by Anders Grey
Despite my crappy mood, I felt a swell of affection for Damian. “Thanks for trying anyway. I really do appreciate it. Seriously, you didn’t have to go through all that effort for my sake when I’m practically a stranger. Especially since you’re apparently a celebrity.”
Damian let out a laugh. “You finally figured it out, huh? Too bad. I liked it better when you just thought I was some random guy who was willing to help you out on your wild misadventure.”
I smiled. “You’ll always be a random guy to me.”
To my surprise, Damian leaned in to give me a quick hug. I patted him on the back, a bit embarrassed. His bodyguard glared at me like I was a piece of soggy toast.
Damian sighed. “Well, what’re you gonna do now?”
“There’s nothing I can do, except watch this wedding happen,” I said, shrugging.
I had no evidence. Mark the cheater was going to marry Tiffany. It was like trying desperately to cup water in my hands only for it to fall away no matter what I did to hold it in place.
Damian grunted in frustration and crossed his arms. “Can’t your boyfriend do something? I mean, I saw that fancy camera bag he had on him. If anyone could take a decent shot of the cheaters in action, it’d be him.”
I bristled at the mention of Alec. “No, he can’t. He left this morning and he’s not coming back.”
“Left?”
I didn’t want to talk about it again, but I owed Damian an explanation after all he’d done for me. “Alec had a flight. He ditched me and apparently didn’t even care enough about me to say goodbye.”
“What?” Damian shrieked. Seeing the shock and anger on his face made me feel vindicated. Hell, even Damian’s bodyguard raised a brow. At least I knew I wasn’t overreacting. “He can’t do that!”
“Well, he did.”
Damian growled. “Douche.”
The bodyguard checked his expensive watch, then put his hand firmly on Damian’s shoulder. “Sir, your recording session starts in thirty minutes. We need to leave now to be on time.”
With a dramatic groan, Damian swatted his hand away. “Damnit. Fine.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Rowan. I wish I could help more.”
I nodded numbly. The bodyguard moved around Damian like he was trying to herd a cat and ushered him towards the parking lot.
With Damian gone, I felt utterly alone. Defeated and exhausted from my frayed nerves, I trudged back towards the gazebo and the rest of the crowd. On the way I passed by the same gardenia bush that Alec had asked me to pose in front of yesterday. I paused, letting myself feel a surge of bittersweet emotion before forcing it away.
Get over Alec, I told myself, because he’s not fucking coming back.
As if I wasn’t annoyed enough, Mark suddenly walked up to me. I stopped and frowned at him, hoping my expression made it clear that I wanted to kick him in the nuts, and the only thing stopping me from doing it was Tiffany’s presence twenty feet away.
“Yes?” I ground out.
Mark smiled, but it wasn’t a kind one. It was cold, ruthless, and arrogant, as if he and Kyle were starting to meld into one mega-douchebag.
“Where’s Alec?” Mark asked.
I flinched. “He’s not here.”
“I can see that,” Mark said mildly. “I’m surprised he’s not with you. You two seem to be glued at the hip lately.”
“Well, we’re not anymore,” I snapped.
“Let me guess. Alec ran away.”
The breath caught in my throat. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but it was too late. Mark’s eyes flickered. He already knew he was right.
“Well?” he prompted.
I felt like a failure. Shame washed over me, and suddenly I felt like a child being scolded by the teacher in front of the whole class.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
Mark clicked his tongue and shook his head in a show of hollow sympathy. “That’s a shame, but I’m not surprised. He was always flighty. Restless. Couldn’t stay in the same place for long.”
Before, I would’ve wanted to punch Mark. I knew what he’d done to Alec, and I hated him for it. But right now, every word out of his mouth sounded like the truth—a salve on my misery. My aching heart longed to agree with him, to hear him talk more about Alec’s shortcomings, like if I heard enough then I could convince myself it was Alec’s fault and not mine he disappeared.
Mark lowered his voice. “I hope this means you’ve given up your little detective game.”
I glared at him. He was going to win, and I hated it.
Eat shit, you colossal dick.
My fists clenched, my nails digging into my skin in frustration. Was there really nothing I could do.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mark went on smugly. “Good thing, too. I wouldn’t want you to ruin the best day of Tiffany’s life.”
A familiar voice came from behind the gardenia bush. “He won’t ruin it. But I will.”
32
Alec
Last night I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to spend the small morning hours with Rowan, just enjoying each other’s presence. But sex had exhausted us, and we fell asleep curled up together.
And that’s when I realized I had to leave the hotel.
I cast an affectionate glance at Rowan, smiled at the sleep-softness of his pink cheeks and parted lips, then crawled as quietly out of bed as possible. I didn’t want him to wake.
I just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he realized I wasn’t here in the morning.
It was a quiet dawn. Dim morning light had just started to hit the other side of the heavy hotel curtains. Careful to be silent, I picked up my belongings and stood by the door. But bringing myself to grab the handle and leave the room was suddenly the most difficult thing I’d ever had to do.
A pang of longing hit me hard as I looked over Rowan’s sleeping form. He looked so small in that giant bed by himself.
Soon, I told myself. Soon this will all be over.
I steeled my nerves, tore my eyes from Rowan, and stepped out of the room, never to return.
My fingers drummed against my camera bag. I scratched at the canvas surface impatiently. Waiting was the worst part of photography, even after years of doing this for a living, but this particular subject was truly testing my patience worse than any animal or scenery.
My legs cramped from kneeling behind the tree line, but I didn’t dare stretch them just in case my subject appeared at the exact moment—which I thought was likely given my crappy luck lately.
This was a long shot and I knew it, but it was my only chance. If this risk didn’t pay off, then—
There.
I sucked in a silent, sharp breath. My body stiffened as I focused on my target, my eyes following him like a hawk hunting a mouse.
I stood, forcing myself to ignore the painful pins-and-needles sensation shooting up my legs. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
I’m a damn good photographer. I can do this.
I stalked my target on silent feet, staying well out of earshot and thanking the small, shadowy patch of woodland to conceal me. As I neared the destination, my blood raced. My heart’s rhythm grew frantic, erratic. The excitement of getting that perfect shot was like a drug to me, and I was so damn close to getting that hit.
I nearly swallowed my own heart when my target paused and looked over his shoulder, checking to see the coast was clear. The sun hadn’t yet fully risen, and he clung to the concrete building, cloaked in shadows. With a final suspicious glance, he slipped behind the corner to where another figure emerged with a pale grin.
I steadied myself. I raised my camera.
I’ve got you now, motherfucker.
For the next few hours, I laid low. As much as I desperately wanted to be with Rowan, I knew it was best if we weren’t seen together. Let them think we’d let the topic die. I just hoped my sudden disappearance hadn’t upset him too badly.
I hunkered down with my laptop, saving multiple copies, blowing up files and even having a couple printed on paper for good measure. I had them now, and there was no way in hell I was letting them get away this time.
I checked the clock. The ceremony was starting in three hours. I grimaced.
Sorry, Tiffany.
I made my way to the venue beforehand, knowing it’d be best if I could catch Tiffany by herself to show her the evidence—although I didn’t know how realistic that was, given that she was probably being waited on hand and foot mere hours before her wedding ceremony.
As I weaved my way through the aisles of flowers, a plane cut through the blue sky overhead. A wry smile tugged at my lips. I wondered if that was the plane I’d missed.
But I wasn’t going to dwell on that now.
Halfway to the gazebo, I stopped.
Mark and Rowan stood ahead of me, talking in hushed tones. Mark practically radiated smugness, while Rowan’s shoulders slumped. He looked utterly defeated. My chest clenched. As I hurriedly approached, I overheard bits of their conversation.
“I hope this means you’ve given up your little detective game.” A pause. “I’ll take that as a yes. Good thing, too. I wouldn’t want you to ruin the best day of Tiffany’s life.”
Anger boiled in my blood—for both Rowan and Tiffany’s sakes. I broke into a run. Mark didn’t look up at me. He was too busy flaunting his superiority over Rowan to notice me.
“He won’t ruin it. But I will,” I called out.
Rowan whipped towards me, his eyes wide. Mark’s jaw dropped and he stared at me stupidly, my sudden appearance knocking him off guard.
“Alec?” Rowan said softly, like he couldn’t believe it.
I gave Rowan a quick reassuring smile that I hoped conveyed my feelings: I’m here now, and I’m sorry I had to leave at all.
“I though you left,” Mark said icily.
“You—you were gone,” Rowan said. “You were supposed to be on a plane!”
I grinned. “I was, wasn’t I?” I winked at him. “I guess I didn’t want to leave when I had so much unfinished business.”
Mark seethed. He turned on his heel. “Whatever. I have to get back to Tiffany.”
“Isn’t it bad luck for a bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony?” I asked loudly. “Not that your relationship needs any more bad luck. In fact, how about something good happens to Tiffany for a change?”
Mark’s brow furrowed. “What are you—"
“Rowan,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “Why don’t you and I have a little chat with your cousin?”
Rowan blinked his curious blue eyes and nodded. I could tell my sudden appearance had thrown him for a loop, but whatever I was doing, he wanted in.
We left a speechless Mark behind us as we headed towards the gazebo where Rowan’s relatives were fawning over Tiffany. She and Rose were sitting down while Rose fussed with her hair, braiding flowers into it. She looked absolutely beautiful in her wedding gown. It was a shame this ceremony was about to go down in flames.
But though fire destroyed, it also rejuvenated. There was no doubt in my mind Tiffany would rise from the ashes of this tragedy like a phoenix, stronger than ever.
“Wait!” Mark barked behind us.
Tiffany’s big smile faded at the edges when she saw us approach, though I didn’t know if it was because she was upset to see us or because Mark’s groomly appearance was breaking tradition.
“Rowan? Alec?” Tiffany asked. She kept a smile glued to her face, but I could tell from the tension in her cheeks that it was forced into existence. “What’s up?”
“We have to talk to you,” I said gently. “Privately.”
Tiffany exchanged a glance with her mother then turned her fragile smile back to us. “If this isn’t important, can it wait until after the ceremony?”
I risked a glance over my shoulder. Mark stood stiffly by the hedges, his fists at his sides, acting like an invisible forcefield was preventing him from approaching.
Or maybe he’s stopped by his own guilt.
I gave Tiffany my best white smile and told her firmly, “It’s important.”
She huffed and rose from her seat. “I’ll be back in a sec, Mom.”
I was massively relieved Tiffany agreed. All three of us ducked behind the gazebo. Tiffany grasped her dress delicately and frowned at us, not bothering to hide her annoyance now that we were out of sight.
“What?” she asked.
This was a bandage that needed to be ripped off. Without a word, I pulled out the print-out image from my pocket and unfolded it before handing it to Tiffany.
My gamble had paid off—I returned to the scene of the crime by retracing our steps to the building where Mark had met someone behind a building in the courtyard. That’s where I caught him and Kyle making out against the brick wall, their last passionate affair before I brought this to light.
Rowan gasped, but Tiffany examined it in silence. I didn’t speak. I waited for her to take it all in.
“Is this what I think it is?” Tiffany asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry, but you needed to know.”
Her expression changed slowly—first to surprise, then twisting into blazing fury. “What the fucking hell?”
Her eyes snapped up to Rowan and then me. For the first time, she didn’t seem angry at us, but finally directed her rage at the correct target.
She inhaled a sharp breath before her voice exploded over the pleasant quiet of the gardens. “MARK! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE, NOW!”
33
Rowan
I found Alec at the fountain taking a break from the chaos that ensued. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to step out for a second. At least there hadn’t been an argument. With irrefutable photographic evidence of his crime laid bare for my entire family to see, Mark didn’t even try to defend himself. After taking a good verbal beating from the scorned and infuriated Tiffany in front of everyone, Mark skulked off with his tail between his legs.
Good riddance.
“Alec,” I said.
He lifted his head and smiled. I noticed the way his eyes lit up when he saw me, and it made my heart skip a beat.
“Hey.” He patted the stone railing next to him. “Come sit with me, if you want.”
I sat, feeling stray droplets from the light spray of the water on the back of my neck.
“Thank you,” I said. “I don’t know how you did it, but you got the proof.”
“It wasn’t easy.” Alec scratched his head. “And it involved a lot of sneaking around that I wish I didn’t have to do—including ditching you in the hotel room without saying anything. But I didn’t want to tell you where I was in case things got messy. Plus, I figured it would keep Mark’s guard down if it looked like we were separated.”
“You’re right. It did,” I admitted. “When he thought you were gone, he got all smug.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “He probably said some nasty things about me, didn’t he?”
I grimaced, then Alec chuckled.
“And you agreed with him, right?”
“Er—”
Alec put his hand on my knee. “It’s okay. It was shitty of me to abandon you, fake or not.” His voice softened. “I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if—”
I cut him off with a kiss. Alec let out a muffled noise of surprise before relaxing and easing into it. He put his hands on my waist, holding me in place so we didn’t tip backwards into the fountain.
A breathless, contented sigh escaped me when we broke apart. The budding warmth in my chest bloomed with every passing second that Alec was here, with me, not on some plane miles above in the sky.
“You were supposed to be on the plane,” I said, still unable to believe Alec was really sitting in front of me and wiping post-make out spit off on his arm. “Won’t your boss get mad?”
Alec’s phone rang. He checked the caller and raised a brow. “Ah. Speak of the
devil.”
He accepted the call with a serene expression, even as his boss began shouting at him. I winced. Harvey was so loud that I heard everything he said.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Alex? I call the airport to make sure you’re on the damn plane, because I had a feeling you were being wishy-washy the other day, and they say you never showed up? You know how many people would kill for this opportunity? You know what? You’re fired! I can get another—”
Alec hung up. My jaw dropped.
“Alec!” I cried.
Alec didn’t look upset at all. He shot me one of his trademark easygoing grins. “What?”
“You just got fired! Aren’t you upset?”
He slunk his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “Rowan, if I was upset about getting fired, I wouldn’t have skipped out on the plane in the first place. Besides, it felt good to finally give Harvey the finger. I mean, I worked for the guy for years, and he couldn’t even get my name right, for god’s sake.”
“But your job…”
“There’s always other jobs.” He smiled. “Ones that don’t involve my asshole boss making me choose between him and the man I love.”
My face turned hot. “Huh?”
“Oh, right.” Alec suddenly reached into his camera bag with enthusiastic purpose. “I have something to give you. Close your eyes.”
Still too flustered by his comment to speak, I shut my eyes without arguing.
“Hold out your hand.”
I opened my palm. A moment later, Alec placed something light and delicate on my hand. It was slightly cool, the texture oddly familiar.
“Open them,” Alec said.
I peeked my eyes open.
Sitting on my palm was a single gardenia flower. I stopped breathing for a moment.
“What was it you said about them again?” Alec asked, sounding like he already knew exactly what I’d said. “That giving a gardenia flower to someone says you think they’re lovely?”
My heart thumped. “Yes.”
