I Do--Or Do I?

by Karen King

  ‘Timothy’s bound to find out, and then what will he think?’ Sam shook her head. ‘You are over Jared, aren’t you?’ She looked Cassie straight in the face. ‘You haven’t still got feelings for him?’

  ‘Of course not!’ She retorted quickly. ‘Stop making such a big deal out of this. Jared and I were over years ago. So what if I haven’t mentioned it to Timothy? We haven’t shared a list of our past relationships. As far as we’re concerned the past is the past. It’s now that matters.’

  ‘You should still tell him though, it looks like you’re keeping it a secret and he’ll wonder why.’

  ‘He won’t be the slightest bit bothered. That fact that I didn’t mention it and that Jared and I didn’t chat about old times proves just how much we are over it. Timothy will realise that. In fact, if I do mention it he’ll wonder why I’m making such a big deal out of it.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realised she was right. Timothy wouldn’t expect her to tell him that she dated Jared many years ago. It was history. Jared was working for I.D. Images and had been appointed to take the photos of their wedding. It was as simple as that.

  Then she realised Sam had opened the paper she’d placed on the table and was staring at it. ‘What?’

  ‘This is yours, isn’t it? You’re Paige Stevens?’

  Cassie was stunned. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Because it’s all there. Paige who’s about to be married to Ian, the hot-shot business man with his interfering “monster-in-law” who’s only gone and arranged Paige’s ex to take the photos. I quote, “Blake broke my heart and now he was going to photograph our wedding. What should I do?” The reader has to decide whether Paige should tell Ian about him or not.’

  What? ‘Give me that!’ Cassie grabbed the paper and quickly scanned the page.

  Almost a Bride

  When I agreed to marry Ian, my fiancé, a couple of months ago I was imagining us getting married next year. Or the year after. Not in less than two months’ time thanks to my monster-in-law-to-be hearing about a cancellation at the ‘perfect venue’. I’m in a right panic. There’s so much to do. The wedding dress, bridesmaids’ dresses, flowers, invitations, favours, photographs … and that’s just for starters.

  Just in case you’re planning a wedding too, I thought I’d keep a diary to record all the things I’ve learnt and found helpful. You can write in and tell me your tips too. One tip I’d really like is how to stop your future mother-in-law completely taking over. I mean, I’m glad of her help, really I am, especially with the wedding so near, but I wish she’d remember that it’s MY wedding not hers.

  We hadn’t even got around to thinking about venues when monster-in-law phoned us to say she’d booked our venue. That’s right, booked it without even a mention to us. And yes, it’s lovely but she actually booked it without asking us first. She heard that there was a cancellation and didn’t want it to get snapped up. And then she booked us a wedding photographer. I literally had to grit my teeth and count to ten zillion. Ian doesn’t seem to mind at all, and keeps telling me she’s only trying to help, and we should be grateful.

  Help? She’s taking over. She frowns if I have milk and sugar in my coffee or the tiniest morsel of cake. ‘Think of the wedding dress, dear,’ she mutters through pursed lips. ‘You don’t want to have to let it out, do you?’ Let it out? I haven’t even ordered it yet. She’s put me on a pre-wedding diet so I don’t look too fat in the photos. And in her book anything over a size ten is fat. If it wasn’t for my illicit iced mochas with my best mate Andrea, and the secret sash of chocolates in my shoe cupboard, I’d have keeled over with starvation by now.

  And to top it all off, when we walked into the photographer’s I nearly fainted with shock. Honestly, I could have died right there and then! It was only Blake, my ex. The ex I had a mad, passionate affair with years ago and that I haven’t told Ian about yet. I don’t know how I did it but I managed to totally blank him like I’d never met him before, and left monster-in-law to talk to him, but all the while I could feel his eyes boring into me. And the very worst thing was, as Blake shook my hand when I was about to go, I felt a sort of tingle shoot up my arm, just like it used to; which is ridiculous because I love Ian and have absolutely no feelings for Blake at all.

  What am I going to do? If I say I want to change the photographer, Ian and monster-in-law will want to know why, because this is one of the best wedding photography firms around and we’re lucky to have got them (monster-in-law’s words). And they’ll wonder why I didn’t say anything when I saw him. But how can I let my ex photograph our wedding? What should I do?

  There were three questions at the bottom of the column: should she insist on changing the photographer, tell Ian about their affair, or keep the photographer and don’t say anything? The readers were asked to email what they think she should do.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Sam was right. It was all there. But this was the piece she was messing around with. How the hell had Owen got hold of it?

  Seven

  ‘Whatever made you write all that?’ Sam asked her. ‘I mean, it’s fantastic. You’re going to have the whole nation gripped, but if Timothy reads it it’ll be goodbye wedding.’

  ‘I didn’t write it. Well, I did, but not for publication. This isn’t the copy I sent over.’ Cassie exclaimed, reading the article again. ‘I don’t understand … oh shit!’ She clapped her forehead with her hand. Owen had called her into the office just as she’d been about to send over her column. And when she came back Gary had told her he’d collected it from her computer and sent it over to sub himself. He’d obviously collected the wrong column. He must have glanced at her screen, saw the file, and used the latest version. She remembered it now, she’d just hit save when Owen had called her into his office! Damn, damn, damn. What had possessed her to write that fake column and save it to her desktop instead of her personal files?

  She quickly explained. ‘What am I going to do? The one they were meant to print was nothing like this. And the voting options were whether we should have a big wedding or a small family affair, not whether I should tell Timothy – I mean Ian –about Blake or not. What if one of Timothy’s friends or colleagues reads this? They’ll know I’ve written it.’

  ‘They won’t if they don’t know about Jared,’ Sam pointed out. ‘Ian the stuffy businessman and his interfering mother could be hundreds of people. Love the way you used “monster-in-law” for her, by the way.’ She grinned.

  ‘Timothy and his mum will know I’ve written it if they see it. It’s so obvious. Hello, I’m about to get married, Sylvia found the wedding venue and the photographer for us. What am I going to do? Why didn’t I check what version Gary had sent over?’ Because she’d been busy covering the demonstration at the Council building, that’s why.

  ‘Look, I’m sure Sylvia never reads this paper, she’s more of a Times reader, isn’t she? And Timothy must be, too. Or do they read it to see your stuff?’

  Cassie shook her head. ‘No, Timothy never reads any of my articles. And his mother, well, she just thinks it’s a hobby of mine and would never stoop so low as to read the local newspaper.’ She felt a bit calmer now. There was no need to panic, she could put this right. ‘I’ll talk to Owen on Monday, explain what’s happened, and tell him we need to write it differently next week. I’ll just say we’ve changed the photographer then concentrate on other wedding stuff. Keep the interfering mother-in-law in the background. It’ll be fine, Owen’ll understand.’ He had to. This was her future at stake. Her happiness.

  ‘Will he do that? It says that the column will be every Saturday for the next couple of months, until Paige’s wedding. And there’s a vote opening. People will be voting for what they want you to do. What if they want you not to tell Ian and keep Blake as the photographer?’

  ‘Well, I bloody well won’t, I don’t care what Owen says.’ She shook her head in disbelief as she looked at the article again. ‘I can’t believe this has happened. Thank goodness I didn�
�t tell Timothy about Jared. If I had and he saw this article he’d know it’s me writing it. Then he’d be mad about all the stuff I wrote about him and his mum. Timothy’s a very private person. I don’t think he’d understand about artistic licence and keeping readers hooked.’

  ‘I guess you’re right,’ Sam grinned. ‘Anyway, it’s a kind of karma that Jared is photographing your very expensive wedding to a high-flying lawyer. Serves him right for dumping you.’

  Cassie had to admit, that did feel good. Sam was the only one who really knew how totally heartbroken she’d been when Jared dumped her.

  ‘Maybe you don’t need to tell Timothy. You’ve sorted out the photos and albums now, haven’t you? So you’ll only be seeing him on your wedding day and you’ll be too loved-up to be bothered by who’s taking the photos.’

  ‘Actually, we’ve got a couple of appointments with him before then,’ Cassie confessed. ‘Jared wants to familiarise himself with the venue so we’re meeting him on Thursday, and we’re having some pre-wedding shots, and an engagement photo – yes, I know we got engaged Valentine’s Day but we’re going to recreate the scene, wear the same clothes.’

  ‘That little lot must be costing a fortune,’ Sam said admiringly. ‘Lucky you.’

  She was lucky, Cassie thought. Not because Timothy was rich, she wasn’t that mercenary, but because he was such a nice guy. He adored her and she adored him. That’s all that mattered.

  ‘Timothy did mention having some honeymoon shots as well, but I don’t think I can handle Jared coming with us.’

  Sam almost choked on her chicken salad wrap. ‘Absolutely not! You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I told Timothy that I wanted the honeymoon to be an intimate affair, just the two of us, and he’s agreed. Let’s finish lunch and see if we can at least nail the wedding dress today.’ She finished her coffee. ‘Do you realise that there’s only seven Saturdays before the wedding?’

  ‘I know and I can’t believe that you’ve no idea what you want to wear,’ Sam told her. ‘I’ve had my wedding dress planned for ages. I know exactly what I want. I just need Paul to pop the question.’

  ‘I’m sure he will soon. You’ve been together for ages,’ Sam reassured her. Sam was such a romantic. She could imagine her wedding. It would be all hearts and flowers, silk, and lace.

  ‘Oh, there’s no rush. I’m happy as we are, really. Although I do want to get married one day, and when we do I want lots of white lace and net. I intend to look like a princess. It’s the only day I get to be the main attraction and I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth.’

  ‘I don’t want anything too fussy. Definitely not a meringue,’ Cassie said adamantly. ‘You’ll never believe it, but Sylvia was trying to talk me into going to see Leah Maylin and having my dress specially made. Of course, she knows the designer personally and between them they’d choose the dress for me. I wouldn’t get a look-in. Thank goodness Timothy backed me up when I said no, although I could tell he thought it was a good idea.’

  Sam stared at her, mouth open in a big O. It was as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, she managed it. ‘Sylvia was going to ask a top designer to personally make your wedding dress and you said no?’ She shook her head. ‘Now I know you’re nuts.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want a designer dress, it’s that I don’t want Sylvia running the show and making all the decisions. You have no idea what she’s like. Every dress I try on she’d frown at, or purse her lips or ask “Are you sure that is the one you want, Cassandra?” In that patronising voice, making it clear she doesn’t approve and I’ll end up doubting my own taste and having what she wants. I want to choose my own dress. Plan my own wedding. She’s driving me nuts.’ She hadn’t meant to rant so much but the words just came pouring out. She’d been bottling up her irritation with Sylvia for weeks now and once she let it out she couldn’t seem to stop it.

  ‘Good for you.’ Sam clapped enthusiastically, causing a couple of people to glance over at them. ‘We’ll show her. Come on, let’s go wedding dress shopping.’

  ‘She’s not as bad as all that,’ Cassie said, feeling guilty as they got up from table. ‘It’s just that she’s so controlling.’

  ‘Yes, and Timothy lets her be. I’m glad you’re standing up to her. If you don’t, she’ll be a nightmare once you get married. You need to nip her interfering ways in the bud before she gets worse.’

  Cassie was worried about that herself. There wasn’t a day that went by when Sylvia didn’t ring Timothy at least twice, and she always seemed to know more about his life and whereabouts than Cassie did.

  ‘I guess your column next week will be about buying the wedding dress,’ Sam said as they left the café. ‘You’d better not put anything horrible about me in your articles. I’ll be reading them, you know!’

  ‘As if!’

  ‘Good. Well, as I’m the maid of honour it’s my responsibility to make sure you get the dress you want,’ Sam said. ‘So I’ve drawn up a list of bridal shops to visit and we’re not coming home until you’ve found your dream dress.’

  ‘We’re in for a long afternoon, then,’ Cassie said with a mock groan. The truth was that she did need someone to organise her. Left to her own devices she’d be doing everything at the last minute.

  Left to her own devices she wouldn’t be getting married yet. She shoved the thought out of her mind. OK, yes, she had thought it would be a year or two before they tied the knot but what did it matter? And at least this way it was more exciting and there was less time to have an attack of nerves. The last thing she wanted to turn into was a bridezilla.

  Sam was a woman on a mission and she’d certainly done her homework. The first bridal shop she took them into had a stunning array of designer dresses, ranging from the more formal wedding gowns to Grecian goddess-styles. Sam was practically drooling over them.

  ‘What about this?’ she asked, holding up a classic gown with a high waist and full skirt. ‘Very Audrey Hepburn. You’ll look sensational in this.’

  ‘It is lovely,’ Cassie agreed. ‘But it isn’t really the style I’m looking for.’

  ‘Try it on, dear. The dresses look so different on,’ the owner told her, leading the way to a large cubicle. ‘Take your time, try on as many as you like. We offer a wide range and our skilled seamstresses can do any alterations you wish.’ She pulled open the red velvet curtains that enclose the changing cubicle. ‘When’s the wedding?’ she asked.

  ‘June 26th,’ Cassie told her.

  ‘Less than two months away? Don’t worry dear, we can sort you out.’

  Cassie selected an assortment of dresses and the elegant lady hung them on a rail outside the cubicle, passing them to her one by one.

  Sam sat down on a pouffé and waited for the fashion show to begin. First, Cassie tried on a white satin dress with lace detail and a fishtail. It looked gorgeous but she found it difficult to walk in. ‘I feel like I’m waddling,’ she told Sam, who grinned.

  ‘You look sensational. It really shows off your curves.’

  The next dress was an exquisite floral lace number with a sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves. Cassie loved it apart from the neckline. Then she tried on a flowing full-skirted dress with a fitted corset that made her look like she actually had boobs, which Sam was ecstatic over. In fact, it was very Sam. But not at all Cassie. A succession of other dresses followed: long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless, backless, corseted …

  Sam gasped in awe at all of them, exclaiming that each one in turn was totally divine, but although Cassie liked them all none of them was ‘the one’.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she told the woman. ‘They’re all really gorgeous. But …’

  ‘But not for you.’ The woman patted her on the arm. ‘Don’t apologise. Your wedding dress is the most important dress you will ever wear. It must feel right. You must feel like a princess in it. Like the most beautiful woman in the world. Don’t settle for a dress that ma
kes you feel anything less.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Cassie could have hugged the woman. She was right, what she was looking for was the dress that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

  She found it; three hours and six bridal shops later. A stunning lace and satin wedding gown with a scalloped lace neckline, three quarter sleeves, and a keyhole back. It fitted over the hips and flared out from the knees. It made her look elegant, sophisticated, and sexy.

  ‘It’s perfect!’ Sam clapped her hands, almost squealing in delight. ‘You’ve got to have it, Cassie.’

  Cassie stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. It was a wonderful dress. Sam was right, she had to have it.

  She looked at the price tag and hesitated. It was a lot of money but Timothy had opened a special wedding account for her and told her to spend as much as she needed. ‘What matters is that you get the dress you want,’ he’d insisted. ‘Don’t even think about the expense.’

  Well, this was it.

  ‘You’ve got to have it,’ Sam repeated. ‘Timothy’s eyes will pop out of his head when he sees you in in this. And it will look absolutely amazing on the photographs.’

  But as Cassie looked at her reflection in the mirror the question that popped into her mind was what Jared would think when he saw her in this dress.

  Eight

  Cassie went to the office early on Monday morning, hoping to catch Owen in a good mood. She’d practised the speech she was going to make and was pretty sure she could talk him around. It was likely that hardly anyone had read the column and voted anyway, she thought. People were so busy at the weekends and it was only the local paper, not one of the big dailies, she reminded herself.

  As she walked through the door she was astonished to be greeted by a chorus of cheers and clapping.