The Wedding-Night Affair

Fiona should have put her right then and there, but she hesitated too long and the moment was lost.

‘So how did your wedding go yesterday, dear?’ Kathryn asked as she steered Fiona over towards the house. ‘You had lovely weather for it, considering it’s August.’

‘It...um...it went very well,’ Fiona replied truthfully, while she tried to work out how to tactfully escape this increasingly awkward situation.

‘I can imagine everything you do goes very well, my dear,’ Kathryn complimented her. ‘I’m already impressed with your punctuality and your appearance. A lot of people these days don’t seem to care how late they are for an appointment, or how they look when they get there. I’ve always felt that clothes reveal a lot about a man, and everything about a woman. You and I are going to get along very well, my dear. Very well indeed.’

Now that sounded more like the old Kathryn, Fiona thought.

To be strictly honest, however, she now shared some of those sentiments. She couldn’t abide people who were late for business appointments. Neither was she impressed with the slovenly dressed, or the grunge brigade. Fiona had found that people who didn’t care about their own appearance were usually not much good at their jobs.

You mean you judge a book by its cover these days, darling? an annoying inner voice pointed out drily.

The sound of a car speeding up the driveway interrupted her distracting train of thought.

‘That will be my son,’ Kathryn said, just as a black Jaguar with tinted windows roared into view. It braked hard inches before the gravel section, then passed sedately by them before purring to a cat-like halt on the other side of her Audi.

Panic had Fiona jamming her sunglasses back over her suddenly terrified eyes and praying Philip wouldn’t recognise her with them on.

‘I thought you said Phi...your son...couldn’t come today,’ she pronounced tautly.

Fortunately, Kathryn didn’t seem to notice her agitation. ‘He rang a while back on his mobile to say that Corinne—she’s his fiancée—had woken with a migraine this morning and begged off going on the harbour cruise luncheon they were supposed to attend. He didn’t fancy going alone so decided to pop home for lunch instead. He rang off before I could remind him you would be here as well.’

Fiona found herself staring over at the car. From the side, she couldn’t see the driver, because of the tinted windows. Several fraught seconds ticked away without Philip making an appearance, and she found herself waiting breathlessly for that moment when the driver’s door would open.

Fiona began to feel sick to her stomach. It had been a dreadful mistake coming here today, she was beginning to realise. A dreadful, dreadful mistake!

As though in slow motion, the door finally opened and his dark head came into view, followed by his shoulders—his very broad shoulders. Once fully upright, he turned to glance at them over the bonnet of the car.

Was she imagining it or was he staring at her? Surely not. She had to be imagining it. He couldn’t have recognised her, not with her sunglasses on!

She was being paranoid. Besides, he was wearing sunglasses too. Impossible to see where his eyes were being directed, or to determine their expression with those masking shades on.

Which was a reassuring factor from her own point of view, because the moment he strode round the front of his car and started towards them Fiona’s eyes began eating him up in exactly the same way they had the very first day he’d walked into Gino’s fish and chip shop ten years before.

Yet he was only wearing jeans and a grey sweater. Nothing fancy. Just casual clothes.

Philip the man, she was forced to accept, was even more impressive than Philip the youth, the promise of future perfection now fulfilled. His long, lanky frame was all filled out, his once boyishly handsome face fined down to a more mature and classical handsomeness, his thick unruly brown hair now elegantly tamed and groomed.

At twenty, Philip had been dishy.

At thirty, he was downright dangerous.

Kathryn disengaged her arm from Fiona’s as Philip approached, moving forward to give her son an astonishing hug. ‘It’s so nice to see you, son. I hope you didn’t drive too fast, now.’

‘I never drive too fast, Mother dearest. Can’t afford to get any blemishes on my record.’

‘My son’s a lawyer,’ his mother proudly explained, with a smiling glance over her shoulder at Fiona.

Philip’s gaze swung to Fiona as well, who felt as if there was a vice around her chest, squeezing tightly.

‘So, who have we here, Mother?’ he said quite nonchalantly. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’

A little of the pressure eased, though a perverse dismay was added to the emotions besieging Fiona at that moment. So he hadn’t recognised her! She shouldn’t have been disappointed. But, stupidly, she was. He’d once claimed he would never forget her, that he would love her till the end of time.

‘The end of time’ apparently expired after ten years, came the pained thought. If truth be told, it had probably begun to run out the moment she’d exited his life.

Philip’s father had been so right about his son’s so-called love. It had had about as much substance as fairy-floss.

‘Your memory for some things is appalling these days, Philip,’ his mother said, blissfully unaware of the irony within those words. ‘Fiona is the wedding co-ordinator from Five-Star Weddings that I was telling you about on Friday. I’m sure I mentioned I was having lunch with her today. Fiona, this is Philip, the absent-minded groom. Philip, this is Fiona. Fiona Kirby, wasn’t it, dear?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘How do you do, Mrs Kirby?’ he greeted her.

‘Miss,’ she corrected sharply, and his eyebrows lifted above the sunglasses.

‘My mistake. Sorry. Ms Kirby.’

‘Oh, don’t call her that, Philip,’ his mother said with a soft laugh. ‘We’re already on a first-name basis, aren’t we, my dear? As I said to Fiona, we’ll be spending quite a deal of time together in the near future so we might as well be friends.’

Fiona wanted to scream and make a dash for the car. Friends? She was no more capable of being friends with Philip and his mother than she was of being friends with a pair of serial killers.

Yet for the moment she was trapped. Owen would kill her if she alienated such an influential family as the Forsythes, thereby damaging the reputation of Five-Star Weddings. And, frankly, she wouldn’t blame him. She’d been very foolish indeed to come here in person and risk all for the sake of her infernal pride.

‘You’ve already decided on Five-Star Weddings to do the wedding?’ Philip asked his mother, a frown bunching his forehead.

‘I certainly have. The moment I met Fiona I knew she was the right person to do the job.’

‘Did you indeed? How interesting. I, however, would like to see what she has in mind before any decisions are made and any contracts signed.’

‘Lawyers!’ Kathryn exclaimed, with a roll of her eyes and an apologetic glance towards Fiona. ‘They see trouble at every turn.’

‘Not at all,’ Philip countered smoothly. ‘I simply don’t believe in rushing into anything, especially when it comes to business dealings. The world is full of conartists and shysters. I know nothing of Five-Star Weddings other than what you told me over the phone. And absolutely nothing about Ms Kirby here, except what I can see for myself. As attractive as her outer package might be, in reality she might be anybody!’

Fiona stiffened, then saw red. Be damned with what Owen thought. Be damned with everything. She was not going to let Philip stand there and insult her.

Sweeping off her sunglasses, she glared up at him, her cold fury only increasing when he still didn’t recognise her.

‘Five-Star Weddings has an impeccable record and reputation, Mr Forsythe,’ she stated through clenched teeth. ’As do I. Might I remind you that your mother solicited this appointment, not the other way around? Nevertheless, I can show you many personal letters of recommendation, plus extensive portfolios of weddings I have arranged. Believe it or not, I am heavily booked at the moment, and only came here as a favour for my business partner, who agreed to this appointment without consulting me.

‘Under the circumstances, it would be better if you found someone else, Kathryn,’ she directed at Philip’s mother. ‘Lovely to have met you.’

Kathryn grabbed her arm before she could make good her escape. ‘Please, don’t go!’ she cried, before rounding on her son, her voice trembling and full of reproach. ‘What on earth’s got into you, Philip? I’ve never known you be so rude before!’

‘I wasn’t being rude. I was trying to be sensible. Anyway, given that Ms Kirby says she overbooked, it’s better you do hire someone else.’

‘But I don’t want someone else! I want Fiona. She’s the one who was recommended. On top of that, I like her. You’d do the job personally, wouldn’t you, dear, if I paid you double your usual fee?’