He frowned. ‘There’s a conference on Monday at the Newbridge Auditorium. It’s for businesses but there are always lots of caterers in attendance, trying to tout for business at events.’
She lifted her head just a little from the table. He could only see one eye beneath the long locks. ‘Catering for a business event isn’t even in the same league as catering for a wedding.’
He arched his eyebrow at her. ‘You’d be surprised. Some of these events have cordon bleu chefs. Again—numbers might be an issue. And you’ll need to have some idea of a menu. Do you know what they like?’
‘That’s easy. Mum likes chicken and Dad will want steak with all the trimmings. But it has to taste just right.’
‘Like mother, like daughter?’
She straightened in her chair. ‘Yeah, I guess so. Though in most things I’m most like my dad.’ She picked up a pencil. ‘Dessert will need to be something chocolate for Mum—usually with orange—and anything with strawberries or raspberries for Dad.’
She screwed up her nose as she studied the list. ‘Balloons, seat covers, wedding gifts, evening favours, wedding cake, hors d’oeuvres, and a bar.’ Her head thumped back on the table. ‘I can’t do all this!’
Will reached over and grabbed her hand, this time propelling her from her chair and pulling her towards him. She barely had time to think about it before he plunked her down on his knee and wrapped his arm around her waist. ‘I’m helping you. That’s what the deal is. By Monday night we will have a caterer. By Tuesday we’ll have sorted the chair covers, balloons and favours. If you pay enough you can pretty much get what you want.’
He stood up and turned her around in his arms, reaching up to touch her cheek, trying not to drink in the feel of her. ‘Rose, stop worrying. I’ve already told you—the biggest things are sorted.’ Her hands had moved automatically to his waist, her fingers gently pressing through his shirt. He wanted them to move. He wanted to feel them stroke across the expanse of his back and shoulders. He wanted to feel them running up the planes of his chest and wrap around his neck. If they could just move a little closer...
She was staring up at him with those big blue eyes. It made his breath catch in his throat. She’d never looked so beautiful. And for a second he was sure she was looking at him exactly the way that he was looking at her.
But then she blinked. And it was as if something had just flicked on in her brain. ‘Yes, because you know all about this stuff, don’t you?’ Her hands fell from his sides and she took a step back.
What had just happened?
He gave himself an internal shake. ‘Okay. Sit down. I’ll go and get some of Judy’s pavlova for us and some coffee. Then you can tell me all about your PR ideas for my homeless charity. Fair’s fair.’
He picked up the plates and gave her a smile as he headed back inside. It only took a few minutes to be out of her sight and he stopped and pressed his head against the cool corridor wall. What was he thinking?
He was going to have to put a No Touching sign on her head.
Because if he didn’t—he’d get himself into a whole load of trouble.
* * *
The pavlova looked magnificent, with lots of layers of gooey meringue, lashings of fresh cream and oodles of strawberries, raspberries and kiwi fruit. A girl might think she was in heaven. That, followed by the smell of rich coffee, was making her already full stomach think it might have to squeeze a little more inside.
She was ready. She was prepared. She’d taken the few moments of Will’s absence to gather herself. A quick dash to the bathroom and a splash of water on her face and wrists had cooled her down. Technically speaking. It hadn’t stopped that crazy irregular pattern inside her chest that she was trying to ignore.
Now, she was in control. And Will was back to his amiable, joking self. No more hot looks of what might be. No lingering glances or widening pupils.
‘So what’s the plan for PR?’
His voice sounded so calm, so laid-back. Now was the time to find out if he really was.
She savoured the last mouthful of pavlova and set down her fork. Her words were simple and she said them as if they were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘The plan, Will—is you.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘What?’
She waved her hand. ‘I didn’t know you were associated with that homeless charity until you told me. And then I asked myself why. Because you’ve had more than enough media coverage in your time.’
He gave a shake of his head. ‘But that was all the wedding stuff. It was all personal. It doesn’t really count.’
She shook her head and leaned towards him. He really didn’t get it. ‘But that’s just it, Will. You’re the story. You’re the person people want to read about. People love you. Your reputation as the Runaway Groom precedes you and it’s time to use it to your advantage.’
The frown seemed to be spreading across his face. ‘No. I don’t agree. I hate all that stuff. How on earth can being known as the Runaway Groom help a homeless charity?’
She took a deep breath. It was obvious he was going to take some persuading. ‘You’ve seen all the TV shows with phone-in voting?’
He nodded warily. ‘Yes, all the wannabe pop-star stuff?’
‘Exactly. They often have the same things in newspapers. Vote for your favourite TV soap star. Vote for your favourite model.’
He was nodding slowly. ‘I still don’t get it. What does that have to do with me?’
She gave him her best PR smile. ‘We’re going to do something similar with you.’
He was shaking his head again. ‘Why on earth would anyone vote for me?’
Rose sucked in a deep breath and talked quickly. ‘People love the fact you were the Runaway Groom. Imagine we had a number of trials or dares for you to do. All hideous. All things that people would cringe at. We can ask the public to vote on which of them you should do for the homeless charity—earning money and raising awareness along the way.’
‘But why on earth would people be interested in that?’
This was it. This was when she finally revealed her master stroke.
‘Because there’ll be four separate possibilities. All set by each of your jilted brides.’
‘What?’
Rose jumped in quickly before he had too much time to think about it. ‘Just think about it. I bet some of them still want revenge on you. They’ll probably take great pleasure in making a hideous suggestion for a dare. And I can spin it. From what you’ve told me, each one of your brides-to-be were interested in being in the media. If I pitch it to them as an opportunity to take a bit of revenge on you—plus the fact the money will be going to charity and you’ll have to do whatever the winning dare is—I’m sure they’ll take part. What’s more the press will eat it up.’
Will’s head had been shaking from the second she started speaking. His face wasn’t pale as if he were shocked—it was starting to go red as if she’d made him angry. ‘You have got to be joking. This? This is your plan?’
She shifted in her chair. ‘If you’ll just take a minute to consider it...’
He stood up sharply and his chair flew backwards. ‘Take a minute? Take a minute to consider humiliating myself in front of millions? Have people talk about me instead of the charity? I’d be a laughing stock.’
Rose stayed as cool as she could. She lifted her coffee cup and took a sip as if guys shouting at her happened every day. In New York it wasn’t that unusual and she was made of sterner stuff.
‘Yes, you would,’ she said simply. ‘But people would be interested to know why you were doing it. Why the world’s most eligible bachelor would put himself through it. That would lead them to the homeless charity.’
His fists were clenched and pressing down on the table. She could see the flicker of an angry tic in his jaw. But
after a few moments his breathing seemed to ease and the flush in his face died down. Rose sat quietly, sipping her coffee and looking out over the view.
This was the perfect solution to his PR problems. It had come to her earlier on and she’d known he wouldn’t like it. But if he was as committed to the charity as he claimed to be, he’d realise just how much this could work.
He glanced behind him and grimaced as he picked up the chair. After a few seconds he sat back down and put his head in his hands.
Patience. Men had to be left to think things through. In a few days Will Carter would probably be claiming the idea was his own. Or maybe not.
He lifted his head slightly, his deep blue eyes locking on hers. ‘You really think this could work?’
She nodded slowly. ‘I think it’s a darn sight better idea than dealing with El Creepo footballer. You know he’s a recipe for disaster.’
Will groaned and leaned back in the chair. ‘I know he is. But people like him. Even if he is a prat.’
She smiled at him. ‘No, Will. People like you.’ She let the words hang in the air for a second or two.
He was still looking sceptical. ‘Do you honestly think you could persuade my exes to take part?’
She bit her lip. ‘If I pitch it right they will be jumping all over this. There’s nothing like a woman scorned.’
He grimaced. ‘But I never wanted to hurt any of them. And this will just bring all those bad feelings to the surface again.’
‘And some of those bad feelings are exactly what we need. Those bad feelings will probably give us some spectacular dares that the public will be willing to pick up the phone and vote for.’
She hated that it sounded so mercenary. It wasn’t really Rose’s nature but the reality was, if Will really wanted publicity for his charity in a short space of time this was exactly the way to do it.
He started pacing. She could almost see his brain ticking over all the pros and cons.
‘I’m still worried. Two of my exes will probably be fine. They’ve moved on. They’ve got married. Both of them have told me they were glad things didn’t work out between us.’ He waved his hand and gave a rueful smile. ‘They know we just weren’t right for each other. And they’ve got their happy ever after with someone else.’ He frowned. ‘Another has got into the media spotlight. The extra publicity will probably suit her. Looking back, I’m sure that’s why she dated me in the first place. But the fourth? I just don’t know...’
‘Is this the one you actually left at the altar?’
He nodded and shook his head. ‘Melissa was fiancée number two. I still feel terrible. She didn’t take things well and she still hates me.’
‘Might this be a little redemption for her? A way to draw a line under things?’
‘I just don’t know.’ He pulled out his phone.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to talk to Violet.’
For the weirdest reason her heart plummeted. ‘You are?’ How ridiculous. Violet was his best friend. Of course he wanted to talk to her. It was only natural.
But it made her stomach curl up in the strangest way.
A way she’d never felt before.
She’d never once been jealous of her sister. They were close. They always supported each other. They’d never had a serious falling-out. Only the usual sisterly spats. But all of a sudden she was feeling strangely jealous of the relationship between Violet and Will. He trusted her. He valued her opinion. And it was almost as if he were second-guessing her advice.
The call lasted only a minute and there was nothing secret about it. She could hear Violet’s shrieks of laughter at the other end of the phone. ‘It’s perfect. The press will love it. I told you my sister was a genius!’
Guilt flooded through her, heat rushing to her cheeks. Violet always had her back, always—even in the worst of circumstances.
Will glanced at her, uncertainty still lacing his eyes. She held her tongue. There was nothing she could say at this point to persuade him. He had to think it through for himself. There was only one natural conclusion he could come to.
She stood up and held out her hand. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Will. I’m feeling tired. I think I’ll go to bed. I take it you’ve got no ill effects from your headache and I’ll be free to go home tomorrow?’
He stared at her outstretched hand for a few seconds. Maybe it was the strange formality between two people who’d kissed a little earlier? But he took a few steps and walked over and shook her hand.
Darn it. There it was again. The little shot straight up her arm, tingling all the way. No matter how many times she tried to ignore it, it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. His hand was warm and firm.
It was the first time she’d been around Will and he looked anything less than confident and sure of himself. Her suggestions for publicity had obviously unsettled him.
‘Thank you, Rose,’ he said distractedly.
She turned away to head back in the house. It was odd. The strangest feeling. She’d much preferred it when the atmosphere between them had been light and flirty. This horrible unsettled feeling was uncomfortable. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being around Will Carter was a lot more interesting than she’d first expected.
Her head told her one thing, and every female hormone in her body told her a whole other. It was exhausting.
But she was curious to see where it would take her.
‘Rose?’ She turned at the sound of his voice, her heart giving a little leap in her chest.
‘Remember Monday—the business conference. We’ll find you a caterer.’
‘Sure.’ She nodded, hoping to not let the disappointment show. ‘Thanks.’
She turned back and lengthened her strides back into the house.
Monday had never felt so far away.
CHAPTER FIVE
VIOLET AND ROSE waited impatiently on the chaise longue. Their mother was doing her usual—making them wait. ‘Do you have your phone to text Daisy?’ Violet asked.
‘No pictures,’ yelled their mother from the other room. ‘I don’t want there to be any possibility of a leak to the press.’
The girls rolled their eyes at each other. Sherry had already tried on eleven dresses from various designer friends ranging from barely there to tulle princess. None of them had really suited. ‘Has she given you any instructions on the flowers yet?’ Rose whispered.
Violet nodded. ‘And I’m sworn to secrecy. I’ve not to say a word.’
‘But you can tell me.’
Violet shook her head. ‘Not even you.’
Rose felt the indignation rise in her chest. ‘You’ve got to be joking. After everything that’s been dumped on me—you’re not allowed to tell me about the flowers?’
Violet shrugged. She was entirely used to their mother’s little quibbles and obviously didn’t think it was worth getting tied in a knot about.
She shot Rose a look. That kind of look. ‘So how’s things with you and my best friend?’
Rose could feel the hackles rise at the back of her neck. She was instantly on the defensive. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Have you kissed him yet?’
‘What? Why on earth did you ask me that?’
Violet counted off on her fingers. ‘Because he’s Will Carter. He’s charming. He’s lovable. And everyone loves him.’ She lifted her eyebrows. ‘And you two haven’t met before. And don’t think I didn’t notice the little buzz of chemistry yesterday. What’s going on?’
Rose was annoyed. ‘Chemistry? There was no chemistry. The guy climbed into my bed and I cracked him over the head with a vase. How is that chemistry?’
‘But you spent all day yesterday with him and you spent the night at his place.’
If only she knew that Rose had spent the whole night tossing and turning in the bed at Gideon Hall wondering—even for a second—if Will might appear. Useless thoughts. Ridiculous thoughts. And thoughts that had made her even angrier and made her feel even more foolish as the dark hours of night had turned into the early hours of morning.
‘Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. You know exactly why I had to stay there—because you wouldn’t help me.’
Violet gave a few tuts. ‘Wow. I think the girl protests too much,’ she joked. ‘Watch out. He’ll sucker you in.’
Rose sucked in a deep breath, ready to erupt at her sister but she didn’t get that far.
‘What about this one?’ Their mother’s voice cracked a little as they turned to face her.
Sherry Huntingdon had never lost her model figure or her mane of golden locks. She easily looked fifteen years younger than she actually was.
Rose gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Mum, that’s it. That’s the one. It’s perfect.’
Violet was on her feet, walking over to touch the ruched fabric scattered with tiny jewels. The dress was a showstopper. It hugged every curve of her frame, fitting like a glove in satin covered in tiny sparkling jewels with a huge fishtail.
‘You think?’ Yes, her voice was definitely breaking. It was all getting too much for her. It was the perfect dress for the perfect wedding.
‘I love it, Mum,’ said Rose with pride. Her mother had never looked quite so stunning as she did today.
‘Veil or no veil?’
‘No veil.’ Both girls spoke in unison, then turned to each other and laughed.
Their mum hesitated a second. ‘I’ve picked a dress for all three of you. You just need to pick a colour each.’ She held up a bright blue dress on a hanger. It had sheer shoulders, a fitted bodice with a jewel clasp gathered just under the breasts and a loose full-length skirt. ‘Do you think it will suit Daisy? I didn’t want to pick something that made her pregnancy so obvious.’
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