Unveiling The Bridesmaid. Jessica Gilmore

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      A street artist. Hope’s heart sank. However talented he was, that didn’t sound too promising as far as setting up a home was concerned and Faith had no career or any idea what she wanted to do after this year was up. She forced another smile. ‘How romantic. I can’t wait to see the portrait—and meet Hunter in person rather than through a screen.’

      ‘You will! In just over two weeks. That’s when we’re getting married! In New York and...’ Faith adopted a pleading expression Hope knew only too well. ‘I was really hoping you’d take care of some of the details for me.’

      Hope froze. She knew what ‘taking care of some of the details’ meant in Faith speak. It meant do everything. And usually she did, happily. Only this was her first time away from her responsibilities in nine years. It was meant to be Hope Getting A Life Time.

      Admittedly she hadn’t actually got very far yet. Oh, she’d rushed out her first week here in New York and splashed out on a new wardrobe full of bright and striking clothes, had her hair cut and styled. But she couldn’t rid herself of feeling like the same old boring Hope. Still, there were three months of her job swap left. She still had every opportunity to do something new and exciting. She just needed to get started.

      ‘Details?’ she said cautiously.

      ‘Hunter and I want a small, intimate wedding in New York—just close family and a few friends. His mother will host a big reception party a couple of days later and Hunter says she’ll go all out so I think the wedding day should be very simple. Just the ceremony, dinner and maybe some entertainment? You can handle that, can’t you? I won’t be there until a couple of days before the wedding. Hunter hasn’t finished his course and I don’t want to leave him alone. Besides, you are so good at organising you’ll do a much better job than I ever could. You make everything special.’

      Hope’s heart softened at the last sentence; she’d worked so hard to give Faith a perfect childhood. ‘Faith, honey, I’m more than happy to help but why so very soon? Why not have it later on and plan it yourself? Travel first, like you arranged.’ Give yourself more time to get to know each other, she added silently.

      ‘Because we love each other and want to be together as soon as possible. I’m still going travelling—only with Hunter on our honeymoon. Australia and Bali and New Zealand and Thailand. It’s going to be the longest and most romantic honeymoon ever. Thank you, Hope, I knew I could rely on you. I’m going to send you some ideas, okay? My measurements for dresses, flowers, colours, you know the kind of thing. But you know my taste. I know whatever you pick will be perfect.’

      ‘Great. That will be really good.’ Hope tried to keep her voice enthusiastic but inside she was panicking. How on earth could she work the twelve-hour days her whole office took for granted and plan a wedding in just two weeks? ‘Thing is I do have to work, you know, sweetie. My time is limited and I still don’t know New York all that well. Are you sure I’m the best person for the job?’ She knew the route between her apartment and the office. She knew a nice walk around Central Park. She knew her favourite bookstore and where to buy the perfect coffee. She wasn’t sure any of that would be much use in this situation.

      Faith didn’t seem to notice any of her sister’s subtext, ploughing on in breathless excitement. ‘There’s no budget, Hope, whatever you think is most suitable. Don’t worry how much it costs.’

      Hope swallowed. ‘No budget?’ Although she and Faith had never been poor exactly, money had been tight for years. Her parents had been reasonably well insured and the mortgage on their Victorian terrace in north London had been paid off after they died, but after that tax had swallowed up most of their inheritance. She had had to raise Faith on her wages—and at eighteen with little work experience those wages had been pretty meagre. ‘Faith, I know that you have your nest egg from Mum and Dad but I don’t think it’ll stretch to an extravagant wedding.’ Was Faith expecting Hope to contribute? She would love to buy her sister her wedding dress, but the words ‘no budget’ sent chills down her spine.

      ‘Oh, Faith doesn’t need to touch her money—I’m taking care of everything,’ Hunter said, reappearing behind Faith. ‘I’ve arranged for a credit card to be sent to you.’ Hope’s eyes flew open at this casual sentence. ‘For expenses and deposits and things. Anything you need.’

      ‘For anything I need?’ Hope repeated unable to take the words in. ‘But...’

      ‘Only the best,’ Hunter continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Anyone gives you any trouble just mention my name—or my mother’s, Misty Carlyle. They should fall into line pretty quickly.’

      ‘Mention your name. Okay.’ She seemed incapable of doing anything other than parroting his words but the whole situation had just jumped from bizarre to surreal. How did a street artist in Prague have the power to send credit cards for a budget-free wedding shopping spree across the ocean without batting an eyelid? Just who was Faith marrying? A Kennedy?

      ‘Actually, the best person to speak to will be my stepbrother Gael. Gael O’Connor. He only lives a few blocks away from you and he knows everyone. Here, I’ll email you the address and his number and let him know to expect you.’ He beamed as if it was all sorted. For Faith and him it was, she supposed. They could carry on being in love in their gorgeous attic room staring out at the medieval castle while Hope battled New York humidity to organise them the perfect wedding.

      Well, she would, with the help of Hunter’s unexpected largesse. She would make it perfect for her sister if it killed her. Only she wasn’t going to do it alone. She was all for equality and there was nothing to say wedding planning had to be the sole preserve of the bride’s family after all. As soon as it was a respectable hour she would visit Mr Gael O’Connor and enlist his help. Or press-gang him. She really didn’t mind which it was, as long as Faith ended up with the wedding of her dreams.

      * * *

      Gael O’Connor glanced at his watch and tried not to sigh. Sighing hadn’t helped last time he checked, nor had pacing, nor had swearing. But when you hired a professional you expected professional behaviour. Not tardiness. Not an entire twenty minutes’ worth of tardiness.

      He swivelled round to stare out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one whole side of his studio. Usually looking out over Manhattan soothed him or inspired him, whatever he needed. Reminded him that he had earned this view, this space. Reminded him that he mattered. But today all it told him was that he was taking a huge gamble with his career and his reputation.

      Twenty-five minutes late. He had to keep busy, not waste another second. Turning, he assessed once again the way the summer morning light fell on the red velvet chaise longue so carefully positioned in the middle of the room, the only piece of furniture in the large studio. His bed and clothes were up on the mezzanine, the kitchen and bathroom were tucked away behind a discreet door at the end of the apartment. He liked to keep this main space clutter-free. He needed to be able to concentrate.

      Only right now there was nothing to concentrate on except the seconds ticking away.

      Gael resumed pacing. Five minutes, he would give her five more minutes and if she hadn’t arrived by then he would make sure she never worked in this city again. Hang on. Was that the buzzer? It had never been more welcome. He crossed the room swiftly. ‘Yes?’

      ‘There’s a young lady to see you, sir. Name of...’

      ‘Send her up.’ At last. Gael walked back over to the windows and breathed in the view: the skyscrapers dominating the iconic skyline, the new, glittering towers shooting СКАЧАТЬ