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'Bride.' Once seated between an elderly couple on her right, who smelt of lavender and country cottages, and a cool-eyed businesswoman on her left, who she just knew was a lawyer friend of Barbara's, Miriam took stock. She would wait until Barbara had arrived and then slip quietly out of the church at some point during the service; seated as she was at the back of the church, it would be no problem. And she wasn't running away. She quelled the little voice in the back of her mind with fierce determination. She needed to get back to the house; she had a million things to do, that was all.
As the Bridal March brought a hushed silence to the subdued chattering she took a deep breath and composed herself, her glance drawn helplessly to Reece as he escorted his sister down the aisle. She couldn't bear this; she really couldn't.
As she glanced through the throng to his tall, straight figure in sombre grey, Barbara like a lovely bird of paradise on his arm, she bit back the tears with superhuman effort. Would he ever marry? She saw the back of his head through a mist of emotion as they continued to the front of the flower-bedecked church. And if so what would she be like? A contained, cucumber-cool blonde? A sultry brunette? Or maybe a redhead like herself? And would the future Mrs Vance know that he didn't love her, that he thought himself incapable of love, or would she be able to penetrate that hard outer shell to the real man within, whom she herself had glimpsed once or twice?
She looked down as the minister began to speak, searching her bag for a tissue and wiping her eyes carefully. It was all right. Everyone cried at weddings. As the service continued she fought for control.
And then, almost against her will, her glance was drawn once more to the front of the church as she searched him out. She saw his dark head instantly, and also the blonde-haired one beside it, complete with little green hat, and Sharon's parents cosily seated in the pew directly behind them. The perfect family picture, in fact, and one of un
deniable intent in the circumstances?
Even as she watched, Sharon whispered something in Reece's ear, her profile strikingly lovely even at that distance, and as Reece bent to listen Miriam saw Sharon deposit a swift kiss on his smooth, tanned cheek.
Well, what had she expected? She closed her eyes, wishing that she were anywhere but in this church at this precise moment. For Sharon to leave her parents and join him in the front row meant far, far more than mere seating arrangements. As the choir led the congregation in the first hymn she slipped out silently into the cold white world outside, her mind and emotions going into a deep freeze as icy as the air around her.
By twelve o'clock midday everything was ready for the expected guests and bridal party, and as Miriam and Mitch took a few minutes out to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee in the flat away from the others Miriam caught her brother looking at her with a distinctly worried gleam in his eye. 'OK,' he said flatly, after a few minutes of total silence. 'Let's have it; what's wrong?'
'Wrong?' She forced a brittle smile. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'It's him, isn't it?' Mitch eyed her grimly. 'I knew it. Has he made a pass or something?'
'Mitch, I really don't think—'
'You haven't said a word in five minutes, which is a record for you,' Mitch said quietly. 'Now, I'm your brother, Mim, and I love you. At the very least you could give me a clue about what's going on.'
She opened her mouth to deny everything but instead found herself confiding in Mitch in a way she hadn't done since they were children. 'So that's it,' she said flatly as she came to the end of the monologue. 'End of story. Not that there ever was one really.'
Mitch swore a particularly virulent oath that made her wince as her eyes fastened on his angry face. 'I knew I should have taken this job.'
'I wish you had.' The ice encasing her heart had begun to melt as she had spoken, and for the first time since seeing Reece and Sharon together in the church hot anger began to seep into the crevices.
From the very beginning Reece had thought that he could dictate all the rules, she thought furiously, even going so far as to set them out in cold, clinical detail before she had even said that she was interested. The sheer ego of the man! And the self-obsession. However he dressed it up, he had warned her of the consequences of getting involved with him while making play after play for her, and all the while sweet little Sharon had been there in the background for when he tired of the game. Well, enough was enough.
She turned to Mitch, who had been watching the play of emotions across her expressive face with both apprehension and interest. 'But you didn't,' she continued tightly, 'and we've got a job to do, and then we can get the hell out of here and never have to speak to Reece Vance again.'
'Will you?' Mitch caught her arm as she stood up. 'Leave and shake the dust off, so to speak?'
'I already have.' She gazed at him for a long moment and then walked back to the kitchens, her back straight. She would get through the rest of this day with her head held high and then pick up the pieces of her shattered heart later. She'd have all the time in the world, after all.
Once the guests arrived the rest of the afternoon became a blur of frenzied activity. Barbara came straight to the kitchens to seek Miriam out, her lovely face radiant. 'I want you to have this.' She placed her wedding bouquet of white and apricot roses into Miriam's arms. 'I didn't throw it,' she added unnecessarily, 'although Sharon was hovering like some demented bluebottle.'
At the sound of the other woman's name the tears that had threatened to fall at Barbara's kindness dried instantly. 'It's beautiful.' Miriam bent and sniffed the softly curled blooms. 'And it smells wonderful.'
'You've made my day, Miriam.' Barbara's eyes were full of happy, sparkling tears, but strangely Miriam suddenly felt as though she would never be able to cry again in the whole of her life. 'You've worked so hard.'
'It's my job.' She softened the words with a smile and a hug, but as Barbara left to join the guests in the big hall she stared after her expressionlessly. That was all it was—a job. Just a job. Suddenly the difference between Reece's world and her own had never been greater.
The buffet was kept well-stocked all day, and with four waiters to ensure that no one had an empty glass the merriment was high by evening. She avoided Reece all afternoon, which wasn't too difficult—Sharon was attached like a limpet to his arm, and if Miriam hadn't known better she would have sworn that the elegant blonde was the hostess as she smiled and chatted with gracious composure at his side.
Miriam was just replacing an empty tray of cold meats with a full one when she felt a cool tap on her shoulder and turned to look straight into hard green eyes a few inches away from her own. 'Still working like a little beaver?' Sharon laughed patronisingly. 'It makes me absolutely exhausted just to watch you attending to all our needs.'
'Does it?' Steady, Miriam, steady, she warned herself as a whole host of hot words sprang onto her tongue. If Sharon wanted to cast herself in the role of lady of the manor then that was up to her—and Reece. She only had to stand the other woman a few more hours after all, and she just wasn't worth jeopardising their reference for. 'Well, an event like this doesn't just run itself,'
Miriam said coolly, her face straight. 'It takes a lot of planning and a great deal of hard work.'
'Oh, I can see that.' Sharon's barracuda-type smile faded as she slanted her lovely green eyes to accompany a disdainful pout. 'But don't you find it all so boring? I'd just die if I had to cook all day; I'm afraid I can't boil an egg.'
'Really?' Miriam signalled for Vera to take some dirty plates into the kitchen. 'Well, neither can Barbara, so you're in good company,' she said politely as she tried to edge away.
