It Started at a Wedding.... Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ Ashleigh had gone, Claire hung up all the dresses and waistcoats, and had a shower. Then she joined her best friend, her husband-to-be and their best man on the terrace. To her relief, Sean wasn’t there.

      ‘He had some phone calls to make,’ Ashleigh explained. ‘You know Sean. He always works crazy hours.’

      Probably, Claire thought, because he’d been thrown in at the deep end when he’d had to take over the family business at the age of twenty-four after their parents had been killed in a car crash. Working crazy hours had got him through the first year, and it was a habit that had clearly stuck. ‘Well—cheers,’ she said, and raised her glass as the others echoed her toast.

      * * *

      Somehow Claire managed to avoid Sean for most of the next day; their only contact was just after breakfast, when she did the final fitting of the waistcoats and checked that they went perfectly with the suits and shirts. She was busy for most of the day making the last-minute alterations to Ashleigh’s dress, and when she was finished Sean was still busy making phone calls and analysing reports.

      Then again, the sheer romance of the island of Capri would be wasted on a man like Sean, Claire thought. He was too focused on his work to notice the gorgeous flowers or the blueness of the sea. So much so that she’d half expected him not to join them for the surprise that she and Luke had organised for Ashleigh that evening; when he joined them in the taxi, she had to hide her amazement.

      ‘So where are we going?’ Ashleigh asked.

      ‘You’ll see. Patience, Miss Farrell,’ Claire said with a grin. Actually, it was something that she was looking forward to and dreading in equal measure, but she knew that it was something her best friend would love, so she’d force herself to get over her fears. It was just a shame that Sammy wasn’t there to join them as her flight from New York had been delayed. Which meant that, instead of being able to let Sammy defuse the awkwardness between herself and Sean, Claire was going to have to make small talk with him—because she could hardly talk only to the best man and the groom-to-be and ignore Sean completely.

      Finally they arrived at the chairlift.

      ‘Oh, fabulous!’ Ashleigh hugged Claire and then her husband-to-be. ‘I love this place. I didn’t think we’d get time to do this.’

      ‘It was Claire’s idea,’ Luke said with a smile. ‘She said sunset at the top of Monte Solaro would be incredibly romantic.’

      ‘Especially because it’s outside the usual tourist hours and we’ll have the place all to ourselves. I can’t believe you arranged all this.’ Ashleigh looked thrilled. ‘Thank you so much, both of you.’

      Twelve minutes, Claire reminded herself as she was helped onto the chair. It would only take twelve minutes to get from the bottom of the chairlift to the very top of the island. She wasn’t going to fall off. It was perfectly safe. She’d done this before. Thousands and thousands of tourists had done this before. The chairs were on a continuous loop, so all she had to do was let them help her jump off at the top. It would be fine.

      Even so, her palms felt slightly damp and she clung on to the green central pole of her chair for dear life. Thankfully, her bag had a cross-body strap, so she didn’t have to worry about holding on to that, too. Her hands ached by the time she reached the top, but she managed to get off the chair without falling flat on her face.

      Just as she and Luke had arranged, there was a table at the panoramic viewpoint overlooking the faraglioni, the three famous vertical columns of rock rising out of the sea. There was a beautiful arrangement of white flowers in the centre of the table, and white ribbons on the wicker chairs. When they sat down, the waiter brought over a bottle of chilled Prosecco and canapés.

      ‘Cheers. To Ashleigh and Luke—just to say how much we love you,’ Claire said, lifting her glass, and the others echoed the toast.

      ‘I really can’t believe you did this.’ Ashleigh was beaming, and Claire’s heart swelled. The night before the wedding, when Ashleigh should’ve been happily fussed over by her mum...Claire had wanted to take her best friend’s mind off what she was missing, and she and Luke had talked over the options. The scary one had definitely been the best decision.

      ‘It wasn’t just me. It was Luke as well,’ Claire said, wanting to be fair. ‘It’s just a shame Sammy couldn’t make it.’

      ‘She’ll be here tomorrow,’ Tom said confidently.

      ‘You know, some brides actually get married up here,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Obviously they’re not going to walk for an hour uphill in a wedding dress and high heels, so they ride on the chairlift. I’ve seen photographs where the bride carried her shoes in one hand and her bouquet in the other.’

      ‘And I suppose Claire showed them to you,’ Sean said.

      Claire didn’t rise to the bait, but she wished she hadn’t already done the final fitting of his waistcoat, because otherwise she would’ve had great pleasure in being totally unprofessional and sticking pins into him.

      ‘No,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Actually, she talked me out of it.’

      ‘Because the design of your dress means you wouldn’t fit in the seat properly and I didn’t want your dress all creased in the photographs,’ Claire said with a smile.

      Ashleigh laughed. ‘More like because you wouldn’t be able to hang on to your shoes and your flowers and cling on to the central bar for dear life all at the same time.’

      Claire laughed back. ‘OK, so I’m a wuss about heights—but I would’ve done it if that’s what you’d really wanted, Ash. Because it’s your day, and what you want is what’s important.’ Her words were directed at her best friend, but she looked straight into Sean’s eyes, making it very clear that she meant every word.

      He had the grace to flush.

      It looked as if he’d got the message, then. Ashleigh came first and they’d put their differences aside for her sake.

      Luke and Tom chatted easily, covering up the fact that Claire and Sean were barely speaking to each other. And gradually Claire relaxed, letting herself enjoy the incredibly romantic setting. They watched as the sun began to set over the sea; mist rose around the distant islands as the sky became striped with yellow and pink and purple, making them seem mysterious and otherworldly.

      Claire took a few shots with her camera; she knew they wouldn’t be anything near as good as Sammy’s photographs, but it would at least be a nice memory. She glanced at Sean; he looked as if he was lost in thought, staring out at the sunset. Before she quite realised what she was doing, she took the snap.

      Later that evening, back in her hotel room, she reviewed her photographs. There were some gorgeous shots of the sunset and the sea, of Ashleigh and Luke and Tom. But the picture she couldn’t get out of her head was the impulsive one she’d taken of Sean. If they’d never met before, if there were no history of sniping and backbiting between them, she would’ve said he was the most attractive man she’d ever met and she would’ve been seriously tempted to get together with him.

       But.

      She’d known Sean for years, he was far from an easy man, and she really didn’t need any complications in her life right now.

      ‘Too much Prosecco addling your brain, Claire Stewart,’ СКАЧАТЬ