Page 36 of Calamity Rayne Gets Hitched

Hale’s flight came in the morning of the photo shoot. His luggage had been delayed, so he told me to head over to the studio and start without him. How the hell was I supposed to take an engagement photo without a fiancé?

I packed our clothes and had Alphonse drive me there so that I could ride home with Hale. The closer it came to facing him the more conflicted I became. I wished I never saw that contract, but I had.

Maybe I was making too big of a deal about the prenup. Hale had a lot of money and I had none. It was just good sense to protect his assets. He’d been burned before. But I never betrayed him and it hurt to think that he needed that sort of insurance on our love.

Once I arrived at the studio, I was surprised to see television cameras and private dressing rooms. This was a lot more involved than anything I’d envisioned.

A man with a clipboard led me to a dressing room incorrectly labeled Mrs. Davenport. I was still Rayne Meyers.

As soon as I stepped inside, I was on sensory overload. An enormous bouquet of purple roses sat on the vanity beside a basket of artisan chocolates, a card stuffed deep within the blooms.

“Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. Sincerely, The Dailey Crew.” That sounded cold and impersonal.

“Knock, knock.” A beautiful brunette came into the dressing room. “You must be Rayne. I’m Symone, your makeup artist.”

“Oh. Hi.” I hadn’t realized I’d have someone doing my makeup, but that was fine because I must have done such a pitiful job that Symone hadn’t realized my makeup was done.

As soon as I was seated, she began washing my face and applying some sort of cold mask she claimed was packed with vitamin C. “So,” she said, once my face was wrapped like Hannibal Lector’s. “What’s he like?”

“Who?”

Symone laughed. “Hale Davenport, your fiancé.”

Sexy, territorial, distrustful, endowed… “He’s private, sort of reserved.”

“Mmm, the strong silent type.” She rubbed lotion into my hands and massaged my fingers. “Are we married to this nail polish? If you want, I can take it off and put on a fresh color.”

I had just painted my nails that morning. “Sure.”

“How about his brother? I used to have such a crush on him. That one underwear ad he did on the beach in black and white—good Lord, I had some filthy thoughts that day. That man was the source of many sexual fantasies.”

“Yup. All the ladies love Barrett.”

“Is he nice?”

Protectiveness knifed through me. The Davenports weren’t godlike to me. They were people. Family. And I didn’t like gossiping about them. “They’re all pretty wonderful.”

When the hairstylist, Jenna, arrived, the attention was off of me for a while as the two women chattered about people I didn’t know, people I suspected they worked with regularly.

By the time the mask peeled off, Jenna was knuckle-deep into my roots, massaging products into my hair and using various hot irons to give my drab brown locks some much-needed body.

I silently sat there, mostly staring at Symone’s boobs as she worked on my face or looking her awkwardly in the eye as she gave short commands like open, shut, look down. I smiled, made fish faces, and puckered exactly when told and by the time they were finished, I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

“Whoa.”

“Didn’t realize you were such a bombshell, did you?” Jenna said, proudly packing up her tools.

“Mr. Davenport’s going to love it. Should I send him in for a sneak peek?”

“Hale’s here?” My heart tripped against my ribs and raced into a sprint.

“He’s in the room next door. You know men. They just have to dress. He’s been waiting and is probably bored out of his mind.”

Hale was here. Why did that make me more nervous than usual? “Should I get dressed?”

Symone removed the black cape that had been protecting my clothes. “Your clothes are all freshly steamed. Dress and I’ll send him over in a few minutes.”

Relieved to finally be alone, I examined my reflection. My eyes were smoked out with shimmering greys and dramatic black coal. The false lashes Symone applied were so heavy every blink clicked. They looked like caterpillars sleeping on my eyelids.

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