Two Weddings and a Fugitive (The Chanel Series Book 4) (6 page)

‘It’s six o’clock and you’re on a tropical island. Where else would you be?’

She had a very good point.

‘Don’t worry. I see you.’

What?
I swung around, with the phone still pressed to my ear, and there she was. She tottered through the growing crowd on the Nine West pumps she had purchased in Las Vegas. Her black dress showed off her shapely legs and matched her black, bob wig.

‘Maaarrrtiiiiine,’ Mum shrieked. She launched herself into Martine’s arms and the two of them jumped up and down like giddy school girls.

‘At least someone’s pleased to see me,’ Martine said when she had finished jumping.

‘I’m pleased,’ I said. ‘Surprised but pleased.’

‘You don’t look surprised,’ she said to Billy, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

‘I had a feeling we’d be seeing you.’ He gave her a slow, sexy smile.

‘What are you drinking?’ Harry asked her.

She pointed to my cocktail and then pulled me to the side. ‘Boris is coming,’ she whispered.

‘I know. That’s why I’m here. To protect Matt.’

She shook her head. ‘He’s coming for
us
.’

I had been taking a sip of my drink. Now, instead of swallowing it, I found myself inhaling it. Alcohol burst from my mouth and nose as I started to cough. Martine thumped me on the back while I made noises similar to what I imagine a choking camel would make.

Finally, when I could breathe again, I said, ‘What do you mean for
us
?’

‘That’s what Crusty told me.’

‘How would he know?’

‘Word on the street is that when they searched the cell Boris had been in before they moved him, they found Matt’s newspaper clipping.’

‘Billy said he had drawn a skull and cross bones next to Matt’s name.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, but did he tell you Boris had circled the bit about us and written the word ‘kill’ next to it?’

All the air in my lungs escaped in a whoosh. Boris was coming to kill us. ‘Don’t panic,’ I said as black dots danced in front of my eyes. ‘The cops won’t let that happen.’

‘Urrrr, Chanel.’ Martine put a hand on my arm to steady me. ‘You
are
a cop.’

‘Damn it. It slips my mind in moments of extreme terror.’

Merriment danced across Martine’s handsome face.

‘Here you go.’ Harry handed her a drink and we followed him back to where Billy and Mum were talking.

‘So,’ Mum said, ‘what are you up to tomorrow?’

Trying not to get killed.
‘Bridesmaid’s dress fitting.’

‘Oooh.’ Martine clapped her hands together. ‘Sounds like fun. Can I come?’

I looked over at Billy. He gave me a slight nod, which was good because I was bringing her with or without his permission. Safety in numbers and all that jazz.

Dinner was a far less painful event than I had imagined. Having Martine there helped take away from the pure romantic energy that Mum and Harry were emitting. And it meant that at the end, when the two of them were holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, that I wasn’t left staring into Billy’s.

We were back at our accommodation by nine-thirty. I was guessing from the loud snores issuing forth from Nick’s room that he was fast asleep.

Light still shone out from under Salindra’s door but she didn’t come out to see us.

I put my bag in my room and thought about changing into my nightie, but decided to get a glass of water from the kitchen before I did. I didn’t bother turning on the light as I padded across the cool tiles, expecting my eyes to have refocused in the dim light by the time I got there.

That was a mistake. If I had, I would have seen that Billy was already there. As it was, I didn’t see him until he turned from the sink and walked towards me.

I let out a yelp and clutched at my chest where my heart was trying to make its way through my ribs. ‘Didn’t see you,’ I said.

‘Thought I was Boris?’

‘Something like that.’

‘He’s a lot taller than I am.’

Have you ever noticed that when someone mentions their height, you can’t help but look them up-and-down? Well I did that now, and as I did, my eyes finished adjusting to the light.

Billy wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pyjama pants, though, were looking pretty damn fine as they gripped the taut muscles of his stomach. My eyes tracked up those muscles, like a train over railway sleepers, to where his pectoral muscles sat. His nipples were rock hard.

Oh boy. I really needed that drink of water. And maybe a long, cold shower.

But my eyes hadn’t finished with Billy. They swept up to his collar bones, admired how his neck flared to his shoulders, and then continued on to his chin and finally his lips. And they did it all by themselves, with no permission from me.

Yep,
I
was behaving myself but those bad boys were doing whatever they wanted. Heaven forbid if my hands got on board with my eyes.

‘Thirsty,’ I managed to croak through my desperately-dry mouth. I licked my lips and froze. God, I hope he didn’t think I was a pervert.

‘Here.’ He held his glass out to me, his fingers felt feverishly hot as they brushed mine.

‘Thanks.’ I drained it like a bogan in a beer-drinking contest. ‘Well, I’d better get off, I mean
be
off. Big day tomorrow.’ I placed the glass on the counter and turned for my room.

‘Chanel.’ When he lowered his voice it got even huskier. He
really
wasn’t helping.

‘Hmmmm?’ I half turned back toward him.

He stared at me for a few seconds and then said, ‘Sleep tight.’

‘Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’ I turned and continued to my room.

Yep, nothing to see here. Just a brother and sister wishing each other goodnight.

Billy was already gone when I hopped up in the morning. I was pretty happy about that. I didn’t think I would be able to look him in the eye after the heated dreams I’d had about him. Well about him and me. Together. Scantily clad.

Phew.
And thoughts like that weren’t going to help me behave like a functioning adult.

‘What’s up Toots?’

Yep, those were the first words I heard that morning.

‘Not much Nicky,’ I said. Thankfully I’d had the foresight to change my nightie for shorts and a shirt before I’d headed for the bathroom.

Nick was chowing down on a bowl of cereal, milk dribbling down his chin and onto the table. If I
had
been hungry it would have put me right off my food.

‘Where’s Salindra?’

‘Barbie and Billy went for a run.’

Did they now?
Huh.
It wasn’t like I was the jealous possessive type, but I would be happier if she were at least a hundred paces from Billy at all times.

‘He said to tell you he’d see you at dinner tonight.’ His mouth stretched into a grin and some cereal slopped back into the bowl. ‘Our first official social event as boyfriend and girlfriend. Perhaps we should practise holding hands today.’

‘Today?’

‘Yeah. Thought we could spend some quality time together.’

He was kidding. Right?

‘I’ve got a bridesmaid-dress fitting and lunch with the mother-of-the-bride.’

‘Bridesmaids.’ He spooned another mouthful of cereal into his mouth. ‘Perfect. Me and Nick Junior will fit right in.’

‘Who’s Nick Junior?’ I had a vision of another, even smaller Nick running around. Kind of like a set of babushka dolls.

He smiled, glanced down, and I got it.

‘Oh Euuwwwww. You and Nick…Junior,’ I flapped my hands at him, ‘can stay away from the bridesmaids.’

He pouted. ‘Typical broad. No fun at all.’

‘You’re not going to be a very convincing boyfriend if you try to hit on the bridesmaids.’ A get-out-of-jail-free thought struck me. ‘In fact, you’re not going to be able to crack onto anybody at all. Are you Poochy-Bear?’ I said the last bit in a cute, little-girl voice.

He put his spoon down in his bowl and wiped the back of his arm across his face. ‘You’re not even my real girlfriend and already you’re cramping my style.’

‘We can fix that.’ I crossed to the table and sat down. It was time to negotiate.

‘Fix what?’ He was understandably suspicious.

‘Me, cramping your style.’ I smiled and rested the palms of my hands flat on the table. ‘What if the people we met today were to accidentally get the impression that you weren’t my boyfriend?’

‘What if they did?’ He said it slowly, as if looking for a trap.

‘Well, then it would be too late to change that. We wouldn’t want to blow our cover now would we?’ If we did it right, Billy wouldn’t be able to make us continue this ridiculous charade.

‘So what would I be?’

I stopped myself from saying small child –
that
wasn’t going to help my cause. ‘Cousin?’

‘Why would you bring your cousin to a wedding?’ He had a point.

‘Urm. Best-friend?’ The word squeaked out.

‘I don’t know if we’d be able to carry that one off.’ He sat back and put his arms behind his head, muttering to himself for a few moments before he stopped and smacked his hand on the table. ‘I’m your plus one,’ he pointed at me, ‘cause
you’re
too pathetic to have a boyfriend.’

‘I don’t know if we need to say that.’

‘That you’re pathetic?’

‘Yes that.’

‘But you
don’t
have a boyfriend.’

‘Maybe we should just go with the original plan.’

‘If you want, Poochey-Bear.’ He blew me a noisy kiss.

I snorted out through my nose. ‘Fine. I’m too pathetic to have a boyfriend.’ It was better than holding his hand.

He smiled and, picking up his spoon, started to shove soggy cereal into his mouth again.

I had a shower and pulled on a sundress and sandals. I’d arranged to meet Martine on the way to the dress fitting and didn’t want to be late.

Billy and Salindra still weren’t back from their run. That put me in an even fouler mood than my failed negotiations had.

Nick was waiting for me by the front door.

‘Where are you going?’ I asked him.

‘Dress-fitting and then lunch. With you.’ Bits of breakfast were still stuck on his teeth.

I thought about telling him but decided it would be more humiliating if he discovered it himself – much later. ‘But you don’t have to. I’m not your girlfriend.’

‘You’re my link to the bridesmaids.’

‘Seriously?’

‘They don’t call me the Nickavator for nothing.’

‘I’m pretty sure they don’t call you the Nickavator at all.’

He opened the door and scampered down the path towards the golf buggies. ‘You can drive,’ he said, throwing the keys far enough in front of me that I had to bend to retrieve them.

I was about to make some smart comment about how he wasn’t very manly if he was happy to have me drive him around, when I realised something. His legs were too short to reach the pedals. And annoying as he was, I didn’t feel right pointing out something like that.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Men make better navigators anyway.’

He flashed me his first genuine smile and jumped up onto the passenger seat.

I pulled the little buggy out onto the main road and turned right.

‘The dress-fitting is that way.’ Nick pointed to the left.

‘Yes but we’re picking up my friend first. She said she’d be down at the waterfront.’

‘You’re the driver.’ He stuck his feet up on the dash and put his hands behind his head.

I had an urge to slam on the brakes, just to see what would happen, but I managed to restrain myself.

Martine was waiting outside the restaurant we had eaten in the night before. I pulled the little buggy up next to her and said, ‘Morning.’

‘That’s your friend?’ Nick peered out past the top of the buggy up at her.

‘Martine, this is Nick. Nick, meet Martine.’

‘Would you mind terribly getting into the back?’ Martine asked. She waved her handbag as if to shoo him out of her seat.

‘I was here first.’ He put his feet back up on the dash.

‘Well obviously. But there appears to be more leg room in the front.’

Nick looked over the seat into the back and said, ‘Yep. Heaps more room.’

‘You’re not going to move are you?’ Martine crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

‘Not for you, Big Bird.’

‘Why you little Squirt,’ Martine said.

‘That’s the best you got?’ He swivelled around and jumped out of the buggy to stand in front of her. I was reminded of a Jack Russell terrier facing off against a Great Dane.

He danced from side-to-side whilst waving his little fists at her.

‘Stay still so I can stand on you,’ she said, swiping her bag at him. She turned her body as if following his movements, but as soon as he was on the other side of her, she spun and jumped into the front seat.

‘Cheat,’ he yelled. ‘Come back out and settle this man-to-man.’

Martine wiggled the tips of her fingers at him in a wave. ‘I’m a lady,’ she said. ‘I don’t beat up animals or small children.’

‘Are you saying I’m an animal?’

‘Nick,’ I barked. ‘Get back in the buggy.’

‘What you going to do if I don’t?’

‘Well, I guess you and Nick Junior don’t get to meet the pretty bridesmaids.’

He huffed and clambered into the back of the golf buggy.

‘Anyway,’ Martine continued. ‘One of my best friends is an animal.’

‘Let me guess. An orangutan?’

Martine swivelled to look at him. ‘You know Boo Boo?’

Nick shook his head. ‘You two are freaks.’

‘And we’re going to be late,’ I said, starting the cart up.

I’ve got to give it to that cart, it might not have been the fastest puma in the pack, but it could turn on a dime. Martine squealed and put a hand to her wig as we left rubber on the road. Well, maybe the rubber was more metaphorical than real, but I could feel a fiendish grin on my face as we roared towards the hill. And then, of course, we hit the hill and the engine started to labour.

‘We’d make better time if we ditched Gigantore,’ Nick said.

Martine snorted but I ignored him. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pass him off as my Plus One with him being so antagonistic.

‘Are all golf buggies this slow?’ Martine leant forward in her seat as if to help the machine in its climb.

‘Don’t know. Never driven one before.’ I pressed my foot down harder but I was already wringing as much as I could from the little beast.

‘Martyn played golf once, but he wouldn’t get in one of these. Far too dangerous.’

It was my turn to snort. Martine’s alter-ego Martyn was scared of everything.

‘Why did he only play once?’

‘He worked out the probability of getting hit in the head by a ball. Said it was too high.’

‘How high was it?’ Nick’s sudden interest in the conversation should have warned me he was up to something.

‘How should I know? I wasn’t the one who worked it out.’

‘I’ve heard it’s pretty high.’ There was laughter in Nick’s voice. ‘Like I think the probability of you getting hit in the head by a golf ball before we make it to the dress fitting is one hundred percent.’

‘Don’t be absurd. The golf course is on the other side of the…Ouch.’ Martine put her hand to the side of her head and Nick let out an evil laugh. ‘You little beast,’ she said. ‘You did that on purpose.’ There was a little clunky noise. ‘Owwww. Stop it.’

I pivoted to look back at Nick. He had a grin on his face and a golf ball in his hand.

‘Give that to me.’ Martine grabbed for the ball but Nick slid to my side of the cart so he was out of her reach.

‘Chanel,’ Martine wailed as Nick threw another ball at her. ‘Make him stop. Eeekkk.’ She pointed out the front of the cart and I pivoted back around. We were heading for the shrubs on the far side of the road.

‘Honestly Nick.’ I swerved the buggy back to our lane. ‘It’s like having a Gremlin on board.’

He let out another giggle. ‘If you want to sit in the front, you gotta take the risks.’

‘Fine,’ she said in a huffy voice. ‘You can have the front next.’

‘I want it the next two times.’

‘That’s not fair. We need to take turns.’

I swivelled to see him brandishing another ball at her.

‘Fine. Next two times. But then it’s my turn again.’

‘Deal.’ He put the ball back into a bag attached to the back of the front seat, spat in his hand and held it out to her.

She spat in hers and shook.

‘There’s alcohol wipes in my bag. Not saying either of you
need
them,’ I said, ‘but you might want to partake of my offer before we eat lunch.’

***

A few minutes later, I pulled the buggy into a spot in front of the hotel Matt and Tara were staying at. Before we had stopped completely, Nick jumped out of the buggy.

‘Oh boy.’ He scampered towards the entrance. ‘Bridesmaids.’

Martine looked over at me. ‘When you said he was short, I didn’t realise you meant
short
.’

‘Really? My use of the words ‘dwarf’ and ‘little person’ didn’t clue you in?’

‘I thought you were exaggerating for my entertainment. What was Billy thinking?’ She climbed out of the buggy.

‘No idea.’

‘Were you exaggerating about his partner?’ We walked up the path to the hotel entry.

‘Sadly, no. Think Swimsuit Barbie meets Lawyer Barbie.’

She giggled. ‘What do you care? He’s your brother, remember?’

‘O M G.’ I stared at her. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten to tell her.

The door popped open and Nick stuck his head out and hollered, ‘Getting old in here.’

‘I suspect I may tire of his company,’ Martine said.

‘Martine.’ I tugged on her hand, pulling her down so her head was at my mouth height. ‘He’s not my brother,’ I whispered.

‘Now, now.’ She patted my hand. ‘I know it’s been a tough couple of months but you’re going to have to accept….’

‘Harry told me,’ I hissed. ‘Dick was Billy’s real father.’

She stared at me with her mouth wide open. ‘So…you and he can.’ She banged her fists together a couple of times.

I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I don’t know what that means.’

‘You two can finish your sex talk later,’ Nick yelled.

‘Oh.’ Still holding her hand, I pulled her up the path with me. ‘He doesn’t know. Harry is going to tell him, but he wants to have a family holiday first.’

‘He’s worried how he’ll take it?’

I nodded. We were within Nick’s hearing now and I felt it prudent to stop talking. Goodness knows what he would do with information like that.

‘First floor,’ Nick said. ‘This way.’ He led us down the hotel hall, past the reception and up a flight of stairs. He stopped in front of a conference room door. ‘Babcock and King’ was written on the door.

I smoothed down my dress and tidied my hair. ‘It’s show time,’ I said as I lifted a hand and pushed open the door.

The room had been turned into a makeshift dressmaker’s. A tall sophisticated-looking woman who appeared to be in her early forties stood in the middle of the room. An azure dress clung to the sweeps of her athletic frame. I admired the feathery cut of her chin-length, blonde hair.

Another woman, with pins sticking out from between her teeth, squatted in front of her tucking up the hem of the dress.

I let out an inaudible sigh of relief. I’d been worried the dress would be awful. Instead, the strapless bodice tucked into the waist and then the skirt, overlaid with lace the same colour, fell to the floor. The main material was slashed at an angle from the knee so that one calf was visible through the lace.

I took all of that in, in the first second, then I moved on to the rest of the room. Some seats had been gathered into a half-circle and a group of women were watching the dress alterations.

When I stepped into the room, one of them stood up and walked towards me. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy pony-tail and she wore cargo pants, a tank top and thongs. Her pretty face lit up with her smile as she held out both her hands to take one of mine.