Once Sam and I have delivered the bulk of the gear to my room, I grab each of us cameras to scout with. It only takes a heartbeat for Nikki to smell me on the premises.
“Francesca Hawes!” Nikki’s voice bounces off the wide hallway walls. “Stop where you are.”
Sam lifts a brow at me. “Brace for impact,” he says.
“What in the living HELL is going on here? We hired your brother to shoot this wedding and we get you?”
“Good to see you again, Nikki,” Sam says, offering his hand for a shake. She takes it tentatively.
“Gabe said he talked to your dad last night and explained everything,” I say, scrolling through my texts, preparing to show her the one from my brother detailing his conversation with Donovan Meyer.
“Yes, I know all that but I am VERY concerned about your qualifications to shoo
