Runaway Groom

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Runaway Groom Page 4

by Sally Clements


  “I am going out to dinner tomorrow night.”

  “With a man? Woo! Go you!” Eliza’s cheerleading made everything worse.

  April groaned and rubbed her forehead.

  “Ah, not woo?” Eliza asked.

  “Definitely not woo.” April swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I think I’ve really screwed up.”

  “What’s going on?” Marie took a mouthful of food, and raised her eyes heavenward. “This is delicious.”

  “I went to see Matthew, to ask him not to go to the wedding.”

  Marie’s eye’s opened so wide she looked as though she’d been electrocuted. “You...what?”

  “What’s he like?” Eliza asked.

  “He was always good-looking, but now…well let’s just say he’s improved with age.” With Eliza and Marie she could be totally honest, and the turmoil swirling around in her gut since yesterday needed an outlet. “He’s irresistibly gorgeous. I flirted with him.”

  Marie did goldfish face. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  “I didn’t mean to.” April pulled her black tee-shirt out of her jeans. Her stomach felt hot. “I wore the black skirt and the way he looked at my legs…well I just couldn’t help it.” She took another mouthful of wine.

  “He flirted back, I take it?”

  Self-disgust flooded April. “Yes, he flirted back. I feel dirty. I liked it.” What sort of a woman flirted with the man who’d made her sister pregnant and then ran out on her? “I’m a total monster.”

  “The whole thing with your sister is over and done.” Marie tossed her hair back. “You once said you had a crush on him years ago.”

  “Every girl with a pulse had a crush on Matthew Logan. But there’s no way I can get involved with him. It would be the ultimate betrayal of June. The guy is a snake.”

  “So why are you going out with him? Eliza asked.

  “I asked him not to go to the wedding.” She remembered the hint of hurt in his eyes that had appeared for a brief moment. “I sort of gave him hell for running out on her years ago.”

  “Ouch,” Marie said.

  “Yeah, ouch. I think I made him really angry. He told me I’d formed a wrong impression of him. That I need to get to know him better. Tomorrow night is to be the first step.”

  Maria pushed a roast potato around, covering it with gravy. “He might have a point; after all there are two sides to every story. You might even get to like the guy.”

  Liking Matthew wasn’t an option. “Hmm.”

  “Keep an open mind. Go to dinner. Treat him like a human being, rather than the pariah he actually is. You can ease into it; make him see how going to the wedding would be a bad idea. What could possibly go wrong?” Eliza was a perennial optimist.

  Maria nodded. “I agree, you just need to charm him a little. Then you can talk to him as a friend. Appeal to his better side.”

  April forced a smile. There was no way it would be that easy. But what choice did she have?

  *****

  He had no idea why he’d asked her out. The more he’d thought about it in the day since, the more he’d been convinced he must be having some sort of a breakdown. Maybe he was going totally crazy. Because getting to know April Leigh better was a recipe for disaster.

  It had been a long time since the opinion of others made even a dent in his outer shell. But the look on her face as she damned him for treating June badly had hurt. April had been a friend. His little sister Amy’s best friend. Condemnation from her somehow was worse than the cold shoulder he got from certain people in Brookbridge. It was personal. There was no way he’d tell her the truth about her sister, but at the same time he wasn’t going to suffer her disdain.

  He would ignore the fact that she was hot.

  Not flirting would be difficult, but tonight he’d have to try. He loved women, and in the past few years had spent time with quite a few of them. But he’d unerringly pulled back at the first hint a relationship was turning more serious. Once he’d thought he understood someone, had trusted completely. And look where that had got him.

  There were thousands of restaurants he could take her to. Hundreds of clubs, and countless places to go. This evening was about getting to know each other, about cutting the thread with the past, and connecting as adults. They’d need distraction, something different to achieve that, so he’d suggested meeting at the Embankment Underground station.

  He pushed back the sleeve of his white shirt and glanced at his watch.

  When he looked up, she was walking toward him. Her hair was twisted up in a complicated knot, and she was wearing a long black coat and high black boots.

  “Hi.” Her voice was slightly breathless.

  He stepped forward and kissed her cheek, breathing in her warm, spicy perfume. Kissing a friend was natural, automatic, innocuous. But as he eased away, her rapid breathing was impossible to ignore. Her lips parted a fraction, and her gaze flickered to his mouth.

  “We’re walking.” He slipped an arm through hers and walked her across the road, to Embankment Pier.

  As they approached, April’s fingers clasped tighter. “Oh, are we going here?” Delight shone from the face she tilted his direction. “I’ve always wanted to go on one of these!”

  “Me too.” Matthew smiled. “In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never done the tourist thing, but I thought seeing as both of us are essentially foreigners in a strange land, we’d both enjoy it.”

  “Great choice.”

  The custom-made boat was like a floating dining room, with polished wooden floors and the entire top and sides made of glass. Candles flickered on each table. The hostess led them to a secluded table at the side of the floor, which gave a perfect view of London. She whisked away April’s coat.

  Beneath it, she wore a long black dress, clinched in at the waist with a studded leather belt. It dipped low in the front, revealing a glimpse of creamy cleavage. The only flash of color came from the red gemstones encased in gold around her throat.

  “You look beautiful. Is that one of your creations?”

  April blushed. “Yes.”

  Matthew raised one of the glasses of Kir the waitress brought to the table. “Here’s to getting to know each other better.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” She brought the glass to her lips and sipped. She gazed out through the expanse of window. “The view is fantastic.”

  “We’ll get going in a moment, apparently we’ll see all of London.” He pulled a brochure from his pocket and read it aloud. “London Bridge, the Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge, The Millennium Dome…”

  “Wow.” Her delighted grin was unforced.

  “A jazz band will be playing later too.”

  “I could get addicted to this.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” He picked up a menu. “So now we know one thing for sure about each other. We both enjoy surprises.”

  “Well…” She tilted her head to the side. “Some surprises aren’t good.”

  He shook his head. “We are not talking about the wedding.”

  She frowned.

  “Talking about the wedding is a bad idea. How can we relax while we’re both trying to influence each other? We’ll talk about it a month from today.”

  “A month?”

  “Not a single word about the wedding for a month. That’s my final offer.”

  “I know something else about you.” A hint of a smile tilted the corners of her mouth up. “You’re stubborn.”

  “You better believe it.” He handed her a menu. “Let’s choose, I’m starving.”

  This idea for dinner had really been a masterstroke. The constantly changing view beyond the glass walls was a useful point of conversation, smoothing over any awkward lulls. Matthew talked about his job, and by the time dessert was served, April was considerably more relaxed.

  “Our client, Albios, are sponsoring a 10k race before the London Marathon which we hope will prove as a testing ground for all of the elements
of our advertising campaign,” he explained. “The face is female only, so we’ve been doing extensive testing with female runners.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Mainly in the approach. Our market research showed our female staff wanted to see their families and supporters for longer, and straight away, with the advertising punch coming at the end of the segment, when they were running away from the sign rather than before.”

  “Makes sense. I’d be anticipating seeing my friends shouting me on as I ran up to the sign.”

  “We also discovered if we stretched the advertising at the end of the segment for another couple of minutes, it acted as a lead in to the next runner.”

  “So the screen was more or less permanently displaying something?”

  Matthew nodded. He raised an eyebrow, tapped the wine bottle, then when she agreed, refilled her glass. “A lot of these details can only be worked out in a live environment—which is why we’re running another trial in a couple of weeks.”

  He smiled. “I doubt I’ll be able to persuade my employees to sacrifice more of their spare time to test it out though. It might just end up being the directors.”

  “I’ll come and try it out if you like.” She really didn’t do jogging, but how hard could it be to run along with a group of office workers in the countryside?

  Life had been lived inside for months, either working on her collection or in the coffee-shop. Now she was on top of her workload, the thought of taking some time out and giving her body a workout at the same time was appealing.

  “That would be great. Would you come as my supporter or as a runner?”

  “As a runner.” No doubt Matthew would be too busy breaking the speed record to notice if she jogged a while, walked a bit. And afterwards she could crawl home and collapse, if need be.

  “If Amy lived closer I’d hound her into it too.”

  Warmth spread through April’s chest. Memories of endless days and evenings spent laughing with her friend sparkled like crystals in the dark cave of her mind. For once, she didn’t try to force them away with remembered quarrels they’d had about the wedding that never happened. In this moment she just recalled the fun. The love. The good times.

  “Where is she now?” Her voice sounded wistful, but Matthew didn’t seem to notice.

  “New York.”

  She knew nothing at all about one of her oldest friends. “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s still organizing those trips…” His gaze sharpened. “You don’t know, do you? About…”

  “I don’t know anything about her anymore.” April pushed her plate away. “We lost touch a long time ago.”

  The room filled with the sound of softly played jazz, and a few couples stepped onto the dance floor, drifting around with glittering London as a backdrop.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  Yes, she’d like to dance. She’d like to soothe the melancholy that somehow had lodged in her heart, as though she’d breathed it in, like mist.

  Dancing with Matthew was beyond foolish.

  She reached for the tiny white porcelain cup of espresso. “I think I better drink my coffee.” A glance at her watch revealed they’d been on the ship for hours. The night was almost over.

  There was no way to cut the evening short, no way to call a taxi and escape into the night. Not yet, anyway.

  “Amy works for a company in New York organizing camera safaris in Africa for rich Americans. She says she does it because as a side benefit, she gets to act as liaison once a year, and go with them.”

  With the conversation back on a neutral footing, April breathed in deep and imagined Amy creeping up on antelope.

  “She was always crazy for adventures.”

  “She hadn’t changed a bit. Last year, she managed to talk her way onto an expedition to Peru.” Matthew leaned close. “She came back dressed like an Inca—she sent me a picture and I swear everything she was wearing was either red or embroidered.”

  Amy had always been a flamboyant adventure seeker.

  “Hang on, I might have it.” Matthew pulled out his wallet and tugged a photograph from the back panel. “Yup, thought so.” He handed it over.

  Amy’s long hennaed hair curled around her face. A richly embroidered hat sat atop the curls. She was grinning in the picture, and every inch of her was covered by bright Inca clothing. She wore strings of beads around her neck. “She looks great.”

  “You wanted to be a vet. How the heck did you end up designing dresses?”

  April thought back through the years to the girl she’d been. A year after Matthew had run out on the wedding, her parents’ marriage had come unstuck. Dad had a job opportunity in Spain and he’d taken it. Mum had been so demoralized she’d spent the next six months moping around the house.

  April’s focus had shifted. They were the same—she and Mum. Both slender and athletic, sort of shy, and guarded. June dressed every day in knockout clothes, and attacked the world, and it had occurred to April if her mother could borrow some of that chutzpah it would give her the confidence to go on.

  “Mum needed a job, and when an opportunity came along, her confidence was at rock-bottom.” They’d rooted through her mother’s wardrobe, looking for the perfect outfit. “She didn’t have anything to wear. Well, not anything that played to her strengths and gave her confidence. I took her shopping, and when I got her to try on this one dress…” April’s mouth curved. The designer dress didn’t look much on the hanger, but it transformed Margaret. The cleverly-cut navy shift had a V neckline ideal to show-off Margaret’s long neck. It clung in all the right places, giving the illusion of curves. Finally, the half-sleeves that came to her elbow covered the area she was most insecure about.

  “Mum looked great. And her confidence was so high, she rocked the interview and got the job.” Some women like June and Amy, were so full of confidence they could wear anything. Others felt so awkward in clothes, dressing was a nightmare. Clothes were too tight, too low cut, too badly fitting. It didn’t have to be like that, not if the designer’s emphasis was on the wearer, rather than transitory fashion trends. Becoming a designer was more than April’s job, it was her calling. She wanted the look of delight that had been on her mother’s face back then to be on the faces of all the women who wore her clothes.

  She wanted to give them armor. “I want to make dresses that make women feel good.”

  Matthew smiled. “Dress for success, huh?” He nodded. “I can see how that works. Men don’t usually have as many clothes as women, my wardrobe is stuffed full of Amy’s things for when she’s visiting. I have six suits.” A dimple flashed in his cheek. “But I bet they cost more than all her clothes put together.”

  “And you feel great when you wear them?”

  “Always.” He glanced out of the window. “We’re docking.”

  Despite her misgivings, the evening had been a pleasant one.

  “I enjoyed…” April’s cell phone rang. “Oh, excuse me for a moment.” She answered it.

  “April, it’s Elizabeth.” Her boss’s tone was urgent. “Where are you?”

  “I’m out having dinner. What’s up?”

  As Elizabeth spoke, dread floated like a black fog at the top of April’s head, then gradually sank downward, chilling every inch of her insides.

  She hung up. “There’s been a fire.” April reached down for her bag. “I have to go.” She rolled her lips together as her gaze flickered to the exit.

  Matthew laid a hand on her sleeve. “Where? Tell me what happened.”

  She ran a hand over her face. “There was a fire at the coffee shop I work in. The one directly under my apartment. That was my boss and landlady, Elizabeth. She says the coffee shop is a write-off. I don’t know what state my apartment is in.” She paled. Her hands clutched into fists. “All of my collection is in the apartment. There’s bound to be smoke damage...”

  “There’s no point in panicking until we get there.” He stood and asked the
waitress for April’s coat.

  She flashed him a wobbly goodbye smile. “Thanks for tonight, I had fun.”

  “You’re not going by yourself.” He took her elbow. “I parked nearby, I’ll drive you.”

  “You don’t need...” She shook her head, doubtless considering how long it would take her to get home on the tube. “Actually I’d appreciate a lift.”

  “Of course.” April was alone in London, facing a possible disaster, there was no way he’d let anyone endure that alone.

  She was quiet as his powerful car cut through London’s streets, except for giving directions occasionally in clipped tones.

  “Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

  She darted him a glance. “I’m sure it won’t come to that. If so, I have a couple of friends I could call.”

  Matthew looked at the clock on the dash. “You can stay with me. It’s too late to arrive at a friend’s house.”

  She pointed.

  A fire engine was parked outside the coffee shop, and a small crowd were gathered on the sidewalk. It looked worse than they’d imagined.

  “There’s Elizabeth.”

  He pulled up and let her out, searching the road for a parking space. By the time he made it back to her, she was deep in conversation with a woman wearing sweats.

  Quickly she made the introductions.

  “I need to get upstairs.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “I used my key to let the firefighters in. The flames didn’t reach the apartment, but you can’t stay there tonight. The air is toxic.”

  His mother would have been wailing to heaven in this situation, but April stayed calm and focused in the face of this bad news.

  Her gaze met his, then she stepped away from the crowd, to the narrow doorway on the right of the coffee shop.

  He followed.

  The acrid smell of smoke hung in the air. The door to her apartment was open, and inside a man who could only be the fire chief was assessing the situation.

  “This is my tenant.” A voice from behind them. He hadn’t noticed Elizabeth following.

  April walked to a rack of clothes. She ran her hands over them, as if checking they were still intact. She lifted a dress to her face, then pushed it away with a grimace.

 

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