Bound By The Sultan's Baby. Carol Marinelli

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       CHAPTER TWO

      IT TRULY WAS a beautiful wedding.

      Not that Gabi had a second to enjoy it.

      Resplendent in his kilt, the best man was being actively pursued by the matron of honour and doing his best to get away. Fleur was tense and asking that they hurry. The little flower girls were teary and cold as they stood in the snow for photos and Gabi felt like a bedraggled shepherdess as she juggled umbrellas for the bridal party and tried to herd the guests.

      She was wearing boots, but that was the only concession to the cold.

      Finally they were all in cars and heading off for the reception as Gabi ensured that the choir had been paid.

      Bernadetta sat in her car, smoking, as Gabi shivered her way down the church steps.

      And then it happened.

      Gabi slipped on the ice and bumped down the last three stairs in the most ungainly fashion imaginable.

      Not that anyone came over to help.

      She sat for a moment, trying to catch her breath and assess the damage.

      From the feel of things her bottom was bruised.

      Pulling herself to a stand, Gabi saw that her skirt was filthy and sodden and, removing her jacket, she saw that it had split along the back seam.

      To make things just a little bit more miserable than they already were, Bernadetta was furious, especially that Gabi had no change of clothes.

      ‘Why haven’t you got a spare suit with you?’ she demanded. ‘You’re supposed to be a planner after all.’

      Because you only give me two suits, Gabi wanted to answer, but she knew it wouldn’t help. ‘It’s at the dry-cleaner’s.’

      And, of course, Bernadetta spitefully pointed out that no one else had one that would fit Gabi.

      ‘Go home and get changed,’ she hissed. ‘Wear something...’ And she took her hands and sort of exasperatedly pushed them together, as if Gabi was supposed to produce something that might contract her size.

      And Bernadetta didn’t add, as she always did to her other staff, Don’t outshine the bride.

      Gabi, it was assumed, hadn’t a hope of that.

      Oh, she wanted to resign, so very much.

      Gabi was close to tears as she arrived back at her tiny flat and, of course, there was nothing in her wardrobe she could possibly wear.

      Well, there was one thing.

      The silver-grey dress made by Rosa’s magical hands, though Bernadetta would consider her grossly overdressed.

      Yet it was a very simple design...

      Gabi undressed and saw that, yes, she indeed had a bruise on her bottom and on the left of her thigh.

      In fact, she ached and was cold to the bone.

      A quick shower warmed her up and Gabi was, by the time she stepped out of it, actually a lot more relaxed for the brief reprieve.

      Wedding days were always so full on and it was actually nice to take a short break.

      When she had her own business, Gabi decided, she would organise a rota so that all of her staff were able to take some time between the formal service and the reception. Perhaps there could be a change of outfit for them too...

      Gabi halted.

      She was back to hoping and dreaming that one day she might be working for herself.

      How, though, when Bernadetta had her securely locked in?

      Still there wasn’t time to dwell on it now.

      The dress had been a gift from Rosa but, feeling guilty simply accepting it, Gabi had splurged on the right bra to go with it and, of course, matching silver knickers, which she quickly put on before wriggling into the dress.

      Rosa really was a magician with fabric—the dress was cut on the bias and fell beautifully over her curves.

      And it deserved more effort than her usual lack.

      Sitting at her small dressing table, Gabi twisted her hair and piled it up on her head, rather than leaving it down. She put on some lip-gloss and mascara and then worried that it might be too much because usually she didn’t bother with such things.

      Yet she didn’t wipe them off.

      Instead, she dressed to look her best.

      Tonight she didn’t want to be the dowdy funeral director version of Gabi, or the clumsy, fall-down-the-stairs, eternally rushed wedding planner she appeared at times.

      It СКАЧАТЬ