Vision in White
Page 50
Carter perused the small tray of food. “Maybe.”
“Del seduced a sampling out of the caterer.”
“There are worse ways to spend a Saturday,” Del agreed. “So, Carter, now that we’re all here, what’s going on with you and my girl?”
“Your—what?”
“You’ve got your eye on my Macadamia. You got anything else on her?”
“Del’s territorial. Have a shrimp ball.”
So was he, Carter realized. “When did she become yours—from your point of view?”
“Since she was about two. Throttle back, Carter. The question’s brotherly.”
“Then you’d better ask her.”
“Discreet.” Del nodded. “That’s a good quality. Hurt her, and I’ll mess you up.”
“Protectiveness. That’s a good quality,” Carter returned.
“Then we’re square. And also busted,” he declared when Emma came in.
“Didn’t I tell you this area is off limits?” In her blue suit, her mass of hair pinned back, she clipped around the tables. “Where did you get that food?”
“Del did it.” Jack threw his friend into the fire without hesitation.
“I’m not having beer bottles and crumbs in here. Get out, and take that with you. Go outside or up to the family wing. I expect this sort of thing from these two,” Emma added. “But I’m surprised at you, Carter.”
“I just . . . I didn’t have a beer. Or anything.”
She only gave him a steely look and pointed to the door.
“We were going to clean it up.” Jack skulked out with the others, and turned to watch Emma check the table arrangements.
Carter bumped into him in the doorway. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Jack glanced over as Del’s walkie beeped.
“I’m hooked up,” Del explained. “The ass**le just got here. He’s alone. I guess that means we don’t get to go out and intimidate him, maybe smack him around. Too bad.”
IT SEEMED TO GO WELL, CARTER DECIDED. IF HE HADN’T SEEN so much of the behind-the-scenes, he might have believed it just unfolded. The flowers, the music, the radiant bride bathed in candlelight. He stood in the back with Del and Jack watching two people promise to love.
But he couldn’t keep his eyes off Mac.
She moved so smoothly, so silently. Not like a shadow, he thought. She was too bright for shadows. Still it seemed she barely stirred the air so all around her attention centered on the two people in front of the crackling fire.
“Got it bad, don’t you?” Del murmured.
“Yes, I do.”
As the newly married couple turned to start the recession, Mac dashed back, nudged Carter to the left. When they passed by into the foyer, she lowered her camera briefly. “I can use you for the group shots. Just stay behind me.”
Guests were escorted through another door. Mac made use of the staircase, the foyer, the now empty parlor.
She worked quickly, Carter observed. She didn’t seem to hurry, but she clicked along, posing various groups and couples—and smoothly avoiding any pose that put the feuding maid of honor and best man together.
The minute she was finished, Parker took over.
“Parker’s going to line them up for the introductions. We’ll go around this way.”
“Let me carry the bag for you.”
“No, I’m used to it.” She led him around, through doorways, through the kitchen bustling with catering, and out into the Grand Hall. “I’ll get some shots as they come in. B and G have the sweetheart table there. It’s a plated meal, numbered tables. Once everyone’s down, it’s just a matter of keeping an eye out for an op. How are you holding up?”
“Fine. You’re doing all the work.”
“We’re still on red alert. We need to keep an eye on the CBBM. If he leaves the hall, one of us has to go after him, make sure he’s just going to pee or catch a smoke. When we’re done in here and move up to the Ballroom for the dancing, that’s when it’s going to get crazy. Less structured, and harder to keep a bead on him.”
SHE WAS RIGHT. HE STUCK WITH HER WHEN HE COULD ONCE the party began in earnest. Guests took advantage of the band and danced, or gathered in groups to chat. Some wandered in, some wandered out. Since he knew what to look for, he noted various staff members by the exits. It was oddly exciting.
“I think we might be clear.” Laurel joined them. “I’m bringing the cake out after this next set, and he hasn’t made a move. No sign of the target either. The B and G don’t look worried about it.”
“Couldn’t look happier,” Mac agreed. “Another ninety and we’re clear.”
“I’m going to check the dessert table.”
“Wait till you get a load of it,” Mac told Carter. “The cake. It’s amazing.”
“Carter? Carter!” A pretty blonde in a red dress dashed over to grab his arms and beam up at him. “I thought that was you. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Ah . . .”
“Steph. Stephanie Gorden. Corrine’s friend. How quickly they forget.” She laughed and tipped up to her toes to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t realize you were friends of Naomi and Brent.”
“Actually, I’m—”
“Brent’s my cousin. What a beautiful wedding. This place is just fabulous. Really, imagine having an actual ballroom in your own house. Of course I suppose the Browns lease it out for events so they can maintain it. I’m going to have to find Greg—you remember my husband, Greg, don’t you? He’ll be so surprised to see you. What’s it been? It’s been a year at least. We haven’t seen you since you and Corrine—”
She broke off, gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. We thought you were perfect for each other.”
“Uh, well. No. This is Mackensie Elliot. The wedding photographer.”
“Hello, how are you? You must be exhausted! I’ve seen you running around, snapping pictures. Naomi must be making it easy for you. She’s such a beautiful bride.”
“It’s been . . . a snap.”
“I’ve gotten some really nice pictures myself. Those digital cameras practically work themselves, don’t they?”
“Del seduced a sampling out of the caterer.”
“There are worse ways to spend a Saturday,” Del agreed. “So, Carter, now that we’re all here, what’s going on with you and my girl?”
“Your—what?”
“You’ve got your eye on my Macadamia. You got anything else on her?”
“Del’s territorial. Have a shrimp ball.”
So was he, Carter realized. “When did she become yours—from your point of view?”
“Since she was about two. Throttle back, Carter. The question’s brotherly.”
“Then you’d better ask her.”
“Discreet.” Del nodded. “That’s a good quality. Hurt her, and I’ll mess you up.”
“Protectiveness. That’s a good quality,” Carter returned.
“Then we’re square. And also busted,” he declared when Emma came in.
“Didn’t I tell you this area is off limits?” In her blue suit, her mass of hair pinned back, she clipped around the tables. “Where did you get that food?”
“Del did it.” Jack threw his friend into the fire without hesitation.
“I’m not having beer bottles and crumbs in here. Get out, and take that with you. Go outside or up to the family wing. I expect this sort of thing from these two,” Emma added. “But I’m surprised at you, Carter.”
“I just . . . I didn’t have a beer. Or anything.”
She only gave him a steely look and pointed to the door.
“We were going to clean it up.” Jack skulked out with the others, and turned to watch Emma check the table arrangements.
Carter bumped into him in the doorway. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Jack glanced over as Del’s walkie beeped.
“I’m hooked up,” Del explained. “The ass**le just got here. He’s alone. I guess that means we don’t get to go out and intimidate him, maybe smack him around. Too bad.”
IT SEEMED TO GO WELL, CARTER DECIDED. IF HE HADN’T SEEN so much of the behind-the-scenes, he might have believed it just unfolded. The flowers, the music, the radiant bride bathed in candlelight. He stood in the back with Del and Jack watching two people promise to love.
But he couldn’t keep his eyes off Mac.
She moved so smoothly, so silently. Not like a shadow, he thought. She was too bright for shadows. Still it seemed she barely stirred the air so all around her attention centered on the two people in front of the crackling fire.
“Got it bad, don’t you?” Del murmured.
“Yes, I do.”
As the newly married couple turned to start the recession, Mac dashed back, nudged Carter to the left. When they passed by into the foyer, she lowered her camera briefly. “I can use you for the group shots. Just stay behind me.”
Guests were escorted through another door. Mac made use of the staircase, the foyer, the now empty parlor.
She worked quickly, Carter observed. She didn’t seem to hurry, but she clicked along, posing various groups and couples—and smoothly avoiding any pose that put the feuding maid of honor and best man together.
The minute she was finished, Parker took over.
“Parker’s going to line them up for the introductions. We’ll go around this way.”
“Let me carry the bag for you.”
“No, I’m used to it.” She led him around, through doorways, through the kitchen bustling with catering, and out into the Grand Hall. “I’ll get some shots as they come in. B and G have the sweetheart table there. It’s a plated meal, numbered tables. Once everyone’s down, it’s just a matter of keeping an eye out for an op. How are you holding up?”
“Fine. You’re doing all the work.”
“We’re still on red alert. We need to keep an eye on the CBBM. If he leaves the hall, one of us has to go after him, make sure he’s just going to pee or catch a smoke. When we’re done in here and move up to the Ballroom for the dancing, that’s when it’s going to get crazy. Less structured, and harder to keep a bead on him.”
SHE WAS RIGHT. HE STUCK WITH HER WHEN HE COULD ONCE the party began in earnest. Guests took advantage of the band and danced, or gathered in groups to chat. Some wandered in, some wandered out. Since he knew what to look for, he noted various staff members by the exits. It was oddly exciting.
“I think we might be clear.” Laurel joined them. “I’m bringing the cake out after this next set, and he hasn’t made a move. No sign of the target either. The B and G don’t look worried about it.”
“Couldn’t look happier,” Mac agreed. “Another ninety and we’re clear.”
“I’m going to check the dessert table.”
“Wait till you get a load of it,” Mac told Carter. “The cake. It’s amazing.”
“Carter? Carter!” A pretty blonde in a red dress dashed over to grab his arms and beam up at him. “I thought that was you. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Ah . . .”
“Steph. Stephanie Gorden. Corrine’s friend. How quickly they forget.” She laughed and tipped up to her toes to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t realize you were friends of Naomi and Brent.”
“Actually, I’m—”
“Brent’s my cousin. What a beautiful wedding. This place is just fabulous. Really, imagine having an actual ballroom in your own house. Of course I suppose the Browns lease it out for events so they can maintain it. I’m going to have to find Greg—you remember my husband, Greg, don’t you? He’ll be so surprised to see you. What’s it been? It’s been a year at least. We haven’t seen you since you and Corrine—”
She broke off, gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. We thought you were perfect for each other.”
“Uh, well. No. This is Mackensie Elliot. The wedding photographer.”
“Hello, how are you? You must be exhausted! I’ve seen you running around, snapping pictures. Naomi must be making it easy for you. She’s such a beautiful bride.”
“It’s been . . . a snap.”
“I’ve gotten some really nice pictures myself. Those digital cameras practically work themselves, don’t they?”
