by Karen King
I still wish we had a different photographer though. Anyone but Blake.
The photos aren’t my only problem. Monster-in-law has been interfering again. She came around the other night and completely took over, insisting on helping us choose the menu and entertainment for the reception – I just about stopped her from booking a violinist!
She’s trying to take over it all. She wanted to arrange the wedding cake and flowers too, but I politely insisted I did it myself, and thankfully Ian backed me up.
Andrea came around last night and we had a fun evening looking for bridal flowers on the internet – while we tucked into wine and chocolate. I had to hide the evidence before Ian came home and gave me a lecture. Honestly, monster-in-law has got him almost as obsessed with my weight as she is. To be honest, my trousers felt a bit tight around my waist this morning, not surprising after the binge last night, and I was too scared to weigh myself. It’s fine. I don’t have another dress fitting for a couple of weeks, I can easily slim down.
Anyway, here’s a few of the bouquets we liked. Which one do you think is best?
She’d put pictures of three bouquets at the bottom of the article. She read it again and shook her head. Owen wouldn’t be satisfied with that. He’d want the readers to choose whether she should tackle Timothy about Blake taking photos of their honeymoon. She bit her lip. She’d started writing about all this, she couldn’t back out now.
She switched it around so that she started with monster-in-law interfering again, and moved the first paragraph after that. Then she ended with I still wish we had a different photographer though. Anyone but Blake.
The three options were: should she tell Ian she doesn’t want Blake to accompany them on honeymoon, have a word with Blake herself and ask him to back out, or decide to rub Blake’s nose in it and show him how happy she was?
She nodded. Yes, Owen would go for that. It was amazing how easy it was to write about such personal stuff. She thought of some of the popular columns in the dailies and how the writers often wrote about their own family. She’d been amused at some of the incidents and had never really thought of it as a betrayal, but she was sure Timothy would.
Well, he’d never find out. She only had four more columns to write, then it would be all over.
‘Fabulous news, darling.’ Savannah floated into the restaurant on a cloud of very expensive perfume, bent over just low enough so that Jared could see her pert breasts down the top of her designer dress, and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’m off to France for a photoshoot next week and we’re a photographer short so I’ve recommended you. Do say you can come. It will be so divine.’
Before Jared could rise from his seat, the waiter dashed over to pull her chair out and she sat down opposite him. She reached across the table to place her hand on his, smiling winningly. ‘Sorry I’m late, darling, but I don’t get to look this good without putting in a bit of an effort.’
She did look good. Stunning, in fact. ‘No worries, I haven’t been here long myself.’ Liar; he’d been here over half an hour. ‘What’s this about France?’ he asked. ‘You’ve only just got back from Cape Verde.’
‘It’s a two-day photoshoot on the river for Mademoiselle magazine,’ she explained. ‘One of the photographers is ill, so I thought you might like to do it. It’ll give us chance to spend some time together. What do you think? Are you free? Oh, do say you are!’
He was free. He had next weekend off. He was thinking of using it to drive to the country and take some wildlife photos. He’d had enough of taking celebrity and wedding shots and wanted to get back to what he liked taking photos of most: animals. He thought about Savannah’s suggestion. While taking shots of Savannah parading around in different outfits wasn’t the way he’d planned to spend the weekend, the Dordogne was a beautiful region and he might get some lovely nature shots there. Plus he’d get paid in the process, so more money for his Arctic fund. It was worth doing.
‘When do we go?’
‘Friday night and back Monday afternoon. Can you make it?’
He could. He wasn’t due in work again until the Tuesday, and Savannah seemed eager for his company. It could be just what he needed to wipe Cassie from his mind. He’d hardly been able to think of anything but that kiss. The feel of her lips against his, the shiver that had coursed through his body when she’d responded, the overwhelming urge he’d felt to make love to her …
‘Jared?’
Savannah was staring at him, waiting for his reply. He shrugged. ‘Sure. Why not? Tell me the details.’
‘Would the lady like a drink, sir?’ Jared raised an eyebrow questioningly at Savannah who smiled and answered in her ‘little girl’ voice.
‘Mineral water, please.’
Of course, she’d be watching what she ate and drank if she was going on a photoshoot next week. A model’s life wasn’t as glamorous as most people thought. In fact, it was pretty boring. A restricted diet, early nights, constant worry about looks, weight, protecting their skin from the wind, and the sun. The money they earned was fantastic but what a price they had to pay. All the successful models he knew had been highly stressed and neurotic, beautiful to look at but far from easy company. Not like Cassie. She was beautiful and fun to be with.
Here he was again, thinking of her. Yes, he definitely needed to go away for a while.
Over a meal of chicken salad for Savannah and steak for him, they discussed the French trip. Savannah had no idea of the fee, but Jared was confident it would be a substantial one. She handed him a business card and told him to phone the number on it tomorrow. ‘Madeleine is waiting for your call. I told her that I was pretty sure you’d be interested, but phone her before ten or she’ll give the job to someone else.’
‘OK.’ He slipped the card into his wallet. ‘Now, what do you fancy doing for the rest of the evening?’
Savannah leant forward so the neck of her dress once again revealed her bare breasts. ‘How about we go back to yours?’
‘Sounds good to me.’ He beckoned the waiter over for the bill. It looked like this was one night he wouldn’t be lying awake thinking of Cassie.
Nineteen
‘I must say, I wish we’d had a bit longer to plan this wedding. Everything is such a rush.’ Cassie stepped into the long, royal blue dress she’d worn for their engagement meal. ‘I mean, it was very kind of Sylvia to save the cancellation at the castle for us, but …’
‘Yes, two months isn’t long to plan a wedding.’ Timothy buttoned up the crisp white shirt he’d worn that night and selected the royal blue tie that had accompanied it. He always liked to wear a tie that matched the colour of Cassie’s dress. ‘It was too good an opportunity to miss though, Cassandra.’
‘I know.’
He came over and zipped up the back of her dress. ‘You’re not worrying about it all, are you?’
Cassie sat on the chair facing her dressing table mirror and opened her black velvet jewellery case. ‘I am a bit,’ she admitted as she took out a pair of sapphire and diamond studs. ‘When we only got engaged on Valentine’s Day, I thought we’d probably get married next year.’
‘We can do it. It will take some organisation, of course, but Mother is very good at that, as you well know. Don’t be reluctant to ask her to help. She’d be delighted.’
And completely take over.
He leant over and kissed the nape of her neck. ‘Didn’t you wear the diamond droplet earrings that night?’ he asked.
He was right. ‘Yes, of course. I forgot.’ She put the studs back in the jewellery box and selected the diamond droplets.
‘Forgot what you wore on such a special night? Really, darling.’ Timothy’s voice dripped with disapproval. She hated it when he spoke to her like that. It reminded her of Sylvia.
‘A momentary lapse; my mind was on other things.’ She took the gold back off the earring, slipped it into her right ear, and secured it. She selected the other earring and did the same with her left ear. Then she took out the
matching diamond drop necklace – all Christmas presents from Timothy. ‘Would you fasten this for me, please?’
‘Do hurry, dear. We have to be at Alberto’s in half an hour and you’re nowhere near ready yet.’ She could see the irritation on Timothy’s face reflected in her dressing table mirror as he fastened the necklace. ‘You wore your hair in a chignon, remember? That will take you a while to do.’
So she had. She was hoping he’d forgotten, so she could wear her hair down, that way she’d only need to give it a quick brush. ‘Yes, I do. It won’t take me long.’
Twenty-five minutes and a couple of attempts later her hair was finally secured up in a chignon. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why it wouldn’t go right today,’ she mumbled. Although she did know why. It was because Timothy was watching her, getting more and more impatient by the minute.
‘The taxi’s here. Are you ready?’ Timothy glanced impatiently at his watch. Again.
‘One sec.’ Cassie grabbed her bag and white fur stole. ‘Ready.’
She followed him to the door, hoping that Jared would be late. It would annoy Timothy if Jared arrived before he had time to set the scene exactly as he wanted.
He wasn’t looking forward to this. It was weird seeing Cassie and Timothy together, and photographing their ‘mock engagement’ wasn’t high on his list of fun things to do. That’s why he’d agreed when Savannah had asked him to drop into the launch party for Midas Designs this evening, an event he’d usually run a mile from, as he found a lot of people in the fashion world to be self-obsessed and superficial. Tonight though, he’d be glad of having somewhere to go after the engagement shoot; to have something take his mind off seeing Cassie all loved-up with Timothy.
They had just seated themselves at the table when Jared arrived, camera slung over his shoulder, looking roguishly handsome in a dashing light grey suit and pale blue shirt. The same blue as her bridesmaids’ dresses, Cassie realised. It had been both their favourite colour, she remembered. She’d worn a dress that colour on their first date, at the local coffee shop, and Jared had turned up in a matching jumper. They’d both giggled and immediately felt at ease with each other. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. That she’d chosen her and Jared’s favourite colour for her wedding theme. What did that say about her?
What did it matter, it was only a colour.
‘Hi. I was hoping you’d both be on time. I’ve a launch to go to after this.’ Jared took his camera out of the case. ‘I’ll take a selection, shall I, then you can take your pick? Shall we start with recreating the proposal?’
‘Sorry?’ Cassie stared at him, bewildered. Was he serious? She’d thought Jared was going to take a couple of shots of them having a champagne toast, the table laid for the meal, perhaps, maybe exchanging a kiss. Not this.
‘Mother suggested it and I agreed, it’s a splendid idea.’ Timothy slipped his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the red velvet box that Cassie’s engagement ring had been in. He placed it on the table in front of her. ‘Take your ring off, Cassandra, and place it in the box for a few moments, will you?’
She was stunned. Timothy and Sylvia had once again planned things between them without bothering to consult her. I can’t do this. I can’t have Timothy kneeling in front of me, proposing to me, with Jared watching and photographing it. That’s seriously weird.
Even as the words whirled through her mind she was taking off her ring and placing it in the box. Then Timothy was down on one knee, holding out the ring, and Jared was flashing away. She could feel his eyes on her but she couldn’t look at him.
‘That’s great, Hold it there. Let’s see a smile, Cassie. This is a big moment for you. One of the happiest days of your life.’
She couldn’t figure out if he was teasing her or being serious. She forced her red lipsticked lips into a big smile as she looked down at Timothy on one knee in front of her, hand outstretched holding the open box. The diamond sparkled in the flashlight of Jared’s camera, but she barely noticed it. All she could think of was how horrified she’d felt the night Timothy had proposed, how trapped she’d felt into saying yes. Right now, she felt just as trapped.
‘OK, Cassie. Hold your hand out so Timothy can slip the ring on your finger.’
She couldn’t look at Jared; couldn’t meet his eyes. She kept her gaze on Timothy, smiled at him, as she obliged. Then he was slipping the ring on her finger and kissing her and Jared was still snapping away.
How was she going to bear Jared photographing their wedding if she couldn’t even stand this?
‘That’s great. Wonderful. Now how about a final shot of you both having a celebratory drink of champagne? That should wind it up nicely.’
The waiter opened the champagne, poured it into the glasses, they clinked glass in a toast to each other, then entwined wrists and sipped out of the glasses. It was exactly what they’d done on the night they got engaged. Except Jared was filming her and she couldn’t stop thinking about her other engagement, hers and Jared’s, when Jared had driven them to their favourite spot in the country, prepared a picnic hamper, and proposed to her in a field where there were only a few cows to witness it. He’d given her a ring with a tiny diamond in it that had taken up months of his part-time wages in the local café. They’d agreed they were too young to get married yet, but their engagement was a symbol of their love and commitment to each other. She was twenty. Two years later they split up.
That had to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Cassie looked stunning and couldn’t take her eyes off Timothy the twat all evening. It was obvious she loved him. Or loved the lifestyle he could give her. As soon as the thought slid into his mind he shoved it away. Cassie wasn’t that mercenary. No, she loved Timothy, that had been clear tonight. She’d had such a dreamy look on her face as he slipped the ring on her finger and her smile had almost stretched from ear to ear.
That kiss she had shared with Jared, the one that had taken them both by surprise, had meant nothing to her. Her body had merely reacted to him as if out of habit, and he’d assumed it meant she still had feelings for him. Tonight had shown him quite clearly that she hadn’t. Cassie had moved on, and so had he. It was time he stopped taking a nostalgic trip down memory lane.
‘I’ll work on the photos and send them over to you sometime tomorrow,’ he said as he put his camera in the case. ‘Would you like me to email them over to you, then you can make your selection and email them back?’
Cassie looked relieved. He guessed she didn’t want to spend time with him any more than he did with her. ‘That will be perfect.’ She tilted her face enquiringly towards Timothy, ‘Would you like Ja – J.M. to email them to me or you?’
She almost slipped his name out then, which would have been awkward. Timothy didn’t seem to notice.
‘Best to give him your email address, my inbox is full enough as it is,’ he replied. ‘We can have a look at them together over the weekend.’
Cassie opened her bag and took out a business card. ‘You can send them to my work email. I can access it at home,’ she said, handing it to him.
‘Thanks.’ He slipped the card into his pocket then held out his hand first to Timothy and then to Cassie, taking care that he only shook hers lightly, that he didn’t meet her gaze. He smiled at them both. ‘I must dash now, the launch started half an hour ago and my girlfriend is expecting me.’ He actually didn’t class Savannah as his girlfriend but he wanted Cassie to know that he’d moved on, too. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening.’
He was glad of an excuse to get away. A night with Savannah and her media friends would take his mind off Cassie.
Twenty
The photographs had turned out lovely. Cassie had always been photogenic, but she looked absolutely stunning in these photos, Jared thought as he flicked through them all on the computer screen. He paused on a photo showing Cassie looking down at Timothy, who was on bended knee, holding out the ring and gazing up at her. She had a strange expression on her face. H
e enlarged the picture – she looked almost panicked. Perhaps it was because he was there. Was she afraid he would slip up, let Timothy know of their shared past?
He flicked through the other photos. She was smiling in them all, her eyes sparkling. He enlarged another shot, one of Timothy tenderly holding up Cassie’s hand to show off the sparkling diamond on her finger. Cassie was looking down at him, a smile dancing on her lips, her eyes sparkling almost as much as the diamond ring. She obviously loved him. They looked so happy together. He should be pleased for her. He was pleased for her. She deserved happiness after the way he’d broken her heart.
He selected the best shots, enlarged them, and worked on them a bit, then took the business card Cassie had given him out of his pocket. Cassie Tyler, Features Writer, it said, with the name of the newspaper underneath, then her email address and the phone number of the newspaper offices. By giving him this, rather than her personal email, she was telling him that she wanted to keep things strictly business-like. That suited him just fine.
On a new email he typed in her email address and then ‘Engagement Photos’ in the subject bar. It seemed strange to be emailing her again after all these years. Best to play safe and address it to both her and Timothy, he decided, composing a brief email to say that he was attaching a selection of the photos for them to choose whatever they required, and email back the details to him. He signed it ‘Best wishes, J.M.’ and pressed send.
He wondered whether they would choose them together or if Cassie wouldn’t be able to resist a sneak peek. The Cassie he knew wouldn’t have. She’d have opened the file, had a good look, and carefully chosen the ones she thought were best beforehand. He’d lay a bet she’d do the same now, but she needn’t worry: she looked good in all of them. She was a natural beauty, one of those women who looked just as good first thing in the morning when she’d just woken up as she did when she was all dressed up to go out. He’d always preferred the ‘just woken up’ Cassie, with the tousled hair and sleepy eyes, all warm and cuddly as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a ‘Good morning, I love you’ kiss. He’d pull her close and they’d kiss, softly at first, then hungrier, skin touching skin – neither of them ever wore pyjamas. He wondered if she did now – hands caressing, their passion rising until they couldn’t control it. The memories of the intensity of their lovemaking still had the same reaction as they always had. He shook his head and stood up. He needed a coffee. A black coffee. And if he kept thinking about Cassie that way he’d be in need of a cold shower.