call 911!"
The hate fell from Tony's face, replaced with wide eyed concern. He spun on his heels and ran back into the reception. Dalton, on the other hand, stood smirking at Jemma, hands crossed over his puffed chest.
Jemma snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey there, slick, I believe they said your wife collapsed. Shouldn't you be in there yanking a few more pubic hairs so you can feign a little concern?" The extreme hatred for him was almost palatable. He didn't flinch; he just continued that creepy smile. "Well?"
"Hmm, first you follow me into the hall; now, I find out you've been listening to my conversations. Seems you really do have unresolved feelings for me." Waggling his well plucked brow, Dalton sauntered casually toward the door to the reception. He stopped and inhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders and tossing his head back and forth a few times. Finally, he swung the door open and yelled, "Dear God, no! Kate, I'm on my way, sweetheart!"
My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding Page 9
