by Karen King
She had to admit that the flower arrangements were beautiful. Some of them were really stunning. They were mainly silk flowers though, and too elaborate for her liking.
‘I wanted something simpler, and fresh flowers, not silk,’ she said. ‘Actually, I’ve got a picture of the sort of bouquet I wanted.’ She opened her handbag and took the magazine cutting out of the pocket. ‘See, the flowers are the exact blue of the bridesmaids’ dresses, and the pale pink and white go so well with them.’ She looked at Timothy. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s very pretty, and if that’s what you want then of course, that’s what you shall have. Are you thinking of the blue or white for buttonholes? I don’t think the men will want to wear pink.’ There was a teasing tone to his voice.
‘I thought white, as you’re wearing blue ties to match.’
‘It is quite nice, in a simplistic way,’ Sylvia stressed the word ‘simplistic’. ‘If you’re sure this is really what you want, dear, then you need to sort out a florist quickly. They need plenty of notice, you know. And you’ll have to arrange to pick them up either the evening before or the morning of the wedding; I would think in the morning. Fresh flowers wilt so quickly.’
‘I know, but they look so lovely and smell so wonderful. There’s a florist in town, I’ll pop in on Monday and see if she can make them up for me. I thought a bouquet for me and Sam and posies for the flower girls. Plus buttonholes for Mum, Dad, yourself, Timothy, and the best man. That’s about it, isn’t it?’
‘What about table decorations?’ Sylvia reminded her. ‘Are you intending to have fresh flowers for them, too?’
‘I’d like to. I know they don’t last, but I love the smell of fresh flowers.’
She could see that Sylvia disapproved but Timothy looked agreeable. ‘Then that’s all settled,’ he nodded. ‘Which leaves the wedding cake, favours, and entertainment.’
Sylvia whipped out another brochure from her bag. ‘I brought along some literature on wedding cakes; I thought they might come in handy. And I’ve made a few enquiries, so I know these caterers can accommodate our date.’
‘Can you leave them with us to look at?’ Cassie asked in her best ‘friendly’ voice. ‘I want to take my time choosing the cake.’
Sylvia pursed her lips. ‘As you wish, but I promised to let them know our selection by Saturday so don’t take too long deciding.’
‘I won’t,’ Cassie promised, trying not to let the fact that Sylvia had said ‘our’ twice when referring to the wedding bother her.
‘I brought some literature about entertainment, too.’ Sylvia whisked some brochures out of her bag. ‘It’s so important to set the right tone, isn’t it? Something classy.’
By the end of the evening the entertainment was decided; a string quartet and a solo performance by Alana Mayers, the famous vocalist. Cassie had suggested a rock band, but the look of horror on both Timothy and his mother’s faces put paid to that.
It’s your wedding, stick up for yourself, she told herself. She was out of her depth though, and afraid to fight her corner in case it turned out to be a disaster. She knew that many of Timothy’s colleagues and friends would be there, and didn’t want to let him down. He would be humiliated if anything went wrong. Never mind, I’ve chosen the dresses and am also choosing the flowers, table decorations, favours, and the cake, she reminded herself. It was Timothy’s day too, it was only natural he wanted some input.
‘How are you getting on with the Campbell’s wedding?’ Daniel asked, popping his head around the door just as Jared was about to leave.
‘Fine, they want me to take some honeymoon photos too so I’ve got to go to the Maldives,’ he grinned at Daniel. ‘I bet you wish you’d taken on this job yourself now.’
‘Completely booked all that month. Besides I know Sylvia personally, so I prefer someone else to deal with the photographs. Never mix friends and business and all that.’ He perched on the end of the desk. ‘Well, she’s not exactly a friend but she’s an important acquaintance and has very good connections. I hope you can keep her happy. She can be a bit difficult.’
‘I’ll do my best. To be honest, I’ve only seen her a couple of times. Most of my contact has been with the bride and groom-to-be.’
‘Hmm, the bride-to-be is quite a beauty, isn’t she? Not sure what she sees in Campbell, he’s a bit stuffy. I guess his money helps.’
Jared fought back an angry retort, indignant on Cassie’s behalf. She was just a client, Daniel would be suspicious if he overreacted. ‘Who knows what people see in each other?’ He shrugged. ‘Each to their own, I guess.’
‘How about you? No thoughts of settling down yet?’ Daniel asked. ‘Don’t you ever want to put down roots? Have someone to come home to?’
Jared pushed away the image of Cassie waiting for him, arms open wide, lips poised to kiss. ‘No way, I’m happy as I am. Footloose and fancy free.’
‘Not even with the lovely Savannah?’
Definitely not with Savannah. She was good company for the occasional night out, but far too neurotic and high maintenance for anything permanent. He’d be living on edge all the time. ‘It’s just a casual thing. We just keep each other company when we’re both in town,’ he replied. ‘She’s on a modelling shoot in Cape Verde for a few days.’
‘Great, that means you’re free to come to the dinner party with us tonight?’
‘What dinner party?’
‘Lord Sundan’s invited us. It’ll be a good opportunity to network. There’ll be lots of influential people there and Imogen wants to show you off. She’s quite proud of the latest addition to our team.’
‘Wants to match-make more like, knowing Imogen,’ Jared said with a good-humoured grin. ‘Go on then, it’ll be a free meal and interesting company, but warn Imogen that I’m off the market.’
Daniel eased himself off the desk and slapped Jared on the back. ‘You’ll get smitten one day, you’ll see, and then you’ll be caught just like the rest of us.’
‘Trapped, you mean.’ Jared picked up his briefcase. ‘Where and when?’
‘Eight thirty, Royal Grande Hotel,’ Daniel related the details. ‘Smart dress – not your usual jeans and tatty jacket,’ he called as Jared strode over to the door.
Jared gave a mock salute.
It was nearer nine when Jared strode into the hotel lounge. It had taken him a while to find his dinner suit, and then he’d realised his shirt needed ironing, but as he glanced around the room he was glad that he’d made the decision to wear it. All the men wore dinner jackets while the women wore a lavish selection of evening dresses and expensive jewellery. Thank goodness Daniel had warned him to dress smartly.
‘Ah, there you are, Jared, come and meet Sir Hugh and Lady Miriam.’ Isobel glided over to him, and grasped his arm, leading him through the throng to a join a middle-aged, aristocratic-looking couple.
Introductions were exchanged, and he was soon engaged in a conversation with Lady Miriam about the rainforest expedition he’d gone on last year. Champagne was being passed around. As he reached out to take a glass he noticed a familiar figure in the corner; his back was to him but he was sure it was Timothy Campbell. However, the lady he had his arm around and whose ear he was whispering into was definitely not Cassie.
Seventeen
‘So what’s next on the hit list?’ Sam asked, pouring them both another glass of rosé. ‘The way we’re going we’ll get it all sorted out in no time.’
Cassie studied her list. They’d decided on the favours – a gold chain bracelet for the women guests and a gold tie pin with diamond inset for the men.
‘Presents for the bridesmaids, you and the best man. The flowers and the wedding cake.’
‘I’m surprised monster-in-law hasn’t booked you an appointment with a top florist and ordered a bespoke wedding cake to be made,’ Sam said with a grin. She picked up the selection leaflet on the open box of dark chocolates on the coffee table and studied it carefully before selecting a strawberry cream
.
Cassie rolled her eyes. ‘Believe me, she wanted to. I don’t know how I managed to stop her.’ She reached out and selected a chocolate herself. She didn’t bother to check the description, merely picking the nearest one. All chocolate was equal as far as she was concerned. She popped it into her mouth. Coffee cream. Delicious. ‘Sylvia’s only gone and booked us an appointment with Jared on Thursday evening for our engagement photographs. She said she checked Timothy’s diary and saw that he was free. Of course, she didn’t bother to check if I was. I’m just expected to fall in with her plans.’
Sam whistled. ‘I forgot you were doing that. It’s going to be a bit weird, isn’t it? Recreating your engagement night while your ex films it.’
Cassie nodded. ‘I could do without it, to be honest,’ she confessed. ‘Timothy’s set on it, though. As far as I’m concerned, the less I see Jared the better.’
Sam studied her thoughtfully. ‘Are you sure you haven’t got feelings for him?’
‘Of course not. It’s just … like you said, awkward.’ Cassie shrugged and helped herself to another chocolate. ‘I guess it’s no big deal, it’ll only take a few minutes.’
‘What will Timothy say if he comes home early and catches you scoffing chocolates and wine just weeks before your wedding?’ Sam teased.
‘He won’t be home for ages yet, those dinner parties drag on a bit.’ She’d been relieved that Timothy hadn’t tried to persuade her to go with him that evening. He’d told her he was working late a couple of days ago, so she’d arranged for Sam to come around and help her with wedding arrangements, then he’d come home last night and informed her he’d completely forgotten about a dinner party invitation. She’d offered to cancel Sam and accompany him, but he must have sensed her heart wasn’t in it and told her he’d go alone. ‘It’s only a few people from work, networking,’ he said. ‘You’ll be bored stiff, darling. And I know you want to get the wedding sorted before you go on your press trip to France. Felicity and Andrew are going so I won’t be a wallflower.’ She’d readily agreed: she hated dinner parties. She always felt awkward with Timothy’s friends; especially Felicity and Andrew. An evening with Sam feasting on chocolates and wine was much more her idea of fun.
She picked up another chocolate and bit into it. Turkish delight. She savoured it for a moment. ‘I’ll be too busy rushing around when I’m in France that I won’t have time to eat, so I’ll soon lose any extra weight. Now, let’s take a look at some flowers.’ She keyed in ‘Wedding Flowers’ on the internet search bar on her laptop. ‘What do you think of these?’ she asked, sliding the laptop over to Sam and pointing to a pretty posy of pale blue and ivory flowers. ‘They’re the same colour as the dresses.’
Sam peered over and nodded. ‘They’re lovely. But I thought you wanted pale pink, too? Didn’t you show me a picture of the bouquet you liked?’
‘I’ve got it here.’ Cassie reached for the handbag besides her feet and rummaged through it, pulling out the crumpled picture. ‘There we are, see, it’s the same shade of blue.’ She handed it to Sam. ‘I thought if I was the only one who had pink in my bouquet then I’d stand out more as the bride.’
‘Good thinking.’ Sam carefully selected another chocolate and popped it into her mouth. ‘Not that there’ll be any doubt about that, as you’ll be the one wearing the white dress.’
‘I’ll print it out so I can show the florists the sort of thing I’m after.’ She sent the picture to the wireless printer in Owen’s office. ‘Let’s have a look at wedding cakes.’
‘I think you’ve left it a bit late if you want one specially made.’ Sam licked her fingers and wiped them on her jeans. ‘A lot of people have cupcakes now. Hey, that one’s gorgeous.’ She pointed to a pastel blue two-tier cake decorated with pearl piping and white sugar roses.
Cassie studied it thoughtfully. ‘I just wonder if it’s overdoing the blue.’
They flicked through more cake designs, with Cassie sending a few to the printer in Timothy’s study. Then Sam noticed the time. ‘I didn’t realise it was that late. Paul’s picking me up in five minutes.’ She’d told Cassie when she arrived that Paul was dropping her off on the way to the gym, and picking her back up again on his way home, so she could have a couple of glasses of wine. She grabbed her jacket and bag. ‘It’s been fab. We must do this again.’
‘Thanks for your help. At least I’ve got a few ideas to show the florists now.’ Cassie walked to the door with Sam, reaching it just as Sam’s phone buzzed to announce an incoming text. ‘That’ll be Paul. He said he’d text me when he arrived. Good luck with the florist.’ Sam hugged her goodbye then was out of the door.
Cassie cleared away the wine and chocolates, throwing the empty chocolate box and wine bottles down the chute, then washed the glasses and put them away. That done, she padded down the hall barefoot and opened the door to Timothy’s study to get the pictures of the cake designs. She rarely went in here, especially if Timothy wasn’t in. It made her feel a bit of a snooper. Although Timothy had never asked her not to go in and always left the door unlocked, she knew he considered it his private territory and hated her to touch anything on his desk. Not that she would. She respected his privacy as he respected hers. Neither of them would dream of snooping at each other’s text messages or email, or opening each other’s post.
She made her way over to the printer and picked up the handful of pictures waiting for her. As she turned away her gaze caught something on the desk. A picture of Timothy and Felicity, both dressed up to the nines, holding a glass of wine. She guessed it was taken at one of the various dinners or networking events they went to, the ones Cassie always tried to avoid going to. They were smiling and looked relaxed together. She couldn’t help thinking that someone like Felicity would make a more suitable partner for Timothy than her. Someone in the same career, who liked entertaining, putting on dinner parties, all the sort of things Cassie hated. She’d mentioned it to him once but he’d merely pulled her close and kissed her, telling her that he would be bored stiff with someone like Felicity and preferred someone warm and uncomplicated like herself.
She’d felt a bit miffed to be described as ‘warm and uncomplicated’. Jared had always called her feisty and hot. ‘You’re so hot,’ he’d murmured as he nibbled her ear, sprinkled kisses down her throat …
She pushed the thoughts away, put the photo back down on the desk, and returned to the lounge to study the pictures. She placed them all in a clear folder, folded it in half, and slipped it into the front pocket of her bag so she could easily find it to show the florists. She yawned and glanced at the clock. Timothy had told her he didn’t know what time he’d be home so not to wait up for him. She loved the fact that their relationship was so trusting and non-clingy. Timothy gave her space to breathe, to be herself. She yawned again. Time for bed. It was pointless waiting up when she was so tired.
She quickly removed her makeup, washed, then slid into bed, her eyes closing almost the moment they touched the pillow.
It was some time before Timothy noticed Jared. When he did he merely acknowledged him with a brief nod, obviously not wanting to demean himself by socialising with him. Like he’d want to mix with a twat like that. Jared nodded briefly back, then turned away, and started talking to the person nearest to him. That’d show Campbell just how important he regarded him.
‘Timothy!’ Imogen made a beeline for him. ‘And Felicity darling, how delightful to see you both.’ She enveloped them in a hug then stepped back and looked around. ‘Where are your other halves? I’d like to meet your fiancée, Timothy.’
‘Cassie isn’t really fond of dinner parties, so she’s at home making wedding plans with her maid of honour.’ Timothy glanced at Felicity. ‘Andrew’s away on a business trip and Felicity didn’t want to miss your party, so we decided to keep each other company.’
‘Not that I need Timothy to accompany me, I’m quite capable of attending events like this alone,’ Felicity cut in. ‘However, we thought it wo
uld be a good opportunity for us both to network.’
‘Never miss an opportunity to network, that’s my motto.’ Imogen gave them both a little finger wave. ‘Now, you must excuse me while I circulate.’
She swanned off around the room, leaving Timothy and Felicity to mingle. They didn’t stay long. It was less than an hour later that Jared spotted them walking out of the door, hand in hand.
Eighteen
The next few days passed in a haze of phone calls and writing features. It was halfway through Wednesday morning when Cassie realised that her ‘Almost a Bride’ column was due that day. She decided to use some of the research she did the night before and write about choosing the flowers.
‘How are you getting on with your column?’ Owen was standing beside her.
She turned around. ‘Just about to start it. It’s flowers this week.’
‘Don’t forget to bring that photographer into it. The readers are clamouring for him.’
Cassie gritted her teeth. She wished she’d never started this. What had Jared – sorry, Blake – got to do with choosing the wedding flowers?
She spun back around to the computer and opened the file. As soon as her fingers hit the keyboard, it was as if her thoughts took over and she found herself writing how Timothy – sorry, Ian – had even suggested that Blake take photos of their honeymoon. It was as if the words wrote themselves. She read the column back when she’d finished and was amazed at what she’d written.
Almost a Bride
You’ll never guess what’s happened this week. I can hardly believe it myself. You’ll never guess what Ian suggested AGAIN this week – that Blake accompanies us on our honeymoon to take some professional shots of us walking hand in hand along the beach, gazing at each other under the moon, etc, etc. Which, OK, yes, is a lovely thought but not when the photographer is my ex. How can I get all smoochy and romantic with Ian when Blake is recording every moment? Well, not every moment but you get the picture.
Andrea said that if I no longer have feelings for Blake then it shouldn’t matter. I guess she’s right. I should flaunt my happiness, let him see how much in love Blake and I are, and what a wonderful wedding and honeymoon we’re having. Show him I don’t care.