He bends his knees for a kiss. “I thought you were doing happy hour.”
“I changed my mind.” When I’d asked Benny what she was up to tonight, she hadn’t extended an invitation. “I want to come with you instead.”
He looks at me in the reflection. “To the rehearsal dinner? But it’s a job.”
“So?”
“So if you come, they might figure out who you are.”
“I thought you said the bride was referred to you by a previous client.”
“She was, but still. If she’s seen our photos, it wouldn’t take much to put it together.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. I’ve been having thoughts about that. Dangerous thoughts, or maybe exciting ones—I haven’t decided. The night Ken was here changed some things for me. After he left, Finn and I fucked into dawn, all different ways, until he passed out. I, on the other hand, had never felt more alive, more owned, inside and out. I’d read my darkest desires cover to cover, some of it aloud to myself for the first time. When Finn had recited my words to me with Ken’s finger in my mouth, I understood his message—he accepts me as I am, and he’ll always take care of me. And I began to wonder—if I’m lucky enough to have that, why do I care what others think? This is a different time than when my mom had her accident, and my name was news. People’s names are splashed across the tabloids on a daily basis and forgotten within hours. I’m finally starting to see what Finn’s been trying to show me. I’m my own woman. I don’t need to be afraid of my dad or anyone else. My talent draws people in.
I want to do this as much for him as myself. “What if they did put it together?”
Finn stops tightening the knot of his tie. “What do you mean?”
“I think I want to reveal my identity.”
He turns around. “You think?”
“No—I do.”
“That’s, uh . . . a big deal.”
“I know. I’ve been toying with the idea for a few weeks.”
“It’s the first I’m hearing of it, though.”
I wasn’t aware I had to run it by him. Aside from the rules we laid out that first day, I’ve never tried to regulate what he posts or how he presents himself on our account. “Do I need your permission?”
“It’s something we need to discuss, yes. And take some time to consider.”
“Actually, since we’re going to hit a hundred-thousand tomorrow, and it’s your birthday, I thought maybe we could do it then. A big reveal to celebrate.”
He gapes at me. “Just like that? Do you realize . . . I mean, that can’t be undone, Hals. Once it’s out there, that’s it.”
I blink in disbelief. Finn’s encouraged me for a while to own my sexuality, my weirdness, my words. I would’ve thought he’d like to see me breaking out of my shell. “Yes, I realize that.”
He checks his watch. “I have to leave, like, now. We can finish this later, but let’s just say it’s not happening tomorrow. No way.”
I frown, disappointed. This is our project, not his. That’s exactly it, though. I have to respect his opinion if I want the same from him. I won’t let him talk me out of revealing myself, but I can respect that he wants to announce it in his own time. “Okay. I just need to change.”
“Hals, it’s my job. I don’t think I’m supposed to bring a date.”
It’s his job. Nothing to do with me, even though I’m half the reason his career is even taking off. “We’ll tell them I’m your assistant,” I say. “I’ll hold your camera, and I won’t eat. They sound like stuffy uptowners anyway. I doubt they’re up on the latest social media trends.”
“All right.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up after he’d clearly styled it. “You have five minutes.”
I pop up off the bed, grinning, and fix his hair. At the closet, I hurriedly browse through my things. Finn gave me half the space, but it’s cramped. We had to put our summer things in a bin under the bed. I haven’t been to a wedding in ages, but luckily I have no shortage of little black dresses. I pick the simplest one and pair it with heels, jewelry, tights, and a clutch. I come out of the closet a new woman. Well, as new as I can become in five minutes. Okay, eight.
Finn’s waiting for me in the entryway.
“Well, well,” he says, smiling. “You’ll get me in trouble for showing up the bride.”
I roll my eyes. No amount of primping could erase a full day at work. “Thanks for letting me come. It means a lot.”
He takes my hand. “Don’t think I won’t put you to work.”
It turns out the bride and groom are over-the-top welcoming and not the least bit old-fashioned. I try to make myself invisible by shadowing Finn, but they insist we sit at the table and partake in grilled salmon and expensive wine. Finn gets up every few minutes to capture speeches and candids. Watching him work in this capacity is like seeing him through new eyes. He’s overdressed, and ridiculously handsome, but it’s his focus and skill with the camera that keeps my attention.
“What kind of lens is he using?”
I turn to find that Eric, the groom-to-be, has taken the seat next to mine. “Um. I’m not sure.”
“I thought you were the assistant.”
“I mostly just hold things.”
He laughs. “Sounds like my impending position of husband.”
“I also have to tell him how great he is or he gets cranky.”
“Same with Elyse,” Eric says. “You’re writing my job description right now. More wine?”
I’ve already had a glass, but tonight, we’re celebrating—Eric and Elyse. Finn’s birthday and his burgeoning career. My big decision to come out and one-hundred K. I slide my wineglass over for a refill.
Elyse walks up, waving an envelope. “For this weekend,” she says, sitting on the other side of me, in Finn’s chair. “Your boss won’t take it until the job is done, but I just want it gone. All the outgoing envelopes of money are giving me anxiety.”
I smile, slipping the check under the table and into his camera bag. “I’ll hide it from him until Sunday.”
“So do you guys do many weddings?” she asks.
The answer is no. In fact, I think this is Finn’s first, but I don’t want to ding his credibility. I drink Pinot Noir while thinking of an answer. “I’m new, so no,” I say. Not technically a lie. “I’ve never done one.”
“Done one what?” Finn asks, planting his hands on the back of my chair. I look up at him, and he winks.
“Wedding,” I answer. “As a photographer’s assistant.”
“That makes two of us,” Finn says.
“Really?” Elyse looks surprised. “I wouldn’t have thought so. I guess I should’ve asked.” She laughs. “Luckily, we’re easygoing.”
“Who was it that recommended you again?” Finn asks. “I didn’t catch the name when we were on the phone.”
“Oh, well, actually . . .” She lowers her voice, leaning in. “That’s not true. I was a little embarrassed to say, but,” she and Eric exchange a glance, “we found you because of your other photos.”
Wait. Other photos? Mine?
My jaw drops. I’d wondered fleetingly whether they’d nosed around Finn’s website and found the link to our account . . . but this! A real-life encounter with our followers.
Finn laughs stiffly. “And your first thought was wedding photographer?”
“We’re a little non-traditional if you can’t tell,” Elyse says. “We were so sick of fake smiles and tears, awkward prom poses. At the last minute, we came across your work and decided to scrap our other photographer. We want something more original.”
I look up again, but Finn’s stepped back, outside my line of vision. “Wow. I’m glad,” he says, although he doesn’t sound glad.
Oh my God.
This couple, sitting next to me?
They’ve seen me half-naked. And they liked what they saw. Enough to hire Finn for the biggest day of their lives.
Did they like what they read too?
I take a fortifying sip of wine. It leaves a film that has me smacking my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “How’d you find the account?” I ask, trying not to sound as eager as I feel.