Confessions Of A Bad Bridesmaid

Thankfully she appeared to have enough brains to remain silent. For exactly three minutes.

‘I would suggest before you saw the Prime Minister, in case he prattled on a bit. Then you would have known you had to get out earlier and could have hurried him up.’

‘Hurried him up?’

‘Yes. Hurried him up.’

‘The Prime Minister?’

‘Yes.’

‘Of Great Britain?’

‘Yes.’ She turned those big eyes his way finally. ‘He’s only a man.’

Only a man. That simple phrase summed up her stupidity. And he didn’t have the patience for stupid. He decided right then that, no matter how delectable her lips, she didn’t deserve another moment of his conversation and shut his mouth tight.

It took another three whole minutes for her to speak again.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I should have thought that was obvious.’

‘The bloke at the pub told me I was almost there.’

‘My parents’ house is twenty minutes away. You had a long way to go in those...boots.’

‘But I was going to Fiona’s—I need to get changed.’

‘We’re going to be late as it is. There’s no time for you to get changed. What you’re wearing is fine.’

Edward sneaked another look at her outfit. She would certainly stand out. His sister’s tedious friends would have their avaricious tongues hanging out, making complete nuisances of themselves over her. But she was stubbornly persisting.

‘I have been on a plane for twenty-four hours, a bus for an hour and I have trudged up a hill...in the snow. I want to get changed.’

‘I’m afraid it’s too late.’

‘Fine. Stop the car.’

‘What?’

‘I said, stop the car. I’ll get changed in the back seat.’

‘You don’t need to change; you can freshen up when we get there.’

‘I don’t want to freshen up—I want to change. Stop the car.’

Seeing he was getting absolutely nowhere, he stopped protesting. But he let his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel as she got out and shuffled to the rear of the car.

From the boot she pulled out all her bags and hauled them into his car, dragging them across his leather seats. He winced, but remained silent and started to drive again. He was determined not to be late. Or any later than he already was, so he suppressed a frustrated sigh.

‘Where is my dress? I can’t find it...’ She seemed to be muttering to herself, so Edward didn’t bother answering.

She zipped open one brightly coloured bag and began searching through seemingly endless articles of clothing. Edward concentrated on the road.

‘This weekend is nothing but a damn nuisance,’ he muttered.

Picking this girl up was a damn nuisance. But it had to be done. As attending this tedious event had to be done. His mother would need him and Will would need him and it would all fall apart if he wasn’t there. Fixing everything. Making sure everything ran smoothly. He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter. If he wasn’t there things would not go well, and he wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

‘Sounds like someone is not in the party mood.’

Party mood? No, he was not in the ‘party mood’. And now that babysitting an over-tanned party girl had been added to his ever-increasing list of things to take care of his mood was becoming increasingly blacker.

‘We are not here to “party” this weekend. It’s a wedding.’

Her head snapped up and he glanced at her again. Those light-coloured eyes had gone wide. Were they blue or grey? He couldn’t quite make them out.

‘I’m not sure what kind of weddings you’ve been to, Little Mr Sunshine, but the weddings I attend are always a great place to party.’

A tendon in his neck throbbed. You’re here to make sure everyone is all right, he reminded himself, gripping the steering wheel with even more force. You just have to get through the weekend. Although he was sure this woman and her ‘party mood’ were going to make it feel like months.

He glanced in the rear-vision mirror just as she held up something sparkling and purple and sure to be vulgar.

‘What is that?’ He couldn’t keep the distaste from his mouth. Why did women feel the need to cover themselves in sparkles? They looked much better in nothing more complicated than a simple dress. Granted, that body of hers wouldn’t look too bad in a tight dress, but sparkles were his pet peeve.

‘Don’t look,’ she said.

This, of course, meant that now all he wanted to do was look. But he kept his eyes on the road. He could control himself even if she was... Good Lord, was that a breast?

TWO

Not even sneaking a peek, thought Olivia as she slipped her tight trousers off and slid her thermal singlet up over her head. With a tug she pulled the dress down over her head. It, too, was tight but with an extra-hard tug it slipped over her.

She dared a glance in the rear-vision mirror, wondering if she’d caught his dark eyes flicking her way. But he was facing the front. Prude. He probably turned the lights out during sex. Which in her experience was almost as bad as a sleazy lout with wandering hands.

She’d known them all. The funny ones—egotistical—the stupid ones—selfish—the pretty ones—unfaithful—and the shy ones—bad in bed. Unfortunately none had lasted longer than three weeks. The brutal truth was that Olivia was convinced she was undateable. But that was all ending this weekend. False eyelashes, a week’s worth of tanning on Bondi and a bag full of sparkly short dresses meant this weekend she was going to make an impression.

Olivia pulled her make-up bag with her into the front seat and Edward made a disapproving harrumph. Like an old woman.

‘Haven’t you got enough of that on already?’ he enquired rudely. She noticed his fists were white on the steering wheel. Angry, impatient and disapproving. Usually she charmed people when she first met them. For the first five minutes. Then, of course, they quickly lost interest. But his disinterest had taken hold a lot more quickly than normal. She wasn’t sure why, but that idea made her stomach knot up tight. How ridiculous. As if a man like him would ever be interested in someone like her anyway.

‘It’s these finishing touches that take a girl from drab to dazzling. You’ll see.’

She felt his eyes on her and ignored them. He was probably thinking that no amount of make-up could do that, and he’d be right. The truth was she was the younger, less attractive sister and the least pretty of all her friends. She’d made peace with that fact years ago, but a layer of peroxide through her naturally mousy hair and plenty of make-up made her feel much better—and this weekend she wanted to feel good. But his disapproving glances were having the opposite effect.

‘What’s wrong? Do I have something in my teeth? Or is one of my nipples out?’ She lifted her hands to her dress and shifted the bodice, making sure the girls were where they should be. She might not have the face to compete with her friends, but she was happy with her body. Hours at the gym and pounding the pavement meant she was solid muscle. Her body she could control.

* * *