Читать книгу Proposal For The Wedding Planner - Sophie Pembroke - Страница 9
ОглавлениеLAUREL SOMMERS STEPPED back from the road as a London taxi sped past through the puddle at the edge of the kerb, splashing icy water over her feet, and decided this was all her father’s fault, really.
Well, the fact that she was stuck in London, waiting in the freezing cold for a car to take her back to where she should be—Morwen Hall, the gothic stately home turned five-star hotel in the countryside an hour and a half’s drive out of the city—was clearly Melissa’s fault. But if their father hadn’t wanted to have his cake and eat it for their entire childhoods then her half-sister probably wouldn’t hate her enough to make her life this miserable.
Sighing, Laurel clasped the bag holding the last-minute replacement wedding favours that Melissa had insisted she collect that afternoon closer to her body as a stream of cars continued to rush past. It was three days after Christmas and the sales were in full swing. London was caught in that strange sense of anticipation that filled the space between December the twenty-fifth and New Year’s Eve—full of possibilities for the year ahead and the lives that might be lived in it.
Any other year Laurel would be as caught up in that sense of opportunity as anyone. She usually used these last few days of the year to reflect on the year just gone and plan her year ahead. Plan how to be better, to achieve more, how to succeed at last. To be enough.
Just last year she’d plotted out her schedule for starting her own business organising weddings. She’d been a wedding planner at a popular company for five years, and had felt with quiet optimism that it was time to go it alone—especially since she’d been expecting to be organising her own wedding, and Benjamin had always said he liked a woman with ambition.
So she’d planned, she’d organised, and she’d done it—she had the business cards to prove it. Laurel’s Weddings was up and running. And, even if she wasn’t planning her own wedding, she did have her first celebrity client on the books...which was why this year that optimism would have to wait until January the first.
All she had to do was make it through her half-sister’s New Year’s Eve wedding without anything going terribly wrong and she would be golden. Melissa was big news in Hollywood right now—presumably because she was a lot nicer to directors than she was to wedding planners—and her wedding was being covered in one of those glossy magazines Laurel only ever had time to read at the hairdresser’s. If this went well her business would boom and she could stop worrying about exactly how she was going to earn enough to pay back the small business loan she’d only just qualified for.
She might not have the husband she’d planned on, and she might not be a Hollywood star like Melissa, but once her business went global no one would be able to say she wasn’t good enough.
But of course that meant rushing around, catering to Melissa’s every whim—even when that whim meant a last-minute trip back to the capital to replace the favours they’d spent two weeks deciding on because they were ‘an embarrassment’ all of a sudden.
And, as much as she’d been avoiding thinking about it, a peaceful wedding also meant dealing with seeing Benjamin again. Which was just the cherry on top of the icing on top of the wedding cake—wasn’t it?
Another car—big and black and shiny—slowed as it reached the kerb beside her. Lauren felt hope rising. She’d asked the last of the cars ferrying wedding guests from Heathrow to swing into the city and pick her up on its way to Morwen Hall, rather than going around the M25. It would mean the passenger inside would have a rather longer journey, but she was sort of hoping he wouldn’t notice. Or mind having company for it.
Since the last guest was the groom Riley’s brother—Dan Black, her soon to be half-brother-in-law, or something—she really hoped he didn’t object. It would be nice at least to start out on good terms with her new family—especially since her existing family was generally on anything but. Her mother still hadn’t forgiven her for agreeing to organise Melissa’s wedding. Or, as she called her, ‘That illegitimate trollop daughter of your father’s mistress.’
Unsurprisingly, her mother wasn’t on the guest list.
Dan Black wasn’t a high-maintenance Hollywood star, at least—as far as Laurel could tell. In fact Melissa hadn’t told her anything about him at all. Probably because if he couldn’t further her career then Melissa wasn’t interested. All Laurel had to go on was the brief couple of lines Melissa and Riley had scribbled next to every name on the guest list, so Laurel would understand why they were important and why they’d been invited, and the address she had sent the invitation to.
Black Ops Stunts. Even the follow-up emails she’d sent to Dan when arranging the journey and his accommodation had been answered by the minimum possible number of words and no extraneous detail.
The man was a mystery. But one Laurel really didn’t have time to solve this week.
The car came to a smooth stop, and the driver hopped out before Laurel could even reach for the door handle.
‘Miss,’ he said with a brief nod, and opened the door to the back seat for her. She slid gratefully into her seat, smiling at the other occupant of the car as she did so.
‘I do hope you don’t mind sharing your car with me, Mr Black,’ she said, trying to sound professional and grateful and like family all at the same time. She was pretty sure the combination didn’t work, but until she had any better ideas she was sticking with it.
‘Dan,’ he said, holding out a hand.
Laurel reached out to take it, and as she looked up into his eyes the words she’d been about to speak caught in her throat.
She’d seen this man’s brother Riley a hundred times—on the screen at the cinema, on movie posters, on her telly, in magazines, on the internet, and even over Skype when they’d been planning the wedding. Melissa hadn’t actually brought him home to meet the family yet, but Laurel couldn’t honestly blame her for that. Still, she knew his face, and his ridiculously handsome, all-American good looks.
Why hadn’t it occurred to her that his older brother might be just as gorgeous?
Dan didn’t have the same clean, wholesome appeal that Riley did, Laurel would admit. But what he did have was a whole lot hotter.
His hair was closer cropped, with a touch of grey at the temples, and his jaw was covered in dark stubble, but his bright blue eyes were just like his brother’s. No, she decided, looking more closely, they weren’t. Riley’s were kind and warm and affable. Dan’s were sharp and piercing, and currently looking a bit amused...
Probably because she still hadn’t said anything.
‘I’m Laurel,’ she said quickly as the driver started the engine again and pulled out. ‘Your half-sister-in-law-to-be.’
‘My...what, now?’ His voice was deeper too, his words slower, more drawling.
‘I’m Melissa’s half-sister.’
‘Ah,’ Dan said, and from that one syllable Laurel was sure he already knew her whole story. Or at least her part in Melissa’s story.
Most people did, she’d found.
Either they’d watched one of Melissa’s many tearful interviews on the subject of her hardships growing up without a father at home, or they’d read the story online on one of her many fan sites. Everybody knew how Melissa had been brought up almost entirely by her single mother until the age of sixteen, while her father had spent most of his time with his other family in the next town over, only visiting when he could get away from his wife and daughter.
People rarely asked any questions about that other family, though. Or what had happened to them when her father had decided he’d had enough and walked out at last, to start his ‘real’ life with Melissa and her mother.
Laurel figured that at least that meant no one cared about her—least of all Melissa—so there were no photos of her on the internet, and no one could pick her out of a line-up. It was bad enough that her friends knew she was related to the beautiful, famous, talented Melissa Sommers. She didn’t think she could bear strangers stopping her in the street to ask about her sister. Wondering why Laurel, with all the family advantages she’d had, couldn’t be as beautiful, successful or brilliant as Melissa.
‘So you’re also the wedding planner, right?’ Dan asked, and Laurel gave him a grateful smile for the easy out.
‘That’s right. In fact, that’s why I’m up in town today. Melissa...uh...changed her mind about the wedding favours she wanted.’ That sounded better than her real suspicions—that Melissa was just coming up with new ways to torment her—right?
It wasn’t just the table favours, of course. When Melissa had first asked her to organise her wedding Laurel had felt pride swelling in her chest. She’d truly believed—for about five minutes—that her sister not only trusted in her talent, but also wanted to use her wedding to reach out an olive branch between the two of them at last.
Obviously that had been wishful thinking. Or possibly a delusion worthy of those of Melissa’s fans who wrote to her asking for her hand in marriage, never knowing that she tore up the letters and laughed.
‘She’s not making it easy, huh?’ Dan asked.
Laurel pasted on a smile. ‘You know brides! I wouldn’t have gone into this business if I didn’t know how to handle them.’
‘Right.’
He looked her over again and she wondered what he saw. A competent wedding planner, she hoped. She hadn’t had as much contact with Dan over the last few months as she had with the best man or the bridesmaids. But still, there’d been the invitation and the hotel bookings, and the flights and the car transfer—albeit she’d gatecrashed that. She’d been pleasant and efficient the whole way, even in the face of his one-word responses, and she really hoped he recognised that.
Because she knew what else he had to be thinking—what everyone thought when they looked at her through the lens of ‘being Melissa Sommers’s sister.’ That Laurel had definitely got the short straw in the genetic lottery.
Melissa, as seen on billboards and movie screens across the world, was tall, willowy, blonde and beautiful. She’d even been called the twenty-first-century Grace Kelly.
Laurel, on the other hand—well, she wasn’t.
Oh, she was cute enough, she knew—petite and curvy, with dark hair and dark eyes—but ‘cute’ wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t striking. She had the kind of looks that just disappeared when she stood beside Melissa—not least because she was almost a whole head shorter.
No, Laurel had resigned herself to being the opposite of everything Melissa was. Which also made her a less awful person, she liked to hope.
Dan was still watching her in silence, and words bubbled up in her throat just to fill the empty air.
‘But you know this isn’t just any wedding. I mean, Melissa and Riley wanted a celebrity wedding extravaganza, so that’s what I’ve tried to give them.’
‘I see,’ Dan replied, still watching.
Laurel babbled on. ‘Obviously she wanted it at Morwen Hall—she has a strong connection to the place, you see. And Eloise—she’s the manager there...well, the interim manager, I think... Anyway, you’ll meet her soon... What was I saying?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Sorry. I’m babbling.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘Oh!’ Laurel bounced in the car seat a little as she remembered where she’d been going with the conversation. ‘Anyway. I was just about to say that there’s lots planned for the next few days—with the welcome drinks tonight, the Frost Fair, and then the stag and hen dos tomorrow, local tours for the guests on Friday before the rehearsal dinner...’
‘And the actual wedding at some point, I assume?’ Dan added, eyebrows raised.
‘Well, of course.’ Laurel felt her skin flush hot for a moment. ‘I was working chronologically. From my Action List.’
‘I understand. Sounds like you have plenty to keep you busy this week.’
Laurel nodded, her head bobbing up and down at speed. ‘Absolutely. But that’s good! I mean, if this wedding goes well... It’s the first one I’ve arranged since I started my own business, you see, so it’s kind of a big deal. And it’s not like I’m in the wedding party at all—’
Neither was he, she realised suddenly. Wasn’t that a little odd? I mean, she knew why her sister wouldn’t want her trailing down the aisle in front of her with a bouquet, but why didn’t Riley want his brother standing up beside him for the ceremony?
Dan’s face had darkened at her words, so she hurried on, not really paying attention to what she was saying. ‘Which is just as well, since there’s so much to focus on! And besides, being behind the scenes means that it should be easier for me to avoid Benjamin—which is an advantage not to be overlooked.’
Oh. She hadn’t meant to mention Benjamin.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
‘Benjamin?’ Dan asked, and Laurel bit back a sigh.
Too much to hope for, clearly.
‘My ex-fiancé,’ she said succinctly, wondering if there was a way to tell this story that didn’t make her sound like a miserable, weak, doormat of a person.
Probably not.
‘He’s attending the wedding?’ Dan sounded surprised. She supposed that normal sisters wouldn’t invite their sibling’s ex-partner to their wedding. But the relationship between her and Melissa had never even pretended to be ‘normal’.
‘With his new fiancée,’ she confirmed.
Because it wasn’t humiliating enough just to have to face the man she’d thought was The One again, after he’d made it abundantly clear she wasn’t his anything, in front of her family, celebrities and the world’s media. She also had to do it with her replacement in attendance.
‘His parents are old friends of my father’s. We practically grew up together. Unlike me and my sister.’ She was only making things worse. ‘So, yeah, he’ll be there—just to maximise the awkward. And I’m not exactly looking forward to it, I’ll admit—especially since I haven’t seen him since... Anyway, it’ll all be fine, and I’ll mostly be organising wedding things anyway, like I said, so...’
There had to be a way out of this conversation that left her just a little dignity, surely? If she kept digging long enough maybe she’d find it—before her pride and self-confidence hitched a ride back to London in a passing cab.
‘The Wedding March’ rang out from the phone in her hand, and Laurel gave a silent prayer of thanks for the interruption—until she saw the name on the screen.
Melissa. Of course.
Sighing, she flashed a brief smile at Dan. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’
He leant back against the leather seats and nodded. ‘Of course.’
Laurel pressed ‘answer’. Time to see how her half-sister intended to make her day a little worse.
* * *
Considering that the hot little brunette who’d gatecrashed his ride to the hotel had done nothing but talk since they met, she was doing surprisingly little talking on her phone call.
‘Yes, but—’ Another sigh. ‘Of course, Melissa. You’re the bride, after all.’
Melissa. The blonde bombshell who’d exploded into his little brother’s world a year ago and taken it over. Dan and Riley had never been exactly what he’d call close—the six-year age-gap meant that they’d done their growing up at different times, and their parents’ blatant favouritism towards their younger son hadn’t made bonding any easier.
But the distance between them didn’t change the fact that Riley was his little brother and Dan loved him regardless. He’d loved him all through his Golden Boy childhood, through their parents cutting Dan off when he’d moved to LA and become a stuntman without their approval, and even through their outstanding hypocrisy when Riley had followed him nine years later.
Their parents were both world-renowned in their fields—cardiac surgery for their mother and orthopaedics for his father. That would have been enough to try and live up to under normal circumstances. But Dan had given up competing with anybody long before his younger brother had moved to Hollywood and become a star.
It wasn’t as if he was doing so shabbily by anyone’s terms—even his own. He owned his own business and his turnover doubled every year. He probably earned nearly as much as his hotshot brother, and even if the public would never know his name, the people who mattered in Hollywood did. He—or rather his company, Black Ops Stunts—was the first port of call for any major studio making an action movie these days. He’d made a success of the career his parents had been sure would kill him or ruin him.
Not that they cared all that much either way.
Dan shifted in his seat as he contemplated the week ahead of him. Five days in a luxury hotel—not so bad. Five days with the rich and obnoxious—less good. Five days dealing with his parents—nightmare.
When the invitation had first fallen onto his doormat he’d honestly considered skipping the whole thing. Formal events weren’t really his style, and he spent enough time with Hollywood actors to know that some of them had surprisingly little respect for the people who saved them from risking their lives doing their own stunts. And from what he’d heard about Melissa Sommers she was definitely one of them.
In fact it was all the industry gossip about Melissa that had persuaded him that he needed to be at Morwen Hall that week. Or rather the conflicting reports.
As far as Dan could tell every director and co-star who had ever worked with Melissa thought she was an angel. Anyone who ranked lower than a named credit in the titles, however, told a rather different story.
He sighed, running through his mind once more the series of off-the-record conversations he’d had recently. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story—he’d met enough stars who played the part of benevolent, caring, charitable celebrity to the hilt when anyone who mattered was looking, then turned into a spoilt brat the moment the cameras switched off. He’d even been married to one of them. The only difference was that this time it was Riley marrying the witch—and he needed to be sure his baby brother knew exactly what he was getting in to.
Riley didn’t do personas, Dan thought. In fact it was a mystery how he’d ever got into acting in the first place. It probably said something that he always got cast to play the nice guy, though. The ‘aw, shucks, good old country boy’ who found true love after ninety minutes, or the clean-cut superhero who could do no wrong.
That certainly fitted with the way their parents saw him, anyway.
But this week Dan was far more concerned with how Melissa saw him. Was it true love? Or was he her ticket to something bigger? Her career was doing well, as far as he could tell, but Riley was a step up. Stars had married for a lot less—and he didn’t want to see his brother heartbroken and alone six months after he said, ‘I do.’
‘Melissa...’
Laurel sighed again, and Dan tuned back in to the phone conversation she was enduring. Seemed as if Melissa didn’t count her half-sister as someone who mattered. Hardly unexpected, given their history, he supposed. Everyone knew that story—inside and outside the industry.
He wondered why Melissa had hired her famously estranged half-sister to organise the celebrity wedding of the year. Was it an attempt at reconciliation? Or a way to make Laurel’s life miserable? Judging by the phone call he was eavesdropping on, it definitely felt like the latter. Or maybe it was all about the way it would play in the media—that sounded like the Melissa he’d heard stories about from Jasmine, his best stunt woman, who’d doubled for Melissa once or twice.
This wedding would be his chance to find out for sure. Ideally before she and Riley walked down the aisle.
At least he had a plan. It was good to have something to focus on. Otherwise he might have found himself distracted—maybe even by the brunette on the phone...
‘I’ll be back at Morwen Hall in less than an hour,’ Laurel said finally, after a long pause during which she’d nodded silently with her eyes closed, despite the fact her sister obviously couldn’t see the gesture. ‘We can talk about it some more then, if you like.’
She opened her mouth to speak again, then shut it, lowering the phone from her ear and flashing him a tight smile.
‘She hung up,’ she explained.
‘Problems?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Laurel, he’d already learned, talked to fill the silence—something that seemed to be absent when she was speaking with her half-sister. If he let her ramble on maybe she’d be able to give him all the information about Melissa he needed to talk his brother out of this wedding. They could all be on their way home by dinner time, and he could get back to business as usual. Perfect.
‘Oh, not really,’ Laurel said lightly, waving a hand as if to brush away his concerns. ‘Just the usual. Last-minute nerves about everything.’
Dan sat up a little straighter. ‘About marrying Riley?’
‘Goodness, no!’
Laurel’s eyes widened to an unbelievable size—dark pools of chocolate-brown that a man could lose himself in, if he believed in that sort of thing.
‘Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant at all! I just meant...there are so many arrangements in place for this week and, even though I really do have them all in hand, Melissa just likes to...well, double check. And sometimes she has some new ideas that she’d like to fit in to the plans. Or changes she’d like to make.’
‘Such as the wedding favours?’ Dan said, nodding at the glossy bag by her feet.
‘Exactly!’ Laurel looked relieved at his understanding. ‘I’m so sorry if I worried you. My mouth tends to run a little faster than my brain sometimes. And there’s just so much to think about this week...’
‘Like your ex-fiancé,’ Dan guessed, leaning back against the seat as he studied her.
An informant who talked too much was exactly what he was looking for—even if he hadn’t really thought about her as such until now. Fate had tossed him a bone on this one.
Laurel’s face fell, her misery clear. Had the woman ever had a thought that wasn’t instantly telegraphed through her expression? Not that he was complaining—anything that made reading women easier was a plus in his book. But after spending years learning to school his responses, to keep his expressions bland and boring, he found it interesting that Laurel gave so much away for free.
In Hollywood, he assumed people were acting all the time. In the case of people who had to deal with the over-expressive actors, directors and so on, they learned to lock down their response, to nod politely and move on without ever showing annoyance, disagreement or even disgust.
Laurel wasn’t acting—he could tell. And she certainly wasn’t locking anything down. Especially not her feelings about her ex-fiancé.
‘Like Benjamin,’ she agreed, wincing. ‘Not that I’m planning on thinking about him much. Or that I’ve been pining away after him ever since...well, since everything happened.’
Yeah, that sounded like a lie. Maybe she hadn’t been pining, but she’d certainly been thinking about him—that much was obvious.
‘What did happen? If you don’t mind me asking.’
Dan shifted in his seat to turn towards her. He was surprised to find himself honestly interested in the answer. Partly because he was sympathetic to her plight—it was never fun to run into an ex, which was one of the reasons he avoided celebrity parties these days unless he could be sure Cassie wouldn’t be there—and partly because he couldn’t understand why Melissa would invite her half-sister’s ex-fiancé to her wedding. Old family friends or not, that was a level of harsh not usually seen in normal people.
Which only made him more concerned for Riley.
Laurel sighed, and there was a world of feeling in the sound as her shoulders slumped.
‘Oh, the usual, I suppose. I thought everything was perfect. We were going to get married, live happily ever after—you know, get the fairy tale ending and everything.’ She looked up and met his gaze, as if checking that he did understand what a fairy tale was.
‘Oh, I understand,’ he said, with feeling. Hadn’t that been what he’d thought would be his by rights when he said ‘I do’ to Cassie? Look how wrong he’d been about that.
‘But then it turned out that he wanted the fairy tale with someone else instead.’ She shrugged, her mouth twisting up into a half-smile. ‘I guess sometimes these things just don’t work out.’
‘You seem surprisingly sanguine about it.’
‘Well, it’s been six months,’ Laurel answered. ‘Melissa says I should be well over it by now. I mean, he obviously is, right?’
Six months? Six months after Cassie had left him Dan had still been drinking his way through most of LA’s less salubrious bars. He probably still would be if his business partner hadn’t hauled him out and pointed out that revenge was sweeter than moping.
Making a huge financial and professional success of Black Ops Stunts wasn’t just a personal win. It was revenge against the ex-wife who’d always said he’d never be worth anything.
‘People get over things in their own way and their own time,’ Dan said, trying to focus on the week in front of him, not the life he’d left behind.
‘The hardest part was telling my family,’ Laurel admitted, looking miserable all over again. ‘I mean, getting engaged to Benjamin was the first thing I’d done right in my father’s eyes since I was about fifteen. Even my stepmother was pleased. Benjamin was—is, I suppose—quite the catch in her book. Rich, well-known, charming...’ She gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘I suppose I should have known it was too good to be true.’
‘So, what are you going to do now?’ Dan asked.
Laurel took a deep breath and put on a brave smile that didn’t convince him for a moment.
‘I’ve sworn off men for the time being. I’m going to focus on my business and on myself for a while. And then, when I’m ready, maybe I’ll consider dating again. But this time, I want to be a hundred per cent sure it’s the real thing—the whole fairy tale—before I let myself fall.’
Well, that was rather more information than he’d been looking for. Dan smiled back, awkwardly. ‘Actually, I meant...how do you plan to get through spending a week in the same hotel as him?’
Laurel turned pale. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Of course you don’t want to hear about that! Melissa always says I talk about myself far too much. Anyway... This week... Well, like I said, I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’m hoping that will keep me so busy I don’t even have to think about him.’
If Melissa had her way Dan suspected Laurel would be plenty busy. And probably only talking about Melissa, too.
‘What you really need is a new boyfriend to flaunt in his face,’ he joked, and Laurel laughed.
‘That would be good,’ she agreed, grinning at him. ‘But even if I hadn’t sworn off men I’ve barely had time to sleep since I started organising this wedding, so I definitely haven’t had time to date.’
That was a shame, Dan decided. Laurel, with her warm brown eyes and curvy figure, should definitely be dating. She shouldn’t be locking herself away, even if it wasn’t for ever. She should be out in the world, making it a brighter place. Less than an hour together and he already knew that Laurel was one of the good ones—and the complete opposite of everything he suspected about her half-sister. Laurel should be smiling up at a guy who treated her right for a change. A guy who wanted to spend the rest of his life making her smile that way. The prince she was waiting for.
Dan knew he was definitely not that guy. Treating women right wasn’t the problem—he had utter respect for any woman who hadn’t previously been married to him. But he didn’t do ‘for ever’ any more. Not after Cassie.
Besides, he knew from experience that ‘for ever’ wasn’t what women wanted from him, anyway. They wanted a stand-in—just like the directors did when they hired him or one of his people. Someone to come in, do good work, take the fall, and be ready to get out of the way when the real star of the show came along.
But maybe, he realised suddenly, that was exactly what Laurel needed this week.
A stand-in.
That, Dan knew, he could absolutely do. And it might just help him out in his mission to save his baby brother from a whole load of heartbreak, too, by getting him closer to the centre of the action.
‘What if he just thought you had a boyfriend?’ Dan asked, and Laurel’s nose wrinkled in confusion.
‘Like, lie to him?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m a terrible liar. He’d never believe me. Besides, if I had a boyfriend why wouldn’t he be at the wedding?’
‘He would be,’ Dan said, and the confusion in Laurel’s eyes grew.
He almost laughed—except that wouldn’t get him any closer to what he wanted: a ringside seat to find out what the bride was really like.
‘I don’t understand,’ Laurel said.
Dan smiled. Of course she didn’t. That was one of the things he was growing to like about her, after their limited acquaintance—her lack of subterfuge.
‘Me. Let me be your pretend boyfriend for the week.’
