Читать книгу Always the Bridesmaid - Нина Харрингтон - Страница 9

HE HAD known something like this would happen.

Worse. It was entirely his fault.

He had taken his eyes off the ball and allowed a wedding planner he had never met to run a project as important as his only sister’s wedding. So what if he was in the middle of one of the biggest deals of his life in New York? Family came first.

He had promised his mother before she moved to France that he would take care of his sister.

He had let her down.

Not going to happen. Not while there was still blood in his veins. He had a brilliant PA, and a team back in New York who could be on the next flight out if they had to.

The sound of a car horn snapped Jared out of his thoughts, and he ran the fingertips of both hands through his hair, before flicking open the buttons of his suit jacket.

Suddenly he felt hot, tired, and running on empty. He went to the door to get some air. Maybe he should have eaten some of the strudel? It wouldn’t have killed him. He might even have liked it. Lucy would have told him to be kinder to her friend who was offering him free food.

But there’s no such thing as a free lunch, Lucy Lou.

Even if Amy Edler was not the girl he had expected.

As he turned away from the London traffic whizzing by outside, Amy jogged past him out of the shop door; her arms full of Edlers cake boxes, and nudged him in the arm before speaking.

‘We’re going to need serious bribery to pull this one off—and I don’t mean a wad of twenties.’ She nodded down the busy street. ‘There’s a bus that stops across the road which will have us at the wedding planner’s office in fifteen minutes.’

‘The last time I was on a bus,’ Jared said, pulling out his cellphone, ‘I was still in school. That won’t be necessary.’

Amy looked up as a glossy silver-grey Rolls-Royce car glided to a smooth halt only three feet away from where they were standing. She leaned closer to him. ‘Drat. A customer. And we are totally out of Sachertorte. Wait a minute—I recognise that car from somewhere!’

Jared was holding one hand up and he gestured towards the car.

‘Relax. I was on my way home from the airport when I stopped by. Let me take those boxes for you, and let me introduce you to my driver, Frank…’

Jared watched in amazement as Amy literally threw the boxes at him and ran into the arms of his old friend to receive a warm bear hug. He could only stare, slack-jawed, as Amy stood on tiptoe and kissed Frank heartily on the cheek.

And damn if he didn’t feel a tug of jealousy.

Where had that come from? He didn’t do jealous. Especially not for a woman he had met only minutes earlier.

He faked calm indifference as he carefully balanced the cake boxes on one arm while he opened the boot, its shiny metal surface blocking his view of the intimate greeting.

‘Amy, love. So this is where you’ve been hiding. Well—Edlers?’ Frank shook his head and crossed his arms to scan the shopfront. ‘You actually did it! Lucy should have told me.’

‘You’re welcome here any time—you know that, Frankie. You can have anything you can dream of eating.’

Jared closed the boot, as Amy stepped back from Frank with a beaming grin on her face, transforming her from being pretty into the kind of woman worthy of more than a second look. Even a third.

Under the fluorescent kitchen lighting he had not missed the fact that Amy was the kind of girl who looked good without make-up, but in the fading sunlight her skin appeared pale and translucent in contrast to the bright sparkling green of those amazing eyes. But it was her smile, her bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked smile, that hit him hard in the bottom of his stomach.

This version of Amy Edler was a stunner.

Something twisted inside Jared’s gut and he swallowed hard. When was the last time any girl had looked at him like that with such warmth and affection? And meant it?

Come to think of it, when was the last time he had met a woman outside business? A woman like Amy Edler? Maybe if he had the time he could turn on the charm and persuade her to turn one of those smiles in his direction. Except he did not have the time. He had a week to plan his sister’s wedding before he turned his back on London for good, and nothing was going to get in his way.

‘I take it you two know each other, then?’ Jared managed to ask casually, as he strolled over to hold the rear passenger door open for Amy.

‘Who else would little Lucy call to collect her best friend from the airport? Rent-a-cab? Not likely, mate. Only the best for this lady.’ Then his expression changed, and Frank reached out and held Amy by both arms. ‘You look great, girl. Gorgeous as ever. How are you feeling?’

As Jared watched, the smile faltered on Amy’s lips, before she relaxed. ‘Fine—I’m fine. Never better.’ Her words were softer, lower, as though she was protecting Frank from some unpleasant truth.

Frank gave a sharp nod and turned back to Jared.

‘I know a great new Italian place, mate. How about we all catch up over dinner?’

Amy laughed out loud and spoke before Jared had a chance to answer.

‘Not a chance, Frankie. The wedding planner Lucy hired has done a runner. Eloped. Taken off with the fiancé of one of her clients.’ Amy lifted and then dropped both her arms. ‘I had the first call, but we need to get over there fast, before the other bridezillas find out.’

Frank hissed, and jumped back from the pavement towards the driver’s door. ‘Jump in. You too, boss. Fast as you like. I know the address, but we’re going to have to get a move on before the news breaks. I know a shortcut.’

Amy was halfway into the car when she suddenly jumped back onto the pavement, turning at the same time and colliding with Jared’s hard, muscular body.

Jared reacted instantly, grabbing her by the waist. His fingers expanded to take in her tiny waist and the curve of her ribcage. The woman hidden beneath the baggy navy working clothes was muscular and warm, and it made absolute sense for him to hold her tighter in his embrace, both of his arms encircling the slim body.

‘It’s okay. I’ve got you.’

Amy blinked and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as her eyes locked onto his.

The portion of Jared’s brain responsible for sensible thought and blood pressure forgot that he was standing on a public London street, with Friday night pedestrians only a few feet away, and his breathing changed to compensate for the thundering in his heart.

His body reacted to the warm tiny woman pressed against his chest, her hands flat against his business shirt. The smell of her body and her clothing—warm vanilla, sweet spices and bread—combined with the sound of her breathing loud in his ears, blocking out the thundering traffic and street noise.

Time expanded until his arms slowly slid away from her waist and he took one step back. He drew himself to his feet, holding her steady, and she released him and stepped to one side.

Amy lifted one leg, then the other, inspecting the fabric of her trousers.

‘Sorry about that. But I’ve got chocolate icing on my trousers. And this is a nice car…’

The two men stood and stared at her in silence for a second, before Frank dared to comment.

‘I’ve had a lot worse on that leather. Dig out the picnic blanket, mate, and then let’s get going.’

‘How well do you know this wedding planner?’ Jared asked as soon as they were moving and he had regained use of his lungs and his brain.

‘Clarissa?’ Amy answered. ‘I only met her the last time Lucy was in London. Her assistant Elspeth was in charge of making the actual arrangements. I know a few girls who have used Clarissa, and they all sing her praises. That’s why I’m not worried. It’s only seven days to the wedding, Jared. Everything will have been booked and confirmed weeks if not months ago.’

He conceded it was possible with a nod. ‘Maybe, but there is no harm in checking. Especially now. I don’t want to call Lucy until I know whether there is a problem.’

‘I agree with you on that.’ Amy swallowed and tried to appear casual by looking out of the window before going on. ‘So, what can I do to convince you that I don’t need your help and am perfectly capable of sorting out any last-minute problems on my own?’

Jared considered for a moment before replying. ‘I need to be sure that this Clarissa hasn’t missed anything in her rush to elope with some other girl’s boyfriend. For me, that means going through the master checklist for the project, right down to times and places.’

‘Ah. Is that all?’ Amy laughed, and stared into his face with her mouth half open. ‘I’m beginning to understand. You cannot stand the idea that any person besides yourself and your team is even remotely capable of running a project. Am I right?’

There was some suppressed sniggering from the front of the car, which at that moment turned sharply into a tight bend, sliding Jared along the slippery leather towards Amy, who was safe on her blanket.

His hand grabbed onto her leg to steady him, and was rewarded with a smudge of something sticky between its fingers.

And the sensation that his world had been rocked on its foundation.

He felt dizzy. Light headed. He should have eaten that strudel. That was it. Nothing to do with the slim muscular thigh he had just been touching. Must be jet lag.

‘Seatbelt?’ she murmured, shaking her head. ‘Seatbelt would be good.’

He clicked on the belt, pretending to look out of the window.

Unfortunately for him at that moment he saw the reflection of Amy in the glass.

She was digging inside the bag on her knee with one hand, while the other stripped back the bandanna covering her hair. In one smooth movement her head dropped back, her eyes closed, and her fingers combed through her head of boy-short glossy brown layers.

It was the most sensual thing he had seen in a long time, and the fact that it was natural and completely relaxed made it even more remarkable.

The dark brown hair contrasted with Amy’s smooth clear skin, shining in the June sunlight streaming through the car window. She had been at university at the same time as Lucy, he thought, so she had to be late twenties…

Her head flicked up as she laughed about something with Frank, as though they had been mates for years.

Why did he find that so annoying? Frank was free to act as a chauffeur as and when he liked when Jared wasn’t in town—which was the usual case. He couldn’t have spent any more than a week in London in the last six months. Why shouldn’t he drive Lucy and her friends? That was what he had asked him to do, wasn’t it? But why hadn’t Frank mentioned Amy before? And what was the great secret they’d been talking about when she’d hugged him like that?

A police siren sounded to their right, and Jared turned as Amy flicked out her tongue to tantalisingly lick off the smudge of icing at the corner of her mouth.

She noticed him looking her way. Or had she noticed the sudden increase in temperature in the gap between them? Frank should take a look at the air conditioning in this car…

Time for him to take charge.

‘So, how do I get to see this famous wedding plan?’

Amy sighed out loud. ‘That is not going to be easy!’ She turned in her seat before going on. ‘Each of Clarissa’s clients has their own personal file. Everything and anything linked to that particular wedding is inside that pink box. Rule one is that the box should never leave her office, on pain of death. I’m hoping sweet treats will persuade Elspeth to change her mind about that, while she copes with the fall-out from Clarissa’s sudden exit.’

Jared pushed his full lower lip forward and gently inclined his head.

‘Devious. I like it. And I thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach!’

‘Oh, it works for ladies too! I suspect we may not be the only ones burning a path to that office to salvage wedding plans. The brides will burn me at the stake for bringing carbs, but their mothers will love it.’

‘Clearly. I can see now where I’ve been going wrong all these years. I should have been buttering up my girlfriends with sugar and cakes.’

‘Definitely.’

Amy glanced out of the window as Frank slowed to a stop. Cars were double and triple-parked down the narrow street outside the wedding planner’s office. Some more abandoned than parked.

‘Here we are. And it looks like I’m going to need that cake. Best stay in the car, boys. This is a dangerous assignment, but someone has to do it. I’m going in.’

Jared stared across Amy to see what could be so dangerous.

They had pulled up outside a row of Victorian terraced houses, once the homes of the middle classes, now used as businesses and hotels all over the city.

This particular house was distinguished from its neighbours by a tasteless pink plaque with the word “Clarissa” in black and gold six-inch-high letters.

And by the cluster of women around the entrance.

Sleek, shiny women. Of all ages. Jostling to get into the house.

The kind of women who were accustomed to the January sales and came supplied with sharp elbows and stiletto heels. And his shin pads were back in New York. This was more than dangerous—this could be lethal!

Jared instinctively touched Amy on the arm as she removed her seatbelt.

‘No way are you giving those ladies extra sugar. You’d never make it back alive.’

Amy collapsed back into the luxurious seat and glared at the increasingly noisy crowd. Several more cars had pulled up behind them, ready to discharge extra troops.

‘You may have a point. Frank? Any ideas?’

‘Retreat to a safe point and come back Monday, when these girls have gone home to complain to their hairdressers?’

‘Not possible.’ Jared interrupted before Amy could reply. ‘Lucy is due to be married in seven days? Monday will not do. You two stay here. I’ll see how far I can get.’

This time it was Amy who grabbed Jared’s arm, as he tugged on the cuffs of his shirt.

‘Hold on, macho hero. Those girls would eat you alive. You do know that it’s always the bloke’s fault, don’t you? This bridegroom who stole Clarissa from them is clearly to blame for the whole thing. You’d have to be pregnant and barefoot to get to the front of that queue!’

Jared sat back and pursed his lips together for a few seconds as he looked at Amy, from her flat comfortable shoes to the top of her head, before nodding slowly.

‘Pregnant and barefoot. Hmm. That’s not a bad idea. It might just work…’

Amy caught the tone in Jared’s voice, and watched as he patted the picnic blanket she was sitting on before speaking.

‘I’m almost frightened to ask,’ she said, watching him closely.

‘Frank? Do you have any cushions in the back?’ Jared asked, totally ignoring her comment.

‘Of course, mate.’

‘Excellent. Miss Edler—I do realise that we have only just met, but we are about to become proud expectant parents. Won’t that be nice?’

She stared at him with wide-eyed horror as she realised what his idea was.

‘You wouldn’t?’

The man sitting next to her simply turned towards her and gave a wide smile, raising his eyebrows.

It was the first time he had smiled since they’d met—and, oh, yes, she could see why any girl in a fifty metre radius would instantly agree to anything he suggested.

Amy closed her eyes. She had promised Lucy she would do everything she could to help with the wedding while her mother recovered from the ’flu.

And of course there was that other reason it had to be a huge success…

This might be the first wedding cake Amy had ever made, but it was not going to be the last. Clarissa had already contacted her about other weddings later in the year, and she knew Lucy had been telling all her London friends. She already had orders for eight more chocolate special cakes—but only if this wedding was the success she desperately wanted for Lucy and Mike.

She needed that business.

She needed her friends to have a wonderful day.

She needed that wedding plan.

Which was why she suddenly heard herself asking, ‘How many cushions? One or two?’

Jared took his time climbing out of one side of the car and making his way around the rear to open the passenger door for Amy, so that she could start her award winning performance.

He made a show of making a slight bow, so she accepted his hand as if she was stepping out in evening dress onto the red carpet at a film premiere. Only on this occasion she was wearing navy check trousers splattered with icing, and a stained extra-large navy T-shirt stretched over two pillows and a picnic blanket. But she was still determined to give the role her all.

It wasn’t her fault that her performance required Jared to wrap one arm protectively around where her middle should be, which somehow distracted her so much that she was swept up the steps before she knew it. Thereby missing her own big entrance.

Jared helped Amy stagger through into a narrow corridor packed with anxious and crying women who had jumped to their feet as one, each female fighting to make her voice heard, competing in decibels and speed to get attention. Any attention.

The noise was deafening.

Amy squeezed Jared’s hand—a signal to reposition the pillow, which was starting to bulge over her trousers—before stretching up to whisper in his ear.

‘Let’s make a deal. If I can persuade Elspeth to give me the box, then I will allow you to help with the wedding. But only on one condition. You do the work yourself. Not your PA, not your events planner, not your brilliant admin team. You. Or is the great Jared Shaw scared of getting his hands dirty?’

She looked up at him with the sweetest, most adoring, open-mouthed smile, complete with fluttering eyelashes for the benefit of the onlookers.

‘Do we have a deal? Squeeze once for yes, and twice for no.’

Jared tightened his grip on Amy’s waist. The way back to the car was already blocked by a formidable-looking older woman and a younger weeping girl.

There was no backing out.

He squeezed. Once.

Still clutching Jared’s hand, Amy dragged him towards the flustered-looking receptionist’s desk. The pillows and picnic blanket had created a surprisingly effective eight-month baby bump.

‘Hi. I’ve heard about Clarissa’s unplanned holiday.’ Amy addressed the girl behind the desk, glancing around the room, taking in the tears and the emotional tension, until every other woman stopped talking.

‘My fiancé and I have our wedding next weekend.’ She looked at the stunned Jared and gave him her most adoring smile. ‘This is our last chance before little Jarella is born, so I hope you understand that I have an urgent appointment in—’ she glanced at her watch ‘—three minutes.’

Before the receptionist could answer, Amy leant backwards and shuffled up to the office door, drawing a red-faced Jared with her. She knocked once, did not wait for an answer, flung open the door, and then closed it behind them.

A slim, middle-aged woman in a tight pink bouclé suit was crouched down low, her elbows resting on a pink desk. Her head was in her hands, and the desk was covered with yellow sticky notes. A loose telephone lead trailed from her finger. Disconnected. There was a bottle of cream sherry and a small glass by her hand. And not much sherry left in the bottle.

‘Hello, Elspeth. Remember me?’

‘You can do this,’ Amy said, looking into the terrified eyes of Clarissa’s personal assistant, who was still nibbling on buttery flaky pastry courtesy of Edlers Bakery. ‘You can take over these weddings. You were doing most of the work yourself, weren’t you?’

Fragments of pastry scattered onto the paperwork as the older woman’s hand paused in midair. ‘Yes, I suppose so. Clarissa was so busy entertaining clients she relied on me to make the actual bookings and talk to the suppliers—like yourself. Boring things like that.’

‘Not boring,’ Amy insisted. ‘Important. Especially to the brides-to-be out there with their mothers.’

Amy sat down next to the terrified woman on a pale pink sofa, and tried to ignore the fact that the icing blobs on the back of her trousers would probably ruin the pink silk.

‘You want to be a wedding planner, don’t you? Was that a nod? Right!’ She reached across and took shaking but beautifully manicured hands in her still-sticky, grubby paw. ‘This is your chance. You have the power to give those girls the weddings they have always dreamed of. You created the files. You did that. Not Clarissa. You. Now all you have to do is to convince your clients that it’s business as usual. The plans are in place and on track. What do you say?’

‘Well, I don’t know. I’ve only been working here two years. Until then Clarissa organised everything herself. I’ll need to go through each box…’ The panic came back into her eyes as she gasped. ‘The Shaw-Gerard wedding! You’re making the cake! That’s next weekend, and I haven’t even looked at the file. The box is still here. What if…?’ There was terror in the unspoken words as she reached for the box, only to find that Amy had got there first.

‘Don’t you worry about that. I’m going to take Lucy’s file home with me. I’ll go through the plan myself, check the details, and meet you back here during the week. Okay?’

‘Well, I don’t know. I mean, Clarissa is pretty strict about the files not leaving the office without the client’s permission.’ She paused, gulped, and looked into Amy’s face.

‘That’s not a problem. Mr Shaw here is the person who signed the contract—so he is the client, after all.’

Elspeth looked up at Jared, who was guarding the door, and gave a faint smile. ‘Well, that’s true. We have met before. How about four p.m. Thursday?’

Amy smiled back. ‘Done. And you can do this. Seriously. You can. You’re the new wedding planner. Ready to face the music? Head up, shoulders back. Show them who is in charge here.’

She leapt to her feet, helped pull the woman up from the sofa, and watched as she tugged at her pink pencil skirt. With one single nod, Amy took a firm grip on Lucy’s pink-flowered box file, clutched it to her chest, flung open the door with her other hand, and beamed a smile to the cluster of women who leapt to their feet and started crowding in at the door.

Jared seized the opportunity to take back control of the situation, and he rested his arm lightly on Amy’s back before calling back casually to the terrified-looking PA.

‘Thank you so much! We have every confidence in you. See you on Thursday!’

Amy was so startled that she looked up at him in awe. And in that moment her heart skipped a beat. No wonder Lucy boasted that her brother could charm the birds from the trees.

He was grinning the kind of grin toothpaste manufacturers would kill for, his white teeth contrasting with his blue eyes against a light natural tan. His mouth creased up at the corners, creating what could almost pass as dimples. If hard-nosed CEOs were allowed to have dimples. She could almost hear the women around her swoon as his gaze fell on the lucky girls at the front of the pack.

She didn’t blame them.

Jared Shaw truly was gorgeous.

And then he did it.

He casually turned his spotlight smile on her, bent his head a few inches, and kissed her. On the brow. Just a light pressure of hot lips on her skin, before he dropped his arm a few inches lower and stepped forward.

Her knees turned to jelly.

She was caught in his embrace with nowhere for her spare arm to go except around his middle, against the fine linen cloth that covered an impressively taut muscular lower back.

There was nothing for it but to breathe in the aroma that only a man who had been on a hot pavement followed by her hot kitchen at the end of a long day travelling could generate. It was sweet, spicy, and intoxicating.

For a second—just for one, precious moment—Amy luxuriated in the illusion that they were trying to create and made herself believe that Jared was her fiancé, and she was carrying his baby—that his relaxed lover’s kiss had been real and for her.

Dangerous. Way too dangerous.

She forced herself to glance up at that handsome strong face, and the icy-cold realisation that this was a man who could have any woman he wanted sent her tumbling back to earth from dreamland.

That dream was for other women. That chance had been snatched away from her. She was an idiot for daring to think otherwise. And an even bigger idiot for thinking back to that moment when they’d been getting into the car. The feeling of his warm shirt under the palms of her hands. The beating chest that lay beneath.

What was she doing?

This was Lucy’s big brother. In town for a few days for his sister’s wedding. That was all.

And with that positive thought Amy squeezed into his waist a little closer, wrapped her fingers firmly onto his belt, and flashed a smile up into his face.

Luckily he took it as part of her star performance, gave a quick nod and, smiling at the closest cluster of ladies, the unlikely pair slowly shuffled as convincingly as they could down the corridor, with the pretend baby bump leading the way.

Jared gave one quick glance back at the building, before launching himself into the Rolls-Royce through the door Frank was holding open. He sighed out loud in relief to have escaped unscathed, as he collapsed back in his seat.

‘That was horrendous. Why would someone actually want to be a wedding planner? I mean, why? What chance has that poor girl got with those women at her throat? What did you call them?’

‘Bridezillas. Elspeth is quite capable of handling the work—but she has my telephone number if she needs it. And I have Lucy’s box.’ Amy waved it triumphantly towards Frank, before pulling the squashed cushions out from beneath her top. ‘Sorry, Jarella. What’s next?’

It was Jared who answered.

‘Apart from ten hours’ sleep? Coffee, telephones, a photocopier and a computer. It appears that I have a wedding to organise.’