Virgin Lips

24. It's just Ben

"Woah." I gasped the moment we stepped out of the car. "You weren't kidding, this place is huge. How are we going to manage?"

Ben shrugged as he walked to the trunk. "Realistically, only a small portion of this kind of venues is ever used. What's important is that we're wherever bride and groom are." He grabbed a small paper from his back pocket, and handed it to me. "Complete schedule for every photoshoot, with times and dates, locations and how to get there."

I gulped, suddenly realizing what I got myself into. "Uh ... I don't know if I can do this."

Ben smiled and walked over to me. He placed his hands over my shoulders, which made me back up against the car, against which he kind of caged me – he definitely has a thing for invading my personal space, but I guess I don't mind all that much, since it's him. "All you need to do, is stick to me, and everything's going to be okay. Alright?"

I chuckled a bit. "If you thought I was gonna ever leave you out of my sight this week, you're nuts."

"You sure about that? I'm gonna have to shower at some point ..."

I blushed, looking away. "I didn't mean ..."

"Relax, JoJo," he pulled me into a hug – yeah, he's decided that hugs are also a thing between us, which I don't mind either; it's one way to get used to it –, placing a small kiss on my cheek, "I'm just messing with you. It's gonna be a long week, but it'll be worth it."

12 thousand dollars kept ringing my ears. 12 thousand dollars. That's enough to give me some breathing space while I work on a plan to move forward in my life. Of course, after settling some things, not much will be left, but it'll still be enough for a couple of months at least.

"Awwww! Look at those two! So cute!" A shrill female voice screamed, followed by a clap of hands.

Instinctively, I pulled away from Ben, mildly blushing. She probably wasn't talking about us and our hug, but you never know. When I looked to my right, I found a skinny girl in a pretty colorful dress grinning from ear to ear as she stared precisely at us. Case in point.

"Good morning, Ms. Wharton." Ben greeted, going to shake her hand, which she didn't accept, presenting that same hand for him to kiss its back. Rich people ... "I'm Benjamin Harris, the photographer your fiancé hired. And this," he pointed to me, "is Joanna Brooks, my assistant."

She nodded in my direction, still grinning like a Cheshire cat – or like a psychopath, which is all in all the same, if you ask me. "You make a lovely couple." She exclaimed, to which my cheeks reddened only more.

Ben cleared his throat, a bit uncomfortable – and with reason! –, but he didn't correct the girl. "Yeah, so ... we'll just settle in our rooms, and then we can start."

"Do you have everything you need?" The stern woman beside Ms. Wharton asked, her expression and pose so tense that I almost thought she would break at the tiniest sneeze. Then again, a woman like that probably doesn't even sneeze.

"Yes, ma'am." Notice how Ben's tone went from friendly polite to Downton Abbey servant kind of well-mannered.

"The schedule?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now get a move, you're already late."

We arrived in advance, actually, but try telling her that. This week is going to be intense, but again, the thought of all that money gave me a pretty solid motivation.

✧✧ ✧ ✧✧

"She sounds like a real peach." Jeremy laughed when I finished telling him about Mrs. Wharton, the bride's mother and our major pain so far. One day and I already hate her. It's like, every minute we breathe, she's annoyed. She sees Ben not taking pictures for a moment? Oh, stop slacking! With how much I pay you! Blah, blah, blah. Ugh. Again, rich people ...