“He’s going to have to wait for us.” She dialed again and begged the manager to stay open until they got there.
Zach knew from her end of the conversation that it wasn’t working. She switched tactics, asking if there was somewhere he could leave the tux. Maybe a neighboring store or behind the building somewhere. When she hung up, she shoved her phone into her purse and crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.
“Let me guess. He’s not willing to wait?”
“No! What’s wrong with people? If I don’t get the tux, we won’t be able to leave until tomorrow. My brother is only getting married once. And he has to have a tux. He can’t say his vows in board shorts.” She buried her face in her hands.
Zach bit his lip to keep from smiling. It wasn’t funny. Reagan had spent the past several months making sure Teddy and Cal would have the wedding of their dreams. But he couldn’t imagine causing such a fuss over a stupid suit. He had no plans to tie the knot, but if he ever did, getting married on the beach in board shorts would be his ideal setting. Follow the ceremony with a dip in the ocean, a cookout with fresh fish on the grill, and plenty of rum punch and he might possibly be able to envision a ceremony like that.
But Reagan’s shindig had to have the best of everything. Men would be decked out in monkey suits and the women would probably be sinking into the sand in their formals and stilettos. And if her dad didn’t send him packing as soon as he arrived, he’d be smack dab in the middle of it all.
“So this probably isn’t the best time to bring this up.” Zach glanced over.
“What now?” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pouty frown. “I can’t handle another catastrophe.”
Zach wanted to kiss the sourpuss look off her face. He didn’t want to add to her list of problems, but as they discussed Teddy’s tux, he realized he didn’t have anything in his bag that would be appropriate to wear to a formal wedding.
“What’s the dress code for this bash you’re planning on the beach? Flip flops and cargo shorts work?” He waited for her to explode next to him. She didn’t disappoint.
“You’re joking, right? I’ve got a floor-length gold dress in my suitcase and my mom had her dress custom made.”
“Uh, I was planning on shooting a swimsuit catalog on the beach. I’ve got a couple pair of jeans. The rest of my bag is filled with shorts and T-shirts. I figure I ought to blend in?”
Reagan’s palm hit her forehead. “Crap! No, you can’t wear jeans or shorts. Do you know your measurements? Maybe they can have a tux ready for you, too.”
Measurements? Like he wore a tux often enough that he’d have his measurements memorized? “Sure, let me get that for you. I keep it on a card in my wallet.” He let out a laugh at the expectant look on her face. “Seriously? I’m joking, Reagan. I’ve never worn a tux in my life.”
“Oh my God, how could I have overlooked something like that? Forget the tux shop. Go to the airport. We’ll have to stay the night somewhere here in Miami and pick them up tomorrow. I’ll see if I can talk the guy into measuring you and giving us something that will work.”
“Don’t you have to have them altered? That’ll take a couple days, won’t it?”
Reagan executed a neck roll. “My mother’s stylist is traveling with her. She’ll be able to alter it for you.”
Zach nodded as if traveling with an entourage didn’t further illustrate the rift between her way of life and his. He flipped the turn signal and took the interchange toward the airport.
He’d envisioned the possibility of staying in touch with Reagan after the weekend. He could make sure he flew through Chicago on his way between the coasts. Maybe she could come visit him in LA or join him on one of his jobs. But it was becoming increasingly obvious that they didn’t even orbit in the same solar system. Her social calendar included dinner with the President. His weekends were filled with surfing, brew pubs, and sand volleyball.
Half an hour later, Zach slowed to a stop at the curb at the Miami International Airport. “I’ll sit here until they make me move then I’ll circle.”
Reagan put her hand on the door handle. “Thanks. I should only be a couple of minutes.”
She climbed out and jogged into the airport in the tight, stretchy pants. God, she had a great ass. As the thought entered his mind, her hands tugged at the hem of the shirt she had on, trying to pull it further down on her thighs. The glass doors opened and shut and Reagan was gone.
He pulled out his phone to make the call to Scazzoli. Who had he been trying to fool? He’d known from the moment he saw her. There was no way he could sell Reagan out, no matter how much the scumbag offered. The phone rang once then twice.
In a voice that sounded like he smoked two packs a day, Scazzoli barked, “Talk to me, Anderson.”
“I’m out. Not gonna be able to come through on the Campbell project.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I’ve got a very interested buyer on the line.”
“Yeah? Who’s that?” Zach asked.
“They prefer to remain anonymous.”
Zach ran his hand over his stubble. “Sorry, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Zach didn’t answer.
“I told him you’d deliver.” Scazzoli lowered his voice to a growl. “Told him you’d never let me down before.”
Dammit. Jaw clenched, hand tight on the steering wheel, Zach matched his tone. “First time for everything, right?”
“Fuck you, Anderson. You bail on me on this, and not only will I tell the owner of that magazine conglomerate that you were the ones who took the shots of his wife, I’ll make sure you never book another fucking job.”
Zach glanced at the vacant seat next to him where Reagan had left her notebook. She’d doodled hearts and circles on the top page. Must have done that while she was on the phone. He took a closer look at the swirly heart in the corner. The initials ZA + RC were written in a curly script inside, like the girls back in junior high used to write. Trying to figure her out was like trying to do a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing. He had a certain image of what kind of girl she was in his head. But the pieces were adding up to create an entirely different picture.
Was she the uptight senator’s daughter who needed to call the shots and always remain in control? Or was there something else deep inside, like the fun-loving, risk-taker he’d seen glimpses of over the past few days? More like the girl he’d fallen for in high school than the high-powered hotel exec.
“You there?” Scazzoli asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Zach closed his eyes and let the vision of the shop he’d imagined flash through his mind. Goodbye golden ticket. So long place of my own.
“What’s it gonna be, Anderson? You know I’m not a man who likes to be kept waiting.”
“Sorry.”
“You piece of shit. Don’t even think about calling—”
Zach pressed “end” and lowered the phone. He took in a deep breath as he searched for Reagan through the large windows. No luck. Hopefully she hadn’t tangled with security again and gotten herself removed to a back room. At the rate she was going, she’d be blocked from all the major airports in the U.S. before the year was up. He thumbed through his emails and sent a quick message off to his contact for the photo shoot. Several of his colleagues would kill for that job and be able to make it work, so he didn’t feel so bad about backing out. Besides, if Scazzoli did divulge the truth about Zach taking those photos, he’d probably get fired from that job anyway.