Wedding Promises. Jennifer Faye
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the need for something a little smarter. They weren’t even all that high—certainly lower and more sensible than Melissa’s expensive spike-heeled boots—but apparently running around Morwen Hall in them all day had beaten her feet into submission. She was ready to retire to the tiny bedrooms they kept for staff members working big events and soak her feet in the not quite full-size bath for an hour or two. Preferably while eating chocolate and sipping red wine.
But, instead, she still had a few more guests to welcome and show to their rooms—including the brother of the groom, who still didn’t know his room had been taken over by Riley himself. In all the chaos, Eloise still hadn’t found a solution to that either. Unless he wanted her room, and she’d just have to sleep behind the reception desk. She certainly couldn’t risk going home, not while Melissa was on the premises. As much as Eloise trusted her deputy manager, she wouldn’t leave anyone to deal with Melissa alone.
Wearily, Eloise stepped back behind the reception desk and, once she was sure no one could see, slipped her feet from her shoes and let the cool stone floor soothe her feet through her tights. That was better.
For a moment, she honestly believed she might get a small break in the craziness of the day to get herself together before the nightmare of the welcome drinks that evening.
Until Melissa’s scream cut through the air.
Eloise let her eyes flutter closed just for a moment as she steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. When she opened them again, Melissa was bustling across the lobby, a towel wrapped around her hair, wearing a coat and boots over black silky leggings and a matching top that Melissa obviously classed as loungewear, and probably cost more than Eloise earned in a month.
‘Is something the matter, Melissa?’ Eloise asked in her calmest, everything-will-be-fine voice. Inside, she just prayed that whatever the problem was, it wasn’t the Gatehouse. If Melissa had a problem with the Bridal Suite they really were in trouble.
‘It’s Cassidy!’ Melissa shrieked. ‘She just called from Aspen! She’s broken her leg on the slopes!’
‘Cassidy,’ Eloise repeated, her mind running through the guest list again in the hope that this might mean she had a spare room after all... ‘Wait, your maid of honour Cassidy?’
‘Yes!’ Eloise winced as the pitch of Melissa’s voice reached parts only dogs could hear.
Okay, that was a problem. But Eloise was sure one of Melissa’s other celebrity bridesmaids would be willing to step up to the job. And in the meantime... ‘Does that mean she and her family won’t be attending the wedding after all?’
And I can give their room to Riley’s brother?
Melissa gave her one of those were-you-born-this-stupid looks that Eloise had learned to hate during their childhood. ‘Of course they’re coming. Well, not Cassidy—apparently she can’t fly. But Dillon—her husband—will still be here. He says he’s bringing an “old friend” actually.’ The way she said it, Eloise could actually hear the air quotes around the words. She tried not to pull a face, but clearly she was never going to understand celebrity marriages. Who brought their mistress to a friend’s wedding when their wife was laid up in hospital?
A melodic chiming noise filled the lobby and Melissa shoved one perfectly manicured hand into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone.
‘Kerry? Thank God you called back. Did you hear about Cassidy? Well, what do I do? When are you getting here, anyway? Tomorrow! I need a new maid of honour before tomorrow!’
Kerry, Eloise recalled from many contract negotiations and emails, was Melissa’s agent. Why she was the first port of call in a maid of honour crisis, Eloise wasn’t sure. But she suspected it was another one of those things she didn’t understand about Hollywood.
‘Someone who knew me back when? You think we should play up the “local girl made good” angle?’ Melissa asked, not bothering to lower her voice at all. ‘Isn’t it enough that I came back to this dump in the first place?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, fine. If that’s what you think will sell. Yeah, I’ll ask her. Okay. Bye.’
Dump? Had Melissa really just called Morwen Hall a dump? It might not have been the peak of luxury ten years ago, but these days it was spectacular.
She was so annoyed she was still grinding her teeth in annoyance when Melissa turned back to the reception desk and said, ‘Right, change of plan. You’re my new maid of honour.’
Eloise blinked. ‘What?’
‘You.’ Melissa pointed at Eloise, jabbing a nail against her breastbone. ‘You’re going to put on the very expensive pretty dress I’ve already paid for and walk down the aisle in front of me. You’re going to smile for the cameras. You’re going to say wonderful things about me, and tell the reporter covering this wedding how close we were growing up, and how Hollywood hasn’t changed me at all. Okay?’
‘Why?’ Eloise asked, baffled. Then, as she stared down Melissa’s frown, she figured it out. ‘This is because of all those articles lately, isn’t it? The ones calling you a diva who’s forgotten where you came from.’
Melissa sniffed. ‘I don’t read that sort of trashy magazine.’
‘Isn’t it the same one that’s covering your wedding?’ Melissa didn’t answer that one. ‘So, let me guess. Your agent thinks that if you have an old friend as part of the wedding party it’ll show how down-to-earth you still are, with your million-dollar wedding at a five-star hotel.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Yeah, I’m not doing it.’ Not a chance. It was bad enough that she had to put Morwen Hall at the disposal of an ungrateful Melissa and her celebrity mates. The last thing Eloise wanted was to have to be part of this whole debacle. ‘Why don’t you ask Laurel? She is your half-sister.’
Melissa pulled a face. ‘No way. Besides, she wouldn’t fit in the dress. Have you seen that girl’s cleavage?’ Eloise had, and was rather envious of it, actually, but she didn’t think that would dissuade Melissa.
‘The chances are I won’t fit in the dress either,’ Eloise pointed out instead. She knew she was on the skinny side of slender, because that was just how her body and metabolism worked—especially when she was rushing around Morwen Hall all day, every day. But Hollywood celebs were a different category of thin, weren’t they? And Eloise definitely wasn’t that.
‘Oh, you will,’ Melissa assured her. ‘Cassidy had to put weight on for her last part, if you can believe it. Something about fat girls being funnier.’ Well, that sounded like a film Eloise would go out of her way to avoid. ‘So we’ll do the dress fitting first thing in the morning then.’
‘Wait! I didn’t say I’d do it!’ But Melissa was already walking away, her panic about her friend apparently forgotten now the role had been filled. ‘I already have a job at this wedding, remember? I’m in charge of the venue!’
‘Then you’d better find someone to take over for you. You’ll be fine,’ Melissa called back over her shoulder as she headed back towards the Gatehouse. ‘Just do everything I say.’
‘Yeah, because that always worked out so well when we were kids,’ Eloise grumbled as the front door swung shut. That was how she’d walked in on her mother kissing the first proper, grown-up boyfriend Eloise had ever had, a week before she’d left for university. Because Melissa had sent her down into the prop room at the theatre to retrieve something or other she obviously didn’t really need. Afterwards, Melissa had claimed that she couldn’t possibly have known that they were down there, but really, wasn’t it all for Eloise’s own good anyway? She’d practically done her a favour...especially since everyone had been talking about them for weeks behind Eloise’s back. Melissa had truly believed that she’d done the right thing sending her down there to find out the truth for herself.
And maybe she had. She’d certainly cemented Eloise’s decision to never trust another actor. If only she’d also