Page 28 of How to Deal

“Tasting cakes.” I find the cake table again and shove a piece of chocolate mousse cake in my mouth. “We have to find the perfect chocolate cake.” I can’t think straight. My mind is a scrambled mess. How could I have not known who he was?

Casey follows me. “I thought most wedding cakes are white?”

“Does it matter?”

“Are you mad at him?” Casey tries to take the cake away from me so she can sample it.

I hand her a plate. “Yes,I’m mad.” German chocolate crumbs fly out of my mouth and onto Casey’s plate. Her eyes squint at the crumbs when I speak, not sure if she should be disgusted or listening to me. “I chastised his photography skills infront of him, making me look like an asshole, and he didn’t even have the decency to tell me that he was Elliott Warren or Tathan. He’s living a double life. Like Spiderman or Batman.”

“Maybe he was embarrassed after that,” she suggests. “You can be intimidating at times, Amalie.”

“Like when?”

“Like now. . . .” She sets down the plate. “Just go say hello. Maybe he has a reason for not telling you.”

Of course he does.

Maybe he does. . . I was kind of rude, wasn’t I?

I’m still angry though. He should have said something.

Casey looks like she’s about to defend him again, but I hold up my hand, stopping her. “Whatever. He should have said something.”

Wanting to change the subject away from me because I’m about to have a heart attack with how hard my heart is pounding, I eat. I continue keeping busy with the cake samples and the most delicious invention in the world. Cake pops.

I’m not sure who invented them, but they are pure genius. What’s better than cake on a stick that you can take anywhere and not get your hands dirty? And they are just so damn cute. They come in all sorts of flavors and colors with the most adorable decorations on the outside. A little slice of heaven. . . in a ball. . . on a stick. Sheer perfection.

DESPITE MY EARLY tantrum, the cake has a calming effect on me, and I sneak away later, of course, to watch Tathan in the seclusion of the crowd where I can properly stalk him without him knowing.

I never would have expected this, but Tathan is amazing when he photographs.

Four couples dressed in wedding attire surround him, each one in their own pose as he captures various shots of them dancing. His brooding eyes concentrate on his work, his lips somewhat pouty with concentration, examining every shot after he takes them.

As I watch him, all I can think about is him taking pictures of me preferably while I’m in his bed. Lighting low, me dressed erotically, him wearing absolutely nothing. Then him setting down the camera and seductively stripping away all my clothes. Imagine the possibilities and the outcome of that situation.

After Tathan finishes, the women continue to flirt with him, but I see that when he’s taking photographs, he’s in a different mindset, ignoring their advances with a polite smile.

Before Casey can catch me—or worse, Zane—drooling over Tathan, or Elliott. . . or whatever, I sneak away and find Casey paying for a dress she decided on. Pale white and wide eyes, she looks as though she’s about ready to throw up.

“Dude, I can’t believe I spent five grand on a motherfucking dress.” She stares at the dress in her hand carefully holding it up in fear it may touch the ground. “It’s making me sick.”

I hand her a cake pop from the stash in my purse. Believe it or not, they wrapped them up for me in cute little bags with ribbon.

“I can.” I eat the one in my hand in one bite. “And you’ll only wear it once.”

“Screw that.” She eats the cake pop, mindful not to get it on the plastic covering the dress by leaning forward. “I’m going to wear this damn thing once a month. Expect me to show up at work wearing it.”

The entertaining part about that is Casey would totally do something like that.

As Casey and I are walking around looking for Zane, Tathan is walking toward us with his camera in hand looking both worn-out and curious as to what my reaction will be.

I want to run the other way, but there are people everywhere, and there’s nowhere to go but toward him. Especially when Casey refuses to let me run away.

As he approaches, I watch his every move, the bright white lighting of the room making him stand out in his all-black attire.

God, he’s fucking beautiful, so dark and handsome.

And then he speaks.

---