Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel

  “I had no idea.” Bella reached for her napkin to wipe Tres’s face.

  “It’s true,” I said. “We’ll play lots of games and music and even have prizes.”

  Rosa’s eyes lit up. “I like this idea very much. Laz and I did something similar on the show once with Dino and Ol’ Blue Eyes. I cooked Frankie’s favorite foods and Laz cooked Dino’s. It got a little competitive.”

  “My aunt and uncle have always had a competitive thing going over Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra,” Bella explained as she refolded her napkin. “But they’ve resolved that dispute.”

  “I wouldn’t say we’ve resolved it.” Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no one like Sinatra.”

  “Unless you count Dino at his finest,” Laz threw in. “But we’ve agreed to lay this argument down because it was putting up a wall of separation between us, and we can’t have that.” He leaned over and gave Rosa a peck on the cheek. Her face reddened.

  “Well, our Bing and Bob party gets a little competitive too,” I said. “My grandpa Aengus was nuts about Bing Crosby, but my dad is a Bob Hope fan. So every time we would watch Road to Singapore, there would always be this banter going back and forth.”

  Drew shook his head. “I still say no one can top Bing Crosby’s voice. I grew up listening to his music. Even have it on my phone.” He pulled out the device, and seconds later the strains of “White Christmas” filled the room.

  “I’ve always loved that song.” Mama sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Really puts me in the mood for Christmas.”

  The conversation shifted to our holiday plans. On the heels of that, Laz served up a tiramisu that made my head swim. I could feel my cholesterol rising as I nibbled. Imelda made some remark about gaining weight, which sent the ladies into a lengthy conversation about how hard it was to keep their weight in check during the holidays. This, of course, bored the men to tears, so they eased their way into a conversation about football. I couldn’t help but notice that Drew didn’t have much to add to the football conversation. Then again, as he reached for a second piece of tiramisu, I had to conclude the boy was slightly distracted. He probably didn’t get this kind of meal very often either.

  Just about the time the conversation wound down, I glanced at my watch—4:05. Yikes. Mama and I would have to head home soon.

  Or not.

  Rosa pushed back her chair, flashed a winning smile, and invited my mama to join her in the garden. “Come, Marie.” She extended her hand. “You must see my Romas.”

  “Ooh, I want to come too.” Earline rose and brushed her hands against her slacks. “I’ve been dying to figure out how you keep them growing year-round.”

  “That’s my little secret.” Rosa gave her a wink and chuckled.

  The three ladies made quick work of clearing the table. Minutes later the room emptied out. Well, mostly. D.J. took the kids to the other room for a nap, but Bella lingered behind. I could tell she had something on her mind. I’d just started to get out of my chair when she looked at me.

  “Hey, can you hang around a minute? There’s something I need to tell you.” She glanced at Drew, who remained seated next to me. “Both of you, really.”

  “Sure.” I settled back into my chair, curiosity setting in.

  Bella looked Drew’s way again and sighed. “Drew, I’m sorry you got stuck here all day. Pretty good of you, since you didn’t even know why I’d asked you to stop by in the first place.” She eased her way down into an empty seat. I could read the exhaustion in her eyes.

  “It’s been a great day.” His smile seemed genuine enough. “Had a blast with your family, Bella. They’re great.”

  “Thanks. But it’s time to tell you why I wanted to meet with you. I’ve got some news to share. I hadn’t really planned to let anyone else know, but since you’re both together . . .” She gave me a strange look, as if analyzing the word together.

  “News to share?” Drew asked. “What do you mean?”

  She hesitated. “Well, what I’m about to tell you may come as a shock. And you have to keep it to yourself, okay? Brock will kill me if this gets leaked to the media.”

  “B-Brock? Brock Benson?” I couldn’t help the words. They just slipped out.

  “Yes.” She grinned and put a finger to her lips. “But we really have to keep this quiet, okay? My family doesn’t know. Yet. They’ll flip when they find out. They love Brock, so this is going to mean the world to them.”

  “You asked me to come over because of something to do with Brock?” Drew looked confused. “Something to do with his wedding photos?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Her smile now lit her face. “He’s been asked to serve as the grand marshal for the Christmas parade at Dickens on the Strand the weekend of Sierra’s wedding.”

  “No way.” My breath caught in my throat. “Are you serious?” I felt the room spinning. Brock Benson, my favorite actor in the history of movies, was coming back to Galveston Island?

  “Yes.” She nodded. “His wife is from Texas, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, Erin’s from Austin,” Drew said.

  “Her grandfather lives here on the island, though, and he’s a bigwig with the Dickens project,” Bella added. “So of course he thought Brock would be the perfect choice.”

  “Wow.”

  Bella turned to Drew. “And that’s where you come in. Because you’ve worked with Brock before, he felt you would be the perfect candidate to capture some shots of him leading the parade.”

  “Wow. That’s great.” Drew grinned, and I could read the look of satisfaction in his eyes.

  Ouch. Once again Drew Kincaid swept in behind me to steal my thunder.

  Bella now looked at me, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “But wait—there’s more.”

  “O-oh?” I managed.

  “Yes.” She quirked a brow. “See, there’s a little teensy-tiny thing I haven’t told you, Hannah. One very important thing.”

  I felt my nerves kick in. “More than this, you mean?”

  Bella nodded and gave a sly grin. “Yep. See, Brock is also in Sierra Caswell’s wedding on the day after the parade.”

  “He—he—what?” I could hardly believe my ears. Suddenly I had that weird out-of-body sensation. Surely I was dreaming this. Bella did not just say that Brock Benson—hunky, gorgeous Brock Benson—was going to be in the wedding I’d been hired to shoot.

  Oh. Help.

  “Sure. Think about it, Hannah. Sierra wrote the theme song for Stars Collide.”

  “Right.” I knew that. But what did one thing have to do with the other?

  Bella rose and paced the room, then turned to give me a pensive look. “Brock set all of that up. He met Sierra through his wife. Erin and Sierra went to high school together in Austin.”

  “Oh. Wow.” I could hardly manage those two words, let alone anything else.

  I’m going to take pictures of Brock Benson. Just like Drew.

  “Now you see one reason why Sierra’s been so keen on keeping things perfect for her wedding,” Bella said. “She’s carrying the stress of making things right not just for herself but for Brock and Erin too.”

  Suddenly it all made sense. The high-pressure emails from George. The tension in Sierra’s voice. The insistence that I only capture certain shots, certain angles.

  “But if he’s been asked to be in the parade, everyone will figure out he’s here.” Drew’s words gave away his confusion about the matter.

  “Right. They’ll know he’s here for the parade, but they won’t have a clue about his participation in the wedding the next day. The timing works out perfectly. Parade on Saturday. Wedding on Sunday afternoon.” She looked my way again. “So you see, Hannah? You see why I needed you to know? I didn’t want you to show up at the wedding and find out in the moment. Might’ve been too much of a shock.”

  Too much of a shock? Well, yeah! Brock Benson was coming here? Not just coming to Galveston for Dickens on the Strand, bu
t coming to be in the very wedding I happened to be photographing? My mind reeled as the reality set in. Every nerve in my body felt exposed. A mixture of excitement and sheer terror overtook me. How could I manage photographing not only Sierra Caswell but Brock Benson as well? I couldn’t even pick out matching shoes.

  A quick glance down at my matching tennis shoes should’ve convinced me otherwise, but then I realized that I happened to be wearing one pink sock and one white one. Go figure.

  Every ounce of confidence slithered right out of me as I stared at my feet. What sort of fool was I, anyway? I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t shoot Sierra Caswell’s wedding if Brock Benson was involved. I would find some way—likely some very public, excruciating way—to prove that I didn’t have the goods. And no matter how many Irish proverbs I quoted, no matter how many swords I wielded, I would come out looking like a fool in the end.

  9

  I’ve Got a Pocketful of Dreams

  May you get all your wishes but one,

  So you always have something to strive for.

  Irish blessing

  It took me all of five minutes to shake off my fears regarding the whole Brock Benson thing and then readjust my thinking. I would photograph Sierra Caswell’s wedding and would do so with confidence and grace. I would not show up in mismatched shoes, nor would I humiliate the McDermott clan in any form or fashion. Instead, my business would grow into a thing of beauty as a result of this opportunity.

  I hoped.

  Bella forged ahead, giving us particulars about the upcoming events, her words now soaring. I got a little confused somewhere in the middle of the whole “grand marshal for the parade” part. Not that Drew appeared to be terribly focused on her story either. At one point—probably in a sugar-induced state from the tiramisu—he let out what sounded like a little snore.

  “Looks like we’ve lost him.” Bella chuckled as she gestured his way. “I guess we can wrap this up another time when he’s not comatose.”

  He stirred a few seconds later, then gave us a sheepish look. “Sorry.” A yawn and stretch followed. “Guess the food got to me.”

  “Yeah, Rosa’s pasta is pretty intoxicating.”

  “No kidding. Not to mention all of that sugar in the dessert.” He rose and yawned again. “Maybe I should hit the road. Might make more sense to nap at my own house.”

  Bella gave him a sympathetic look. “Thanks for coming by. Hope the news about Brock Benson didn’t throw you for a loop.”

  “Nah, I can handle it. He’s a pretty normal guy. Puts his socks on one foot at a time, just like the rest of us.”

  I couldn’t help but glance down at my feet.

  Drew gave Bella a confident smile, then said his goodbyes and staggered out of the room, still looking a little loopy. I couldn’t help but notice when he turned back to give me one last glance. Sizing up the competition, maybe? I couldn’t be sure. As long as he didn’t notice my socks, I would be okay.

  After he left, Bella rose and sighed. “It’s been quite a day.”

  “Perfect, really.” I rose as well and stretched as a wave of exhaustion settled over me. “You have an awesome family. I’m a little jealous.”

  “Aw, thanks. They’re a little crazy, but I love ’em.” She flashed a winning smile and stepped toward me. “Speaking of people I love, have I mentioned how much I’m enjoying getting to know you?”

  My heart warmed as she gave me a sisterly smile. “Thanks. I feel the same way.”

  “I feel like . . .” Here she paused. “I feel like we’re kindred spirits. You know?”

  Offering up a lame nod, I managed, “I do.”

  It felt really good, in fact. To think I’d been worried about impressing her. Turned out she was as normal as the rest of us.

  Her gaze narrowed as she looked my way. “Since we’re so close and all . . . one of these days you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on with you and Drew. It kind of surprised me to see the two of you as a couple.”

  “We’re not.” I sighed. “Trust me. He’s a great guy . . .”

  “He is, isn’t he?” She laughed, then gave my hand a squeeze. “He’s no Armando, but he’ll do.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh aloud at that proclamation.

  “I don’t blame you where Armando’s concerned. He’s a piece of work. We all know it.” She rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion. “Anyway, we can talk about that later. Guess I’d better get to work in the kitchen. I usually do the dishes when Rosa and Mama do most of the cooking. The longer I stay here, the less I feel like working.”

  “I’ll help.” In fact, I didn’t mind a bit. And I wasn’t just offering to win her favor either. I really enjoyed hanging out with her.

  I trudged along behind Bella into the kitchen, stunned to find it empty. Well, empty except for the dozens and dozens of dirty plates, bowls, cups, and silverware. She rolled up her sleeves and went to work, rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. I did my best to help, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

  She gave me an inquisitive look. “Can we go back to the conversation about Drew? I promise to leave it alone if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I grabbed a dirty plate and passed it her way.

  “He made it look like you two were a couple, but you’re not.”

  “Right.”

  “But you look really natural together, and it’s obvious you’ve got good chemistry.”

  “Seriously?” I shrugged. “Well, he’s a nice guy. But he is my competition, you know.”

  I could have slapped myself silly for saying that out loud.

  Bella glanced my way, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’re in the same business. I’m trying to grow my studio and he’s trying to grow his.” I hesitated. “Maybe it was wrong to say we’re in competition, but it feels like it. You know?”

  “But you’re both so good at what you do,” she said with a smile. “I think you’ll be equally successful. If you don’t spend too much time worrying about it.” She gave me a pensive look. “Are you worried about it?”

  Please don’t sigh out loud.

  I sighed aloud. “Yeah.” A lengthy silence followed as I thought through my next words. Might as well come clean. She would figure this out sooner or later. Besides, the sooner I got this off my chest, the better. “I have this . . . this . . . flaw.”

  “Flaw?” Bella paused from her work, clearly troubled by this statement. “What do you mean?”

  “I always come up short.”

  “Come up short? How?” She gazed at me with such intensity that vulnerability slipped over me like an ill-fitting garment, one I would like to discard as soon as possible.

  I shrugged. “I sometimes think the headstone on my grave will read, ‘Good but not great.’”

  Bella looked aghast at this idea and responded with, “Are you kidding?”

  “No. I really mean it.”

  “Whose standard are you measuring yourself by?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you comparing yourself to other people, or to yourself? Has someone put you in a position where you feel like you have to measure up or something? Maybe one of your parents?”

  “No, it’s not my parents.” I gave a deep sigh. “Neither of my parents has a competitive bone in their body. My dad makes out like he does by talking about the McDermott clan’s glory days, but he just loves a good story.”

  “So, where did this come from?”

  “From my grandpa Aengus, I guess. He always wanted the best for me. He said that being an Irish American was a privilege, and not one to be taken lightly. So he really thought I would go places. Make a name for myself.”

  “You have made a name for yourself. You own your own business, for Pete’s sake. And you’re only twenty-seven.”

  “Twenty-six.” I offered a weak smile.

  “See there? That makes you even more accomplished. You don’t have to be
good enough or prove yourself to anyone.”

  Shame washed over me afresh. “See, that’s the real problem right there.”

  “What?”

  “I have been trying to prove myself to everyone.”

  “Well, stop. Seriously. You’re awesome, and so are your photos. Just rest easy in that, Hannah. You’re going to go a long way. I know a pro when I see one.”

  “Thank you so much.” I really meant those words. She’d extended a hand of kindness in spite of my stupidity. “To be honest, it’s just kind of weird to see my sisters all married and living in other cities while I’m still in the same bedroom I grew up in. Ya know?”

  “You’re describing my life before I married D.J.” Bella grinned. “Only, add about twenty relatives to the mix, plus several extended family members and a host of friends and business associates.”

  “How did you handle it?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Honestly, I just focused on my work. A lot. Tried to stay busy. Didn’t really want to push any buttons with my parents because I knew they were worried about that whole empty-nest thing.”

  “I get it. Everything stays so busy, and yet . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence because unexpected tears sprang to my eyes.

  Bella stopped working and gave me a sympathetic look. “See now? I’ll bet I know just what you’re thinking. Something you probably didn’t even realize until now.” Her eyes filled with compassion and her next words were whispered. “You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

  Before I could stop it, the word “Yeah” slipped out. I hadn’t realized it, but she was right. Loneliness had enveloped me, and I’d given myself over to it.

  “Is it really possible to be lonely when you live in a house with your father who hardly gives you a minute to yourself and your mother folding your clothes?”

  “It’s possible. In fact, it’s possible to be surrounded on every side by noisy, crazy people and still feel like you’re all alone in the world. Ask me how I know.” She grinned and gestured to the mounds of dirty dishes.