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Laura fanned his toes, shaking her head at us. “I never thought I’d see RJ here with a date.”
I rolled my eyes, inspecting my own toes. I didn’t hate the idea of doing this again with Lear as much as I thought I might.
Chapter 22
Lear
I STOOD MAKINGsmall talk with a groom’s grandmother, scouting a space RJ and I could escape to later. My sunburn had faded, and she hadn’t been back to my place, but every time I fell into bed, I thought about her soft touches and how the mattress dipped slightly with her next to me.
“Excuse me,” I said to Nana Mary as I saw the photographer step in, glancing around. He was from out of town and I hadn’t worked with him before, but Penny said he was a big deal and could be a good contact. As I strolled toward the man, I made eye contact with RJ across the room. She looked like she’d come from court, wearing a gray suit, her hair pulled back. I loved getting her out of the suits that made her look so formidable. I got a peek into this soft corner of her life and it was a nice study in contrasts. Not that she wasn’t formidable naked.
RJ, of course, rolled her eyes at my grin.
“Hi. I’m Lear Campbell. Good to meet you.” I stretched out my hand to greet the photographer, who eyed the space skeptically.
“Garrett Parker,” he said, not returning the smile and squeezing my hand harder than necessary.
“We’ll get started soon,” I said, glancing at my watch. The bridewas wiping at her eyes in the corner, so I knew we had a few minutes. “What do you—”
“I’m known for capturing unique angles, so I’ll be moving all around. Is there anything you need to adjust to accommodate that?”
The guy reminded me of people I worked with in LA who believed they were the most important person in the room. The skill of keeping my expression and tone neutral came in handy more than I would have expected. “No, but...” I glanced up, motioning for RJ to join us. “Let me introduce you to the officiant. We’ve not been in this space before, but she usually has a few notes for photographers.”
RJ strode toward us and I swallowed, wondering what was under that simple, professional suit.
“Notes?” Garrett Parker’s face twisted into a smirk. “I don’t really take notes.”
“Excellent, then you must be good at remembering,” RJ said as she reached us, adjusting her glasses on her face. “RJ Brooks,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Garrett Parker, Parker Studios. The couple likes my style, so that’s what I’ll be doing—moving around, getting the important moments from unique angles. Ones I won’t be able to capture tomorrow. Questions?”
RJ tilted her head to the side, a look I knew well, though it was usually pointed at me. “Perfect, just stay off the altar.”
“That’s not my style.” The guy adjusted his camera bag on his shoulder and looked past RJ. “I’ll stay out of your way, and other officiants are always fine with it for a rehearsal. I’m a professional.”
“Excellent. I’m a professional, too, and I’m telling you I don’t want photographers on the altar. The couple knows that, and now you do, too. Questions?”
The man heaved a labored sigh, looking at me. “I have a certain style and it involves catching moments from the altar, sometimes during the rehearsal. This is ridiculous.”
RJ straightened next to me, and I didn’t need to see her face to know the look that was coloring her pretty features.
“Let’s pause,” I said, trying to play Switzerland. “There is a second level.” I pointed to the loft space overlooking the altar. “Could you use that space instead of being on the altar? RJ, would that work?”
The guy swore under his breath, hoisting his camera bag on his shoulder again. “I’ll try it.”
“Good,” I said, stifling the urge to push the guy back, schoolyard style. “RJ?” I said, turning my head to face her, and saw her expression was twisted into a stiff, icy glare.
“As long as you stay out of my space, I’m good.” RJ didn’t meet my gaze but kept her focus on the photographer.
“Um, alright, then. Garrett, why don’t I show you how to access the loft?” I said, motioning to the inconspicuous door behind him. “RJ, can you give me a few minutes and then we can get started?”
She nodded wordlessly, still keeping her expression trained on Garrett, who sighed again and turned.
“You should have a good vantage,” I said, making small talk as we climbed the stairs to access the loft.
He grunted in response, surveying the space and looking over the railing at the altar. I wasn’t a photographer, but I knew enough about it to know this space was great. He pulled a camera from the bag and took a few test shots. “It’s fine. Part of the job is working with people like that sometimes.” His demeanor had thawed and apparently we were having a bro moment.
“RJ is good. We all have our nonnegotiables, right?”
