Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command. Lynne Marshall
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I get my hair cut. He likes the way I look.’
Gabriel nodded admiringly. ‘He’s got his head screwed on, I’ll give him that. Always stick to the rule.’
‘What rule?’
‘You know, if you can’t say anything good, then don’t say anything. She always looks beautiful, especially in the morning, and if she ever asks you if something makes her look big the answer is always no.’
‘Even if it does?’
‘Especially if it does.’
Lucy stared at him. ‘Is there really this underlying theme of men playing some kind of game with us or are you just messing about?’
She sounded shocked and he slowed his pace to a stroll and looked at her with a grin. ‘Maybe I’m overstating it a bit,’ he said. Then he raised an eyebrow as he apparently debated the question to himself. ‘Though not that much. There is something of an unwritten rule for men.’
She looked at him quizzically.
‘You learn about it as you go along. It’s not worth the grief sometimes to be brutally honest so you tell her what she wants to hear and then enjoy your quiet life. Men don’t notice what women wear half as much as other women do.’
‘In that case what the hell is the point of us being here?’ God, he could be exasperating at times.
‘Because we want Ed to sit up and take notice, don’t we? Look at you through fresh eyes. And the easiest way to make a man do a double take is with your appearance, right?’
Gabriel dragged her by the arm into the beautiful old building that housed Jolly’s department store. Designer and high street in one vast place, with chandeliers and lots of steps up and down to different departments. As they stepped out of the lift and walked into the lusciously carpeted personal shopping suite Lucy was surprised to see him kiss the cheek of the impeccably dressed assistant who greeted them. Surely that was a bit overfamiliar, wasn’t it?
‘Lucy, this is Amanda,’ Gabriel said.
Lucy nodded uncertainly at the perfectly groomed blonde woman in her understated suit and heels.
‘Amanda, thanks so much for fitting us in,’ he said warmly, and led the way into the suite, walking next to the woman as Lucy lagged a few paces behind them feeling drab in her jeans and sweater. ‘Getting married soon, could do with a makeover…’ she heard him say and her eyes widened. What a cheek!
Amanda showed them both to a huge squashy leather sofa, and then disappeared through a side door. The moment they were sitting down and she was out of earshot, Lucy elbowed Gabriel hard in the ribs.
‘Ow!’
‘Serves you right!’ she said in an angry stage whisper. ‘Could do with a makeover? There’s nothing wrong with the way I look!’
‘Calm down, Lu.’ He held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘I’m just keeping her sweet. Just making sure she realises we’re not, you know, together. Do you have any idea how booked up this place gets? Told you I’d call in a favour. I knew Amanda would squeeze us in, time being of the essence and everything.’ He winked at her.
She rolled her eyes skyward in exasperation. ‘You mean I’ll be getting dress tips from one of your conquests? You must be joking!’
He made an urgent shushing gesture, which infuriated her all the more. ‘Keep your voice down! She’s not a conquest, since you ask, but she is a friend of a friend and—’
‘Oh, great. She just isn’t a conquest yet, then. Big difference.’
‘Will you just chill out? She’s excellent at her job and you want to try on some new stuff. Where’s the problem?’
She shook her head impatiently at him and then pasted a polite smile on her face as Amanda reappeared with an armful of clothes and began hanging them on a rail at the side of the room.
She threw a glance Lucy’s way and smiled. ‘Size eight,’ she said. ‘Possibly a ten in jeans and definitely petite.’ It was a statement, not a question.
Lucy nodded in admiration. ‘You’re good,’ she had to admit.
Amanda came over to the sofa and smiled at them. ‘That’s what I’m paid for,’ she said. ‘Follow me, Lucy. I’ll pull some things together for you to try and we can get an idea of what suits your body type best and what colours work well for you, that kind of thing.’ She shifted her gaze to Gabriel. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Gabriel. There’ll be some drinks along in a minute.’ She flashed him a brilliant smile. Gabriel smiled back at her and stretched out in the corner of the sofa, his arms behind his head.
Lucy followed Amanda into the curtained fitting-room section of the suite. None of the horror of the communal changing room here, thankfully. No desperate shrugging into clothes and deliberately avoiding eye contact with everyone else, all of them doing exactly the same thing. Instead a large, private square room with a clothing rail down one side and a mirror down the other. A much larger bank of mirrors was placed outside, of course, by the sofas, where you could have a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of yourself as you walked around, and where your guest could watch and give you feedback. In her case that meant Gabriel. She felt absurdly shy. It was ridiculous, she told herself. She’d known Gabe all her life practically. And anyway, it shouldn’t matter what he thought about how she looked; this was all aimed at Ed, after all. She shrugged out of her plain T-shirt and took the first item off the hanger.
Gabriel surreptitiously got out his smart-phone. Not entirely to check his emails, but also to avoid conversing with Amanda, who drifted back to him on a cloud of her own perfume every time she left Lucy to change into some new item. Attractive as she was, he had no time for a fling right now. Another assistant had briefly appeared and deposited a tray of sparkling wine and nibbles to one side of him.
He looked up at the swish of the curtain as Lucy walked self-consciously out into the centre of the mirrors. She was wearing a long black skirt and a flowing blouse over it with a busy floral print. He could tell just by looking at her that she liked it. Of course she did. It could have been from her own wardrobe.
Amanda was shaking her head. ‘Pretty, but it totally drowns your figure, there’s no definition there.’ She deftly grabbed a handful of blouse and held it against the small of Lucy’s back. ‘See how much better it would look if it was nipped in at the waist? I’d like to see you in something a bit more eye-catching, too.’
‘Amanda’s totally right,’ Gabriel piped up, and the stylist flushed with pleasure. Two birds with one stone, he congratulated himself. Look interested and keep Amanda on side at the same time.
There was a ratcheting sound as Amanda expertly flipped through the clothes on the rail. ‘Something a bit more tailored,’ she was saying. ‘You’re so tiny you just look swamped in these floaty designs.’
Lucy disappeared back behind the curtain. Gabriel absently flipped through an email about a case he’d just taken on. It looked as if it might be more complicated than he’d first thought, he’d better request some more information. Then, glancing briefly back up, he froze, the phone held aloft. When had Lucy got legs like that?
Lucy had a fragile silhouette, making a mockery of the fact that her life revolved around the creation of cakes and pastries. But rather than make her look skinny as loose clothes often did, the scarlet shirt she wore now clung in all the right places. The nipped-in cut showed off her tiny waist and with it she was wearing a pair of figure-hugging black cigarette pants. His mouth felt suddenly dry, as if it were full of sawdust, and he automatically took a swig of the very inferior sparkling wine.
‘Those trousers aren’t really Lucy’s style,’ he heard himself say. ‘Tell her, Lu, you run a bakery. That kind of thing isn’t practical.’
Both women totally ignored him. ‘Try them with these, Lucy,’ Amanda said. ‘More definition and height.’
Lucy