Meet Clara Morgan (Clara Andrews Series - Book 3)

by Lacey London

  ‘Well, I have onion bhajis, rice and chapatis. I could heat up a jarred sauce and make a biriyani?’ I try to sound upbeat, but it’s proving difficult.

  ‘And she also doesn’t eat carbs.’ He flashes me an apologetic grin and shrugs his shoulders. ‘It’s fine. I’ll take her out to that sushi place in town. They’ve got a great vegetarian menu. Wanna join us?’

  ‘Actually, I have a bit of a headache. Do you mind if I stay behind? Besides, I have already eaten.’

  ‘You sure? I won’t hog her after tonight, I swear. I know that you two will have a lot of talk about.’

  I open my mouth to speak, but I am momentarily stunned by a very wet, very naked Janie, who is wearing nothing but our smallest hand towel. I immediately look away as Oliver claps a hand over his eyes.

  ‘Jeez, Mom! For the love of God! Could ya put some clothes on?’ Taking hold of Janie’s garish suitcase, he leads her into a guest bedroom and slams the door behind her.

  I lock eyes with Oliver and try not to erupt into laughter. This is going to be a long six weeks. I think I am going to need a little more than take out and wine to get through this.

  9.25pm

  To: lianna-banana@lime.com

  From: claraandrews001@firemail.co.uk

  Subject: HELP!

  Oliver’s mother is here! Apparently she is here to plan my wedding…

  Why does my future husband hate me? Why?

  xoxo

  Chapter 7

  Rubbing my aching temples, I try to get my eyes to focus on the fuzzy computer screen in front of me. I don’t think that I have ever had a worse night’s sleep in my entire life. Last night, I was safely tucked up in my lovely bed dreaming of Adam Levine and whipped cream, when Janie’s hideously loud cackle brought me back to reality. It turns out that a quick bite of sushi quickly evolved into a scotch or ten, resulting in the highly intoxicated twosome staggering back home like a pair of naughty adolescents. Stinking of alcohol and cigarette smoke, it was fair to say that I was far from impressed.

  That woman has been here less than twenty four hours and she is already causing chaos. To make matters worse, I have had the morning from hell at work. With Lianna in full bridezilla mode and Oliver working over at the Elmhurst studio, things are starting to get a little strained. I have spent all morning and the majority of the afternoon chasing up an order for some patent leather that was due to arrive three days ago. If it doesn’t turn up soon Marc will have me going straight for the cows.

  Taking a sip of much needed coffee, I look down at my pretty Michael Kors watch and breathe a sigh of relief. Less than an hour to go. Less than an hour until I can escape this mad house and head back home to my beloved bed. Grimacing at the tepid dishwater taste, I put down the pathetic plastic cup as an email flashes up on my screen. Noticing that it is from Oliver brings a ridiculous smile to my face, realising that it concerns Janie, does not.

  Hey! Mom has some wedding stuff that she wants to talk to you about. She will be waiting for you in Reception. I’m gonna head straight home. Have fun!

  Fun? Being left alone with a hungover Janie when I am exhausted and sleep deprived is not my idea of fun. Tapping out a quick reply, I try to focus on my work. The truth is, yes Janie might be as easy to appease as an angry bulldog, but I really do need a wedding planner and with the clock ticking, I need one now.

  *

  ‘What the hell is this?’ Janie jabs a piece of kale and looks at it with contempt. ‘They hear the word vegetarian and assume that you’re a goddam rabbit!’ Spinning around in her seat, she hollers at the waiter. ‘Hey! Can I get a scotch on the rocks over here?’

  I stifle a giggle and dunk a golden chip into a mound of barbecue sauce. To be totally honest, this evening has actually gone pretty well. Admittedly, I did have a little panic attack when I stepped out of the lift and caught Janie harassing the cute Portuguese security guard, but since then things have been pretty calm. Although strangely, we haven’t mentioned the wedding once.

  ‘Are you sure that you don’t want one?’ I push my plate of cheesy fries towards her. ‘That salad doesn’t look very filling.’

  Janie doesn’t reply, but shoots me a look that would make the ice caps melt. OK then, I’ll take that as a no.

  ‘Anyway, let’s get down to business here.’ Putting down her fork, Janie slips her falcon like acrylics into her handbag and pulls out a hefty folder.

  Intrigued, I watch as she drops the folder onto the table with a bang, almost breaking my hand in the process. Adorned with gems and old photographs, it is one hell of a folder for an amateur wedding planner. Suddenly feeling reassured, I allow myself to relax a little. Maybe I have underestimated Janie. Maybe this will work out after all.

  ‘So, first things first. What’s the name of this church? The Waddington?’ She attempts to frown, but the many years of being pumped up with Botox prevent her from doing so. ‘What kind of name is that for a church? Where is this place?’

  Feeling my cheeks turn a violent shade of red, I look down at my knees. Church? What church? Oh, God! She thinks that we’re getting married in a church! I have a flash back to a time in Mexico, a time when she grilled me about religion and marriage before Oliver had even popped the question. I should have known that this would happen.

  ‘And let me tell ya, Reverend Williams was incredibly disappointed not to be performing this service himself.’ Janie looks at me seriously. ‘He has done every wedding in the Morgan family for the past twenty years.’

  So much for underestimating her. What am I going to say? This is not going to go down well.

  ‘Erm, it’s not The Waddington, it’s The Millington and it isn’t a church. It’s a hotel.’ I offer her a please don’t stab me smile and hope for the best.

  Janie stares at me blankly, pen in mouth. ‘Just hold your horses lady. We will get to the reception later. Right now, we’re talking about the ceremony. Now, what’s the name of this church?’

  ‘Well…’ I rack my brains for a way to put this delicately. ‘We decided not to get married in a church. Since we don’t attend, it didn’t seem right to do it just for the pretty photos.’ Janie continues to stare at me with an expression that I can’t quite read so I carry on talking. ‘We are getting married at The Millington. It’s a five star hotel not too far from the apartment. Stunning, rural location. They are going to do the whole thing, from the ceremony right through to the evening reception.’

  ‘Wait a minute. Just wait a minute. You’re telling me that my Oliver, my son, my only son is getting married in a… in a hotel?’ Janie spits out the word hotel like it is venomous.

  ‘Didn’t Oliver tell you?’ I try to sound nonchalant, but my voice is small, timid and frankly quite scared.

  ‘No, Clara. No he did not.’ She snatches the scotch out of the embarrassed waiter’s hand and drains the glass in one very unladylike gulp. ‘I don’t think so.’

  I don’t think so? What does that mean? We are getting married at The Millington! It’s all booked! And more to the point, it’s all paid for!

  ‘Right, I’m gonna deal with this hotel business later. Leave it with me. Now what about bridesmaids? How many are we talking here?’ Janie chews on the tip of her pen. ‘Ten, twenty?’

  ‘Erm, my friends Lianna and Gina are going to be my bridesmaids, so just two.’ I watch confused as Janie writes the number five next to bridesmaids. ‘Five?’

  ‘Yes. Your two friends and my girls. Five.’

  ‘Girls?’ I screw up my nose in bewilderment. I thought Oliver was an only child? Come to think of it, he definitely told me that he was an only child.

  ‘Yes, my girls. Dixie, Dolly and Dallas.’ Janie’s eyes mist over as she speaks. ‘My sister’s children. The daughters that I never had.’

  Dixie, Dolly and Dallas? They sound like a comedy act! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. She has to be joking. Well, one thing’s for sure, they can’t be any worse than Janie, can they?

  Chapter 8


  ‘Dixie, Dolly and Dallas?’ Lianna laughs loudly and wipes a hysterical tear from her eyes.

  ‘I know, but to be honest, they’re the least of my worries!’ I reply with a smile. ‘This colour is stunning by the way, I love it.’ Twirling around in the mirror, I nod appreciatively. ‘Very classy.’

  ‘Really? You think so?’ Her eyes light up as she strokes the dusky pink satin fondly. ‘It does look great on you.’

  Studying my reflection, I have to agree with her. Pink has never been my colour of choice, but this subtle shade really is pretty. Usually pink makes me look like a washed out toddler.

  ‘I hate it.’ Gina’s voice thunders from the adjoining dressing room.

  I lock eyes with Li and swallow a giggle. Bridesmaid dress shopping with Gina was never going to be easy, so far she has dismissed at least ten dresses, maybe more. It turns out, that if it isn’t neon, animal print or latex, it doesn’t sit well with Gina. Squeezing past Lianna, I pop my head into Gina’s changing room and coax her to come out.

  ‘Gina! You look beautiful! It really makes your eyes pop. Doesn’t it Li?’ I look at Lianna and send her a mental SOS. Truthfully, with Gina’s radioactive glow, bright red pout and jet black hair, nothing is going to work perfectly.

  ‘Well, it is either this one or the lavender one.’ Lianna folds her arms and shoots us both her don’t mess with me look. ‘Take your pick.’

  ‘This one.’ Gina and I announce simultaneously, not wanting to be lumbered with the lilac smock dress that we tried on earlier. No matter how hard Lianna tried to convince us that it was nice, neither of us were falling for it.

  ‘That’s settled then.’ Li claps her hands together excitedly. ‘Now, what about a shawl? I think a lace shawl would go with the pink perfectly. And shoes! We need to look at shoes!’ Lianna’s voice trails off as she disappears towards the shoe department.

  Whilst I can feel Gina’s pain with the lavender dress, this one really isn’t that bad. The pink is pale and non offensive and the full skirt falls delicately at the knee. Aside from the fact that it is satin and strapless, it is probably as good as it gets for a bridesmaid’s dress. I mean let’s face it, there are some real shockers out there. When my aunt Helen got married, she made us all wear floral bonnets with matching baskets. Trust me, I have had my fair share of bad outfits.

  I watch Gina checking out her reflection in the mirror and raise my eyebrows as she turns up the hem until it is barely covering her backside. Her giant engagement ring glimmers as she twirls around. If the pink, heart shaped rock is anything to go by, then this wedding is going to be something special.

  ‘How are your wedding plans coming along, Gina?’ I flop down into the armchair and flip through a bridal catalogue.

  ‘Oh yeah, about that.’ She turns to face me, just as Lianna appears with a pretty lace up sandal. ‘We’re actually thinking about doing it next weekend.’

  ‘What? Next weekend?’ My jaw visibly drops at the revelation. ‘Why the rush? What happened to Vegas?’

  Gina points wildly to her stomach as her mouth stretches into a massive smile. ‘This happened!’

  ‘What happened?’ Now that she points it out, her stomach does look a little swollen. I stare at her open mouthed. Is she pregnant? Madison is not even a year old yet! How can she be pregnant again?

  ‘I’m pregnant!’ Gina’s high pitched squawk echoes around the changing room, resulting in a small round of applause from the neighbouring cubicles. ‘Marc said that we should wait to tell people as it is still early days, but I can’t keep it in any longer!’

  ‘Congratulations!’ Lianna squeals! ‘This is amazing! I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Neither could we! It was just this one time after that party at Rebecca’s house and then, boom! Preggo!’ She sticks out her stomach proudly. ‘The first thing I said to Marc was that I am not walking down the aisle the size of Shamu, so we better bring this wedding forward.’

  ‘Where are you going to do it?’ Li drops the shoe and puts her hands on Gina’s belly. ‘Have you booked anything yet?’

  ‘We are thinking of doing it at Holy Trinity Church in Castleton. Marc gave them a call and they have a slot next Saturday at eleven.’

  I smile at her in response, giggling inside at the irony of Gina walking down the aisle of Holy Trinity Church pregnant in a crimson wedding dress.

  ‘That really is amazing, Gina. I am so happy for you.’ Wrapping my arms around her neck, I try not to breathe in the potent hairspray fumes. ‘Three weddings in under two months! We deserve medals!’

  ‘We do!’ She agrees enthusiastically. ‘Or at the very least a cocktail to celebrate!’

  I shoot Gina a disapproving glance and she responds with her usual cackle. ‘Non alcoholic, obviously.’ She shuffles back into the changing room, dragging the dress over her head as she goes. ‘They do have alcohol free tequila, right?’

  Chapter 9

  Snuggling into Oliver’s shoulder later that day, I run my fingers through his floppy curls happily. Someone needs a haircut. I stretch out my legs into his lap and study his ridiculously handsome face. The longer than usual locks and incredible amount of dark stubble make him look a little bit like a homeless Gremlin. A very hot homeless Gremlin, nonetheless.

  After our successful shopping trip earlier, we hit a few bars and enjoyed a number of yummy cocktails. When I say we, I mean Lianna and I. Gina had just one virgin cocktail and then declared it home time. Not that anyone really cared. She spent most of her time gazing at the drinks menu mournfully whilst sipping an alcohol free margarita. Oh, the joys of impending motherhood.

  Since I got home, I have enjoyed a lovely bubble bath, given myself a much needed pedicure and read this month’s copy of Cosmopolitan Bride from cover to cover. Now, curled up next to Oliver watching the new Leonardo DiCaprio movie, it is fair to say that I am feeling quite blissfully content. Thankfully, Janie sank an entire bottle of gin with dinner and is now snoring away on the adjacent couch. Evidently, carbs and meat are off the table, but anything alcoholic is more than welcome.

  As the credits begin to roll, I spy my chance to ask Oliver about something that has been on my mind all day.

  ‘So, I was talking to your mum last night and it seems that we have an additional three bridesmaids.’ Offering him an innocent smile, I prop myself up onto my elbows.

  ‘We do?’ Oliver’s forehead creases into a frown as he turns to face me.

  ‘Apparently so.’ I reach for the near empty bowl of popcorn and toss a handful into my mouth. ‘Who are Dixie, Dolly and Dallas?’

  ‘You gotta be kidding me?’ He shakes his head and lets out a half laugh, half cough sound. ‘Oh, God. They’re my mom’s nieces and to be brutally honest, they’re trouble.’

  ‘Trouble? Why would they be trouble?’ I try to brush it off, but something in Oliver’s tone tells me that he isn’t joking.

  ‘Put it this way, if you think my mom’s a lot to handle, you ain’t seen nothing yet.’ He offers me the last of the popcorn, but I shake my head in response.

  ‘Dixie, Dolly and especially Dallas are my mom’s little protégés. Aunt Mindy is a doll. You would never believe that those girls were her daughters. It’s actually a running joke in the family that they are biologically my mom’s.’

  My mouth suddenly feels inexplicably dry. ‘Why would people say that they are Janie’s?’

  ‘They are carbon copies of one another! Seriously, when they’re in a room together, even I can’t tell them apart. The hair, the outfits, the voice…’

  There can’t be more than one Janie! The world wouldn’t be able to cope! He’s exaggerating, he must be.

  ‘Yeah right!’ I punch his arm playfully and kick off my shoes.

  ‘You’ll see, Clara. You’ll see.’

  *

  ‘Really sorry about this.’ My eyes flit from Gina to Lianna and back again.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s fine, honestly.’ Lianna flashes me a reassuring smile and check
s her watch for the tenth time.

  Where the hell is she? When Janie heard that we were going to a wedding fair this afternoon, she insisted that she join us and with her being my so called wedding planner, it was near impossible to say no. Feeling spots of rain land on my cold cheeks, I let out a frustrated sigh.

  ‘You two go inside, I’ll give her a ring and catch you up.’ I pass them their entry tickets and rummage through the contents of my bag for my phone.

  Lianna hands me her polka dot umbrella and chases after Gina, who has already disappeared into the building. Jabbing at the touch screen on my phone, I step into the lobby out of the wind and wait for the strange dial tone. Hearing it click instantly over to voicemail, I shove my phone into my back pocket with annoyance. How rude! If she isn’t coming she could at least call me to let me know. Typical Janie! The woman is a liability!

  Resisting the urge to type out an angry text message, I pass my ticket to the doorman and shake off my damp coat. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the bright spotlights and buzzing crowds. Wow! This place is like Disneyland for brides! Stunning wedding dresses, beautiful roses and vintage cars fill the room. A harpist is playing soft music as enthusiastic hairdressers pass around leaflets eagerly. Trying to attract customers with vouchers for a five percent discount if you book within the next hour, valid between September to November on Tuesdays and Thursdays only, they aren’t having much luck. I don’t think that I have ever seen so many women in one place before. Each one grinning manically, their arms filled with gift bags and fabric samples.

  Taking care not to be knocked over by a rather excitable mother and daughter duo, I stand on my tip toes in search of Lianna and Gina. I’ll never find them in here. I’d have more chance of finding a pair of Crocs in Carrie Bradshaw’s wardrobe. Spotting a pop up bar giving out samples of what appear to be Champagne, I attempt to push my way through the sea of people. If I know Lianna like I think I do, this is where she will be.

  Finding a free space at the bar, I hop onto a stool and flash a friendly grin at the barman. As I wait for my complimentary glass of fizz, I pick up a flyer and wince at the extortionate prices. No wonder they are plying everyone with booze! You would have to be drunk to pay these prices! I politely take my frosty glass in exchange for my email address. If only you could pay for everything with contact information. A cocktail for a Twitter handle, an address for a facial, people already go on dates in exchange for a phone number. Makes sense, if you really think about it.