‘And the dress was a definite hit, so that should please your mum.’
‘She’s nothing if not talented with a needle. I’ll give her that.’ Jane’s dress was indeed phenomenal. A confection of white satin, it was a copy of Marilyn Munroe’s iconic halter dress from Seven Year Itch that billowed over a New York subway grate. It had been elevated to wedding dress status by the addition of Swarovski crystals beaded heavily across the fitted bodice, and a filmy, frothy, tulle overlay on the skirt.
As she’d walked down the makeshift aisle, the guests had sighed at the beauty of it all and Chloe had noticed the satisfied coy smile the bride wore as she’d made her vows.
‘Any more business happened yet? People begging you to plan their nuptials? Your diary is brimming with events? Bar Mitzvahs, christenings, Halloweens?’ He lowered his voice so she had to crane in to hear. ‘D.I.V.O.R.C.Es?’
‘Hush that mouth, Vaughn Brooks. Never mention that word in my presence again. At least, not at a wedding.’ She pointed to the empty space around them; everyone else was joining in a conga dance. They were having a good time and that, at least, was down to her planning and DJ recommendations. She was good at this. ‘Can’t you see the queue of clients forming around the block?’
‘It will happen, give it time.’ Vaughn gave her an encouraging smile that warmed her through. With his infectious positivity, she could start to believe that things really would happen. And a little nugget of self-belief was there too, glowing timidly in the centre of her chest. Yes, she could do this.
‘I hope so. I’ve taken every opportunity to let people know I’m available. My business cards are everywhere, and my website is printed on everything. I almost thought about having it tattooed on my forehead… too much?’
‘Let me see…’ He laughed and reached out to her side-swept fringe, tugging it gently up to reveal her forehead. Such an intimate gesture that it had her stomach twirling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason standing at the bar watching her with a strange look on his face. Her heart picked up its rhythm, and she focused back on Vaughn and his touch. All too soon, he dropped his hand, and she wanted to grab it, just to feel his heat under her fingertips. He was still laughing, and she liked that, even though he hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone, he’d sought her out and was giving her his full attention. ‘A tattoo would be just a little over the top, I think. Business cards and word of mouth will do just fine. Maybe draw up some flyers? Take some photos of this wedding if you’re going to go down the weird and wonderful route.’
‘Jane said she’d write me a testimonial about how smoothly everything’s gone and that I can use a couple of her official wedding photos when she gets them. Although, I’ve already taken a few on my phone.’ For something to do with her hands, she lifted out her phone and showed him. He seemed genuinely interested and talked about composition, layout and the rule of thirds in photography. Once again, she started to relax with him. It was nice having someone to talk these things through with. Jenna and her mum were invested in getting things done, but they weren’t interested in spreadsheets and marketing budgets and branding.
Vaughn nodded as she scrolled through her photos of the flowers and close-ups of some exquisite detailing on the dress. ‘You need more photos of the venue and the tables if you’re going to sell yourself as a general party planner and not just weddings. Do close-ups of the quirky things, like the place cards because they will highlight your attention to detail. But steady as you go, it won’t happen overnight.’
‘Such a shame, because I could really do with overnight success, believe me. I never was very good at that patience malarkey.’
‘No, I’ve already had the brunt of that particular personality trait.’ He rubbed his head and winked. ‘Have you discussed things with your family yet?’
‘Do not talk to me about families.’ She couldn’t help but laugh, remembering picking up Jenna and the flowers this morning, and their mum not even coming downstairs to talk. Or the lack of response to Chloe knocking on the bedroom door and calling through to get well soon, Mum. I love you. Or the blackcurrant jam stain, from Evie, down her favourite cream Zara trousers. And the way Jenna kept looking at Chloe as if everything was her fault. Talking about the business was way down on her list. Survival was at the top.
Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why not? Trouble?’
‘Where to start? If my mum taking to her bed and refusing to budge for three whole days is what you might loosely describe as trouble, then yes. Trouble it is.’
He looked as if he regretted asking that first question, never mind the second. Or third. ‘Is she sick?’
‘No. Yes. I don’t know. She’s been hiding a secret for twenty odd years, and we all found out about it the other night… about my dad. Turns out, he didn’t die. Well, he did, but he didn’t die immediately. She kicked him out. And then he died.’
There was a deep furrow above Vaughn’s eyes as he tried to keep up. ‘He died because she kicked him out?’
‘No.’
He held his hands up. ‘So whoa, I am way out of my depth here. It sounds very complicated.’
‘It is. She wanted to protect us because we were little, but the lie sort of grew and then she didn’t feel like she could tell us the truth. Anyhoo, it means that we don’t have a Cassidy curse after all. She was just making it all up. I think. I’m not sure about the last bit, to be honest. But it means that she wasn’t really a widow after all, although I don’t know if they ever got around to getting a divorce either. And now Jenna’s cross with her too, which never happens. Jenna’s the favourite.’
She hauled in a breath and was just about to explain about the book group night, but he jumped in. ‘Chloe, is anything straightforward with you?’
She looked over at Jason, still standing at the bar, then back at Vaughn. ‘No. I don’t think it is.’
Vaughn nodded slowly. ‘I thought not.’
‘Is that good or bad?’
‘Neither. I just think of it more as a warning.’ He grinned. ‘I’m not good at complications.’
‘I know, you said before. Is that a warning too?’
He thought about it for a moment then shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Right, then. We’re both well… er… warned. You don’t do complications or commitments. Noted. And my life is just crazy.’
‘Also noted.’ He smiled, and it was such a warm, soft smile. Then his hand brushed against hers, and she shivered with the biggest tingle rush she’d ever had. ‘Glad we got that out of the way.’
She felt way, way out of her depth. No, actually, she felt as if she wanted to throw caution to the wind and dive right into those non-committal arms and stay there. That was the trouble with warnings; they made you want to ignore them completely and test the dangerous waters for yourself.
She also wanted to deflect attention away from her and this, because she’d already spoken far too much and he was looking at her with a kind of pity that was muted by a sad smile that said he felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to talk about herself anymore, but how to broach the next subject?
In the end, she channelled Jenna and went for honesty being the best policy. She moved her hand away. ‘Look, Vaughn, I saw the review.’
‘Ah. Yes. That.’ His eyebrows rose and he gave a sort of shrug that she figured was supposed to indicate that he didn’t give a toss about the review, but it was clear from the fall in his mouth and the faded light in his eyes that he did care. A lot. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was also a little embarrassed as he looked down at his empty glass. ‘You want another drink?’
She reached for his arm and gave it a little squeeze that she tried to turn into a gentle, friendly punch, in case she gave him the wrong idea. ‘It is okay to talk about these things, you know.’
He frowned. ‘Yes, I was going to. I just need something to help smooth things over first. Just to bolster my ego, you know.’
‘Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll just finish this; then
you can get me another chardonnay.’
‘No hurry. I can wait all week to talk about a very average review.’ He was going to talk to her about how he felt. And he didn’t seem scared about the prospect or worried. It was the most masculine thing she’d ever heard.
She glanced away and noticed that the catering guy was gesticulating at her from across the room. He was making a sawing motion with his hand, which she deduced was about the cutting of the wedding cake. Perfect bloody timing, mate. Although, to be fair, she already had plenty of reasons to leave Vaughn well alone.
One of them was still staring at her from the bar; Jason’s face was screwed up tight and even from this distance she could see he was not happy at all. In fact, she could feel the pinpoints of daggers at her heart the more he stared. Probably, because she was talking to his cousin. Or the simple fact she was here at all, making his new Chloe-less life just that little bit more difficult.
When he saw her looking over, Jason raised his eyebrows, making sure eye contact was made.
She looked away quickly.
‘Oh. Sorry, Vaughn, but… I… actually… I need to go. I think I’m needed for the cake cutting.’
Vaughn followed her gaze over to Jason, then back. He nodded and frowned. ‘It seems like I’m always trying to convince you to have a drink, Chloe. Don’t have one on my account. It’s fine.’
She looked at the catering guy who was still gesticulating, then at Jason, who was still frowning, then at Vaughn, who was starting to walk away. No man for months then three all wanting her attention at the same time. Typical. ‘No. No, it’s not that. I will. I’d love a drink, thank you. Once I’ve sorted out the cake cutting.’ She held her empty glass out to him. ‘Chardonnay please, and line them up.’
‘If you insist.’
And with that, man number one turned away. She watched him walk towards the bar, breathing a silent sigh that Jason had seemingly disappeared. Now, for the cake cutting and man number two, who was the one with the sharp knives, so she should probably have made him man number one.
She stood up, turned to head to the kitchen area out back and smacked hard into… man number three. ‘Oh. Jason.’
Damn.
‘Chloe. Hi.’ It came out as a slur, more like Chloeeehi. Too much wine, knowing Jason. He was like that, guzzling the free booze as if there was a prize for whoever drank the most and he was determined to win it.
He was very close and, what? Leaning in?
No!
That thin mouth puckered tight, and pale blue eyes closed as he swayed towards her. Closer and closer he came. She could smell his aftershave, the same one he’d worn for the last ten years, and the memories rolled through her. She’d loved him and offered him her heart, and for a good few years, they’d been happy.
Then he’d run off with her friend. At their wedding.
Closer and closer still. The mole just above his upper lip was in perfect focus.
Yes, he was going to kiss her cheek. She could feel a collective intake of breath and the eyes of every single guest watching. Including Vaughn.
But she couldn’t make a scene, or walk away in case he made one. She had to just stand there and find a smile and allow him to do this one act of cringe-worthy, anger-inducing faux-friendliness.
Yes, her lumbering ex was going to kiss her right here in front of everyone, and she was going to have to take it, literally, on the cheek. Shame and humiliation mingled with the rush of memories of what they’d had. And what he’d taken away.
Double damn. From somewhere deeper than she ever thought possible, she found a smile and offered her cheek, freezing at the contact, wondering how she could have loved that face so much.
‘Hi, Jason, lovely to see you. You’re looking great today. Very smart.’ But heck, she wanted to stamp her feet and shout What the hell were you thinking? How bloody could you?
But she couldn’t because she had a ridiculous need to be nice, which should have stemmed from a desire to prove to him and everyone else that she could rise above the humiliation and be civil. Or it should have come from a desire not to cause a scene and jeopardise the wedding and subsequently any knock-on business.
It didn’t.
Mortifyingly, it came from a deep-seated need to endear herself to him. Because that was who she was. She was the girl who men ran away from. The one not worth hanging around for. The one they couldn’t even look in the eye and say I’m sorry for hurting you.
She realised with a hard lump in her throat that she really was that girl. The one who had an entrenched need to be nice to everyone, because that way they might like her enough to stay around.
CHAPTER 11
‘CHLOOOEEEE…’ It was said through a smile that was at once possessive and disarming. ‘What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you have gone home by now?’
Oh, and passive-aggressive, another of Jason’s many stellar talents. She kept her voice steady and polite, even if he didn’t deserve it, the bride and groom did. ‘I have to stay to the end, you know that. Why? Is there a problem?’
‘Amy’s embarrassed, and she asked me to talk to you, although God knows why. I said you’d be cool with it.’ His eyes darted over to the table where Amy was sitting, watching them, looking glum. She wasn’t sure, but Chloe couldn’t detect an ounce of real compassion in Jason’s face, for either of them.
‘Cool with what, exactly?’ She lowered her voice and turned him away from the rest of the crowd, and the need to be nice to him started to wither in direct proportion to her rising anger. ‘The two-timing? The betrayal? The Jilting? Going on our honeymoon without me? Leaving me financially ruined?’
He leant in. ‘With us being here. You know… me and her, together. And you. It’s not awkward, right? She thinks it is.’
It hadn’t been, Chloe had managed to navigate through it quite successfully using stealth tactics the British Army would be proud of, but it certainly was difficult now. She cringed. ‘Me? Feeling awkward? No! Not at all. I’m fine. This is work to me, Jason, that’s all.’
‘Work, work, work. That’d be right. Because that’s all that matters to you, isn’t it?’ He was swaying again and seemed to be having trouble controlling the volume switch on his voice. Amongst the long list of other things, Chloe’s commitment to her work had irritated Jason. ‘Weddings and flowers and dresses. Blah, blah.’
‘I need to make a living like everyone else,’ she managed not to hiss, then tried to find some control for herself. God, he could be odious when he was drunk. And his profile on that website kept flashing in front of her eyes. Searching4U. Maybe he’d taken it down now? Maybe he’d committed to Amy 100 per cent. ‘How’s things? With you and Amy?’
‘Depends on who you ask.’ His jaw lifted, defensively. Yes, that was it—he was feeling all the awkwardness and was trying hard to be defensive and manly about it.
‘What do you mean?’
He didn’t meet her eyes; in fact, he stared at a spot somewhere in the far distance and for a fleeting second there was a hint of humanity in his eyes. He looked a little lost, out of his depth to the point where she almost felt a little sorry for him.
And that was the problem with Jason, he tried hard to be macho and heroic, but inside he was really just immature. He was all about the fun, and nothing about the responsibility. One day he’d grow up and be a decent citizen—he really would. He just hadn’t evolved that far yet. ‘Amy’s pregnant.’
‘Oh. Wow. Well, wow. A baby? Wow. That’s a surprise.’ It felt like a fierce stab to her heart. It was stupid to even think it, let alone feel it viscerally, but Chloe’s gut hurt as if her own child had been ripped away from her. It was no secret that she’d planned to have babies, a family. Jason hadn’t wanted one, at least not yet. Too young, he’d said, to be tied down to children. We should be having fun while we’re young. Wait. So she had. And waited. And waited. Until another woman had taken her place. That poor woman who didn’t know he was still searching for someone. ‘That’
s… well, that’s wonderful. Fabulous!’
‘Is it?’ His head snapped up to meet her eyes now. There was what she could only describe as fear in his gaze.
Chloe dropped the gushing exuberance; she didn’t feel it and clearly neither did he. ‘You’re not happy about it?’
‘We’re ecstatic. Can’t you tell? Delighted.’ His eyes flicked again to Amy, who was still nibbling her fingernails and looked as far from ecstatic as anyone could be about carrying Jason’s offspring. ‘Over the bloody moon.’
‘Well, it’s great news, and it’s happening whether you’re ecstatic or not. Congratulations to you both.’ Her voice seemed to echo a little, and it took Chloe a moment to realise that the DJ had stopped the music, and people were starting to gather near the cake, although their eyes were on Jason. And her. And she felt the creep of more humiliation steal through her veins, through her limbs. ‘Look after her, Jason. Treat her well.’
‘And what do you care?’ Now his voice was really loud. ‘I mean, really, Chloe? Why the hell does it matter to you?’
‘I guess you and Amy don’t matter to me. But a baby matters, a real human being that you’re going to have to take care of. And obviously it matters to Amy, so it should be bloody important to you.’ So he needed to grow up and stop acting like a hormone-fuelled teenager who couldn’t own up to his responsibilities. Of course, she’d only realised this in the last three months. Before that, she’d been buoyed by his youthful outlook and enchanted by his enthusiasm to have fun.
From the corner of her eye, Chloe saw Vaughn take a step towards them carrying two glasses of white wine. She shook her head minutely to stop him. This was between her and her ex, any other contributors would start making way more of it than it was. She could handle it, smooth things over and stop it being such a big deal. At least, outwardly, anyway. Inwardly, her stomach twisted tight, and there was a lump in her throat.
A baby.
She focused on Jason. ‘Please give my congratulations to Amy. You need to think about her and what she needs now.’
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