“Dad, you don’t understand. I told Drew the whole story. He knows about the feuding between our families. You’re telling me now that was all pure nonsense?”
“Yep.”
“I made a fool of myself.”
“Yep.” My father sighed. “You wouldn’t be the first person in the family to do that. But if it’s any consolation, the Kincaids and the McDermotts are feuding now. At least, their businesses are. That’s got to count for something, right? Though, to be honest, you and Drew looked pretty friendly at the party the other night. Not quite the cutthroat competitors I’d expected to see.”
“Right.”
He’s a great guy. A great guy who isn’t my clan’s mortal enemy.
I couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief as I realized the warring between the clans had never taken place. I didn’t have to wield my sword or pretend to be strong when I felt like Jell-O on the inside.
Thinking of feeling weak reminded me of the situation with Sierra. Nausea gripped me again as I stared at the envelope on my desk, the one containing the papers.
Before hanging up, my father promised to pray for me, but he offered me the same sage advice I’d already received from Scarlet: “Don’t sign that addendum.”
“Trust me, I won’t. It’s too late, anyway.” I glanced at the clock and sighed. “The deadline has passed.”
“God has a plan.” Dad’s words were tinged with hopefulness. I latched on to it and tried to smile.
“I’m counting on it.”
After ending the call, I decided to call Bella. She didn’t answer, so I left a message, letting her know we needed to talk. Maybe I should just take a chance and drive over to Club Wed. Meet with her in person. Yes, handling this like a pro was the only thing that made sense.
Courage firmly in place and papers now in hand, I headed to my car. I pulled onto the Strand and turned on a side street, headed toward Broadway. As I drove past Drew’s studio, my heart rate picked up. I stared at the sign on his front window, and something occurred to me. I could trust Drew Kincaid with this problem. He wouldn’t use it to hurt me. In fact, he might just have the answers I needed.
I tapped the brakes, put on my signal, and turned into his parking lot, my heart in my throat. After checking my appearance in the rearview mirror, I got out of the car and walked to the front door of his studio. I’d just reached for the knob when the door swung open and a stream of customers came flooding out. Perfect timing.
I waited until they passed, then noticed Drew standing at the back of the pack, his hair ruffled by the breeze and drops of moisture clinging to his damp forehead. One lock of hair fell forward onto his face.
He glanced my way, clearly surprised by my unexpected arrival. “Hannah.”
“Drew.” I waited until he said his goodbyes to his clients, then took a step inside the studio door. “Do you have a few minutes?”
“Sure.” He placed his hand on my arm and smiled. “Always happy to see you.”
His words gave me the courage I needed.
“Hope you’ll forgive the way I look. I’ve been back in my studio, and it’s hot back there. I’ve been having so much trouble with the heater. Either it doesn’t work at all or it heats the place up like an oven.”
He led the way through the front office to a tiny room in the back, where he’d set up a small desk and computer. Not quite what I’d pictured, to be honest. Still, I didn’t have time to focus on that right now.
“So, what’s up?” he asked as we entered the tiny, cluttered office space, loaded on every side with filing cabinets.
“It’s more a case of what’s down.” I leaned against his desk and sighed. “Or, who’s down. And that would be me.”
“You’re down?” He took my hand. “Why?”
“Sierra Caswell.”
A hint of a smile graced his face. “Well, at least you didn’t say Jacquie Goldfarb this time.”
“True. It’s Sierra Caswell all the way. There’s something I have to tell you. I . . . I can’t photograph her wedding.”
“What? You’re serious?” He didn’t look convinced.
“I am. Wish I wasn’t. Something has happened and I need your help. But let me just say up front that you’re probably going to end up shooting her wedding.”
“Me?” He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “I never wanted that gig.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I’m not keen on superstars. They’re too much to handle. Give me the ordinary people any day.”
“Well, these folks are anything but ordinary, trust me.”
“No doubt. Fill me in, Hannah. I want to help.”
I was sure he did indeed want to help. Sinking into the chair in front of his desk, I poured out the story. I shared every available detail, adding more emotion than necessary, perhaps, but giving him the whole picture. The whole, ugly picture. I told him about the conversations I’d had with Sierra and the addendum I’d received. I shared with great passion all of my reasons for not signing.
Afterward, I stared into Drew’s eyes—eyes filled with compassion—and released a deep sigh. “So, there you have it. I’m finished. Finito.”
“So you speak Italian now?”
“Yes. If it means Sierra Caswell will disappear from my life altogether, I will say it in French or Thai or even Swahili.”
“Wow.” Drew’s gaze narrowed. “This is serious. You’re changing languages.”
“And homes, if she comes looking for me.” My nerves almost got the better of me as I thought about the possibilities of that actually happening. “Do you happen to know any place where I could crash for a few days? Someplace where they won’t find me? Do you have a spare room, maybe?”
“Be serious. You don’t really think she’s going to come looking for you.”
“No. She’ll send George.”
“George?”
“Her publicist. Did I forget to mention his name? He’s the one who sent the addendum that I refused to sign, so he’s the one they’ll send. And it won’t be pretty when he arrives. There might be attorneys involved. Well, if what he said was true, anyway. The man knows how to threaten a girl, that’s for sure.”
“That’s nuts. You didn’t sign the addendum, did you?”
“No.”
His expression tightened. “Then you’re only liable for what you did sign. They’re manipulating you, Hannah. You can’t fall for it.”
“Too late.”
“It’s never too late.” Drew took a seat behind his desk, suddenly all business. “Do you mind if I . . . I mean, would you feel comfortable having me . . .”
“Look over the contract?” I would never have considered such a thing before, what with Drew being my Jacquie Goldfarb and all, but right now the idea made perfect sense. If anyone would understand my dilemma, a fellow professional would.
I reached for my bag and pulled out the envelope that contained the papers. Drew opened it and took his time looking over the papers, making comments along the way.
“Okay, see right there?” He pointed to the third paragraph of the original contract, the one I’d signed ages ago. “This contract protects not only Sierra and George, but you too.”
“O-oh?”
“Yep. That’s why they’re so keen on getting you to sign the addendum. It adds a clause where you agree not to hold them liable. See the difference?” He pointed to the addendum. “In fact, it says just the opposite. They’re trying to protect themselves, plain and simple, but apparently they don’t give a rip about you.”
I read it and pursed my lips. “Right. Well, I’m not signing.”
“Don’t. They’ve already got a signed contract. You’re doing the pictures for the wedding.”
“I told you, I don’t want to. And I didn’t sign the addendum, so I’m out. I missed the deadline.”
“Wrong. It doesn’t matter. You are still under contract to do the wedding, and they can’t say otherwise. You’re obligated to, in fact. R
ead the original contract again. You’re the photographer for Sierra Caswell’s wedding. Signed in ink, no less.”
He grinned, but I didn’t feel like joining him in the celebration. In fact, I felt nauseous just thinking about it. I glanced at Drew’s desk, noticing a familiar glass-domed cake plate. Inside the dome, dozens of lovely little cake balls just waited for me to grab them.
Really, Scarlet? You’ve already stopped by with cake samples?
Then again, who could blame the girl for trying? Ready to pacify myself with a nibble of Italian cream cake, I reached for the dome lid.
Drew’s words stopped me cold. “I’ll help you, Hannah.”
“You . . . you will?” I pulled my hand away from the cake, intrigued by his offer.
“Under one condition. We have to get them to agree to play fair. You won’t sign the addendum, but you will agree to perform your duties as originally agreed upon. I’ll act as your assistant. They’ll have to clear me to do so, but I’m sure they will, especially if Sierra has already mentioned me by name. We’ll get some great shots and turn them in, just like they asked.”
“But don’t you see? They’ll still release them to the media. And doing so will ruin my business.” I eyed the cake once again, temptation setting in. I could probably eat five or six in one sitting. Then I’d feel better about all of this. Maybe.
“No it won’t. If you don’t sign the addendum, it doesn’t matter. It’s just their word against yours. I’m telling you, Hannah, the original contract protects you on every level.”
“You’re sure?”
“More than sure. But I’ll have my attorney look it over if you like. He’s really savvy, and I know he wouldn’t charge me to glance at it.” Drew’s lips turned up in a delicious smile as he rose from his chair and stepped in my direction. “He’s my cousin. A good Oirish boy named Kincaid.”
“A good Oirish boy, eh?” Suddenly my spirits lifted. I rose and found myself standing near—very near—the only Irishman of interest at the moment. Who needed cake to feel better when I had something far more delicious standing in front of me?
“I promise, Hannah. We might be Kincaids. We might be mortal enemies. But we won’t let you down.”
“Oy. Speaking of which . . .” Time to come clean. My heart began to pound in my ears. “That whole story I told you about the McDermotts and Kincaids?”
“The bloody battles? The fighting and feuding?” He took a warrior’s stance and then laughed.
“Yeah, well, about that . . . turns out it was all a lie.” I looked at the floor. “A story my dad made up.”
“Really?” Drew came close and slipped his arm around my waist. A tingle ran through me as he whispered, “So, you’re saying there’s no bad blood between us? Nothing to divide us—past, present, or future?”
“N-no.”
“Well, that’s good to know. Best news I’ve had all day, in fact.” He pulled me close.
I tilted my gaze upward and stared into those gorgeous blue eyes, my pulse racing. With gentle fingertips, he cupped my chin and searched my upturned face, his eyes no longer teasing but filled with hope and longing.
In that instant, every bit of angst I’d ever felt—every twinge of jealousy toward Jacquie Goldfarb or any other—melted away in the joy of this moment. His lips met mine for a kiss that would’ve made for a perfect photograph, had we cared to capture it.
As the kiss deepened, as the sparks between us began to fly, the words to one of Grandpa Aengus’s familiar little ditties went tearing through my brain. I couldn’t help my giggles. Drew stopped kissing me and quirked a brow.
“Never knew I had that effect on a woman,” he said. “Would’ve kissed you sooner if I’d known it would bring a smile to your face.”
Oh, it brought a smile to my face, all right. My laughter started again, but I didn’t bother to stop it. How could I? Had this ridiculously awful day really ended here—in this glorious place? If so, what had I ever done to deserve it?
Hannah Grace, full of grace and truth.
Where the thought came from, I could not say.
Drew ran his finger along my cheek, sending a tingle through me until I got my emotions under control. Then, with upturned face, I planted a kiss on the boy sure to end any and all feuding . . . forever.
19
The Merry-Go-Run-Around
There was an old fellow at Trinity
Who solved the square root of infinity.
But it gave him such fidgets
To count up the digits
That he dropped math and took up divinity.
Irish limerick
All my life I’d made fun of those stupid romance movies—the ones with the heroine who swooned when the hunky hero pulled her into his arms. Still, as Drew planted half a dozen tiny kisses along my hairline, as he held me close, I reconsidered my position on swooning.
Or, rather, it reconsidered its position on me. For swoon I did.
About halfway into the second swoon my cell phone rang. Until the little “Danny Boy” ditty sounded, I’d almost forgotten about the whole situation with Sierra Caswell. I pulled the phone from my purse, and my heart sailed into my throat.
Bella.
I turned the phone so that Drew could see, and he nodded. “Answer it. You need to tell her.”
I’d barely had time for a hello when Bella’s anxious voice greeted me. “Hannah?”
“Yes, I—”
“I just had a call from George. You decided not to go ahead with the shoot for sure?”
“Well, actually—”
“I knew you were thinking about it, of course.”
“Well, I tried to ca—”
“You should have told me. He said you didn’t get the addendum signed in time. He’s going to go with another photographer.”
Finally gathering my wits about me, I tried to explain. “Bella, I called and left a message. And I was on my way to your place just now but got . . .” I gazed into Drew’s dazzling blue eyes and fought the temptation to sigh aloud. “Distracted.” Oh, but what a heavenly distraction.
Drew planted a couple of little kisses on my cheek, and I felt my face grow warm.
“You’re coming now?” Bella’s voice interrupted our little moment.
“Yes.” Taking a step back from Drew, I attempted to gather my thoughts once again. We still had a battle to fight, a war to win. I’d wield my bloody sword, I’d . . . “I’ve got the contract, the addendum, and all of the emails that have gone back and forth between us. You can look over all of them if you like. I have no secrets.” Well, other than the one in my arms right now.
“Just so you know, George and Sierra have already asked for Drew by name. So that’s the plan, I guess. He’ll be the one shooting the wedding.”
I put my hand over the phone and whispered, “Sierra has asked for you.”
Drew shook his head and extended his hand toward my phone, which I placed in his palm. He spoke with a firm voice. “Bella, you can tell them I won’t do it, at least not without Hannah. I won’t sign that addendum either. No professional would. It’s completely irresponsible. Of course, an attorney could give us more detail, but I wouldn’t advise my worst enemy to sign that, let alone someone I care about.”
As he said the words “care about,” he glanced my way and winked. My heart fluttered into my throat. Oh, how lovely it felt to have someone link arms with me. Someone to fight alongside me.
I couldn’t hear the conversation from her end, but I tried to read Drew’s expressions as he and Bella went back and forth. His arguments, unlike my own, were spoken with a steady, unemotional voice.
How does he do that?
Eventually he passed the phone back to me. I put it to my ear but kept a watchful gaze on Drew.
“Man. This is a mess.” Bella sounded worn down. I didn’t blame her. I felt that way too. Or at least I had until Drew kissed my troubles away.
“But the mess isn’t on our end, Bella.” I tried to sound as c
onfident as Drew had. “And it’s not our fault. What they’re asking us to do isn’t doable. They can try all day—all week, for that matter—but they’re not going to find a photographer willing to sign his or her life away. Or career, I mean.”
“Still, this fiasco involves Club Wed, so I’m caught up in it, whether I want to be or not. You know George. He’s . . . well, I hate to admit it, but his conversation almost sounded like a threat.”
“His . . . what?”
“Yes.”
I heard the catch in her voice and realized she was really nervous. Ugh. Just what I’d been afraid of.
“I can’t even imagine what’s going to happen when Sierra finds out,” Bella continued. “George says that her reaction could force him to take action against all of us. These are powerful people. I’m trying not to get frightened, but I have to admit this one’s thrown me for a loop.”
At once I slipped off into what I liked to call the white zone, that hazy place where nothing makes sense. “But why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“He holds me responsible. I’m the one who recommended you.”
“R-right.” For a moment I felt fear snake its way down my spine. Just as quickly I squared my shoulders and got back to business. So what if the McDermotts of yesteryear ran like cowards at the first sign of trouble? I didn’t have to take after them, now did I?
“He’s full of hot air,” I said. “And besides, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. The reason no other photographer is free to shoot the wedding is because I’m still legally bound by the original contract.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Pretty sure, anyway.” I glanced at Drew, who nodded. “Not signing the addendum doesn’t make the original null and void. It just means that they can’t hold me liable should the photos get leaked.”
“Okay.” She paused. “Well, that’s a horse of a different color. But I’m still conflicted. And a little confused, to be honest.”
“I think this is going to end well, Bella,” I said. “I really believe that.”
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