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“Again? Really?” I grimaced. “Didn’t you get enough photos at the boudoir shoot?”
“Oh, Stacey, your boudoir photos were just …” Sam did a chef’s kiss. “You know the two photos of you that I emailed to the firefighting calendar as an example of my work?”
“Yeah?” I cringed.
“They loved them. I think they’re going to ask me to help with the calendar production.”
I grinned, pulling Sam in for a hug. “Oh, Sam. That’s fantastic.”
“Don’t you want to see the photos?”
I let Sam go. “I was there. I know what I look like.”
“Not the same. I’m texting you the photos now.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Anyway, can I please take your photo tonight? I’m getting social pics for the paper and you’re still famous after saving that woman’s life. And everyone wants a photo of Hot Doc, too.”
My phone pinged in rapid succession.
Amanda: Never mind. Found them. Thank god!
Amanda: Someone put a folder on top of them
I looked up, hoping to find divine inspiration on the bathroom ceiling. There wasn’t any.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
“Amanda is treating us like personal minions. Mum has ordered us, mostly me, to be helpful but I swear to God—all of the gods—I’m about to lose my shit. Good luck with the boudoir shoot tomorrow with her friends.”
We exited the bathroom and lurked behind a hedge with fairy lights near the beer garden’s entrance.
“Ah, that. Tell me about it. I may already be regretting the photo shoot offer. Amanda and her friends keep sending me photos of what they want done. Seriously, some of their ideas need a full-time make-up artist and access to a porn star’s lingerie collection to pull it off. I need more champagne to get them buzzed tomorrow. Speaking of champers—”
“Hey Sam!”
Benji approached with Ryan following him, carrying two glasses of sparkling wine. “Who’s your friend—holy shit, Stacey?”
Benji’s lips parted as he slowly looked me up and down. Ryan halted.
“You two right there?” I asked.
Ryan startled. “You look …”
“I look what?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“You look … nice.”
“You look really dressed up, Stace,” Benji added.
“Nice?Nice?”Sam rounded on Ryan, making him jump back. “She’s smoking hot tonight and all you can say is nice?”
He looked in pain, trying to find different words. “Stacey, you look … so grown up, actually.”
For our first real conversation in more than two weeks since he’d fronted up to Harry’s hotel room, Ryan was showing me respect.
“Pfft, she grew up ages ago,” Sam said. “You’re just used to her in farm clothes and her work uniform. None of which show off her assets.”
He placed the drinks down and held up his hands. “I’m not talking about my sister’s assets.”
“What do you call this outfit, Ryan?” Sam looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “Paddock chic?”
