The Wedding Wager (McMaster the Disaster) (4 page)

She fumbled with her hands, her camera dangling from a worn strap around her neck. The camera looked like it had seen better days too. My heart softened ever-so-slightly.

“Look I’m sorry, you’re right. I am a little down today, but it’s nothing really. Certainly nothing story worthy.” I chuckled. “Those guys will probably make it out to be though.” I tried not to sound too bitter, even though I probably did.

She shot me an expression that said I was probably right. Strange, it was like she was one of them, but different. Like maybe she had a moral or two left. Maybe she just hadn’t been completely converted yet.

“You know, I’ve never made up one of those lies,” she said.

It didn’t really sound like she was defending herself, just a matter-of-fact kind of statement, as if she’d just told me she was a Taurus or something. I didn’t doubt her for a second.

“So… why do you do this then?” I asked. “I mean, I know not everyone gets into your line of work imagining they’re going to tell lies about people, but surely they all must want to dig up scandalous stuff about the people they follow around.”

She shrugged. “Maybe some of them do. For me, I didn’t really get into this on purpose.” She turned to look directly at me. “I was a journalism student. Had it in my head that I was somehow going to make a difference in this world. Turns out my timing wasn’t the greatest though. The newspaper business is practically impossible to break into. I was, however, good at sneaking into clubs and getting shots of famous people partying it up.” She lifted her camera, dusting an invisible piece of lint off. “And now this is my life.” She shrugged again. “The pay’s okay… if you get a decent picture every now and then. Get a good scoop here and there.”

I nodded. There was just something kind of sad about a girl whose ambitions were to change the world through solid reporting, then ending up on a park bench with a sort-of celebrity whose only claim to fame was a silly bridesmaid contest and a few embarrassing leaked stories. “Sorry,” was all I could think of to say. “It must suck following someone like me around. It’s not like anything interesting ever happens to me.”

“It’s not so bad,” she said, smiling. “The guys are okay,” she motioned toward her counterparts who continued to lurk in the background. “Leo there… the bald one on the right, he’s actually pretty funny. Reminds me of my grandpa.”

I smiled. I couldn’t quite believe how… human this girl seemed, you know, for a member of the evil-doer’s society. “Well, just as a heads-up, I don’t think it’s going to be a very exciting day in McMaster the Disaster-ville.”

She chuckled. “I’m Andrea, by the way,” she said, putting her hand out.

I shook it, feeling the urge to tell her my name, which of course would have been ridiculous. “Well, if I think of a good scoop that I’m willing to divulge, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Cool,” she said, nodding. “Sorry again to bug you, you just… looked like you could use a friend.”

She got up to leave. “You don’t have to go,” I said.

And so we sat there for a while, both leaning our heads back, enjoying the day. My coffee tasted a little less delicious on account of the guilt that I had one and Andrea didn’t, but that was a small price to pay for letting a person take a load off, just for a little while.

“So, is there anything I can do to help?” she asked after a while. “You know, with the whole not feeling like yourself situation.”

I glanced at her, cautious, hoping the last few minutes of letting down my guard a bit weren’t for nothing.

“No…” I said slowly.

“Okay,” she said, and seemed content to leave it at that. “Honestly, I’m really not a bad person.”

I felt like a giant ass. “No, I know. I didn’t mean…”

She waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. In this line of work, you develop a thick skin fast. It does kind of suck though. All the people you pretty much spend time with twenty-four-seven totally think you’re an awful person when all you want to do is a little reporting. Even if it is just about the brand of shoes someone’s wearing.”

I laughed a little. “I’m sorry we make you feel that way. I think you’re one of the exceptions though. I mean, there have been so many fake stories about me, I can’t even keep the real ones straight anymore.”

“I know. I just… I hope no one thinks I’m doing that.”

“Well, now I know,” I said, smiling.

She smiled back. “Yeah, I guess you do.” She straightened up, getting ready to stand. “Listen, seriously, just let me know if you need anything. You know, if this whole not feeling like yourself thing doesn’t blow over.”

I laugh-snorted. “You don’t know of any copywriting jobs out there I suppose.” I was totally joking, of course.

“That’s your issue? You don’t have any money?”

My heart started beating faster. Damn, what had I done? I friggin’ told the paparazzi that I’m flat broke.

“Well, no, I do. I’ve got some savings. It’s just that, you know, the usual. I don’t really want to rely on anyone else to take care of me, you know?”

Her eyes brightened. “Actually, it’s not a copywriting thing, but there is something you might be able to do for some extra cash.”

“If you say reality show, I’m gonna shove you off this bench.”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I just meant, well… you’re kind of in the perfect position to get great inside scoops.”

My mouth dropped open. She couldn’t be serious.

“I’m not saying to like, spy on your friends or anything, I just mean that if there happens to be something awesome going on at one of the openings you’re at, or a party or whatever, just give me a call. Seriously, the price these papers will pay for a great story, especially one that can be proven, you know, with camera phone pictures or whatever, is pretty huge.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot rat out my friends to the very people who made my life miserable.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You know, it could be an opportunity to set the record straight for a lot of these people.”

“I appreciate the offer and everything, but I really don’t think I’m interested.”

“Okay, but just think about it,” she said, sliding her card across the bench. “Honestly, one great scoop and you could be set up for a few months, my finder’s fee taken out of course.”

“Finder’s fee?” I really wasn’t liking where this was going.

“So you can remain anonymous. Someone’s got to take the story to the papers, make sure we get the best price for it.”

I shoved the card in my purse, more to get it out of the open than anything.

“Don’t count on hearing from me,” I said.

“It’s up to you.” She picked up her gloves from the bench. “I’m just asking you to think about it, that’s all.” She backed away a few steps before turning and heading back to the others.

I hated that something about her made me trust her, feel for her. It had to suck standing out in the cold all day just waiting around for something to happen, even knowing nothing probably would. And I could so easily be attending some party, warm and looking great and just happen upon something that could make her life so much easier. Not to mention make my little rent situation a whole lot easier too.

But I could never do it. I mean, the tabloids were my mortal enemies. To even think about helping them out was the most ridiculous thing ever.

Although, I suppose if something totally innocent came along, I could send a little text her way or something, you know, just to be nice. Definitely not for the money or anything.

~ ~ ~

“I can’t believe you’re leaving next week,” I pouted.

“I know, I’m going to miss you like you wouldn’t believe,” Jake said, snuggling in under my neck.

“I feel like I never get any time with you, and how are we supposed to plan the wedding? I mean, we haven’t even picked a date yet.”

“Oh, I think the wedding plans will be more than covered with Mattie and your mother hanging around.”

I craned around to give him a look. He just grinned his movie star smile, which totally wasn’t fair since he knew I melted at the sight of it. “Seriously though, when are we going to get married? You’re so busy and I’m… well, sadly, I’m pretty much free indefinitely.” I slumped my arms to my sides, defeat washing over me.

“Hey,” Jake said, bolting up to sit beside me. “Why don’t you come with me?”

I crinkled my brow. “To Bali?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“But it’s for three weeks. What about the wedding?”

He tilted his head. “Seriously Jose, there’s time. Like you said, we haven’t even picked a date yet. Besides, you said yourself that you loved what both Mattie and your mother were planning. Why not let them take care of the detailey stuff?”

“Did you just say detailey?” I grinned.

He shrugged. “I’m an actor, not a writer.”

“Well, I can’t just let them both plan a whole wedding.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because it’s a waste of their time.”

He half-shrugged. “Only for one of them.”

My mouth dropped open. “And what about for the one we don’t choose? They’ll be completely heartbroken and probably never speak to me again!”

“I hate to tell you this, but I think the ship may have already sailed on that one. They already both think they’re doing it. The heartbreak will happen no matter what.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “What’s the harm in letting them plan just a little more?”

“I can’t believe you would do that to them,” I said, leaning back a little.

“The question is,” he said, “would you do that to them?” He raised his eyebrows three times fast like we were cooking up a sneaky little secret.

Which I guess we were.

I leaned my head back. “How in the hell did I get to the point in my life where every little thing in my world requires some sort of stress-inducing, and probably life-altering decision? I am getting really, really tired of making decisions.”

“Hmm…” Jake said. “Sounds like somebody could use a little vacation, say in a place like, oh I don’t know, Bali?” He threw me the cheesiest of grins.

I smacked him playfully.

“Besides, if you’re tired of making decisions, let them keep planning. Just think of all the decisions they can make and you won’t have to worry about at all.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I know, I know, but didn’t you see them the other day? I mean, they may have been fighting, but they were both so giddy and excited they were about to burst. Do you really want to cut that short for either one of them?” He fluttered his eyelashes.

“Oh brother. Nice manipulation technique.”

He shrugged, smiling. “Tell me I’m not right though.”

I sighed. He actually did have a point. I mean, both Mattie and my mother could really put up a good fight. It was kind of what fueled each of them. And I had to admit, three weeks of soaking up nothing but sun and culture didn’t seem like such a bad thing. And really, how much more damage was three weeks going to do to Mom or Mattie? It’s not like jobs were falling at my feet at the moment or anything.

“So, what’s the weather like this time of year in Bali?” I asked innocently.

His smile widened. “I knew you’d come around. Maybe we can leave a couple days early and explore the island together. Get settled in.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I said, and settled deeper into the couch, Jake moving in close for our own little version of a celebration.

CHAPTER 5

It was raining. Like seriously barfing buckets from the sky.

Oh sure, the first two days on the island were complete and total magic, Jake and I exploring the white sand beaches on one side of the island, then heading over to check out the black sand beaches and all the locales in between.

But today was my first day alone on the island. Jake had a long day of shooting ahead of him and I was stuck staring out the window. And surfing the net. Thank God Jake’s rental place was set up with the Internet, without it I may have gone insane.

Of course, even the Internet gets boring after a while.

I paced around the beach house for a while, staring out at the angry looking ocean, suddenly getting the urge to read. Of course, there wasn’t a book in sight.

I had, however, been thinking about transferring the Disaster Diary into electronic copy. The original was getting more and more worn by the day and the bloody thing was starting to become more and more sentimental to me, no matter how much trouble it had caused.

I sat at the computer and began to type.

Dear Disaster Diary,

I could not have been more excited for my first driving lesson. Until, that is, I discovered I would be in the same car, at the same time, as Jeff Russell, the guy I’d loved since fourth grade. I mean, this guy was way-out-of-my-league hot.

I smiled as I typed, wishing I could go back to my fifteen-year-old self and tell her all about my upcoming nuptials.

I was shaking I was so excited. I mean, just to be breathing the same enclosed air as Jeff was reason to celebrate. Of course, fate dealt me a crushing blow when we all squeezed into the car and Beth Carmichael shoved me out of the way and dove into the middle seat, smack in the middle between Jeff and I. I wanted to reach right in and grab her by the hair, tearing her right back out of the car. Luckily I was able to control my rage, even when the flirting commenced beside me.

It felt like a lifetime, sitting there staring out the window, doing my best not to let my disappointment show, not that anyone was paying the slightest bit of attention to me, Jeff was a little occupied with Beth all in his face and everything.

Finally, it was time to switch it up and let Jeff drive. To make things quicker, the instructor insisted I sit up front in the middle for when it was my turn.

Jeff looked so at home behind the wheel, which just made my heart flutter even faster. He rolled down his window and rested his elbow on the window frame, steering with one hand until the instructor made him steer all ten and two or whatever. We were driving along just fine, and I was still glaring at the guy’s nerve—I mean, Jeff had never looked cooler—when a bee flew right in Jeff’s window, heading straight for my face.