The Best Man's Baby. Darcy Maguire
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But it was time for a change.
His mobile shrilled. He grabbed it and stabbed the button, his body already warming at the thought of her. Was she running late, stuck in traffic somewhere or going to offer an apology? ‘Coburn.’
‘Nick, how’d you go with your fitting?’ Sandra’s voice was sweet and lilting.
He looked at the ceiling. Sandra was tall, blonde and wily. Almost model material. He’d met her several times at Paul’s place and then at the engagement party. She probably would have made for a nice distraction but now, after seeing Skye again, feeling what she stirred deep inside him, he had bigger challenges at hand. Like getting her out of his system once and for all.
‘Mine went fabulously. That designer that Camelot has there is amazing. You should see our bridesmaid dresses. They’re unbelievable. No sleeves, no straps, just cupping my breasts and then sweeping down. All soft, pink and silky, caressing my skin like you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. And you should see what she’s done with the wedding gown. Goodness, that’s the only place to get your dress. It’s all white with off the shoulder straps that are extensions of the dress rather than just straps. And all studded with tiny pearls and the finest lace around the edges. Then there’s the veil…But silly me, rattling on like this.’ She paused for breath. ‘How did you go?’
‘Fine.’ He looked towards the door.
‘I bet you looked so amazing in your tux. I can’t wait for the wedding, can you?’
He didn’t want to hear about himself. He didn’t want to hear about her dress, or the wedding. He looked at the door, his body tense. He wanted to know about Skye. ‘What do you know about the planner and the business?’
‘Darling, I know heaps, of course. I wasn’t going to let Cynthia just take on any wedding planner. Camelot’s going to do Kasey Steel’s wedding, you know? It’s in early spring. It’s been splashed through all the papers.’
‘What about the planners?’
‘Well, they’re all sisters, three of them, and then there’s the mother. The oldest sister does a bit of wedding planning and proposal planning. What will they come up with next?’
‘I don’t know.’ He twisted his cup, watching the remains swirl around the bottom. ‘And—’
‘And then the youngest is the fashion designer. She does all the dresses and they are to die for.’
‘And—’
‘And the mother and the middle daughter are the main wedding planners. It’s so cute, isn’t it? Keeping it in the family.’
‘Very cute. What about details?’
She dragged in a deep breath. ‘Well, I know they shot out of mediocrity with the announcement of their doing the Steel wedding. Before that I don’t think they were as motivated or something. I don’t know. But I know the wedding planner daughter was not even there full-time.’
Nick straightened the depositions in front of him. ‘What else about the young wedding planner woman? Do you know anything else about her?’
‘Why do you ask?’ asked Sandra, her tone sharp and biting.
Nick clenched his hands. ‘No reason. Just that the mother has come down with the flu, apparently, and the young one is taking over Cynthia and Paul’s wedding.’
‘Really? Well, I hope she’s good,’ Sandra stated dryly. ‘And I hope she’s decided to take her job seriously and do it properly.’
‘Sure to.’ It was obvious Sandra’s knowledge didn’t go far. No surprises there. ‘Look, Sandra. I have to get going. Work and all.’
‘Of course. Sure.’ There was a long pause. ‘Well, bye then.’
Nick hung up and stared at the mobile. What else could Skye possibly have been doing if she wasn’t working at Camelot full-time? A course at university? Another job? Another man?
He gulped down the last of his coffee, almost cold, swallowing hard. He pushed the unpleasant thought from his mind. First things first.
He plunged the phone back into his jacket pocket and looked at his watch. Almost one. His lunch hour was up. He gathered the papers in front of him—he’d hardly looked at them. He had to get over Skye as quickly as humanly possible and get back to focusing on his work.
He stood abruptly, almost skittling his chair. Skye was surrounded by unanswered questions and he had every intention of getting all the answers, by whatever means possible.
Whether he liked the answers or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SKYE, you have a phone call on line one from John, line two from the Macdonalds, and line three from the Donovans—a new query.’
Skye smoothed back the wisps of hair that had escaped her coiffure and sighed deeply. The phone had been ringing half the morning and most of the afternoon since she’d run into Nick. If she’d had to cope with bookings and follow-ups to caterers, florists, churches, reception centres and all the rest as well, she’d have gone mad.
‘Tell John I’ll call him back later.’ Skye was glad she was too busy for that call. She’d have to explain why she had left a message on his answering machine cancelling their date. ‘The way things are going, much later. Ask the Macdonalds if you can help them. Tell them I’ll ring them back otherwise. I’ll take the new query.’
‘Okay,’ Maggie chimed.
Skye punched the phone for line three. She looked at her watch again. Almost five. Only a few more minutes and things would slow down. She could finish the day’s work and run home.
She needed to take a hot shower, scream into her pillow and sort out what on earth she was going to do about Nick Coburn.
She answered the Donovans’ queries easily. She’d done this enough times to know all the answers to all the questions couples came up with when they wanted to hire a wedding planner. She wished her life were as easy.
‘Skye, I’m heading home. Anything else you need me to do for you before I go?’ Maggie swung her head around the door.
‘No, I’m fine. Just itching to get home.’
‘Yeah, it must be really weird for you to be here so late.’ Maggie hooked her bag over her shoulder, wiping her nose with a tissue. ‘You’re usually gone by two.’
‘Can’t be helped. With Mum sick—’ She looked at the work still in front of her, her stomach leaden. She hated being this late home.
‘We should send her flowers.’
Skye nodded. ‘She’d like that. Remind me tomorrow, can you?’
‘Sure. Night, Skye.’
‘Night, Maggie.’ She was a great asset and an enthusiastic young woman who was eager to help with all aspects of the business.
The work was tedious. She felt every minute passing like a deep thud in her chest. If only Tara could dig up another planner from somewhere to lighten the load, she could get back to the routine that worked best for her.
At six she couldn’t take it any more. She tidied her desk, grabbed her coat and purse and flicked off the light. The rest could wait until morning. She had responsibilities that were more important than work.
Skye moved through the darkened offices. The quietness of the place at night was almost surreal after the hectic bustle of the day.
She rarely got to hear the silence. Not for years. She had her hands totally and utterly full at home.
She poked her head around the door of Tara’s office and smiled. Empty. There were days