The Little Shop of Hopes and Dreams (Mills & Boon M&B)

by Fiona Harper

  When they spilled out of the lift into a large suite filled with balloons and silvery confetti, he started frowning. The pleasant feeling of surprise at seeing Nicole here was wearing off and now he was starting to think something was going on. It was as if everyone else in this little scenario knew the script and he was the one left to improvise.

  He turned to Saffron. ‘Do you know Nicole? And what’s all this about market researchers? This isn’t some new scheme to keep your name in the papers, is it?’

  ‘Yes, I know Nicole, but what I want to know is: how well do you know Nicole?’

  He had the grace to feel a little shimmer of heat travel up his neck. While he hadn’t been unfaithful to Saffron, he had moved on pretty quick.

  ‘She’s a journalist,’ he replied. ‘She was doing a piece on weddings and the people who work at them. I helped her out.’

  Saffron gave him a disbelieving look, and then she lifted her chin. ‘Wrong again, smart guy. Nicole isn’t a journalist.’

  He turned to look at Nicole. She looked very much the way she had moments after she’d dropped that memory card into a glass of champagne. He didn’t have to ask her if it was the truth.

  ‘You lied to me?’

  An icy wave washed over him. He didn’t like this, didn’t like it one bit. One moment his evening had been going on fairly normally, and now he felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, knowing he had to make impact at some point, but everything was getting stranger and stranger the longer it took to hit ground zero.

  ‘Yes, she lied to you,’ Saffron said, a look of dark triumph on her face. ‘And she lied to me too. She’s not a journalist, Alex. Never has been. She’s my proposal planner.’

  He closed his eyes. Proposal planner. On the face of it the words made sense, but he just couldn’t seem to work out what that meant.

  ‘Who’s proposing?’ he asked, realising it was probably a really stupid question.

  The fire in Saffron’s eyes wavered and that lost-little-girl expression flickered over her face, just for a second. ‘I was. To you.’

  Okay. He’d obviously already hit the ground and got concussion in the process, because now things were getting seriously screwy. ‘But we broke up…’

  Saffron’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes,’ she said, shooting a venomous look at Nicole, ‘and now I understand why.’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’ That wasn’t the reason, or at least it had only been part of it.

  Saffron’s voice broke. ‘Don’t you lie to me too, Alex! I don’t think I can stand that.’ She marched over to Nicole and delivered a blistering slap to her face. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ she snarled. ‘I’ll make sure Hopes & Dreams never gets another customer. And I can do it! You know that I can!’

  And then she turned to him. ‘And you…! Mr I’m-so-honest-it-hurts! You’re nothing but a big fat hypocrite! I’m suddenly very glad I didn’t make a fool of myself for asking you to marry me in front of all those people—and even gladder I won’t ever have to go through with it.’

  He knew what was coming next and he didn’t move. When Saffron got in a slapping mood she kind of built up a momentum. And when she’d finished with him and his cheek was stinging hard, she turned and stalked away back to the lift and disappeared.

  That left him, Nicole and her two friends all staring at each other.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  ‘Erm…I think we should go and check on Saffron. Don’t you, Peggy?’ the slender one of Nicole’s friends who’d been Lara Croft on New Year’s Eve said.

  ‘Huh?’ The other one’s head twisted in the direction of her friend, but her eyes stayed fixed on him and Nicole.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Lara hit the lift button and grabbed Doris by the arm. When the doors slid open, she bundled her inside. Nicole sent them a pleading look, but it was too late. All Doris could do was shake her head and shrug as the doors whispered closed again.

  Nicole licked her lips. ‘Listen…I know this looks bad, but I can explain!’

  He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I’m sure you can, but I’m not sure I want to hear it.’

  Nicole stepped forward, but he backed away. Right at this moment he didn’t want her anywhere near him.

  ‘You’ve been lying to me all along,’ he said in a low, deceptively controlled voice.

  Her shoulders sagged and she let out a heaving breath. ‘I told you it was complicated.’

  Alex closed his eyes. He was tempted to laugh. Great, bellowing, dry cackles. There was normal people ‘complicated’ and then there was Nicole Harrison ‘complicated’. A bit like comparing a puddle to the mid-Atlantic trench.

  ‘It’s part of my job,’ she said softly.

  He turned before he opened his eyes so he didn’t have to see her. Then he walked to the windows and stared across to the awkward and leafless trees in the square opposite. He could just about see her reflection behind his in the dark glass and he moved to eclipse her.

  ‘When someone asks us—Hopes & Dreams, that’s my company—to plan a proposal, we arrange to “bump into” the girlfriend. It’s usually a girlfriend…You were our first…Never mind.’ She sighed. ‘It’s normally a harmless ten-minute chat, and when the proposal is over we all have a good laugh about it, even the party who’s been kept in the dark.’

  Alex didn’t move. He wasn’t finding his current situation even remotely amusing.

  He heard her take a step towards him on the thick carpet. ‘I didn’t know it was you…Not until after I’d arrived at the gallery and had already been chatting. Saffron was supposed to send a message through with your picture, you see, and she was a little bit late.’

  There was the tiniest upswing in her tone at the end of that sentence. As if she was asking him a question, as if she was asking him if he understood. He thought back to that evening. He remembered her looking at her phone, the way she’d been spooked and had rushed off straight after.

  He turned to face her. ‘You didn’t have to keep on with it after that. What was all that business about following me round at weddings—surely that wasn’t necessary? What on earth were you trying to do?’

  She shook her head and sat down on the end of the bed. A couple of the rose petals that had been strewn there slid off the silk comforter and onto the floor. ‘I was just so flustered when I saw you again that I forgot to do my job. I hadn’t found out anything about you. I had to keep going with the cover story in case you got suspicious, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity.’

  He nodded. Details were coming back to him now, about things she’d said, the way she’d reacted. Problem was, he didn’t much like knowing any more than he had not knowing. The mystery of Nicole Harrison wasn’t as enticing as he’d imagined it would be. ‘So that’s why you asked me about my relationship…? About what kind of wedding I’d like?’

  She nodded, then looked at the floor.

  ‘And there was me, thinking you’d wanted to talk to me because you actually liked me.’ He strode back across the suite towards the door. For some reason he needed to move. When he’d gone as far as he could go, he turned again. ‘But why the next wedding after that? Why waitress the other week? I just don’t get it!’

  Scratch that previous thought. Nicole wasn’t becoming more transparent the more he knew her. Every answer just threw up more questions.

  ‘Why?’ he asked again. He needed to know. For his own sanity, he needed to know.

  She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands, spoke through her fingers. ‘It seems really lame to say so now, but at the time it didn’t seem as if there was any other option.’

  He nodded. Those were just excuses. ‘I want the truth,’ he said. ‘You didn’t need to go to those lengths. Why did you? Is this another service that your wonderful company offers? Is that why you batted those big brown eyes at me?’

  Nicole looked up and frowned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Alex marched towards her,
stopped a few feet away from the bottom of the bed. ‘What’s it called? Ah, yes! A honey trap! Is that what you did, Nicole? Tested my fidelity so Saffron could be sure of me?’

  He wanted her to jump up and shout no, to slap him in the face or say something nasty right back, so he’d have a legitimate reason to unleash all the rage that was racing round his bloodstream. Instead she just sat there looking wounded. He forced himself not to soften, not to give her an inch. He’d fallen for that look before.

  ‘You really want to know why? Because I’ve been asking myself the same thing.’

  He nodded. ‘I really want to know.’

  She swallowed, even as she kept looking him in the eye. ‘Well, the only explanation I could come up with, and it’s not a very good one, was that I suppose I just wanted to see you again.’

  ‘Even though you knew what Saffron was planning?’

  She didn’t have to answer: her guilt was swimming in her eyes.

  ‘I tried not to feel that way,’ she added in a hoarse whisper. ‘And I tried to warn Saffron, but you know what she’s like…’

  He realised he was too close to her. Too close to those pleading brown eyes, to that crazy, nonsensical pull he felt every time he was around her, and he walked away, back to the window where he’d first started. He didn’t want to feel that tug, not now.

  ‘Yes, I do know Saffron.’ He looked over at her, sitting all vulnerable and Audrey Hepburn–like on the bed. He’d watched that stupid movie last January, when he’d been searching for Nicole, and she reminded him of the tragic heroine now, all sophisticated in a little black dress, but also looking like a lost child.

  Who was this woman? Was she this vulnerable waif? Or was she the warm and funny sex kitten who’d kissed him on New Year’s Eve? Or the down-to-earth, capable girl who’d been his wedding assistant? He really didn’t know. The real Nicole could be someone different, someone he hadn’t even met yet. And that was something that scared the crap out of him.

  ‘You used me,’ he said, and his anger, which had been slowly turning to embers, leaped into life again.

  She shook her head, stood up. ‘That’s not true!’

  He stared at her as she walked towards him. There’d been something bothering him, and he knew what it was now. The dress. It wasn’t the same one from New Year’s Eve. The neck was different, the skirt longer…Once again, she’d skewed his perception, making him see a mirage instead of the real thing.

  ‘Alex?’ she said, her eyes soft and her tone pleading.

  He shook his head, moved away from the entrance to the lift to give her plenty of space. ‘I don’t know who you are,’ he told her, ‘and I don’t want to.’ He rubbed his face with his hand. ‘I liked you, Nicole. Really liked you.’ He hated the way his voice had caught when he’d said her name, hated himself for being so weak, so stupid, so easily fooled again. So easily snared by a woman just using him to further her ambition, because booking Saffron must have been a plum job. ‘But I can’t be with someone like you.’

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand and punched the lift button before moving out of the way, giving her plenty of clearance.

  ‘But I think I’m—’

  ‘Goodbye, Nicole. And I don’t care what you think. I’d have rather said yes to Saffron than be with you…because at least I know what I’m getting with her.’

  She went completely still, looked at the floor for a few seconds. Just as the lift doors dinged open he thought he saw her shoulders trembling, but he turned away. He didn’t want to care if she was upset.

  He heard her shoes on the marble tiles of the lift floor, heard the muffled sniff, but still he didn’t turn. It seemed like an age before the lift doors sighed closed again. He held his breath until they did. And once the machinery had begun to whirr, he strode over to the well-stocked bar and cracked open a bottle of whisky.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Nicole stood shivering outside a boxy-looking brick building in a back street in Shoreditch. She checked the business card in her hand. Yup. This was where Alex’s studio was. To be honest, she didn’t know why she was here. It was ten o’clock on a Sunday evening. Only the completely insane would be standing out here in the light drizzle, hoping against hope he might be there.

  He was probably somewhere else. With friends. Alex had lots of friends. He probably wasn’t moping about, wondering where she was or what she was doing.

  A large breath deflated her ribcage. Just how had she come to this? Two months ago her life had been perfect, right on track.

  She hadn’t even been able to face Mum and Dad today for Sunday lunch, even though she’d said she would go. Yesterday’s events were too fresh, too raw. In the end she’d called up first thing and told them she thought she had a touch of flu. Another lie. But that was what she seemed to do best these days, wasn’t it?

  She was just about to turn round and walk the half-hour back to her flat, when a dark Jeep drove past her into the little car park round the back of the building. She thought her heart would never start beating again.

  And then there he was, striding towards her. Or striding towards the door, to be more exact. As he passed under a street light, he was looking pretty grim, even though he didn’t seem to have noticed her standing there.

  She called out to him, but it was barely more than a rasp. That was what crying half the day did for you. She tried again. ‘Alex?’

  He pivoted on the ball of his foot and stared right at her. For a moment he looked menacing, but then surprise broke through his grim expression. ‘Nicole?’

  She walked closer. ‘I—I really need to talk to you.’

  The shutters went down in his eyes. ‘I think we said all we needed to say yesterday.’

  Her insides felt as if they were melting into cold, dark goo. She closed her eyes, breathed in and took another step closer. The rain looked liked golden fuzz in the aura of the street lamp. ‘There was a lot I didn’t say. I wanted to explain—’

  He opened his mouth, but she carried on.

  ‘—and apologise.’

  He closed it again.

  ‘Please,’ she said, hating the pathetic tone of her voice.

  Alex huffed out a breath, but then stomped up some black fire-escape stairs and pulled his keys out of his pocket. ‘I must be insane,’ he mumbled, ‘but since you’re standing outside my studio in the rain late on a Sunday evening, clearly, so are you.’

  She quickly hurried after him, the high heels of her boots clonking on the stairs and echoing off the building opposite. When they got inside he hit a switch and blinding white light filled the whole room, supplied by racks of lights hanging in between the air-conditioning vents. She blinked. After the soft yellow of the street lights it seemed unbearably harsh. There were no shadows, nowhere to hide.

  Alex threw his keys on a trestle table covered with black-and-white prints then turned to face her. ‘Fire away,’ he said, folding his arms.

  This was what she’d come here for, but now the moment had arrived her mind had gone blank and her mouth had gone dry. She moistened her lips and took a deep breath.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alex. Really I am. I never wanted to lie to you.’

  He rested back against the wall. ‘Then why did you?’

  Suddenly she felt very weary. Maybe it was the walk here. Maybe it was the weight of all the lies she’d told pressing down on her. She’d thought she’d be free of them once the proposal was over, yet they seemed heavier than ever.

  ‘Confidentiality is essential in my line of work,’ she said, starting slowly. His expression didn’t soften one bit. If anything, she could tell he was inwardly shaking his head and rolling his eyes. ‘The clients who come to me are about to plan the biggest surprise of their possible future husband or wife’s lives. I cannot let the secret slip, no matter what. How can I let the client spend hundreds, sometimes thousands, of pounds only to gazump them by letting the cat out of the bag?’

  Alex shifted his weight. �
��I suppose that makes sense.’

  Okay, Nicole thought to herself, feeling her shoulders soften a little. She’d got him listening. For now.

  ‘I agreed to do the first wedding because I couldn’t think how to get out of it without giving the game away—and I needed to find out more about you, so I could plan a proposal that suited you.’

  He let out a dry, barking laugh. ‘Ha! You thought some fake trees and three hundred people I hardly knew was my dream come true? You’re worse at this than you thought!’

  Nicole flinched, but brushed the comment aside. ‘Those weren’t my original plans. Saffron was very…set…on a particular idea.’

  He laughed again, but this time there was a tell-me-about-it warmth to it. He still had his arms folded and he wasn’t smiling at her, though. She’d better carry on before her luck ran out.

  ‘And then you practically ambushed me into doing the second wedding—I really thought you might contact Beautiful Weddings if I didn’t show, and I couldn’t let you find out where I really worked. The game would have been up.’

  ‘So you said.’

  She sighed again. ‘And I tried to get out of the Wardesley job, but Brian was threatening to blackball you round town if he was a waitress down, and I…well, I’d caused you enough trouble. I didn’t want to make things worse.’

  He looked down at his boots and then up again. ‘So you’re telling me you pulled a twelve-hour day just to save my butt?’

  She nodded. ‘Sort of. I didn’t really want to, but I couldn’t see a way out of it.’ She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm. She used to be so good at seeing way, way into the future, planning ahead, but ever since she’d met Alex again she seemed to have lost the knack of navigating even the simplest situations with grace.

  ‘And I tried to get Saffron to slow down and think about what she was jumping into. I really did.’