Nate was drop-dead gorgeous, that didn’t guarantee him a free pass.
‘Yeah I suppose so. Are you coming as well, Max?’ I shrugged Nate off and went to stand beside him. His shoulders relaxed after that.
‘Certainly am, Munchkin! Lead the way!’ Placing a protective hand on my lower back, Max guided me into the crowd making their way to the reception.
Rather than opting for a sit-down meal, Giselle and Aaron had gone for a luxurious buffet, lovingly prepared by the amazing catering team they’d hired. Plates of vegetable samosas, quiches, mini cheeseburgers and tapas dishes were mixed with profiterole towers and trays of sweet pastries. The whole spread looked delightful.
As everyone pored over the buffet table, I decided to seek out the bride and groom to do the interview before the speeches started. I saw them lingering at the back of the room, drinking champagne and looking blissfully happy. I shook off any lingering nerves and approached them. Nate followed close behind, camera at the ready.
‘Hi there, my name’s Ava Clements. I’m the wedding reporter from
Sleek
magazine. What an amazing ceremony; I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house!’
‘Thanks, it was our dream day – wasn’t it
Mr Henderson
?’
Her voice had a soft Liverpudlian lilt, her husband’s name rolling effortlessly off her tongue. She stared at her new husband and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
‘Certainly was,
Mrs Henderson
,’ he replied.
‘Would you like to do the interview now or after the speeches?’ I asked. ‘The photographer’s here too, so we could get the photos out of the way as well. He’ll probably want one of you cutting the cake…’
I stopped as I saw Giselle’s face contort into a furious scowl.
‘Wait a second, what magazine did you say you were from?’
‘
Sleek
,’ I replied. ‘I-Is there a problem?’
‘You bet there’s a bloody problem, love! We’ve signed an exclusive deal with
Mirage
magazine; your lot aren’t supposed to be anywhere near this wedding!’
My heart sank and a cold sweat washed over me. It was every reporter’s worst nightmare to turn up at an event or function to hear another magazine had the exclusive.
‘A-are you sure?’ I stammered. ‘My editor definitely said we had the interview and photo rights…’
‘I think I’d remember which magazine I signed a £500,000 deal with, don’t you?!’
Then it dawned on me: Miranda had set me up. She’d sent me to this wedding knowing full well we couldn’t print anything about it. To confirm my suspicions, I opened up my emails and found one from Sphere Media, the couple’s PR representatives, wondering why on earth I was asking about doing an interview with Giselle and Aaron when
Mirage
had the exclusive. I hadn’t had time to check before; I’d been too busy doing my Cinderella routine.
‘I’m so sorry; I’ve completely wasted your time.’
I walked away from them and made for the door. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life; I just wanted to get home and lose myself in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.
‘Hey, where are you off to?’ Max’s voice drifted to me from the buffet table.
I turned and saw him standing with his arm round Amira’s waist. She looked resplendent in a primrose-coloured satin dress that complemented her caramel skin. Perfect, I thought, just perfect. Amira turning up put the tin lid on an awful evening.
‘It’s all gone wrong,’ I groaned. ‘I’m not even supposed to be here;
Mirage
have got the interview rights, not
Sleek
!’
Max’s nose wrinkled. ‘Surely Miranda would’ve… Ah.’
‘Yeah, she’s set me up to look a complete idiot.’ I turned to Amira, hoping she’d at least be friendly while Max was around. ‘Hi Amira, when did you get here?’
She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and tightened her grip on his waist. ‘A few minutes ago, my modelling shoot finished early. My headshots were so good my agent thinks he could land me a spot on the new
Learning to Kill: Stories