by Alexa Woods
Holy shit, she’s actually attracted to me!
Laney was a photographer with a photographer’s eye. She was probably just looking her over, assessing whether she’d be alright to photograph, what light to use, how to position her, Morgun reasoned with herself. Assessment. Not attraction. But for some reason, Laney’s dark eyes looked even darker. And wider.
Morgun refused to return the favor. She did note that Laney wore a tight black dress that capped her shoulders and fell to her knees. Laney was tall and slender, with rather large boobs and a nice butt for her sleek frame. It made Morgun slightly jealous. Did Laney Sterling have to have the whole package? She was effortlessly beautiful. She’d straightened her sleek black hair and gone for just about no makeup except for scarlet lipstick. She’d paired her dress with sky high pumps that Morgun knew she wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of staying upright in. In short, Laney looked like a freaking model, which only annoyed Morgun because she’d thought so before and she hated to notice.
She hated that twinge in her stomach and her chest which told her that she was, despite herself, attracted. Whatever. She’s beautiful. I can say that with confidence, because beautiful people are usually assholes. That’s just a fact. Everyone knows it. I can notice that she’s pretty. That her body is killer. I can assess her too. I’m also a photographer, whether I make the big bucks like she does, photographing models and expensive buildings or not.
Laney was able to compose herself remarkably quickly. Probably because in her line of work, she was used to wiping all traces of irritation out of her face and voice and being a professional.
“Ready?”
“Obviously,” Morgun snapped. “Or should I have brought something? A gift?”
“No. I have that covered. Obviously.”
So, Laney could give as good as she got. Morgun added it to her growing list of things she knew about Laney Sterling. It was just a list of random facts, not good or bad. She wasn’t intending to use it for any purpose other than the fact that knowing one’s enemy gave one power. The internet said so on one of the revenge lists.
Fuck, am I really that overly nice that I have to look up a list of vengeful things? Maybe that’s pathetic. Maybe it’s not. It’s more admirable to be the nice girl even if you do finish last.
Laney’s car was nice. Obviously. It was a sleek, expensive black sedan that three or four sessions for the right clients could probably pay for. Then again, Laney worked for an agency. Maybe it would take her a while to pay it off, just like everyone else. Morgun wasn’t sure what the position paid. The job advertisement said it was negotiable mixed with commission. That could vary widely.
Morgun slid into the passenger seat as soon as Laney unlocked the doors. She really had locked the car, even though she’d parked, illegally, right in front of the apartment building, right in direct line of sight, thirty some feet away.
Laney knew where she was going and Morgun didn’t see the point of saying anything. She was suddenly nervous but didn’t want to give herself away by asking all the questions running through her mind.
Was the wedding big or small? If they were supposed to be dating, shouldn’t they know something about each other? Laney had said that it was a more casual thing and she didn’t have to try too hard to sell it. Whatever that meant. How many people would she have to meet? Why wasn’t Laney in the wedding party if it was her own brother getting married? Did her sister-in-law hate her that much—she probably had good reason to—or did she just not feel like it and made her wishes clear? When could she go home? When was she going to get her thousand dollars? Chelsea had insisted that she ask for it as a middle finger sort of afterthought.
There were other questions too. Annoying ones. Nagging ones. What did Laney think of the photos she’d sent? Was it good enough to make it in the “big leagues”? What would those contacts think of getting contacted? They were legit. She’d checked. Those were the nagging questions. The annoying ones were the ones where Morgun wanted to ask if Laney had any tips for her or any helpful advice for landing a job and selling herself and her work. She didn’t want to want her advice, helpful or otherwise.
Laney broke the silence first. “I guess I should get your name. That’s probably helpful. I can’t just call you Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498.”
“My name didn’t seem to matter much to you before.”
Laney’s lips pursed. “I know,” she said, sort of apologetically, but not really. “But I should know it now.”
“Morgun,” she said too casually. She wasn’t good at playing too cool for school.
“Okay, Morgun.” Laney took a right-hand corner too sharply. Morgun had to grab for the door handle to keep herself from sliding in the seat. She knew it was intentional. “I want to know how you know me. You said you knew who I was.”
Morgun was right. Laney didn’t recognize her from that interview two years ago when they both sat in the same waiting room. Morgun had gone first. Maybe if she hadn’t, she would have gotten the job instead. She’d speculated about it a million times. What she could have said or done differently. They’d said they liked her portfolio, but she wasn’t experienced enough. What they really meant was that they didn’t like her. That’s the part she hadn’t exactly explained to Chelsea that night when they were sitting side by side at the desk, staring at Laney’s profile.
It was too hurtful to contemplate all the ways you could be not good enough, let alone try to explain it to someone else.
“Who wouldn’t know you? You’re kind of a high-profile photographer. I’m also a photographer. That’s how I knew who you were. I recognized your photo. That’s all.”
“Is that why you messaged me? With the intent of blackmailing me or tricking me into giving you contacts or using me to set up a meeting for you with my employer?”
“No.” Morgun somehow managed to say it with a straight face. “You were the one that started in with the arrangement and exchange of services and money, if I remember correctly. I messaged you because I know you’re beautiful and attractive and I thought we’d have some common interests, given that we both work in the same field.”
“Ha, beautiful,” Laney mimicked like it was the worst kind of insult. She turned to Morgun, but Morgun refused to look at her, even though she felt Laney’s eyes burning straight through the side of her face. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I’m sure anyone else would agree. Outwardly, it’s obvious. Inner beauty? I think that’s lacking. Obviously.”
It was then that Morgun realized that some people liked being perceived as hard or bitchy or uncaring. Or that they just didn’t give a shit what people thought. She wasn’t sure which Laney was, or maybe, surprisingly, she had a good sense of humor, because she just nodded, took another turn too sharply, and gave a confident response.
“Obviously.”
Chapter 8
Laney
Laney took back everything she’d thought about Morgun being that sweet, pretty, blonde, girl next door type. She was a little spitfire beneath her charming exterior. Witty, intelligent, knew how to use sarcasm. Probably had a wicked sense of humor. She also had a killer body that wasn’t apparent from when they went for coffee or in those selfies, and her hair and makeup made her look nothing short of a celebrity. She was going to draw a lot of attention at the wedding.
Laney realized how annoying that would be, but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. She didn’t think that Morgun would wear a dress that shamelessly outlined everything like she was naked, clothed in a gossamer sheet. Even though the dress was totally opaque, it outlined everything. She wasn’t sure who wore something better suited to the beach to a wedding, but she wasn’t about to say anything. That would be pointing out that she’d noticed.
She also wasn’t sold on Morgun’s explanation of why she’d messaged her, but she let it slide. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter.
Laney pulled into the parking lot of the massive arts building. It was a gallery
with three stories, complete with tinted glass, wood and metal accents, and towering sculptures of just about every medium on the lush lawn.
“This is where they’re getting married?” Morgun exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yeah. I know. It’s not the most obvious choice in the world, but yes.”
“It’s an art gallery.”
“I know. It’s not a huge wedding, so I guess that’s why they were able to have it here. Believe it or not, they do catering and meetings and other functions. Work stuff, I imagine. Or dinners. That kind of thing. The place is big enough.”
“Yeah, I just…yeah.” Morgun fumbled with her seatbelt, suddenly very clearly nervous. “What are your parents like? The rest of your family? Am I going to get mobbed?”
“Mobbed?”
“Ambushed?”
“Oh. Yeah, probably. Mostly by my mom. We do probably have to sit with them, but don’t worry. She won’t pinch your cheeks. She might try to hug you. A lot. She might also cry.”
“Jesus. Are you that hard up for a date? Is she close to writing you off? Are you a troublesome daughter?”
“No,” Laney snorted. “Actually, yes. And yes. And maybe.” She didn’t want to have to explain this to Morgun, because it should be obvious, but maybe it wasn’t. They were both photographers, but they likely had different schedules and it was clear that their personalities couldn’t be more different either. “She wants me to settle down and have a family. She doesn’t want me to work so much. She thinks I’m getting old and the chance to be happy is going to pass me by.”
“I see. But you’re not that old, are you?”
“No.” Laney found herself cracking a smile. “Not yet. To her? Yes. Ancient. She had two kids long before she was thirty. She was a stay at home mom. The best mom. Her family was her whole world. She did have a couple jobs before she had my brother, but after that, she didn’t work outside the house. I don’t know if she doesn’t realize that a career can be just as rewarding or if she’s just worried that she’ll never have grandkids or both, but the nagging has become incessant lately. I swear, if she could, she’d order up reports on my ovaries. Then again, she was bugging me about finding someone and having a career, since she might be interested in having the kids and being a stay at home mom.”
“Good lord,” Morgun groaned. “I can see I’m really in for it.”
“Look.” Laney slid her seatbelt off too. “The requirement, crazy as it might sound, was that I bring a date to the wedding. That was it. She knows I probably had to bribe my way into it, but if you could refrain from mentioning that, I’d appreciate it. My parents are mostly normal otherwise. No one is going to give you a hard time. We’ll get in and get out, and as soon as I can make a clean getaway, I’ll pay you your thousand dollars and drive you home and you never have to see me again.”
“Unless we end up working together. Or running into each other along the way somewhere.”
“Right,” Laney said slowly. Why hadn’t she considered that? “Yeah. I guess.”
“You don’t think that I’ll get a job anywhere? Was my work so terrible?”
Morgun wasn’t fishing for compliments. She was sincere in her self-doubt. How many times had she been rejected before? Laney knew how much that could sting. She knew how it could make a person doubt not only their work, but themselves as well. How many times had she painfully gone over her portfolio, analyzing every single image? She couldn’t even begin to count the hours and hours of research she’d done into taking those shots in the first place. She wanted to give people what they wanted, not necessarily what she liked to photograph or how she liked to do it.
“No. No, it wasn’t terrible. I looked at your website after. Your photos aren’t terrible.” She didn’t offer any more feedback. No tips and no pointers. She didn’t have time, but she wouldn’t have, even if she did. She figured telling Morgun exactly what was required to succeed in a certain portion of the industry wasn’t going to help her.
“I guess we should go in, then.” Morgun produced her phone from the clutch that was in her lap. “It would be really awful to walk in late and we’re cutting it close already.”
“I know. I did it on purpose. No one likes the ceremony anyway. Everyone just goes to the reception to eat and get drunk.”
“It sounds like you hate weddings.”
“Nope. Just humanity in general.”
Morgun rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I can tell or anything.”
She opened the car door and tumbled out before Laney. She walked a couple paces ahead of her, to the massive glass front door. Laney let her. It wasn’t like this was a real date or anything. They didn’t need to be mushy or hold hands. Her mom stipulated that she had to bring someone. She didn’t say that she had to fall all over herself with PDA or even enjoy it.
There was a huge sign with arrows as soon as they walked into the building. The windows let in tons of light and gave the even bigger, wide open area with the white tile and wood and metal steps, and even more open, airy, and fresh feeling.
“Wow!” Morgun exclaimed.
Laney ignored her and took a hard left. She had to admit to herself that she was nervous about how this was going to go over with her parents. She also hated weddings, which was why she resolutely refused to photograph them. Her refusal to do her brother’s wedding led to a blowout between them. Jason hadn’t spoken to her for a few weeks after, but eventually Natasha intervened and found a different photographer who wasn’t too expensive.
Four grand was still expensive enough.
Laney pasted on a look she hoped screamed confidence. It was a look she used to reassure her clients, even when she wasn’t certain at all how the shoot would turn out. She didn’t look back at Morgun until they arrived at the huge reception room on the second floor, where the wedding was being held.
The floor was lined with massive windows and had pieces of art lining either side, but Morgun powered through, knowing that they didn’t have time to stop and look at anything, and joined Laney right at the doorway to a massive room with more of the same windows, white tile, and wood accents.
There was a defined aisle separating two sides of metal chairs. They were strange and uncomfortable looking. There was a tacky arch set up at the front with toile, fake flowers, and lights, but that was pretty much the only décor. The place was both fancy, well lit, and modern enough. Adding the cheesy, token wedding shit would only make it look worse.
Laney spotted her parents in the front row. She didn’t want to sit in the front, but she could just imagine what Jason would say if she didn’t. She inhaled sharply, grabbed Morgun’s hand, and stalked towards the front, basically pulling her along. She ignored Morgun’s slightly raspy, surprised inhale, and the way the heat from her small, slender fingers traveled up into her arm. Laney didn’t expect to notice anything, and those pinpricks of heat were quite jarring.
“Mom. Dad.” Laney nodded at them as they stared at her in open shock. She kept her face totally bland and devoid of emotion. She wasn’t going to smirk at her mom, because that would only prove that she’d done something underhanded to make this date a reality. “These are my parents. Tom and Helena.”
“Hi.” Morgun nodded at them both shyly.
Helena recovered from her shock quickly and went straight into full on drill sergeant mom mode. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?” Her eyes flicked to Laney, searching, then back to Morgun. “Were you blackmailed into this?”
“Mom!”
“Not really. I actually did the blackmailing.” Morgun winked. Both of Laney’s parents laughed.
Her dad said something to her mom about leaving them alone and Laney was able to steer Morgun to the two metal chairs left open for them.
“Only a million more hours to go,” Laney grumbled as they sat.
“You’d think that you didn’t like weddings or something.” Morgun slowly untangled her hand and rested it in her lap.
Laney turned and found her smirkin
g at her knowingly. She swallowed hard. It was like Morgun had her freaking number. She knew what game she was playing. She might hate weddings, but she was being far more curmudgeonly than normal. Deep down, she was happy for her brother and Natasha. Maybe even a little bit jealous.
Okay, she was totally jealous of Natasha’s relationship with Helena. She was closer to Laney’s mom than Laney seemed to be lately. Plus, she was getting married with the whole white dress, sappy everything deal. Then she was for sure going to get down to having a family. Laney could just sense it.
“Oh look! It’s starting!” Morgun sounded totally lovesick, just like the rest of the guests. She was sitting up straighter. Angling for a better view of the wedding party. She was giving off all sorts of sappy, romantic energy.
Which frightened and slightly intimidated Laney. And puzzled her. She should easily be able to scoff at that and even out and out hate it. Except that she couldn’t. Not really. No matter how hard she tried.
Chapter 9
Morgun
The ceremony was beautiful. The bride and groom couldn’t have picked a more picturesque venue. The bride, Natasha, was stunning. She was tall and fair, with nearly-white blonde hair. Her makeup was tasteful, her dress perfect, her flowers red poinsettias in a display of greenery as a subtle nod to the season.
As fair as Natasha was, Jason was dark like Laney, with an olive undertone and jet-black hair. He resembled his father closely, in height and build, but didn’t sport a beard like him. Morgun thought that both Laney and Jason looked more like their dad, but it was hard to tell without turning her head and staring at Helena Sterling.
After the ceremony, the photographer got the family together for photos outside before she would take the wedding party off somewhere else for their shots.
