THE next day was frantic. Barret and Anna and entourage arrived, and had to be taken through the arrangements. Then the arrangements had to be tweaked so bride and groom were happy, and those tweaks weren’t insubstantial. Guy, who’d worked with both Barret and Anna before, did the front work while Jenny stayed in the background.
Last night might not have happened. She was briskly efficient and very, very capable.
‘There’s an extra bridesmaid? Get her here by two this afternoon and we’ll fit her out. We have half a ton of pink tulle, and our seamstresses are enjoying themselves.’
‘Anna doesn’t like the wedding cake? No, that’s okay. We’ll soak it in brandy and call it Christmas pudding for the party afterwards. I can get a couple of ladies onto sponge cakes now. Have her draw up details of decorations.’
‘Gifts for the bridesmaids? Pearls? Yes, it’s too late to get seven identical necklaces locally, but I can contact a jeweller in Sydney and have them couriered.’
She reassured him every time he called her, and after every call he felt about ten years old and as if she was his schoolteacher.
That was the tone she was taking, he thought. Cool, distant and bossy.
She was also never there. Every time he found an opportunity to visit the shop she was somewhere else.
‘She hasn’t finished her Christmas shopping,’ one of the sewing ladies told him.
The three women seemed to be having a wonderful time, sitting in the back room with a vat of coffee and half a ton of chocolate biscuits, their fingers flying. ‘I think she’s gone to find a present for Lorna.’
‘Hush!’ Guy turned to the shop’s entrance to see Jack pushing Lorna’s wheelchair inside. ‘I don’t like knowing my presents before Christmas Day,’ Lorna called. ‘So if you know, don’t tell. Guy, I’m pleased we found you.’
‘I’m busy,’ he said, and then thought maybe he shouldn’t be that blunt. Jenny obviously loved this woman. It was just…Lorna was part of the family thing that was threatening to engulf him.
‘I won’t hold you up,’ Lorna replied, her voice holding a hint of reproof. ‘And I’m not asking any favours, so you can stop looking like that. We just called to remind you that you’re doing the Santa run in your Ferrari tomorrow. You need to be at our place at nine. Henry’s really looking forward to it.’
Hell, he’d forgotten. He’d also forgotten Henry’s face when he’d thought it might happen.
But…
Why not ignore a few buts here? he told himself. He could do this. It didn’t mean getting emotionally involved-or any more emotionally involved than he already was.
Okay, he’d do it, and then he’d walk away. He’d moved his return flight to the day after Christmas. His escape route was organised.
How could you ask a woman to marry you and then look forward to getting back to your own life?
He was having an internal conversation, watched by Lorna and Jack and three seamstresses, but the conversation went on regardless.
Easy, he told himself. I didn’t ask to join her life. I asked if she’d join mine.
No wonder she refused you.
‘Fine,’ he managed, and if he sounded ungracious he couldn’t help himself. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Great,’ Jack said warmly. ‘We’ll hang up a stocking for you.’
‘A stocking?’
‘Wait and see,’ Lorna said. ‘Our Santa does the best stockings.’
‘He’s still coming for Christmas dinner?’
‘Of course he is. He promised. And he’s coming at nine for stockings. He’s cute,’ Lorna told her daughter-in-law. ‘He drives a wonderful car. Henry thinks he’s the ant’s pants.’
‘Guy Carver is not the ant’s pants. He is an American billionaire who happens to be my boss…’
‘I’m sewing him a stocking.’
‘Lorna, he can’t have a stocking.’
‘Everyone in the whole world needs a stocking. Now, what will Santa put in it?’