Читать книгу Summer at the Little Wedding Shop: The hottest new release of summer 2017 - perfect for the beach! - Jane Linfoot - Страница 12

BLISSFUL BOUTIQUE COUNTRY MANOR HOUSE WEDDINGS …

‘Not exactly subtle is it, Gucci?’

Okay, I’m talking to my car again. It’s easy to slip into the habit when you do a lot of miles on your own together. It goes with singing along to heart break songs very loudly. But enough about that. I’m doing a mini-detour on the way to afternoon tea with my mum, to take in the Rose Hill Manor wedding sign. But the hoarding on the field edge is immense, and the lettering is so ‘look-at-me’, I forget to steer.

‘Signs like this should be banned. They’re a danger to the public,’ I moan, as I veer off the narrow lane and bump along the verge, simply because I can’t take my eyes off it. There are so many ‘exclusive use’ stickers, it’s probably visible from outer space.

Pulling to a halt, I grab my phone, and jump out to take a few pics to show Jess later. As I fight my way past the hedge my feet slither on the wet grass. Damn. Hygiene standards at Heavenly Heights are surgical. Arriving with mud smeared boots will put me at a huge disadvantage. But it’s too late now.

It’s bad news all round then, because the hoarding graphics I’m clicking away at are startlingly professional. Somehow I didn’t have the Penryns down as being this classy. On the close-up photos it looks like a venue to-die-for. I’m scouring the posters for something to criticise – like anything would do – when there’s the roar of an engine on the lane. Next thing I know, there’s a Land Rover beside me, with the driver’s window open. And when I turn round, I’m staring straight up. At Kip Penryn.

‘Speak of the devil.’ It’s out before I can stop it.

Kip rubs the stubble on his chin. ‘Do I know you?’ He wrinkles his forehead, then the penny drops. ‘Of course, you’re the one who caught the bouquet. Dried off, and out looking for a wedding venue? That was fast work.’

‘More like driving off the road, due to being distracted by your effing great hoarding, you mean. Big can be brash, you know.’ I refuse to acknowledge how perfect his promo material is.

‘We’re doing unmissable introductory offers. I have to make this work. Anyone getting married has to be interested.’

The words send a chill through me on Poppy’s behalf, if only because he sounds so desperate to succeed. ‘I’ll pass on the offers, thanks.’ Although I’m amused that he’s got things so wrong with me. ‘Unmissable’ offers are even more compelling and tasteful than ‘special’ ones. He’s certainly got his act together here.

‘We’re exquisite and exclusive, but we’re also exceptionally negotiable. I can cut you a deal.’

I give a sniff of disgust. ‘You do know if you overuse the word “exclusive” to the point of exhaustion, it loses all impact?’

He backs off on the hard sell, and goes back to being persuasive. ‘Come for a look around, you’ll see for yourself. The offers won’t last forever. All those Valentine’s proposals, it’s a busy time. I’ve had non-stop viewings since the signs went up.’

Sorry, but his win-win attitude is as annoying as hearing about his rush of punters. ‘Except you’re here. So I’m guessing you must have stopped.’

‘What?’

I’m going to have to spell it out. ‘Well you’re not doing viewings now, because you’re here talking to me, aren’t you?’ I let that sink in. ‘Or do you drag all your customers in, kicking and screaming, from the lane?’ Saying the word drag, reminds me I should possibly be more grateful for what he did for me last night. But stuff that, given what he’s going to do to Poppy and Rafe’s business. They’re right to be concerned. From what I’m picking up here, they should be very worried indeed.

His lips begin to curl into a slow smile. ‘You’re not looking for a venue at all, are you? Or you wouldn’t be so dismissive. You’re not even wearing an engagement ring.’

Dammit. For the first time in years, I wish I was. Just to prove him wrong. And not all engaged women wear rings, but I’m not going to get into that. So maybe he’s not quite as in tune with the business of getting married as he thinks.

‘I’m not personally searching for a venue, but I know people who are. Hence the pic.’ At least that’s explained. No way do I want him thinking I’m a sad single, taking selfies in front of a wedding sign. Although I’d settle for that, rather than the truth. It’s way worse to be caught out spying.

‘If there really aren’t any takers, you can always give me a call,’ he says with a wicked smile.

‘Sorry?’ Now I’m the one who can’t work out what he’s talking about, it’s not so great.

‘If you’ve got a free evening we could go for a drink? I’m new round here, I don’t know many people.’

Or more likely, people know him too well, and avoid him like the plague.

What a cheek. ‘A pick up on the lane? You are joking? You might be desperate, but I’m not.’ As I make a dive for my car door, it’s total bad planning because it means he gets the last word.

‘Your loss.’

Two tiny words which pretty much sum up the arrogance of the guy. As for Weddings at Rose Hill Manor, I suspect this operation is way slicker and more of a threat than any of us imagined.

The only good thing is that for five minutes it took my mind off where I’m going next. As I coax Gucci into a thirty-four-point turn in the lane, and zoom off towards the village for tea with my mum and her new squeeze I feel sick. I would not mind missing the next hour in my life.