by Lisa Scott
Moira had exhausted her favorite poses for the bridesmaids while they waited for the final groomsman to show up. She preferred when couples scheduled their photos before the wedding while everyone was still fresh and tidy. Many a weepy bride hadn’t been able to recover their hair and makeup after an especially emotional ceremony, and ended up unhappy with the photos later. There were no do-overs in life, and Photoshop could only do so much.
But apparently no one had told the groom’s cousin to show up at the Forest Park rose garden at ten a.m. Or he’d forgotten. Or overslept, who knew. It was ten thirty and they had to be leaving soon for the church. Luckily, the bride and groom Kristen and Tony weren’t fazed, chatting and laughing while they waited. However, the mother of the bride was fanning herself. “Just get her to the church before she backs out. Just get her to the church.”
Kristen touched her mother’s shoulder. “I’m not backing out this time.”
Her mother gave her a grim smile and patted her hand. “With three broken engagements, I won’t be happy until that wedding ring is on your finger. With super glue.”
Moira was ready to shoo the mother away before the bride started stressing—so much of good photography didn’t even involve the camera—when a guy in a tux ran up to them. “He’s here!” Kristen shouted.
Cheers erupted from the group. Moira focused the camera on him for a quick, candid picture. After snapping off a few shots, she froze, realizing who it was. The camera slipped from her grip. Good thing it was on a strap around her neck.
With trembling fingers, Moira positioned the camera again to be sure she was right. His face filled the lens: those dark blue eyes and dimples, the jet-black hair, and that small scar next to his eye. Yep, it was Craig Fitzpatrick, all right. Fitz, to his friends. Craig Fitzpatrick to her. It was a face she’d never forget. But hopefully, he’d forgotten hers.
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She’d photographed rock stars and politicians. Surely, she could handle her high school crush. He hadn’t noticed her back then; he certainly wouldn’t now. Plus, she did look different. The long, auburn hair that once hung past her hips, curled around her shoulders these days. At age twenty-eight, she finally wore makeup, and she’d traded in her glasses for contacts. Much easier to take pictures that way. Hopefully her name wouldn’t spark any memories, because the only thing Craig Fitzpatrick would remember about her was humiliating.
Craig buttoned his tux and joined the other guys. “Sorry for the hold up. Crisis at one of the job sites. Lumber company delivered the wrong order. The guys had no shingles to start the job.”
He took a bit of razzing, then said, “Hey, better me than Tony. I could’ve called him to deal with it.”
Tony clapped him on the back. “Thanks, cuz.”
While the two of them chatted, Moira realized how nicely Craig had filled out. His shoulders were even broader than they had been when he was a football player in high school. She’d forgotten how tall he was; at least six foot three. And his smile. Oh, that dazzling smile that had enchanted most of the girls at their school. No, he wouldn’t remember her. She was one of his many, many nameless admirers.
Moira realized she was just standing there, with camera in hand. She swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Let’s have all the guys in front of the roses over here.” As the guys lined up, she took some of the unposed shots she was so famous for. Clients always said she captured the real feel of the event with her candids. After taking a few shots of the groomsmen, she realized most of them centered on Craig.
She forced herself to focus on the groom and the other four attendants. It was going to be a long night, the way her heart was still pounding. Was it fear that he’d remember her? Or that he wouldn’t?
Stupid is what it is, because he never gave you the time of day. When she finished her shots of the entire wedding party, she checked her watch. “We’d better get to the church.”
She climbed into the limo with the bride, and photographed the girls chatting as they rode along.
“Tony’s cousin is hot,” said one of the bridesmaids.
“Fitz is single,” the bride’s sister said, teasingly.
Moira held back a smile at that news.
“Single? I can’t imagine why,” said another woman.
“Is he a player?” asked another.
“No,” said Kristen, smoothing her satin dress. “He’s a great guy. He’s just not ready to settle down; and of course, every girl he dates goes head over heels and wants to get married.” She shrugged. “It’s like women can’t help falling in love with him.”
Moira was going to have to keep herself busy—and far away from Craig. He was too distracting. Her assistant, Jackie, was meeting her at the church. Jackie usually positioned herself in the balcony. Today, Moira wanted to put some distance between her and the wedding party. It was a good time for Jackie to get her first shot at handling things on the floor.
***
But even that wasn’t enough space between them. At times during the ceremony, Moira found herself focusing the camera on Craig, not even taking any pictures; just looking at him. His smile had always seemed so genuine, that’s why it was so hard to believe what had happened that day so long ago. She’d been thoroughly embarrassed and had taken the next three days off school. Her parents hadn’t known; they’d both been out of town on business. Her housekeeper, Brigitte, didn’t say anything. She rarely did, she was so busy with all the work her parents left for her. Moira wasn’t even sure Brigitte knew how to speak English, so limited were their conversations. Moira hadn’t ever talked to a soul about what had happened.
She snapped out of her trip back in time and urged herself to focus. Tony and Kristen were counting on her to do the job right—not to revisit her teenage angst. She moved the camera away from Craig and captured the church’s stained glass windows, and the way the sun slanted in on the guests.
When the priest announced them husband and wife, the crowd erupted in cheers and Kristen’s mother slumped against her husband, presumably in relief that the deed was finally done. Moira imagined quite a few cocktails in that woman’s future. And in hers, after this day. But no, Moira didn’t drink on the job. She’d be sure to down a glass of wine or two when she got home.
It was time to hustle downstairs and photograph the procession out of the church. Moira smiled, seeing the bride and groom scoot out of the church hand in hand. She’d photographed countless weddings, and had a good sense of which couples were going to make it. Kristen and Tony looked smitten and happy.
It was a feeling she’d never known. Of course she’d had boyfriends, but no one who made her think, Yeah, I want that. Thing was, she did want that. She wanted a husband and children to love the way she wished she’d been loved. Guess there’s a reason so many musicians sing about not getting what you want. Happens a lot in real life. Maybe she’d have to settle for professional satisfaction. Perhaps that was all she’d ever get.
She and Jackie took plenty of pictures of the couple and the crowd. People were mingling, preparing to move to the reception site. She sensed someone approaching, and realized it was Craig. Luckily, the bride and groom wanted to take a few offsite pictures, so she rounded them up and escaped before she had to talk to Craig. Coward, she thought. But she was rattled enough just by him being there; talking about one of the worst moments of her life might put her over the edge.
She rode in the limo with Kristen and Tony to a rundown shopping plaza, where the two of them insisted on being photographed on top of a roof. She figured it was because Tony was one of the managers of a roofing company. Craig must work for the same company, she thought, remembering what he said when he’d shown up late.
That surprised her. She remembered how interested Craig had been during English class, challenging the teacher’s interpretation of different stories. Their photography teacher always cooed over his pictures. Moira always imagined him becoming a writer or a teacher. Heck, even a photographer. He was popular with students and teachers. Mr. Perfect. He could’ve done anything. But maybe he was happy working with his family.
After taking several fun shots of them kissing and posing on the roof, it was off to the reception site. The bride’s mother was ordering the staff around, and Moira suspected if they had their way, Tony and Kristen would call it a day and celebrate their nuptials in private.
Moira was busy photographing the small details of the day—the favors, the table decorations, the place cards—when Craig approached her again. She closed her eyes like he might disappear, then decided she might as well get this over with. She turned around and faced him.
He grinned. “Moira Moore? You went to Highland Academy, right?”
“Yes.” She tried to keep her face impassive so he couldn’t see the sadness behind the memories kicking her in the heart.
“I’m Craig Fitzpatrick. Fitz.” There was that killer smile of his.
She fiddled with her camera strap. “I remember. Your friends called you Fitz. We had a few classes together.”
Nodding, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She was trying her best not to sound shaken. Instead, she knew she came off as bitchy.
There was a thin line of perspiration above his lip. “I remember taking a photography class with you. You did some great work. Everybody thought so. You were good in front of the camera, too.”
Her throat tightened. Was he mocking her? Nobody paid any attention to her, until that day in the cafeteria when Carrie LaMont showed everyone Moira’s secret photography project. The one she never intended for anyone to see. Good in front of the camera, all right…
She sucked in a deep breath. “I seem to recall people finding my pictures very funny. Yourself included.” She started to walk away, but Craig grabbed her arm.
“Moira, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
She looked back and forced a smile, pulling her arm away. “It was ten years ago. It doesn’t matter now—Craig. If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.” Her heart pounded and she left, gripping her camera for support.
All night long, she replayed that encounter, and the many different ways she should have handled it. She managed to avoid him the rest of the night, and went home disappointed she hadn’t told him what she’d really felt that day: shame, ridicule, and one hundred kinds of hurt that he obviously hadn’t felt the same way about her, that she had felt about him.
Ten years ago that day, when Carrie had stood on a chair in the cafeteria and held up those pictures, everyone laughed. Including Craig. And just in case anyone missed it, Carrie had also printed out a few dozen wallet-sized copies to pass out. Some kind teacher had confiscated them all before the end of the day. But still, for weeks, people talked about how crazy Moira was thinking she stood a chance with Craig Fitzpatrick. The two of them at prom? Hilarious. And Craig had never said a damned thing to her.
When she’d made those pictures, she’d never imagined anyone else would see them. Mrs. Fielder, their photography teacher, had all the students take photos of each other one day, then self-portraits the next. Mrs. Fielder knew Moira loved her class, and would let her stay after school to work on her projects. She had even better cameras and equipment at home; she just liked her teacher’s company.
One day, after finishing touch ups on a photo contest entry, she had a little down time. On a lark, while working in the darkroom, she’d merged a picture of her and Craig together in a heart. Then she got a little crazy, adding crowns on their heads like they were prom king and queen in another picture. By the time she was done, she’d made half a dozen pictures of them together. She’d hung them up to dry, and then Mrs. Fielder called Moira to her desk to look over the new pictures from her trip to Ireland over spring break. She had a hilarious shot of a pig sleeping in the middle of the road she just had to show her. Moira had been so distracted, she’d forgotten all about the pictures in the darkroom.
And guess who had photography first period the next day? Carrie LaMont. Meanest girl to ever walk the halls of Highland Academy. Damn. If only photography class in 2002 had been digital. Moira has remembered the photos second period and snatched them up, thinking no one had seen them.
Of course, Carrie had just been careful to replace them exactly as she’d found them. She’d actually had the nerve to inquire about booking Moira for her wedding earlier in the season. When Jackie called back to say she wasn’t available, Carrie had gotten pissy and protested, “But we went to high school together.”
And bless Jackie’s heart, she’d said, “I’m sorry. Miss Moore is very much in demand.”
It was true. But that didn’t help Moira now, staring at the ceiling, wishing Craig’s face would stop popping into her thoughts. She punched her pillow a few times and tried to sleep, but it wasn’t going to happen. And she had another happy couple to photograph the next day. Sometimes, love really sucked; especially when you weren’t on the receiving end of it. But documenting it for others paid the bills. Yes, love made Moira’s world go round, just not in the way she wanted.
***
Craig drove home disappointed he hadn’t been able to talk to Moira before he left. He owed her an explanation. Now he wouldn’t get another chance. Could he just call her? She’d probably hang up. No, he needed a professional reason to visit her office. He thought about it as he drove along. Tony would be on his honeymoon the next week, leaving Craig in Tony’s position. Craig could go to her office to inquire about new promotional photos for the company. Well, it was something, anyway.
He jogged up the stairs to his apartment in the duplex he owned. It’d be fun to be in charge the next week. It’s not that he hated his job working on the crew. It just didn’t challenge him. The roofing job was the easiest landing for him after he lost his football scholarship at UMass freshman year when he got hurt. Not that he had other career plans in mind, but working on a crew for his uncle Jim hadn’t been on his short list. Collecting rent on the lower apartment covered his mortgage, so he’d built up a nice savings cushion, but for what?
He went to the fridge and popped open a beer, settling on the couch to catch the day’s sports’ highlights. He could’ve extended his night and gone out with the redhead who’d been tailing him all night, but he was too distracted by Moira to pay attention to another woman. He’d always thought Moira was pretty in high school; now, she was incredible. Successful, of course. That had never been in question. But still as cool and emotionless as she’d always been. Most people had assumed she was stuck up, that she thought she was better than everyone else because her parents were so wealthy—wealthy even by private school standards.
But Craig hadn’t been so sure that was it. He’d caught her daydreaming out the window often, looking more sad than snotty. She usually sat alone at lunch, reading a book. And she didn’t flaunt the latest designer clothes like most of the girls in school. Whatever her real story had been, Moira Moore had been entirely unapproachable in high school.
Which is why he had to explain why he’d reacted the way he did when Carrie LaMont held up those pictures. He’d been just as stunned as Moira. And then to make it worse, he’d laughed! It had been a nervous reaction, but she couldn’t have known that. He should have chased her out of the lunchroom that day. Truth was, he’d been afraid to, because what if she told him the truth—that she was too good for a guy from a middle class family of eight kids just a few paychecks away from the streets? Who’d never owned a new pair of jeans? Who’d never flown on a plane—while most of his classmates jetted across the country for long weekend getaways. Why would she ever be interested in him? Her reaction that day was proof enough.
He tipped back the rest of the beer. Seeing her today had made him determined to sort out the truth of what happened. He wanted her to know he hadn’t been laughing at her. Hell, he might even tell her he still had one of those pictures. He’d tucked it away in his desk at home that day way back when. It was currently in a box at the back of his closet.
He flicked off the TV, bummed that the Red Sox had lost again, but even more bummed that ten years later, Moira Moore still had zero interest in him.
***
It was stupid—totally juvenile and asinine—but Moira had pulled all the photos of Craig from the wedding and saved them in a special file. God, it felt like that day when she’d created all those embarrassing montages. She was examining her favorite—a candid shot of him listening to a story, a smile just quirking into place. He looked thoughtful and a bit mischievous. It showed his personality well. She wanted him to look at her like that. The phone rang, and she jumped as if she’d been caught fawning over his photo.
She answered the call with a curt hello.
“Moira, it’s Micki Keegan. Remember, from the Minx-Anderson wedding that never happened? And the Briggs-Harper wedding. Oh, and the LaMont-Ridley wedding. Listen, a reality show just called me. They’ve been reading my bridesmaid blog, and if I can throw together my wedding in a month, they’ll pay for the whole thing and I’ll be on their new show, Just Add I Do. And so will you! Please tell me you have some dates available in September. Please!”
She remembered Micki and her boyfriend from the wedding auditions one bride insisted on having her photograph. Yeah, she’d auditioned people to be in the wedding party. This business was getting crazier by the day. “I didn’t know you got engaged, Micki. When did he propose?”
“He didn’t. I did.”
Didn’t hear that one very often. Moira was impressed. “Wow.”
“I know. But when this opportunity came up, I thought why not? I know I want to be with him, even though I’ve been scared of marriage. Everyone else in my family is divorced. Marriage just never takes with us, like a bad transplant or something. But I thought if I were the first Keegan woman to do the proposing, maybe I’d be the first to stay married. So please tell me you can find a way to do this.” Her voice was sincere and desperate.
“Let me have a look.” Moira flipped through her calendar and frowned. “I’m totally booked. But if I can switch an engagement photo session on that second Sunday in September, I could squeeze in a wedding. Can you do a Sunday?”
“I’ll have to do a Sunday. Most things are booked up by now. Hey, maybe I’ll be the one to make Sunday the new Friday of weddings.”
Moira laughed. “Good luck.”
“Okay, three weeks from today.” Micki screamed.
Moira hung up, wondering if she could even accommodate the extra business that a reality show appearance would bring. She might have to take on another assistant. So much love. So much happiness. She was busy contemplating if she could still handle being a wedding photographer ten years from now if she wasn’t married by then, when the bell on her door jangled and someone walked in. Which was strange; she didn’t have any appointments scheduled.
She looked up and froze. It was Craig Fitzpatrick. She popped up from her chair and he looked at her, smiling. God, was she feeling woozy? She sat back down. Then his gaze shifted behind her. His smile fell and his eyebrows scrunched together.
That’s when she remembered the picture on her twenty-seven inch monitor. The candid of Craig about to smile. Remarkably, she kept her composure. “I was just going through pictures from your cousin’s wedding. You’ve always photographed well. Still do.”
He walked toward the monitor. “You sure you weren’t about to draw a big mustache on me?”
Her lips twitched. “Not a mustache. But maybe a pirate patch.”
He looked at her. Then he laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you crack a joke.”
“Once every ten years. I’m good for another decade now.”
That brought out another smile.
She stood up. “So, what brings you here today, Craig?” Moira asked, the classical music playing overhead doing nothing to calm her.
He ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “Well, to be honest, I had this big spiel about needing new promotional photos for my uncle’s roofing company, and coming to get a quote yada, yada, yada; but I’m not going to waste your time with that. I came here to see you.” He fixed her with a stare.
She felt one of her eyebrows raise. “Let me guess. You had a feeling I was going to defile one of your pictures and came to stop me?”
Cue the dimples. “Ah, now that’s two jokes in one decade.”
She couldn’t help but smile, too, but she held her hands behind her because they were shaking.
He took a few steps toward her. “I came to talk about pictures, but not the wedding pictures. The ones in high school. The ones Carrie LaMont showed everyone.”
Moira nodded and gestured for him to sit down in her reception area. If only she stocked scotch in her studio fridge instead of water. She sat down and said nothing, because she didn’t know what to say. It had the feel of a dream where you were called to the front of the class—in your underwear. The ugly ones kicking around in the back of the drawer.
Craig sat down across from her and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Moira, I feel horrible about that day. I never told you I was sorry. I had nothing to do with it, but I should have told Carrie off. I was just so stunned I didn’t know what to say. And then you didn’t show up to school the rest of the week. I guess by the time I saw you again, I figured I should just leave it be. I mean, you were so put off by the idea, you ran out of the cafeteria.”
She was so surprised she said nothing. He didn’t know. He didn’t know she’d made the pictures. And she surely wasn’t going to admit it now. She bumbled her words. “I just wasn’t used to being the center of attention like that. And you were laughing.” She looked at her shoes.
He held up a hand. “I know. I’m sorry. Normally, I stand up for people in situations like that. But I was embarrassed.”
She tried not to cringe. Of course he would’ve been embarrassed by a photo showing them as a couple. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shrugged. “No hard feelings. It was a long time ago.”
They both were quiet for a few moments until he broke the silence. “Our ten year reunion’s coming up this weekend. Are you going?”
She’d rather do school photo day. For pre-schoolers. Who’d skipped naptime and been given pixie sticks. “I’m sure I’ve got a wedding booked that day.”
He nodded. “Right. Busy season for you. I’m glad you’re doing so well. My sister Janice just got engaged and already knows she wants you to do the wedding. You know, since I’m here, do you think we could schedule a photo shoot with the crew? My uncle still has all his hair in the promotional picture we use in the phone book. And hell, I’m not even in it, that’s how old it is.”
“Of course. Let me check my calendar.” She should have said no. There was no reason to see Craig again. He didn’t know she’d made the sappy photos, they’d cleared the air, she should just move on—tell him she was booked up. But she didn’t. “I can move a few things around next week and set aside on hour on Tuesday morning?”
“I’ll make sure everyone’s clean and on time.” He shook her hand and left, and Moira got very little work done the rest of the day.
***
Craig got in his car and groaned. That didn’t go how he wanted. Ideally, Craig wanted to walk out of there with a date. She was supposed to have been charmed by his apology. He wasn’t full of himself, but everyone knew Craig never had a hard time with the ladies, but he didn’t quite know what to say to her. And time hadn’t changed Moira’s interest in him. He hoped Carrie was coming to the ten-year reunion. He had plenty to say to her.
He drove back to the office wondering if his uncle would be pissed he’d scheduled a photo shoot. He hadn’t even asked how much it would cost. But uncle Jim’s business was successful and growing, thanks to his cousin Tony’s great marketing ideas. And what had Craig contributed? Not much. His life certainly hadn’t turned out like his parents had probably expected when their fifth child won a scholarship to Highland Academy. He would’ve been better off in public school. At least then he wouldn’t have been the only kid without a car. Or a beach house on the cape.
Uncle Jim was sitting in front of his computer, bitching about the Red Sox. “I’d like to be there to boo them in person next time they strike out with bases loaded.”
Craig sat across from him. “They’re in town tomorrow. Go catch a game. I’ve got things covered here.”
Uncle Jim leaned back in his chair. “You serious?”
“Of course.”
His uncle pointed at him. “I think I’ll take you up on that. Maybe I’m the good luck charm they need. I’ve got two estimates lined up tomorrow. You can handle that, right?”
“Sure.”
“Good. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Craig laughed. He was sure he’d feel the same way after he’d put in several decades of breaking his body in the hot sun. Thing was, he hadn’t been too disgruntled with his job until he saw Moira.
“Hey, I scheduled a session for a new promotional photo.”
Uncle Jim rolled his eyes.
“Now wait a minute. The picture you’ve been using doesn’t have half the crewmembers on it. We’re going to looking bigger and more professional if we get everyone in the picture.”
Uncle Jim stood up and walked over to him, patting him on the back. “And with your handsome mug in the picture, we’ll be rolling in the dough. Good idea, kid.”
It was a good idea. Because it was another chance to see Moira.
***
While he was disappointed Moira wouldn’t be at the reunion, he was excited to see some old friends. Friends he swore he’d stay in touch with, but hadn’t seen for years, even though they were still living in Springfield, too. But when he walked in the restaurant and saw Carrie LaMont at the bar, all desire to rehash the big trip to the state championship with his football buddies was pushed aside.
Balling up his fists, he took a deep breath and walked over to her, hot as ever. “Hey, Carrie.”
She hopped off her barstool. “Fitz! Oh my god. How are you?” She forced a hug on him. “You look great.” She flashed a wedding ring and smiled with a flirty shrug. “Sorry, you’re a few months too late. Brain Surgeon, we’re building a new house.”
He closed his eyes and forced a smile. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Look closer.” She stuck out her chest. “Say hello to my new double D’s.”
Craig pursed his lips, uninterested in her new plastic accessories. “Hey, I wanted to ask you about something that happened back in high school. During lunch.”
She snapped her fingers. “I was trying to remember who’d gone into the broom closet with me.” She closed her eyes dreamily. “You were good.”
He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t me. No, this was something else. With pictures.”
“Oh, you bought one of those pictures I took of Samantha Cooper and her little bitty titties?” She giggled. “I made like, five hundred bucks selling those.”
He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “No. I didn’t. The ones of me and Moira Moore.”
She covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that.”
“I bet you did. But I haven’t. And I’ve always wanted to tell you that it was cruel.”
Her jaw dropped, and she swept her hair off her shoulders. “Oh, come on. That was nothing.”
This was true. Compared to some of the things she’d done, this was nothing. “But why did you do it? Why would you make those pictures?” He crossed his arms.
Music from their high school days thumped in the background. Carrie’s eye widened. “I didn’t make those pictures. I found them. On the computer in the photo lab. Moira hadn’t signed off yet.”
His arms slid to his sides. He hadn’t been expecting that. “She made them? Moira?”
Carrie nodded. “Clearly she liked you. So I told her you wanted to ask her something during lunch—and reminded her it was prom season,” she said in a lilting voice. “Then I printed them out and brought them to lunch.” She shrugged. “I was trying to be a matchmaker. It wasn’t my fault you didn’t like her.” She rolled her eyes. “God. And everyone says I was so mean. But come on. It was just Moira Moore. She was so stuck up.”
He was too pissed off to stay. He wanted to find Moira, to ask her if it was true. Had she really liked him in high school? Him?
“Fitz, don’t leave,” Carrie cooed. “She ran her hand down his shirt. “I thought we could catch up. I could see if they’ve got a broom closet since you missed out on that.” She arched an eyebrow.
“Carrie, there’s a reason we never hooked up in high school.”
“Bad timing?”
“I don’t date bitches. Or whores.” He turned around and left without bothering to see the look on her face. He drove around town and considered stopping at a few hotels to crash the wedding receptions. Maybe she’d be working. But he didn’t want to upset her while she was on the job; and he didn’t want to ruin his shot at a second chance, if he was lucky enough to get her to listen.
***
Moira had been both dreading and dreaming about the photo shoot with Craig. She didn’t fuss any more than usual with her hair and makeup that morning, because why bother? She would be professional and courteous and fast as hell so she didn’t have to spend any more time with him than needed.
“So, why’d you say yes in the first place?” she asked herself.
With no answer to that, she packed up her car, drove to the site, and found three dozen men with deep tans and grubby fingers waiting for her. They stood in front of a newly roofed house joking around and enjoying a break from work. Craig jogged up to her. “Need help with anything?”
It was like the wind had gotten knocked out of her just being around him. She gulped in a breath. “No, I just need a few minutes to get set up. Everyone here?”
“Yep. And I hope you noticed how punctual I am this time.”
With shaky hands, she unloaded her gear. “Too bad I left all my gold stars back in the studio.”
He smirked. “That wasn’t another joke, was it?”
“Probably just half a joke.” She wanted to be serious around him, not semi-flirty. But Craig Fitzpatrick had that effect on women. “Could you get everyone lined up in front of the building?”
“I was thinking some of us could be on the roof, and others on the ladder?”
“Good idea. I’ll do some with you all posed in front, and a few fun ones like you described.”
He grinned, like she really had given him a gold star.
The photo shoot was easy, once the guys got their horsing around out of their system. And she couldn’t help it. She took a few shots just of Craig. Fine. More than a few.
As she packed up her stuff, and the guys hopped in their trucks to get back to work, Craig approached her. “I’ve got an hour or so for lunch. Want to grab something to eat?”
Her heart quickened. “I brought an apple and a sandwich to eat while I drive. I’ve got a shoot in half an hour.”
He drummed his fingers on the roof of her car. “Can I ride with you?”
She looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“Thought I’d give you the rundown of the class reunion.”
“Sure. But I’ll put you to work.”
“At your service.”
***
Craig didn’t say anything about the reunion on the drive over. God, they hadn’t blown up the damn pictures and shown them, had they? In some stupid highlight reel?
After helping unload the gear, Craig sat on the grass and watched her work. Moira was photographing an expectant mother and father with their four kids. She should have been self-conscious working in front of Craig, but she often got lost in her work, thinking of new poses, tinkering with the settings to capture the perfect image.
“Craig, can you hand me that black bag?”
He picked it up and brought it to her. “You can call me Fitz. Everyone else does.”
“Your friends do. I was never your friend.”
He said nothing and sat back down. When the youngest boy tried to run away from the photo session, Craig scooped him up and carried him back to his grateful parents.
“Thanks,” said the father.
“No problem. I had eight kids in my family, and I was right in the middle. I have lots of experience wrangling little escapees.”
Moira finished up and gathered her things. “I always thought it would be fun to have so many brothers and sisters.”
He forced a smile. “Everyone without a big family says that.” He shrugged. “There’s good and bad to it.”
“What was the bad?”
“Bathroom time. Hand me downs. Going to a rich school when you come from a poor family. How can you not be poor with so many mouths to feed?”
“Seems like you turned out all right.”
He shrugged. “I dropped out of college when I got hurt playing football, I know my folks were disappointed. They wanted more for me.”
“Mine too. That happens in wealthy families, too. You’re not alone there.”
He gave her a funny look. “But, you’re a hotshot photographer. You’re incredibly successful. No surprise at all, by the way.”
“Thanks, but they don’t share your enthusiasm. It’s not a very impressive job to brag to their friends about.” She tugged her hair behind her ears. “They keep thinking it’s a phase I’ll grow out of, that I’ll get my act together and go to law school or med school.”
“Mine, too. Well, not law school, but something else.” He looked off for a moment, quiet. “I do alright with the roofing job and I own a duplex. Pays the bills and then some.”
“Would you ever think of doing something else?” She climbed in the car and he followed.
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Buy more duplexes for start. I bet you could fix up old houses, rent them out, and eventually just live off the rent money. That’s what I’d do.”
“Yeah, well you were always a lot smarter than me.”
She paused with her key in the ignition. “And how would you know anything about my grades? Or anything about me? I didn’t think you knew me at all until that day with Carrie.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I saw her, you know. At the reunion.”
Moira rolled her eyes.
“I told her she was a bitch for what she did to you.”
She froze. “Really? What did she say?”
“It was interesting. She said she didn’t make those pictures. She said you did.”
Moira’s stomach rolled.
Craig settled his hand on the back of the seat and leaned closer. He softened his voice. “Was she telling the truth, Moira? Because I was actually happy to hear that.”
“You were?”
“I liked you. I always thought you were pretty and interesting. So different from all the other girls. In a good way. But you were so quiet, I had no idea how to approach you. I didn’t know if you thought you were better than everyone or if you were just shy. And when I first saw those pictures Carrie held up, I was thrilled. I liked the idea. Then when you showed up and looked so horrified, I realized someone like you would never settle for someone like me.”
Moira’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, right? Someone like you? You were the most popular guy in school. Every girl loved you. Why would you ever think I was too good for you?”
He pulled his hand away from her seat. “You never said much to me unless it involved an assignment. And your parents were rich. They’re disappointed in your being a successful photographer? Imagine bringing me home to your parents.”
She pursed her lips. “The good thing is, I stopped caring what they think a long time ago. I would’ve been proud to bring you home and that’s all that matters.”
He grinned. “Really? So, you liked me in high school?”
She knew her cheeks were turning red. “Like I said, every girl did. It was a long time ago. I was a silly girl when I made those pictures.”
His smile fell. “Right.”
“It was so embarrassing.”
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
She turned in her seat to face him. “Craig, I had very few friends in school. Everyone loved you. Even though we were both in that picture Carrie held up, people were laughing at me. Like I ever had a shot with you. How ridiculous, right?”
“No. It wasn’t. Moira, I just told you I liked you.”
“Easy to say now. Back then, would you have asked me to prom if you’d known I liked you? As I recall, you went with Carrie’s friend Lacy Marks. You’re telling me, you would’ve asked me instead?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know. Things were so stupid back then. It was like only people in our little social group could date each other. I don’t know if I would have been strong enough to break that unspoken rule. But when I saw those pictures that day, I didn’t think it was funny. I thought, yeah, it would be cool to go to prom with her.”
Moira drew in a long breath, trying to find her composure. “Too bad there are no do-overs from high school. It would have been nice.”
“Why not try now?”
She looked away from him, running her thumb along the steering wheel. “I can’t ever forget it happened. You don’t understand the humiliation that caused me.” After a moment, she looked back at him. “I’m glad we cleared this up, but I don’t think it could work between us after what happened.”
He sighed, then nodded. “I’m truly sorry, Moira.”
“Me, too.”
She started the car and drove him back to his office. “Hey, stop by the office next Wednesday, and I’ll show you the proofs after I’m done touching them up.”
He got out of the car and stared at her, like he was going to say something else. But he just said, “Sure thing. I’ll stop by after lunch.”
Her heart hurt like hell as he walked away.
She went back to the studio and should’ve downloaded the pictures she’d just taken. But she spent the next hour staring out the window at the trees bobbing and swaying in the wind. Her emotions seemed to be doing the same thing. Why couldn’t she let this go?
***
Craig knew he should just let this go. Moira had told him she wasn’t interested, that it was too late. But if she’d liked him once, couldn’t she like him again? She was talented, professional, funny (who knew) and of course, beautiful. But she was kind, too. He’d let her run away once before. He wasn’t going to do it again. But how?
He told his uncle he was calling it an early day and went home wishing things were different; with Moira, with work, with everything. And it didn’t seem like he’d be able to change one damned thing. Was there anyway to salvage things with her?
***
When it was time to review the photos, he still hadn’t come up with a good idea to convince her to go out with him, and he couldn’t blow it again. He sat in the reception area of her studio while she finished up with another client. Craig was surprised when he recognized the guy coming out. “Ben Shanahan?” He stood up and shook his hand. “You were a couple years ahead of me at Highland.”
“Hey, Fitz. I remember you from the JV team. Caught a few of your games after I graduated. Sorry about what happened at Umass.”
Craig nodded. “Shit happens.”
Moira held up a finger. “Give me just a sec. I’m going to get your pictures set up while you chat.”
“What are you doing here?” Craig asked Ben.
Ben put his arm around a cute brunette. “This is my fiancée Micki Keegan. We’re getting married in a week.”
Craig pumped his hand, then hers. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Micki said. “Moira’s been so kind. We’re throwing this together at the last minute to be part of a reality show. They’re paying for the whole thing, and at the end of the season, viewers pick their favorite wedding, and the couple gets twenty-five thousand dollars for a down payment on a house.”
“That’s incredible,” Craig said.
Ben beamed at her. “Micki’s a wedding planner, so she’s got a lot of great ideas.”
“Yeah, and the best one was deciding to marry you.”
Normally, Craig would want to gag when witnessing this kind of talk. Then he’d slink off and celebrate his single status with a beer. But seeing the two of them together so damn happy made him sad. Then, he got an idea.
“We should get together sometime,” Ben said.
Craig raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Because I’d like to talk to your fiancée.”
***
Moira’s hand shook as she clicked the files that popped the pictures onto the screen. “We’ve got some really nice ones to choose from, but I like the casual ones you suggested best.”
Craig nodded. “Yep, once in a while, I get a good idea. Like the two of us going out.”
She settled her hands in her lap. “Craig….”
He leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. “Why not?”
“I…” Her hands twirled in the air like that motion might produce some good answer.
He pointed at her. “See? You can’t come up with a good reason.”
She closed the files, and turned to the order form. “Just let me know what your uncle decides.”
He stood up and took the paperwork from her. “I will. Thanks for the great pictures.”
“And thank you for the work.”
He headed for the door, and then looked back to her. “I’m going to give you some time, but I will ask you out again. Hopefully, the third time will be a charm. If not, I’ll drop it. But I have a feeling you don’t want me to.” Then he left.
***
Moira kept expecting to hear from Craig, asking her on another date, but he didn’t call. Maybe he’d changed his mind. But she couldn’t worry about that. She had Micki and Ben’s wedding to worry about, and she was worried. She didn’t like being in front of the camera. She liked being behind the lens, framing the world the way she saw fit. Too bad it wasn’t a power she could use for every situation.
The morning of the wedding, she was as jittery as a bride, but she couldn’t back out now. She’d promised Micki, and she’d signed a waiver agreeing to be part of the show. Micki had thrown together an incredible wedding in just weeks. Driving to Forest Park, she took a few deep breaths telling herself she’d already been through the most humiliating experience of her life back in high school. This would be nothing.
***
Micki and Ben had exchanged vows at Forest Park and set up a huge tent for the reception. Apparently, there weren’t enough roses in the rose garden for a reality wedding, because Fulton landscaping brought several dozen pots of coral-pink roses; the containers wrapped in white tulle for the guests to take home as a favor. The owner, Kevin, and his new wife, Miranda, scattered petals along the aisle and on the tables.
Her friend, Samantha, and her husband Justin brought their food truck, serving up shot glasses of New England clam chowder and tiny chicken potpies as appetizers. Micki had arranged a lot of unique touches Moira had never seen—and that was saying something; Moira thought she’d seen it all. Guests crammed into a photo booth for silly poses. A flash mob crashed the wedding, singing a few love songs from the Beatles.
Moira had so many moments to capture, that she barely noticed the three video cameras that zoomed in on her from time to time. Of course, everyone scrambled for a shot of the peacocks gone wild. Moira thought she’d seen the last of them after the Minx-Anderson wedding was called off. Kelly and Micki were chosen to be bridesmaids in that wedding and had become friends. But Micki didn’t look happy at the appearance of those birds.
Micki gathered the train of her dress and marched over to Kelly and Liam surrounded by squawking fowl. “What are you doing? I hate animals in weddings.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “But they’re fancy. And your wedding’s going to be on TV. Bet none of the other couples will have peacocks. Viewers are going to vote on their favorite episode, and they’ll definitely remember the one with the peacocks!”
Despite the racket they were making, the guests flocked around the birds, tossing them oyster crackers left over from their soup. The videographers were gobbling up the whole thing, kneeling down to get close ups of the birds.
Kelly was right, Moira thought. This would make for a few good clips. Moira put her arm around Micki. “Calm down. The more crazy, unexpected things that happen, the better.” And it was all a nice distraction from Craig. Just the thought of him brought a little pang to her heart. She’d love to see him laughing over this.
Micki sighed. “You’re right. It’ll make for good TV.” She looked at Moira. “So, you think unexpected is good?”
Moira nodded, and Micki and grinned. “Excellent.” Then she sauntered over to the birds. She looked back over her shoulder. “Hey, maybe animal rentals can be part of my wedding planning services.”
Once people had cooed over the peacocks, and knocked back their cocktail hour drinks, the guests gathered under a tent for dinner. Sam and Justin passed out tiny picnic baskets for each couple, filled with lobster rolls, gourmet potato salad and corn fresh off the cob served in cups made from the husks. It was such a unique event, that Moira was having a blast taking pictures.
As dinner ended, Micki stood up to thank everyone for coming. “Most of you know I’ve been a bridesmaid in dozens of weddings. Maybe you’ve read my blog, Bridesmaid Blues. But the truth is, I never wanted to get married. I didn’t think I’d get it right. Then I met Ben and started questioning my decision. And his daughter Alexis? Well, she just sealed the deal.”
Moira zoomed in on the little girl who looked adoringly up at Micki.
“So tonight, I ask you to raise your glass to love. Whether you’re deep in the throes of it, still looking for it, or convinced it could never happen to you.” She raised her glass and the guests clinked their glasses, saying, ‘Here, here!’ Moira’s assistant, Jackie, focused on shots of the crowd while Moira photographed the couple.
“On that note, what could be more romantic at a wedding than helping love bloom? My new husband—” she squealed at this, and continued, “My new husband Ben would like to introduce you to someone special.”
Moira pursed her lips. They hadn’t mentioned this mystery guest when they’d run down the events for the reception, but maybe this was a last minute decision to liven up the TV show—if peacocks and a flash mob hadn’t been enough.
Ben took the microphone from Micki and kissed her. That earned a big awww from the crowd. “Thanks everyone for being here tonight. I know this was last minute, but Micki and I didn’t want to wait. We’re ready to start our lives together as a family. But the man I’m going to introduce you to tonight has been waiting a very long time for his girl. And he’s hoping for a second chance after he blew it over a decade ago. I’d like you to meet my buddy, Fitz. Craig Fitzpatrick. Come on up, Fitz.”
Moira’s fingers felt numb. At least she didn’t drop the camera this time, but she couldn’t even manage to press the shutter button; which was a shame. Because Craig Fitzpatrick ran into the tent wearing a pale blue tuxedo. The guests roared with laughter, then whistled and applauded.
She knew she should be photographing this. Luckily, Jackie was snapping away, with a huge grin on her face.
Craig took the microphone from Ben and stood in front of the head table. “I need to thank Micki and Ben for letting me crash their wedding and right a wrong that I’ve been dragging around with me for ten years.”
Moira could feel the heat creeping up her chest. She knew bright red splotches were working their way up her neck. Still, she took a deep breath and fought the urge to run. Or duck. Or cover her eyes like a kid thinking no one could see her if she couldn’t see them.
Craig pointed at her. “That woman, our photographer tonight. You’ve probably all heard of Moira Moore.”
She heard some mumbling from the crowd and a smatter of applause.
“I knew her back in high school. And I had the chance to ask her to prom. But I blew it big time, and she ended up in an embarrassing situation I’ve regretted ever since. I hope you know how sorry I am, Moira.”
The crowd interjected with a long awww. She tried to ignore the fact that every camera in the room was panning back and forth between her and Craig. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“So tonight, I’m doing my best to put myself in an even more embarrassing situation than you were in, Moira. In front of an even bigger crowd.” He pointed at one of the cameras and everyone laughed, Moira included.
Then Craig held out his hand. “So let me finally get it right. Moira, it’s not the prom, but will you be my date for this wedding?”
She swallowed, hoping to find her voice. “I’d love to, but I’m working.” She held up her camera with a shrug.
“No problem, boss,” Jackie said. “You’ve taught me well. I’ve got you covered.”
Moira stared at Craig, who was holding out his hand for her. The crowd started chanting ‘Moira, Moira!’
“But I’m not dressed for a wedding,” she countered. Which was true. She was wearing a pair of the black pants and white v-neck shirt she always wore while photographing a wedding.
“Good thing your fairy godmother showed up,” Kelly said, stepping under the tent. “We brought you a dress!” She held up a garment bag.
“You guys all knew about this?” Moira asked.
“Not everyone,” Micki said, gesturing to the guests, who laughed.
The crowd started chanting her name again. She really had no choice but to play along, but the truth was, she was excited. Craig had gone to a lot of trouble to ask her out again—his third and final time. Moira shrugged and handed her camera to Jackie. “Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.” That got a huge applause from the crowd and a giant grin from Craig.
Kelly hurried over with the garment bag, and led Moira to the nearby restrooms. She’d brought three dresses in Moira’s size. She chose a pale pink evening gown. “This is crazy,” Moira said.
“Love usually is. True love, anyway. Look at me and Liam—we’re getting married after knowing each other just a few weeks.”
Moira turned around from Kelly and slipped off her top. “I knew you two had chemistry when I was taking your pictures for the Minx-Anderson wedding audition. You had more spark than the bride and groom.” Moira slipped the dress on, then slid off her pants. “Not so surprised they broke up.”
“I thought it would take a little longer than it did. But thankfully, they never made it to the altar.” Kelly zipped up the back and Moira turned around. “You look great. I brought makeup, but I don’t think you need any. Should we do something different with your hair?”
Moira usually wore it pulled back while she worked, so she unfastened the clip and let it fall to her shoulders. Kelly fluffed it a bit for her. “You look fantastic. Oh, here. Some better shoes.” She handed her a pair of crystal clear pumps. “I figured they’d match whatever dress you chose.”
Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined this Cinderella scenario.
“You ready?” Kelly asked.
Moira sucked in a breath and nodded. They approached the tent, and Micki and Ben were finishing their first dance—with Alexis cuddled in her daddy’s arms between the two of them. Moira gritted her teeth, wishing she could have photographed that. But then she saw Craig waiting for her, and her heart soared. Well, that was a good sign, wasn’t it?
The DJ tapped his microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for our bride and groom.” Lots of clapping and whistling followed that. “And now let’s have a big round of our applause for Fitz and Moira and the biggest romantic do-over of the decade.”
The guests rose for a standing ovation as Craig stood on the dance floor, holding a corsage in his hand, waiting for Moira to approach. She came up to him wishing she could calm her heart.
“You look amazing,” he said.
“So do you.” Her eyes flicked up and down him. “In your own way. I didn’t go to prom, but I don’t imagine anyone wore powder blue.”
“I’m doing my best to embarrass myself.”
“You’re doing a good job with it.”
“And you almost told another joke.” He looked at the spray of roses in his hand. “Oh, I got this for you.” His hands hovered over her breasts and everyone laughed.
“Let me.” Not that she’d ever done it before, but after a few tries she got it attached to her dress.
Then the music started playing. More of those lovely coral-pink petals showered from the ceiling, and bubbles floated in the air. Craig held out his hand and she took it, letting herself be led around the dance floor. He didn’t try any fancy moves, just slowly turned her around the dance floor to It Had To Be You. She shivered, thinking how appropriate the words were.
“This was our prom song,” he said.
She nodded. “I remember. Did you have fun with Lacy?”
He rolled his eyes. “She was drunk when I picked her up, and threw up half way through the dance. Yet they still crowned her prom princess.”
“Sounds about right.”
He pulled her closer, snaking his hand across her shoulder, up to the back of her neck, rubbing his thumb along her skin. “I was thinking about you that night. How I would’ve had more fun with you.”
She almost tripped. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t kidding when I said I liked the pictures. I remember thinking how pretty you were. And how nice it would be to get to know you.”
She hoped the look she gave him showed her disbelief.
While still dancing, he reached in his pants pocket and pulled something out. “I still have one of those pictures.” He handed it to her.
She stopped dancing and examined the picture of her and Craig with the crowns on their heads. She looked up at him—and saw two video cameras behind him. But she didn’t care. “You really kept this all those years?”
He nodded. “I just never imagined I’d have the chance to make things right. At least, I hope I’ve made it right.”
Nodding, she blinked back tears. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me, Craig.”
He kissed her head. “I’m glad to be the first. So don’t you think you should be calling me Fitz by now?”
She shook her head. “You were Fitz in high school. You’re something so much more now.”
He pulled her close, when she felt something on her head. She reached up and realized Micki had slipped a crown on her. Ben had put one on Craig.
“Long may your love reign,” Micki said, before splitting a gut with laughter. Then she turned to the crowd. “And the rest of you. If you believe in love, get on up here!”
Couples scattered from their tables, filling the dance floor. Moira nestled her head against Craig’s chest. “So, I take it this means you’ll be going out with me on that date?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “Oh, no. This is the date. That’s it.”
He looked stunned, then laughed. “Next decade’s joke?”
“Delivered a bit early, I know.” She laughed and let him take her in his arms. She wondered how they’d look in a picture right then. She wished she could take it herself. But she shook the idea away. She didn’t need a picture to remember this. She’d never forget it.
Happy couples filled the dance floor all around them, many of whom she’d photographed at their own weddings, in their own love story. So this is what it feels like.
“I took your advice,” he said.
That snapped her out of her daze. “About what?”
“I’m buying another rental. Ever since I saw you again, Moira, I’ve wanted more for myself. You know, professionally.”
She smiled. “And ever since I’ve seen you, I’ve wanted more for myself personally.”
“See? We are king and queen.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Of do-overs.”
She laughed and tipped up on her toes to kiss him, fairly certainly she’d see that on camera later.
Micki and Ben waltzed past. “That was awesome you guys! The producer says our episode will win for sure. With the live ice sculptor and the skywriter’s message after the vows and now you two? They were impressed. And they say to give them a call when you get married.” She winked at them.
Moira blushed, but Craig said, “We will.”
Kelly and Liam were dancing close by. “We’ll lend you our peacocks,” Kelly offered.
Moira scrunched her nose. “Maybe not.”
So many smiling, happy couples whirled around them. Justin and Samantha took a break from their catering truck for a quick dance. Even Craig and Miranda left rose duty for a moment for a spin on the dance floor. Oh, how she wished she could be photographing it all.
It was like Craig was reading her mind. He laughed. “One thing’s for sure—we’d never be able to find a good enough photographer.”
Moira smiled at him; then fireworks crackled overhead and Micki said, “Right on cue!” The guests all bustled outside to see, but Craig and Moira stayed in their embrace, and he caught her up in a kiss that brought on it’s own round of fireworks.
Then he whirled her around the room and kept her out well past dawn, just like any good prom date would.
***
Also, check out other Flirts! collections—Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories, Beach Flirts!, Holiday Flirts!, Fairy Tale Flirts!, More Flirts!, Reunion Flirts! and Fairy Tale Flirts 2! You might also enjoy Lisa’s romantic novella, Spouse Hunting. The first two novels in her Willowdale romance series, No Foolin’ and Man of the Month are now available.