Caught on Camera

Chapter 10, Scene 2, Part 19

Scene 2

Rachel's alarm clock buzzed at seven a.m. Saturday morning. After a quick shower in the communal staff bathroom, she flipped open her laptop and logged into her inbox. One new email, and that from the Toronto Film School, not another agency interested in buying the Kane-Armstrong wedding photos. So no bidding war then.

She clicked on the email, a reminder from Admissions warning students that failure to pay a substantial tuition deposit by the fifteen of July resulted in withdrawal of acceptance into the program. Rachel winced. More pressure is just what I need on the day of the wedding.

Next she pulled up Wendy's daily schedule on her fully charged phone. After Mopette's morning walk, Rachel was expected to join the wedding party and guests between nine and eleven a.m. for a poolside buffet breakfast. Dress code: bathing suits.

Her photographer side bounced with excitement. Dozens of beautiful stars arrayed mostly naked around the pool. Fantastic photo op!

She rooted through a drawer for the Lost and Found bikini, dangled the cracker-sized leopard print triangles from the attached strings. Her socks contained more material! On her body, the bikini scarcely covered her nipples and crotch. Her reflection in the mirror flushed crimson. The sheer cover-up, practical only because it had a pocket for her phone, and her own flip flops completed the outfit.

Chill, she psyched her embarrassed reflection. No one will be watching a nobody like you at the pool. Not with all those gorgeous movie stars around.

The staff will get an eyeful of you, her inner voice challenged. You've gotta live that down for the rest of the summer.

I'll never see any of the staff again after I start film school. This photo op is too awesome to pass up!

On her way to pick up Mopette in the Bridal Suite, Rachel surrendered to a growling stomach and popped into the staff dining room to grab a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel.

While Rachel ate, a gossipy kitchen cook gleefully relayed employee reactions to Rachel's bridesmaid charade. They ranged from leering comments (male) to envy (female) to her supervisor Angeline's dire prediction that Rachel'd be banished to the hot-as-Hades laundry when the General Manager caught sight of her. Juanita, the stacked Front Desk Agent, had complained to anyone who'd listen that she, not a plain stringbean, deserved to have been selected to replace the missing bridesmaid.

Plain stringbean, huh? 

Rachel swallowed the last bite of a bagel slathered with cream cheese on the way to the Bridal Suite. Mickey didn't seem repelled by her twiggy limbs and micro breasts. Her core tingled as she recalled exhilarating sensations of seeking hands gliding over bare skin underwater, the blistering kisses. If not for the threat of being discovered by security patrols, she'd have stripped Mickey naked under cover of water and dark of night before you could say "skinny-dipping". The popular recreational activity was Muskoka's best-kept secret.

Precisely at eight a.m., Rachel tapped discretely on the Bridal Suite door and, hearing nothing, used her master key card. Cautiously she poked her head inside. Fortunately the door to the bedroom remained tightly closed. If I don't encounter Candy until we walk down the aisle, that'll be just fine.

In the Bridal Suite's living area, Mopette, leash dangling from her pink mouth, happily danced on hind legs, yipped a greeting.

"Shhhh," Rachel admonished, hastily surveying the room for a package of returned laundry containing her underwear, tennis skirt and halter top. No such luck.