Something Borrowed (27 page)

Chloe leant back in her chair and let the rush of musical chatter wash over her. Yes, it was noisy and chaotic, and they never ever talked about books, but she loved these women. There was a camaraderie here, a sisterhood that supported each other, that lifted each other up when they needed it, that made her laugh, and cry at times.

Things were going to get better. Jenna had a dream that was becoming a reality. Things were settling down between Chloe and her mum. There was a future for them, a good future if they all stuck together.

But there was still that little tug, the empty bed that was calling her, the scent of him still on her sheets and the twinge of pain in her heart.

The strawberries on the table mocked her:
We could have been something
.

Something better, something sexy, and something very special indeed.

‘
I
think
it’s coffee time. Anjini, I need a hand. Come with me. I spotted a kiosk somewhere over by the entrance.’ Bridget was bristling and bubbly and bruising for a fight, judging by the tight way she pulled her cardigan around her shoulders. Chloe hoped there was sufficient security here at the wedding fayre to deal with two middle-aged women who could raise merry hell when they wanted.

‘That means you’re going to bite my head off about spilling the peas on that curse. Again.’ Mrs Singh folded her arms across her chest and steadfastly refused to move. ‘No, thank you. I’ve had it twice now, and I don’t want to hear another word. I’ve apologised over and over, and that should be enough. I’m staying here. Chloe needs me, don’t you?’

Mum being feisty, Mrs Singh being petulant. Chloe grinned. So good to see things almost back to normal. ‘Whoa, ladies, don’t drag me into this. And it’s
beans
. Spilling the beans, Mrs Singh. Jenna and I can manage quite well here, thanks. I’d like a black coffee, please. Jen usually has a cappuccino, and get a hot chocolate for Evie if you can carry it. Go and sort yourselves out, ladies. Talk. Fight. Shout. Then come back as friends again. Please? I like it better when we’re all friends.’

Her mum gave her a weary smile and patted Chloe’s hand. ‘We are friends, Chloe. Don’t worry. You are allowed to have fights with friends and family without everything turning into a complete disaster forever. It’s what makes things stronger.’

‘Yes, she’s right.’ There was humour in Mrs Singh’s eyes. ‘She’ll make a fuss. I’ll make a good pretence of listening. Then we’ll be done. Right, Bridget?’

‘Right you are.’ Mum grinned at her oldest friend. ‘You’re nothing but trouble, you know that?’

‘Indeed, I do. And proud of it.’

Chloe watched them walk away, arm in arm, Mum’s mouth working ten to the dozen. Anjini nodding and laughing and, no doubt, taking no crap whatsoever. Things were healing. Although, she expected it would take more than that to make her own heart a little less sore.

Two weeks, and still no word from Vaughn, apart from short emails about the business, and nothing…
nothing
… about what they’d shared. He was still in Paris, with a trip up to Manchester planned for next week. No diversion via London. She knew because she’d organised the damned flights.

She closed her eyes briefly and let the hurt wash through her. Acknowledging it, and then letting it go. Getting over Vaughn would be a long path, she realised, but one she could definitely walk. And she didn’t miss the irony of being at a wedding fayre with a broken heart.

‘Excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?’ A young woman, standing in front of Chloe, was breathless and excited. Her eyes were as bright as the lighting in the large exhibition room. ‘There’s something… familiar.’

‘I just gave a presentation on the expectations of the wedding planner and the couple, in the western hall. Maybe you were there?’ Chloe smiled. So far, so good. The fayre had brought in hundreds of happy couples looking for their own unique wedding experience, and there was a steady footfall of people stopping to chat with her.

Groups of bridesmaids giggled hysterically over the free vodka at a hen party company booth further down the aisle. The huge exhibition hall hummed with chatter and laughter and the giddiness of expectation and celebration. There was a cluster of people around the
Something Borrowed
stall, people interested in the photographs on the wall, the one of the yellow road and the close ups of the Marilyn Monroe dress that still made Chloe’s heart ache. Because he’d taken the shots. Because he’d been there with her, trying to make her feel better.

God, she wished he was here now to make her feel better all over again. Every bit of her ached to hold him again. Every cell in her body missed him and craved his touch.

Focus.

And she did. No man was ever going to distract her from her work again.

The woman was still looking at her, clearly trying to remember where she knew her from. Chloe smiled. ‘Is there anything in particular I can help you with? Are you planning a wedding? We have lots of experience and great ideas to make your day extra special. Anything. We specialise in the extraordinary.’ She’d decided not to use the word quirky as that may put people off.

‘Hmmm.’ The woman gave her a friendly smile back. There was nothing in her that Chloe recognised. ‘Not sure… really.
Something Borrowed.
Something Borrowed
… the name’s very familiar.’

‘It’s probably because of the poem. Maybe? Look, I know it’s totally overwhelming in here with so much on offer. Had much luck so far? Found anything that appeals to you?’ Chloe glanced over to Jenna, who was grinning as she wiggled Evie on her knee, simultaneously handing out flyers and chatting to potential customers. Evie was a great draw card with her cute button nose and gorgeous floor-length ivory silk flower-girl dress.

They’d used the exhibition opportunity to showcase examples of Mum’s handiwork, which were displayed on mannequins. The booth was decorated with pretty summer flowers to highlight Jenna’s floristry business. The rental contract had been signed, and things were happening. Next week she’d be in her new shop.

After thinking about what Vaughn had said about her not shouldering everything, Chloe had told them about the cash flow problems, and they’d taken out a joint bank loan to cover everything. They’d also decided they’d have equal shares in the business and equal responsibility. Both her mum and her sister had stepped up to the challenge. With every passing day, she’d felt the weight of responsibility fall just a little away from her shoulders.

Chloe handed the woman a leaflet and a pen. ‘There’s a sign-up form here. Would you like to leave your name? One of the team can get back to you later in the week. That way you’ll have had time to digest all the information and have a better idea of what you want. I’d love to hear what you’re planning.’

Jenna gave her a discreet thumbs-up and a wink.
Good. Positivity. Fun.
And the strange thing was, Chloe actually felt a little of it too. Some of the shiny, happy people thing. She wasn’t destined for love ever after, but others were. She was okay with that and determined to give them the best wedding experience she could.

‘No, thanks. I remember now. Yes.
Something Borrowed
. That’s right.’ The woman’s eyes narrowed as she nodded, and Chloe’s gut started in free fall. ‘Weren’t you the wedding planner who was stood up at the altar?’

‘Er… yes. That was me.’ What was the point in denying it? ‘Good memory.’

‘That’s right. I edit the Portobello Local newspaper. I’m covering the show,’ The bride-to-be who clearly wasn’t a bride-to-be explained, with glee. ‘Great story, by the way. Especially beating up the best man. With the flowers! We had a few laughs about that in the office.’

‘Oh. Good. Glad someone did.’ Not even a client, just another nosy reporter wanting to cash in.

The woman put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, God, you didn’t get back together with the groom, did you?’

‘No. I didn’t. He’s still with the bridesmaid. But it’s all in the past. Life goes on, right?’ Chloe glanced nervously around at the crowd who was straining to listen. The murmur of chatter went silent, and tens of pairs of eyes were all looking at her. Was this how it was going to be? Would she never be allowed to forget? She raised her voice and infused it with as much shiny shimmer as she could. Laughing. Yes, laughing to make light of it. ‘It wasn’t the crowning moment of my career, I’ll give you that. But we have to make lemonade when life hands us lemons, right? I have safeguards in place now, and always recommend taking out insurance for the big day. But rest assured, you’ll get hitched without a hitch with us.’ She cringed inside. Had she really just said that? She sounded like a bad advert on the Shopping Channel.

There was a snort from Jenna. And Chloe glared at her.

‘So.’ The woman went on. God, she was nosy. Or thorough. Or something. ‘How are things for you now?’

‘Great. Couldn’t be better, actually. Business is thriving. We’re soooo busy.’ Chloe had crossed her fingers as she said that. What of it? ‘But, of course, we’ll always make room for any new clients.’

‘Could have gone either way, I guess. At the office, we had bets you’d be closed down within a month.’ The woman rummaged through her purse and handed a card to Chloe. ‘Marnie Fitzpatrick. I do love a happy ending, especially for our local businesses. Call me, and we can arrange a follow-up feel-good story. It’ll be good advertising for you.’

‘Thanks. I will.’ When things actually got better. Although, there had been interest and most of the flyers had been taken. Hopefully, they were going to be very busy indeed. No time to wallow in self-pity over Vaughn Bloody Brooks and wishful thinking.

Marnie looked very pleased with herself. ‘Oh, and I always wondered, what happened to the best man afterwards?’

We had sex. I fell in love. He broke my heart. He left.
‘He—’

‘He’s right here.’

‘Vaughn?’

The voice was dark and smooth and washed through her, warming bits that had been ice since he’d gone. Her heart jumped and jittered as she looked for him across the heads of the little crowd.

And there he was. Head and shoulders above them all, pushing his way through the wide-eyed, open-mouthed audience until he was standing in front of her.

‘Vaughn.’ It was the only word she could say. The rest were stuck in her throat, wedged in with the tight lump that seemed to be making breathing quite difficult.

‘Hey, Chloe.’ He looked around at all the eyes that had moved from her to him, even wider now and glittering with even more excitement. ‘Hello, everybody.’

There was a collective intake of breath. A few ‘hi’s’ and ‘hellos.’ Then silence.

‘Chloe, love, here’s your coffee.’ Her mum was nudging her way through with a lot less panache than Vaughn had. Seeing him, she stopped short and glowered. Her hand still outstretched with coffee that, Chloe thought for a moment, might have been flung over his very nice Parisian dark blue jacket. ‘Oh. Well, look at that. It’s your man.’

Earth, eat me up, now.
Chloe took the coffee for safekeeping. ‘Yes, Mum. It’s Vaughn. And he’s not
my
man. Very definitely not mine. That’s right, isn’t it, Vaughn?’

‘About that…’ Vaughn reached to her arm and tugged her a little closer. ‘Can we talk? Without an audience?’

‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ Mum put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of us. We’re her family. Hurt her again and you’ll have us to deal with.’

He twisted round and peered at everyone’s hands. ‘No bouquets? Good.’

‘Not yet. But there’s some in grabbing distance.’ Bridget reached out for a bunch of pink and purple freesias in a pot. ‘So, we’re waiting… get it out, lad.’

The redness on Chloe’s cheeks intensified. ‘Mum!’ she hissed. ‘Leave the poor man alone.’ Then she turned to Vaughn and drank in the sweet sexiness in his face, the dark steel eyes, the kissable mouth.
Please don’t break my heart all over again.
‘What are you doing here?’

‘You really want me to say it in front of everyone?’

‘Yes, she does.’ It was Marnie. She had her camera poised.

‘For the love of—’ Chloe shook her head. She did not need witnesses to yet another humiliating heartbreak. ‘No. Actually, let’s go outside.’

But there was a fashion show between them and the front door. Crowds had accumulated to watch the new season’s dresses. Tinny music began to play. Luckily, all heads turned towards the models.

‘Over here, Chloe.’ Vaughn’s hand was in hers and, for a moment, she let it stay there, so warm and safe and firm. And she let the sparkle of hope in her chest fire into life. Because underneath it all, she did believe in love. Even if it was one-sided.

But if that was the case, then… why was he here?

He pulled her behind the booth and looked almost as if he was going to kiss her. She dropped his hand and pushed space between them. ‘Whoa, hang on, Vaughn. What’s going on? Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in the air right now on the way to Manchester.’

‘I had to come and see you. I couldn’t breathe properly. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything without having you in my head. It’s driving me insane.’ He put both hands on her shoulders and drew her closer. ‘I shouldn’t have just gone off to Paris like I did. I’m sorry. I treated you badly, and you didn’t deserve that.’

‘No, I didn’t. You walked away from me after I’d laid my soul open to you. You hurt me. You didn’t even say a word. You did what every single man has ever done to me, Vaughn. You just walked away.’

‘I know. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to tell you how confused I was because that wasn’t fair. But it was blowing my mind. Everything seemed to happen so quickly… the dance, then the kiss, then the sex, and I felt completely blindsided by it. By you. By what was developing between us. And then Jason came along and professed his undying love for you, and I had so many emotions rolling around inside me. I couldn’t handle the way I was feeling.’ He stroked a finger down her cheek. ‘And I really didn’t like the way I felt at the thought of you being with someone else. That spooked me.’

So he was just here to reconfirm what she already knew. She fought her wobbling lip and dredged a smile. ‘Look, it’s really busy here and I really, really need the business. So, if you’re done? I accept your apology. It’s okay. I understand you can’t love me. Not like you loved Bella. You had a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I’m glad you did. But I think I might have, too. And… well, that hurts me more than I expected it would. Look, I really do have to go.’

She blinked away the tears that were springing up in her eyes. She would not cry over him again. She had more self-respect than that. She turned, trying to shrug off his hands.

‘Chloe, wait.’ He hadn’t let go of her, but she’d twisted away from him. ‘You’re right. I can’t love you like I loved Bella—’

‘Yes. Okay? I understand. Now, please, let me go.’ She shook her head, unwilling to let him see the traitorous single tear spill down her cheek.