Through a Magnolia Filter (11 page)

He shifted closer and whispered, “They're standing there, gobsmacked.”

She wiped her hands and scooted around the counter, not looking back at her sister. “Help me.”

He followed her into the butler's pantry. She pulled down trays and set champagne flutes out. Then she grabbed marble bottle holders out of a fridge and bottles of prosecco. Her curls bounced as she moved around. “Let's take everything to the library, just in case there's an announcement.”

He hefted the heaviest tray. “Lead on.”

In the library, the two mothers sat next to each other holding hands. Martin and Samuel occupied the wingback chairs in front of the fire.

“Are they back?” Mamma asked.

“Arm in arm.” Dolley nodded. “Thought we should be ready if there's an announcement.”

“I should let your family celebrate,” Liam whispered, as they stood near the fire.

“No.” Dolley's smile was bigger than he'd ever seen it. She grabbed her camera off the mantel. “But you could take pictures.”

“Sure.” He checked all the settings and snapped a few of the mothers on the sofa. Then one of Dolley. The comfort of seeing the world through the lens had him letting go of the breaths that had clogged his lungs. This was where he belonged. Behind the camera. Interacting with strangers all the time was exhausting.

A parade of people came down the hall, led by Bess and Daniel holding hands. He pulled the camera up, shooting the couple as they smiled into each other's eyes. Would the tears that hung on her lashes translate as joy or sadness?

Everyone crowded around the pair as they moved to the two older couples.

“She's giving me another chance!” Daniel thrust out Bess's left hand.

Liam hoped he caught the delight on everyone's faces. He couldn't stop to look. He zoomed in on the ring and then pulled the focus back to capture Bess, Abby and Dolley together. Light glinted off their fiery hair as the sisters hugged.

The power of family. He took in a tight breath. It was something he would never have.

The prosecco was popped and glasses were filled. He stayed in the background, capturing the families' joy.

Dolley handed him a flute. “Time to celebrate.” There was a little quiver in her voice. “Thank you for taking pictures.”

“It's what I do best.” He handed her camera back. Without it, he didn't know what to do with his hands. He clutched the flute.

“I'm so happy for my sister.” Now there was definitely a quiver in Dolley's voice.

He patted her shoulder. He could do that, give her some comfort.

She sobbed, burying her face in his chest.

Whoa. He froze.

He put an arm around her, still patting her shoulder. Her warm scent filled his nose. He glanced around the room.

Gray frowned at him.

He shrugged, not sure what to do with the weeping woman crying into his chest.

“I'm...I'm sorry.” Dolley pulled away, brushing the wet patch on his shirt. “She's just been so sad since they broke up.”

Her hand on his chest had his body coming to life. A jolt as sharp as a strobe flash went through his belly. Had he read Dolley wrong? Was she attracted to him, or was this just joy for her sister?

He needed to think and regroup. Taking a deep breath, he stepped away from her. “I've intruded enough on your family's holiday.”

“You're not intruding.” She reached out but dropped her hand.

He smiled, letting her figure out the smile count. He'd lost track. He wanted to stay and revel in the family's happiness, but he was still an outsider. Always alone. He might be invited to their celebration, but at the end of the day, he wasn't a Fitzgerald.

CHAPTER SEVEN

All photos are accurate. None of them is the truth.

Richard Avedon

D
OLLEY
TUCKED
THE
tail of her Catering by Fitzgerald shirt into her black pants and pushed open the kitchen door. They were short one server for tonight's wedding. That put her in the lineup.

Abby had the house phone stretched to the end of its cord, trying to reach her address book. “I'll check. Give me a few minutes, and I'll call you back.”

Dolley hustled over and handed the address book to her sister. “What's up?”

“Loretta slipped on the ice this morning.” Abby furiously flipped through her book. “She broke her arm.”

“Was she tonight's photographer?”

Abby nodded, her ponytail bouncing. “Since I gave the bride her name, she asked if I knew someone else.”

A thrill went through Dolley's chest. She could do it. She could take the pictures.

Abby punched numbers into the phone. “Blake. How are you?”

Dolley swallowed. Blake was excellent. He'd photographed dozens of Fitzgerald House weddings. He was a good choice.

Please, be busy.

Abby explained the crisis.

Bess pushed open the door, flowers in her hand. “I have the...”

Dolley put a finger to her lips and pointed to Abby.

“What's up?” Bess asked.

“Loretta broke her arm.”

“Oh, no.” Bess's eyes flared open. “She was today's photographer?”

Dolley nodded, trying to keep her smile off her face. Bess would
surely
suggest Dolley be given the chance. She grabbed a mug and poured coffee.

Abby called another number. Then another. After two more calls, she slammed the book shut. “No one is available last minute.”

Dolley waited, looking between her two sisters.

“Dolley?” Abby asked.

This was it. She straightened. “Yes?”

Abby tapped her finger on the counter. “Let's ask Liam.”

“Liam?”
Liam!
No. She wanted to be the one her sisters turned to. “He's—”

“—Fantastic! Great idea,” Bess said. “When Daniel and I got engaged, Liam's pictures were incredible.”

The coffee seared Dolley's belly. Of course her sisters would think of Liam. He was fabulous. “He's...he's not a wedding photographer.”

“You never know.” Abby stood. “He's a photographer.”

“Let's ask.” Bess handed the flowers to Abby. “Here's the cake topper.”

“He might not even be here.” But yesterday, he'd suggested they touch up photos together, something they'd been working on the last week and half since Christmas.

Ever since she'd cried all over him, their working relationship had changed. He touched her—more. Not like he was making a move. More like her sisters did—like family.

And as perverse as it sounded,
she
wanted more.

She cringed. Maybe since Mamma announced he was an honorary Fitzgerald, he thought of her as a sister.

The lines between their professional lives and personal had blurred. And she didn't know how to keep them in place.

Bess dragged her up the back stairs.

Maybe Liam would say
no
. Then her sisters would get to the bottom of the barrel—her.

They stopped in front of his suite and Bess knocked.

Liam opened the door and looked between them. “How's the form?”

Dolley shook her head. He'd used the phrase once or twice, and she still didn't know what it meant.

He stepped back and held the door for them. “I mean,
what's up
in Yank.”

“We're—” Bess waved her hand “—wondering if you could do us a huge favor.”

“What would that be?” He looked at Dolley.

“The photographer for tonight's wedding broke her arm,” Bess said.

Dolley shifted. This was so inappropriate. They shouldn't ask a famous photographer to take wedding pictures.

He looked genuinely sorry. “That's terrible.”

“Could you stand in?” Bess blurted out.

“Me?”

“It's a small wedding. The ceremony is here. Everything will happen here. Ceremony. Dinner.” Bess's words tumbled together.

“There's no one else?” Liam asked.

“Abby's called everyone,” Bess said. “No one's available.”

Liam frowned at Dolley.

She shook her head. “You can say
no
.”

He rubbed his chin. “It could be fun. Sure.”

“Really.” Dolley's chest ached. “Have you ever shot a wedding?”

“Plenty of my school chums.” His blue gaze caught hers. “Worried I won't know what to do?”

“No.” But why didn't her sisters recognize she could handle this crisis and do a good job for the bride?

“What time am I needed?” he asked.

Bess typed on her phone. A response dinged. “Abby says, thank you, thank you. And the bride arrives at five.”

Dolley checked her phone. Forty-five minutes.

“I need to finish decorating.” Bess dashed out the door.

Before Dolley could follow, Liam asked, “Can you help me?”

“Me?” Dolley pressed a hand on her breasts.

He stared at her chest.

Heat flamed through her body. Her hand slipped to her side.

“You can make sure I don't forget any shots the bride will want.” His gaze refocused on her face.

“I should be able to swing that.” She could help Liam, and while he took pictures of the bride and groom eating and toasting, she could serve. “We lost a server, so I'll be helping with that, too.”

“Do what you can, then.” He grabbed a camera bag and freshly charged batteries. Then he moved into the bedroom and selected two cameras. “Where will this take place?”

“The ballroom. Follow me.”

They headed up the main stairs. Her disappointment weighed down each foot like concrete boots.

“I haven't been up here.” Liam stroked the railing.

She imagined him stroking her skin the same way. “You're entranced by our woodwork. Why is that?”

“I am?” He shook his head. “I was thinking of my godfather's manor. It would have been so much more hospitable if it had been cared for like Fitzgerald House.”

“Was that in Kerry?”

“No. Kilkee.” The finality in his voice shut down any additional questions.

He could talk for hours about photography, but nothing about himself. Some day she would get him to share why he clammed up whenever she asked questions about his childhood.

“Fitzgerald House didn't always look like this. Mamma started the restoration when I was five. It wasn't until last year that we finished the guest rooms on this floor.” She pushed open the double doors. “I think you'll like the ballroom.”

“Oh, my.” Wonder filled his face. “It's grand.”

She tried to see the ballroom through his eyes. Four crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The relief on the ceiling and walls was gold leaf. The cream-colored walls had inset mirrors that reflected the gorgeous room.

Bess was placing centerpieces of white roses with gold-sprayed leaves in the center of each table. Half of the tables were set. An arbor with white flowers and more gold leaves was angled into the corner of the room. White chairs flared in short rows away from the arbor, and a satin runner covered the center aisle between the chairs. “The flowers look great.”

Bess gave her a worried wave.

Cheryl pushed a cart of wineglasses and silverware into the ballroom.

“I need to set tables,” Dolley said.

He nodded, pulling out a camera.

As she wiped and set wineglasses, Liam moved around the room. He shot close-ups of the centerpieces and the arbor. Knelt to take more of the head table set on a dais.

She wanted to peer over his shoulder and see what he saw.

Instead, she polished silverware, her lips set in a straight line.

“Bride's here,” Bess called. “Liam, I'll introduce you.”

“Splendid.” Liam grabbed his camera bag. He looked over at Dolley.

“I'll be down when we're finished.” They still had a few more tables to go. “Five minutes.”

Was that panic that ran across his face before he nodded? Couldn't be. He was Liam Delaney.

Cheryl was folding the last napkin by the time Dolley placed the final set of silverware around the table. “Anything else?”

Cheryl grabbed the clipboard on the cart, checking off each item. “No. We're good for a while.”

Dolley took the back stairs to the bride's changing room. She knocked, and the door popped open.

Inside, the bride and her attendants sipped champagne. Liam nodded, his eyes a little wild. He gave a head jerk.

She hurried to his side.

“Lisa wants to make sure we capture all these pictures.” He handed her a piece of paper with a lengthy list.

She scanned it. It seemed like the usual. “Okay. I'll make sure you don't forget any. You can shoot the dress.”

He stepped next to the hanging wedding dress and worked his way around it. Then he took a couple of shots of the shiny shoes sitting on the floor.

Dolley had been in and around enough weddings to know how to stage the shots. “Ladies, why don't you all toast the bride?” she suggested. “Lisa, let's put you right in the middle.”

They obliged. Dolley found a pen and crossed off the pictures. Her phone buzzed.
Groom's party's here.

“You're husband-to-be has arrived,” Dolley called out. “We'll check on him.”

Lisa's face went pink. “Wonderful.”

They could get pictures of the groom getting ready while Lisa got into her own dress. “We'll be back.”

“Why don't you take the pictures of the bride dressing?” He handed her a camera. “I don't think I should.”

“Oh, wow.” It was the Rolleiflex. “You're letting me use your camera?”

He was frowning. “Do you have yours?”

“No.” She might lie to get her hands on this exquisite equipment. Grinning, she made sure she knew how to run the camera. “I can't wait.”

He stared as she handled the camera.

“I'll take care of it like it's my baby,” she assured him.

“Sugar, can't you take our pictures?” a bridesmaid asked Liam.

“We want to get all the pictures Lisa requested,” Liam said. “And Dolley's very talented.”

Too bad her sisters didn't think so.

“Hurry back.” The bridesmaid, champagne flute in hand, brushed Liam's sleeve. “I'm Rachel.”

Miffed by Rachel's forwardness, Dolley straightened her shoulders. She shouldn't be jealous. Liam could do what he wanted. She was just his apprentice.

“Lisa, how about getting dressed?” Dolley got the okay to take pictures of the bride in her corset. “You look incredible.”

Lisa's smile was a beam of light.

“If you get that lovely dress on, we could shoot some pictures of you on the balcony,” Dolley suggested.

“Help me, ladies,” Lisa sang out.

Her friends tugged, buttoned and fluffed. Then Dolley opened the French doors.

“Watch the ice,” she warned, shooting away as they laughed and surrounded the bride. She got a few good ones and one
great
one. “Why don't I get some with just Lisa?”

Lisa leaned on the balustrade and shouted, “I'm getting married.”

Dolley moved to the side, trying to capture the anticipation. Lisa turned with another joyous smile.
There.
She pushed the shutter, hoping she was getting the picture she'd envisioned.

There was a knock. Rachel scurried over and opened the door.

Liam.

“Come in out of the cold,” Dolley told the bride. She handed the camera to Liam. “How'd it go?”

He was grinning.

Maybe she should count his smiles today. Unless he was smiling because of
Rachel
.

“I had the groom's party on the balcony in their room,” he said.

“Great minds.”

He frowned.

“Great minds think alike.”

He raised his eyebrows. “They do?”

The sexy lilt in his voice hummed right to the center of her body. She sighed.

They headed to the ballroom ahead of the bride. “Make sure I don't make a hash of it, will you, luv?” he asked.

Who would have imagined an internationally recognized photographer would be nervous about meeting a bride's expectations. Liam took pictures as Dolley checked off the list.

When the minister and groom took their places, he slipped to the front of the wedding guests. The bridal party made their entrance and Liam was in full control.

Once the
I do's
were said and the couple introduced, Dolley helped set up group shots. It was like they could read each other's minds. She would twitch a skirt or straighten a tie before he could get the words out of his mouth. Without his direction, she moved the wedding party members around for symmetry. Then she backed away and stood next to Liam.

He leaned close, their shoulders brushing. “We're good together.”

They were. Was that because he'd taught her to see the world through his lens?

After the group shots were done, Rachel put her hand on Liam's back. “Can I see what you've taken?”

Dolley wanted to rip Rachel's hand, with its perfect French manicure, off Liam's back.

Liam shifted away from the bridesmaid. “I'm afraid you'll have to wait until I go through the pictures with Lisa.”

Rachel pouted, crossing her arms under her breasts.

“What's next?” Liam moved to Dolley, not even glancing at the bounty of flesh plumped up for his viewing pleasure.

Rachel sniffed and headed to the bar.

“The only required pictures left are the toasts and the cake cutting. You can just roam for a while.” She handed his bag back to him. “I need to set salads.”