Last-Minute Bridesmaid (6 page)

Saskia gave a dramatic shiver. ‘Hugo the horrible stalker. How could I forget—but you seem to have missed something out.’

‘His dress sense. All black single-breasted suits. Purrleese.’

‘Actually, I was referring to the fact that he is both lustalicious and you like him. You like him a lot and you always have.’

‘That’s two things. I liked the old Heath who I met when I was seventeen and he was young and free and his mum was still around. That was eleven years ago, Saskia. We’ve both changed more than we could ever have imagined.’

‘Um. Something tells me that he hasn’t changed that much—he’s still the same charmer underneath those executive suits.’

‘I’m not so sure,’ Kate sniffed. ‘You heard what Amber said last night. Heath has been through an awful lot in the past ten years. First his mum’s death, then his dad’s love life, not to mention taking on a complete part of the family business on his own. That’s a lot of weight for anyone to carry.’

‘This is a wedding, Kate, not a business conference. You’re going to have a great time.’

Kate opened her mouth, ready to agree with what Saskia had said, but all she could see in her head was that tension behind his smile. He was hiding something.

‘Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll let you know more on Monday.’

‘Your studio. Ten a.m.—I’ll bring the chocolate cake.’

‘You’re on.’ Kate smiled. ‘But I really should get ready, because it has to be almost ten by now.’

‘Ten? Make that half ten.’

‘What!’ Kate replied and leapt to her feet. ‘Why didn’t you warn me? You know that my nana’s old watch runs slow. And Heath is bound to be punctual. Oh, no! I need to do something with my hair. And shoes. I need shoes. Saskia!’

‘Slow down. You’re all packed and lovely. I checked your case and you have clean underwear and “kiss me until I die” shoes. All ready and waiting in the hallway.
You are going to have a fantastic time!
Now, you go upstairs and get sorted and I’ll guard the...’

She hadn’t even finished speaking when the front doorbell sounded and the clock in the hall chimed the half hour.

Kate didn’t wait to reply and shot past Saskia, who was on her feet and strolling to the door. As Kate pulled on white capri trousers, a white and navy blue striped sailor top and navy lace-up shoes, she could hear Saskia chatting to someone and she peeked out of the corner of her bedroom curtains.

Blood rushed to her head.

A long slick black limousine was parked half on the pavement and half on the street in her narrow side road, which had been designed for the width of two horses pulling carriages.

She couldn’t travel in a limo! And what would the neighbours think?

Oh, no
—
too late.
The antique dealer who had the shop next door was already outside and peering into the shaded windows. Any minute now some uniformed chauffeur with a peaked cap was going to step out from the driver’s side and wave a sub-machine gun around.

Well, good luck with that. Because his shop was full of tat and had one customer a week. If he was lucky.

Still. It was going to be weird having a new neighbour after twelve years.

And he did order six pairs of cream fine suede gloves every Christmas.

Kate sniffed. She hated change. It was so unsettling. Why couldn’t things stay the same? Steady. Calm. After the chaos of her day job, it was actually quite nice to come home to her version of stability every night.

‘Kate!’ Saskia hissed from over her shoulder. ‘Stop gawping out of the window and get yourself down here pronto. Otherwise Heath is going to be sitting in your parlour. There isn’t room for a hunk that size in your kitchen and I can’t leave him standing at the door much longer.’

‘Don’t you dare, Elwood!’ Kate cried out and jumped off the bed. ‘That parlour is my sacred space. No boys or any other type of person allowed.’

‘Then move.’ Saskia grinned, then started fanning herself with one hand. ‘You’re keeping the hot millionaire publisher and his limo waiting.’ Her laugh escaped with a loud snort and she ducked and grabbed Kate’s huge shoulder bag and took off down to the hallway.

‘Oh, thanks. That is just what I need to put me at ease,’ Kate huffed and tugged on a cut-off navy cotton jacket with gold buttons and epaulets. A navy and white silk scarf. Mother-of-pearl sarong clip to keep it all in place. One liberal spray of the old-fashioned floral vanilla fragrance that her grandmother had worn all of her life and she was good to go.

Kate took one final glance in the dressing table mirror and turned sideways before grinning at her reflection and winking.

She couldn’t think about Amber’s warning about Heath. She had to push down the flicker of apprehension and make the best of this wedding, one way or another, for the sake of her business.

Limos. Manor houses. Hot millionaires. Oh, yes!
Bring it on.

FIVE

Heath kept losing
his place in the financial report he had brought to read. Or maybe he was too distracted to make the effort to find it. Every time he started to work, he was interrupted by chatter, exclamations of excitement and questions from his travelling companion. But one thing had rapidly become only too clear.

He had never met anyone like Kate Lovat.

It was no doubt a lady’s right to wear fragrance which filled the car with the smell of flower gardens in summer and not even the excellent air conditioning could cope with the way it seemed to linger on Kate’s jacket and hair so that every time she moved a new waft came in his direction.

And she did move around.
A lot.

Kate Lovat was an expert in the fine art of fidgeting.

The girl simply could not keep still.

She had explored every inch of the car in intimate detail before they had negotiated the narrow street where she lived. The drinks cabinet and mini refrigerator had been particularly fascinating but she had soon moved on to the personal control settings and pressed every button and toggled every switch in the car like a toddler high on fizzy drinks packed full of sugar and artificial colours.

It was a new experience for him to meet a girl who had such an open and childlike enthusiasm for the new and was not afraid to express it.

The publishing professionals and booksellers he met in his work were focused on their careers and business plans. All working, heads down, all driven by a common passion for great books.
Eyes on the prize.

Kate was like a squirrel. Leaping around on her seat as they passed one London landmark and then another, apparently only too happy to give him the complete tourist guide to the city he rarely visited these days and, when he did, it was only for business.

To Kate, London was a city of constant delight and amazement.

Heath tugged hard at the cuffs of his long-sleeved Sea Island cotton shirt, which had come from his favourite London tailor. His father had been the one who had decided almost a year earlier that he would open the London office and create a new marketing unit geared towards Europe and the Middle East.

Maybe it was simply coincidence that his father had started dating Alice Jardine again about a year ago?

Or maybe the London office was the excuse he needed to stay in England instead of working out of the Boston office where the company was based?

The team there rarely saw him these days and, for a private company in a challenging business environment, the one thing the employees needed was to see the company owner in his office or walking in the print room, talking to them and reassuring them that they had a future.

Not happenimg. Not yet at least.

But once this wedding was over...then they would have the talk.

Once the wedding was over.

Heath abandoned his report onto his seat table. Who was he kidding? It was never going to be over. Alice would be in Boston, living in the family house where he had grown up. And his dad would be even more distracted than ever, trying to keep his new bride happy.

The cellphone in the inside pocket of his suit jacket beeped discreetly and Heath glanced at the caller display before answering it.

‘Good morning, Lucas,’ he said, picking up the call and looking out of the window at the motorway verges. ‘Or should that be good afternoon in Hong Kong?’

There was a guffaw down the phone from the jovial Canadian with a passion for books and selling them. ‘Hot and humid afternoon. How about you? All gathered for the big wedding?’

‘On my way now.’ Heath smiled. ‘So you would make my day if you told me that the meeting with the distributor went well yesterday.’ There was just enough of a pause for Heath to take a breath. ‘Talk to me, Lucas. What are the customers telling you?’

‘It’s the same story I had last week. Our competitors are stealing the market with enhanced digital versions of the printed academic textbooks. You know how students love visuals and they are so loaded up with technology these days.’ Lucas sighed down the phone. ‘I have been promising our customers some news on the new lines for over a year now, Heath, and your dad won’t budge. I know this might not be the best time to bring it up again, but seeing as he is going to be in such a good mood...it has to be worth a try.’

Heath pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Leave it with me, Lucas,’ he replied in a low voice, trying to conceal his disappointment. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

‘Great, that’s great, Heath,’ Lucas replied a little too quickly and with enough tension in his voice to make Heath sit up a little straighter in his seat. ‘But...there is something else you should know about. It’s only a rumour, and you know what terrible gossips publishers are, but I heard it twice at the trade fair yesterday. You might want to check it out with the team.’

Heath ran his tongue over his suddenly parched lips. ‘Oh, I think I have heard just about every possible gloom-and-doom scenario these past few months. What’s the latest?’

‘Only this. Sheridan Press is planning to move the printing operation overseas to cut down on production costs. It would be a shame—the Boston print works is a great selling point. But, hey—you know how rumours spread—there is probably nothing to it. I’ll call you next week with the updates from the Beijing Book Fair. Have a great wedding!’

‘Bye, Lucas. Thanks.’ Heath snapped down the lid on his phone and held it in the palm of his hand.

Move Sheridan Press.
This was the
last
thing that he wanted to happen.

And if the rumour was true?
If.
Then his father had kept his plans for the company a secret from the one person he had brought in to help turn it around. All the work that Heath had done with Lucas and their team had been geared to promoting books which would be printed by the loyal employees who had given Sheridan Press the best years of their lives.

Suddenly it felt as though the air conditioning had been switched to Arctic ice and a shiver ran across his shoulders. His shirt felt damp with cold sweat in the hollow of his back and his collar was trying to strangle him. Breaking the habit of a lifetime, Heath loosened the Windsor knot in his silk tie and unfastened the top button on his shirt, desperate to get some air into his lungs.

Have a great wedding. Yeah. Right.

Suddenly all of the missed phone calls and unanswered emails made sense. Charles Sheridan was well known for being low-key but Heath knew better than most that beneath that quiet, introspective grey-suited executive was a sharp and scheming brain.

So much for working together.

He had been a fool to allow ridiculous sentimentality back into his life. Memories of a happy childhood were just that—memories. For children who had no control over what happened to them.

Stupid!
He had left his own company in the hands of the management team—and for what? To help out the man who had cheated on his wife with Alice Jardine and then married Julia Swan within twelve months of his wife’s funeral? The man who had barely spoken to him in over a decade and then suddenly wanted to be reconciled and play dad?

Well, maybe his son and heir wasn’t ready to be made a fool of.

The fire that had been burning inside Heath’s belly turned into a furnace. Molten lava flowed through his veins and he felt his teeth grind together in frustration.

The surprises still kept coming, no matter how hard he fought to control his world.

His gaze fixed on a spot on the road ahead of them as the car took the motorway exit and stopped at a roundabout for a few minutes in the busy traffic before heading down a country road.

For one full second he thought about telling the driver that he had changed his mind and to take him straight back to the airport. And there would be a bonus if he broke the speed limit to get there. Why not? He had his luggage and passport. He could do what he wanted and go wherever he pleased.

But he wouldn’t. And he couldn’t. He had given a commitment to the printers who had made Sheridan Press one of the most respected names in the world.
And Heath always, always kept his word.

He could not go anywhere—
until he found out whether there was any truth behind this rumour or not. By talking to his father. Man to man.

* * *

It took a not so gentle pat on the arm to bring him back to the reality of a car on a road and the fact that he was not travelling alone—which was very unusual.

‘Erm...Heath? I think your tie surrendered five minutes ago. It would be kinder to say goodbye and put it out of its misery rather than see it suffer any longer.’

His tie? What?

His gaze followed hers. Onto what had been a burgundy Italian silk tie from a top designer in Milan, which Olivia had given him as a Christmas present last year when they had first started dating and the chance of a real relationship seemed tantalisingly close.

Now his fingers were wrapped tightly around a screwed-up piece of rag which been twisted and torn until the life had been squeezed out of it.

His teeth clenched shut to suppress the expletive that was forming at the back of his throat.
Unbelievable!

Kate put both fingers into her ears and hummed a pop tune. ‘Can’t hear a thing. Just get it out of your system. You’ll feel much better.’

Heath looked at Kate, who had turned away and was still humming to herself, looked at the tie and then slowly, slowly exhaled the breath that he had not even realised he had been holding in.

Kate was looking out of the window with a beaming grin of childlike wonder on her face, transforming her from pretty into the kind of woman worthy of more than only a second look. Or even a third?

In her warehouse studio he had not missed the fact that Kate was the kind of pretty girl who looked good without make-up, but in the morning sunlight her skin appeared pale and translucent, in contrast to the bright sparkling green of those amazing eyes. But it was her smile, her bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked smile that hit him hard in the bottom of his stomach.

This version of Kate Lovat was a stunner.

Something twisted inside Heath’s gut and he swallowed hard.

When was the last time he had taken the time to meet a woman outside the publishing world? A real woman like Kate? A woman whose life was as different as it could be from his relentless working hours and the endless battering of information and words.

He would give a lot to spend time getting to know this girl and find out what it was like to have one of those smiles aimed in his direction.

Except he did not have the time. He only had a few days before he needed to get back to Boston to carry out some serious damage limitation.

Olivia was right. His work had always been more important than their relationship. Strange. He had never been ready to acknowledge that fact before today and now it seemed to be staring him in the face.

He had spent the last ten years fighting each and every day to take control over his life in every way possible. His work. The people he worked with and even the women he dated. The way he lived and dressed—all tightly controlled.

Until he’d made the decision to move out of that life and try and reconnect with his father.

He chose to make that change.

His choice. His problem. And if his father was trying to use his sentimental need to be a son against him? He would deal with it.

So instead of punching the air or causing even more damage to his teeth by grinding them to powder in frustration, he slowly and carefully undid his tie, pulled it out from under the shirt collar and folded it into a neat coil on the leather seat.

Heath lifted his chin and was about to thank Kate when a crystal tumbler of sparkling liquid was thrust into his hand.

‘Tonic water on the rocks. Enjoy.’

His first reaction was to pass it back with a cutting comment about how he would ask for a drink if he needed one. Except that his throat felt as though he had inhaled half of the Sahara desert. He did need a drink. Rather urgently.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered in a rasp and took one long slug and then another until the tumbler was drained.

‘Excellent. Because I have made you another one. And you are most welcome. It is not every day that I get to play barmaid in a limo. I rather like it. Even if the entertainment is a little more action-packed than I would have liked,’ Kate quipped with a casual tone.

‘Entertainment?’ he replied in a much better voice and took a long sip of the cool drink and then another before turning slightly to look at her.

Kate was perched rather than sitting on the front edge of her seat, her hands folded neatly on top of a pad of drawing paper covered with markings. There was a pencil stuck behind her right ear and she was wearing spectacles. Rimless clear spectacles today, but spectacles all the same.

His gaze scanned her outfit, which he had been too distracted to notice properly before now. She was neat, beautifully groomed and as nicely dressed as any of Amber’s friends. But different. Quirky. And there was definitely something in those eyes, which he suddenly realised were really quite a remarkable shade of green that told him that Amber’s school friend was as observant and intelligent as any one of his team.

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘At least I found it entertaining.’ Then her eyebrows lifted and she shook her head. ‘I should make it clear that I don’t usually listen to other people’s telephone conversations but it is difficult not to eavesdrop when you are sitting a couple of inches away and bellowing about rumours about the company. I don’t know what the rumours are all about—’ she spread out one hand and waggled it from side to side ‘—but it sounded, well, dodgy to me.’

‘Dodgy?’ He choked on an ice chip and held up one hand when she moved forward to thump him. ‘Not at all,’ he coughed and spluttered. ‘And I was not bellowing. I don’t bellow. Bellowing is not my style.’

‘How foolish of me. You were simply expressing your excitement and enthusiasm for the topic,’ Kate said with a smile but one side of her mouth was turned up. She had a dimple in her cheek.