Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,2

to step out of line. Ever.

As the black sheep of the family, I was glad to have someone else be the rule breaker for once.

I didn’t necessarily want the honor of being the black sheep, but I’d gotten used to it, and now I kind of liked stepping out of line. I’d gotten pretty good at it, over the years. But my cousin Marie was usually a compliant rule-follower.

“You know, if you need a wedding photographer, I’m up for it.”

“Would you really?” she asked. “I’ve been scrambling to find a photographer on such a short notice.”

“Added bonus,” I said. “You won’t have to pay me a dime.” At least I’d get a really cool trip out of this wedding.

And the cherry on top was that my aunt was going to lose her freaking mind when she found out I was the photographer. I hoped I could be there to see the look on her face when she realized she wasn’t going to be hiring a top-rated photographer out of Atlanta.

“You know that’ll make my dad happy. But of course we’ll pay you.”

Despite being wealthy for his entire life, my uncle was notoriously tight-fisted in ways my parents never had been. “No. This will be my first official wedding where I’m the main photographer. I just want to concentrate on getting the best shots of you and Douglas.”

Marie beamed. “I’m so glad you’re doing it. You’re way more artistic than any of those stuffy people my mom would have hired. Promise you’ll take lots of candid shots?”

“Anything you want,” I said. “I promise.” I grinned at her. “Where’s the honeymoon?”

She sighed. “We’re still trying to work that out. Dad says he’s got to approve it.”

Her dad, who was my mom’s brother, was the current Attorney General for the State of Georgia. And my mother was the senior senator for Georgia. Our entire family was obsessed with politics. Everything was always such a big deal with them. Having seen it up close, it seemed like a crappy way to work and live. I never wanted to deal with that kind of scrutiny. I had enough scrutiny just being related to them.

“Why does he have to approve it? He’s not going, is he?” I wouldn’t put it past my uncle to insist on joining them on their freaking honeymoon.

“You know. He doesn’t want us to go anywhere that might make headlines.”

“Right.” What she meant was he didn’t want his precious daughter to end up in TMZ. It wouldn’t be the first time one of us had ended up in the spotlight.

Back at home after the engagement party, I sat down with my parents for dinner. As usual, both my parents were staring at their phones.

They weren’t trying to be rude. My dad was a CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and my mom was a senior senator. The texts and the phone calls never stopped. The people around them always needed just a minute more of their time.

I tossed a piece of lettuce at my dad. “I’m taking the photos at Marie’s wedding.” It landed on the screen of his phone.

“That’s nice honey,” my father said, picking the lettuce off his phone and dropping it onto his plate. He did not look up.

“I’m going up early to check out the venue, make sure I can get the lighting right.”

My father finally made eye contact with me. “Let me know when. We’ll have the plane ready for you.”

“I’m going to fly commercial,” I said.

Silence.

Both my parents turned to look at me with open mouths.

In some families, parents flip out when their kids get a nose piercing. Or join a band instead of going to college. Or get arrested for public intoxication. But for me, flying on a regular plane is a bridge too far.

“You can’t fly on a commercial plane,” my mother said. “It’s not safe. It’s not clean either.”

“Millions of people fly on commercial planes every day. It will be fine.”

“It will be a lot more work for Michael,” she said, referring to my usual bodyguard. “Flying on our plane makes his life easier.”

“I’m not going to take any security. You need to find a new job for Micheal.”

My mother pushed her chair back. “You have to take security. Anything could happen.”

“Listen, I know you’re aware of a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff that you can’t tell us about, and that it scares the shit out of you.”

My mother pursed her lips, but didn’t chastize me for my curse word like I knew she