RUNAWAY GROOM
by
Sally Clements
Runaway Groom
By Sally Clements
Kindle Edition, Copyright © 2013 Sally Clements
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Cover by Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations
Editing by Cindy Davis
http://www.sallyclements.blogspot.com
Chapter One
This time, everything will be perfect.
April Leigh laid out swatches of slippery silk and gleaming duchess-satin on the smooth wooden worktop. The wedding dress sketch she’d worked on tirelessly over the past week was propped up on the wooden easel, and the rest of her collection had been tidied onto the hanging rails opposite the full-length windows that bled light into her studio space. Now all she needed was the bride.
She pushed back the sleeve of her heavy black sweater and checked her wafer-thin black watch. June should be here. Rising from her chair, she refilled her coffee cup and gazed from the window onto the bustling street below. The intercom buzzed.
“It’s me!”
“Come on up.” Warmth filled April at the thought of seeing her sister again. It had been too long.
She swung the door open wide, heart pounding as the elevator juddered to a halt. Her sister’s form was visible through the cage, and as April stepped forward, June slid the door sideways, compressing it into a metal lattice pleat.
“Hey, you.” Instantly they were in each other’s arms, June’s familiar feel and smell jerking April back in time. Even when she was a teenager June had never been too cool to shown affection for her younger sister. Her open and outgoing nature hadn’t ever been constrained or dented—by anything. She’d even risen above the event that would have crushed a lesser woman.
She was April’s hero.
Now, at last, she’d have her happy ever after. The fact she’d asked April to contribute to her special day was the cherry-on-top.
“Come on in.”
“Wow, this place is amazing.” June gazed around the huge room.
June still lived in Ireland. This was the first time she’d visited the new London apartment April had moved into once she left college.
“Well, it’s a lot better than the last place. The bedsit was so tiny I couldn’t actually have more than one person in it at a time, unless they wanted to stand on the coffee table. It’s close to work too.” April grinned. Her place of work, The Coffee Haven, was directly below her apartment. Working there was pretty much the perfect job—anything to do with coffee had to be a perfect job to a caffeine addict. When her boss, Elizabeth, had confided she was moving from the large open-plan studio apartment and moving to the suburbs, it felt as though the planets had aligned perfectly.
Elizabeth had been delighted to find a tenant she knew and trusted, and April’s boss had become her landlady.
“It’s mostly one big room, with a small bedroom and bathroom at the end.” April waved an arm around. “When Elizabeth lived here, she had more furniture, and this was the open-plan sitting room and kitchen. I shifted the sofa closer to the fireplace, and filled the rest of the space with my…”
June looked around. “Your work stuff.”
“Yes.” Everything had its place. A large table held her sewing machine. Her computer sat in the middle of the desk in the corner. Bolts of material were stacked on shelves. There was even a stand holding all of her threads, sequins and beads, carefully placed in the perfect position so she could grab them in a flash.
The apartment could do with some homey touches, some throws or rugs to soften the acres of wooden floor but those would come in time.
Right now, her meager funds were stretched to the limit paying the rent and keeping the lights on. All she needed was a place to work. And with its floor to ceiling expanse of glass letting in lots of natural light, this place was pretty darned perfect.
“You didn’t get lost on the tube?”
June grinned. “Not with these directions. That was the longest text I’ve ever seen in my life. Your fingertips must have melted.”
“I typed it a while ago. I have it saved in drafts.” The route to her apartment on the outskirts of London was a fairly direct one, with only a couple of changes of train on the underground, but to make it easy she’d written out step-by-step instructions to text to the terminally disorganized.
April eyed June’s bag. “What have you brought?”
“Pictures.” She put the bag on the coffee table. “More wedding magazines.”
The rails holding dresses caught June’s attention. “Wow, these are great, is this it?”
“Yup.” No-one had seen the new collection yet. Having her sister examine the designs for her very first fashion show set a flutter of butterflies loose in April’s stomach.
“All black?” June’s fingers flicked through the dresses.
“All black,” April confirmed. “But I’ve used a variety of different fabrics in each one.”
June pulled one of the dresses from the rack. “Oh, I see what you mean. This one is gorgeous. I love the way you’ve done the inlay at the front.” The black damask dress had a panel of sheer black sewn in which would reveal the wearer’s cleavage. “It’s tiny.” She held it up against her figure.
“All the designers are using the same models. They’re all slender and tall.”
“So when is the show, and can I come?”
“It’s on the 24th of March.” April squeezed her hands together into fists, then stretched her fingers out again. “I have the collection made, but I still have to decide on their hair, makeup and accessories.”
June patted her back. “You’ll be fine. You’re always so well organized. Look at you, you’ve already made all the dresses! How many designers are showing a collection?”
“There are four of us. I couldn’t believe it when they asked me to join them, the other three are all established, and I’ve only just qualified.”
“Your work is fantastic. I’m convinced you’re going to be a big star. This is just the beginning, next year you’ll be at London Fashion week, and in all the newspapers. I’m so proud of you, April. And just think—I’m going to be your very first bride!”
April swallowed. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Out with it, then.” June flicked back her long blonde hair.
“I wanted to ask you if you’d wear your wedding dress on the catwalk.” The image of June wearing a beautiful ivory wedding dress as the finale of April’s show had come to her in a dream. Having a totally black collection was edgy and unusual, and one perfect white wedding dress at the end would be a perfect counterpoint.
“I…” June’s eyes widened. “I’d love to!” She hugged April close, then pulled back. “But won’t I look huge? I’m no waif.”
“You’ll look beautiful.” Encased in a dress made for her, with her blonde long hair pinned up and accessorized with pearl clips, June would make the perfect bride. “Come and look at the design I’ve drawn for the dress.”
June had very specific ideas which April had worked into the design. The dress would be A-line, with a sweetheart neckline, and fitted with a natural waist. June’s shoulders were shapely, and she had a killer
cleavage, so they’d decided the dress should be strapless.
“I’ve added pearl detailing here on the bodice,” April explained, tracing the drawing with a finger. “And the choice of material will determine if the dress is very formal or floatier, we could attach an overlay in a different fabric if you want.”
She moved to the fabric samples on the table. “This is duchess-satin, which is very lush but also quite thick and stiff. If you want something with more movement, the heavy silk is good.”
June picked up the duchess satin. “I love this. It’s sexy, isn’t it?”
April nodded.
“The color though…” June frowned.
The samples were both ivory. “You could go with a creamier color, rather than the white, the pearls come in a variety of shades to match.”
June pulled a stack of wedding magazines from her bag. She flicked through one, then stabbed the page with a red-tipped finger. “I was thinking of maybe going with a color, rather than just white. What do you think?”
April blinked. The dresses in the pictures ranged in color from blood red through shades of mocha and coffee, to metallic shades of silver and bronze. She’d never, for one moment, considered that June might want a dress in anything other than virginal white. This wedding was such a miracle; a second chance at happy-ever-after all of them had feared might never happen. She’d thought June would want to do the whole traditional bride thing.
“What color were you thinking?”
“Well the red is a bit over the top, I’m pretty sure Michael’s family would have a complete fit.” She grinned. “The wedding is going to be all over the American society pages. It can’t help but be, with his father in politics. But I love the silver and grey dresses, don’t you?”
June was a woman of the world. The days of a bride wearing a white dress to telegraph her chastity were outdated, but the thought that June had been influenced by her past angered April. “Do you not want to wear white because of—you know…”
June’s lips pressed together. “Because of the last time I was going to be married?” She walked to the window and stared out. “I didn’t want to wear white then either. And seven years ago, wearing a colored dress would have been scandalous.” She turned back. “And I got to be scandalous before I’d even thought about dresses.”
April walked over and slung an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one to call it all off.”
“Yes, but I was the pregnant teenager, wasn’t I?” There was a trace of sadness in her smile. “For a while anyway.”
They hadn’t spoken of June’s previous engagement for years. She’d been barely eighteen when she became pregnant, and once the pregnancy was confirmed, her boyfriend Matthew Logan had proposed. When she’d miscarried in the first month, April had naively presumed they’d go ahead with the wedding anyway. Matthew was a constant visitor to the house, and had seemed devoted to June, even though they were both still at school.
Looking back, it was difficult to tell who was more shocked that he’d run.
“I’m so lucky to have Michael,” June murmured. “I love him more than I ever thought I could love someone.”
June had been wasted on a man who didn’t even have the decency to stick around. April squeezed her lips together. In the seven years since, June had made a new life for herself, and was even being so brave as to trust again. As for Matthew, who knew where he’d ended up?
June pointed at the page. “I like the grey and the silver ones. What do you think?”
The grey wedding dress was undoubtedly beautiful, but the silver… “I love the silver. You’ll look like a princess in silver.” A princess inside and out. April flicked open the brochure of pearls. “And we could use this shade of pearls as accents. I’ll get some samples of different fabrics in silver and grey this week. How long are you and Michael in London for?”
“His parents are flying in on Wednesday and staying for a week then we’re flying to Ireland to introduce them to Mum and then out to Spain to meet Dad and Inez. I hope they all get on. I’m really nervous.”
There was no way Michael’s parents could avoid falling in love with June, just as their son had. April squeezed June’s hand.
June’s eyes clouded. “I know the thought of the wedding has brought back memories for everyone. Mum’s mentioned the past a few times.”
“Does Michael…” April’s mouth was dry. “Does he know?”
“About Matthew?” June’s smile held a hint of sadness. “Yes, I told him before he proposed. I reckoned someone would tell him at some stage, and it might as well be me.”
“I wonder what happened to Matthew.” The words were out before April’s brain could communicate with her mouth and stop them. “Oh, I’m sorry, I…”
“Matthew’s living and working in London.” June walked over and poured a cup of coffee.
It was as though a fog had descended. April heard June’s words, but couldn’t make sense of them. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “You’ve kept in contact?”
“Not exactly, but I know where he is.” June turned. Her gaze locked with Aprils. “He’s not a bad man, you know. We were very young. I’m glad we never married. We would have made each other unhappy, sooner or later. Now I have Michael—I’m so happy. I wish Matthew nothing but the best.”
“You can’t possibly mean that.” April crossed her arms. “You’re a very generous person, but he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, never mind your good wishes. I hope I never see him again for as long as I live. Not everyone deserves a second chance.”
An errant memory nagged at her. Years ago, she’d greeted Matthew’s arrival at their house with almost as much enthusiasm as June. Back in school, she’d nursed a crush on her friend Amy’s older brother. The entire Logan clan were so charismatic and good-looking, it was difficult not to. Of course, she’d been a sixteen year old kid—a teenager with a mouthful of braces that made her self-conscious.
In Matthew’s company, her heart sped up and she became totally tongue-tied and awkward. With his intense navy blue eyes, and almost-black hair tumbling across his forehead, he’d been every teenager’s fantasy. She’d tried to hide her attraction, and he’d seemed oblivious to her crush. He’d been kind, been fun. Back then, she’d dreamed of one day finding a man just like him.
“Do you ever see Amy?” It was as though June had zoned in on April’s thoughts.
She shook her head. Their friendship had hit the skids pretty much immediately after their siblings’ relationship. I guess in a warzone you pick a side.
June tilted her head to the side. “Are you seeing anyone?” Her eyebrows rose.
“No. Well, not really.” She’d gone on a couple of dates recently with another barista, or should that be baristo? Joshua was nice, uncomplicated, but didn’t exactly set her on fire. He’d tried, but the lack of chemistry was obvious.
“Might you bring someone to the wedding?”
“Are you kidding? Bringing someone to your wedding would be disastrous. Dad would have me married off before I’d even completed the introductions.”
June sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. She had a familiar look on her face, the one that usually meant that she was going to ask a favor April wasn’t going to enjoy giving.
On stiff legs April walked over and sat down.
June placed her soft, manicured hand over April’s clenched hands. “In that case, I need another favor. I want you to look after Matthew at the wedding.”
*****
Matthew Logan breathed in the clear crisp air and looked up into a cloudless sky. Conditions were perfect.
“Thank you all for coming today.” He smiled at the employees who had answered his call for volunteers, all clad in their running gear. It was strange to see them in out of their usual suits and professional work wear. “I really appreciate you guys helping us out here, and for bringing your supporters along. Let me explain how this is going to work.
”
The abandoned airfield outside London still had its uses, mostly as a training road for learner drivers, but today—today the quiet track had been transformed into a running track for the use of Logan Advertising.
At one end of the looping runway was the start line, and along the route large screens had been set up, which would be visible to the runners as they circuited.
“Everyone has their tags attached to their running shoes, and their recording devices?”
The little group responded with nods and upraised thumbs.
“The purpose of today is not to test the system, we know from the manufacturers it works properly,” Matthew said. “What we need from you guys is feedback about the images you will see as you pass each screen. As you know, this technology has been used in marathons in the past few years, and don’t worry, I’m not expecting anyone here to run a marathon unless they feel like one hell of a workout this morning.” He grinned. “I’m going to do two circuits, because I need the exercise, but I think most people will do one. Susan has programmed the system with each runner’s details. I’ll let her explain the next bit.”
Susan White stepped forward. “Okay, there are two parts to this, the runners…” The runners cheered. “And the supporters.” The supporters cheered back. “Each runner has a team to keep them going. We’re spreading the supporters out into four groups. Each group is covered by a camera. The RFID devices are triggered as each runner crosses over the mats set up along the route. This passes information on the runners’ positions to central control. As each runner approaches the screen, a personalized message flicks up. They’ll see real-time encouragement from their supporters, a targeted message from the advertisers, and as they pass, footage of the product.”
“What we want to evaluate here today is the effectiveness of the advertising,” Matthew said. “Each screen has the same information, but delivered in a different order. We’ve done some modeling in the office, but we need feedback from you guys as to which works best.” He held up the recorder fastened on a lanyard around his neck. “As you see each screen, I want you to record the following information. Screen number, your thoughts about the content, and how you are feeling—both approaching the screen and leaving it.” He pointed to the table set a little way away from the starting line. “When you’ve finished your run, hand in your recorder to Janice and she’ll give you an envelope.”
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