The Wedding Day Part 14

"Are you feeling any calmer?"

"Im a little calmer. Sorry about my outburst. I know you're under a lot of pressure too."

"Don't worry about it. If you can't vent at me then who can you vent at and you've listened to my moaning for long enough."

"I'm dreading meeting Amanda tomorrow," Evette sighed.

"Maybe you should try being more a.s.sertive with her," Nicole suggested gently.

"There's a fine line between a.s.sertive and aggressive and I'm afraid I'll flip into aggressive. You don't want me to offend our first official client, now do you?" Evette teased.

"No, I most certainly do not. So what's on the agenda for Amanda tomorrow?"

"Theres not much on the agenda, apart from pulling her hair out."

Nicole raised her eyebrows.

"Thankfully, she doesn't need my help with the wedding dress. She's already found a wonderful vintage number apparently and she's wearing her grandmother's veil."

"It sounds wonderful," Nicole said dreamily.

"Hmm, I wouldn't fancy wearing somebody else's wedding dress, vintage or not. I wouldn't want somebody else's history entwined with my wedding."

"Have you made a list of what you need to discuss with her?"

"Yes. The list seems to be getting longer by the hour. We have appointments to sample the cake with several bakers in the early afternoon. Thankfully Amanda and Kian have settled on a traditional wedding cake, so that shouldn't be too trying. Kian's sister is a dressmaker and she's providing the bridesmaids dresses as a gift. Kian is in charge of organising the suits for himself and the men in the party. They've already obtained their marriage licence. They still haven't sent out the invitations because Amanda can't make up her mind on the stationery."

"You seem to be making good progress," Nicole tried to encourage her sister.

"It doesn't seem like much progress to me," Nicole groaned.

"There's still a million little details left to take care of and Amanda seems to think that we've all the time in the world. Anyway, thats enough about me. Have you met your mystery man yet?"

"Pardon?" Nicole squeaked.

She felt the blood draining from her face and her head began to spin slightly. How could Evette possibly know about her meeting with Paul?

Surely Dad hasn't told her?

Evette looked at her quizzically.

"Isn't William Kennedy your mystery man? Remember, he wants to plan a surprise wedding for his girlfriend and he's asked us to organise everything?"

Nicole swallowed as relief swept over her.

"Of course," she laughed.

"It's going very well. William's the perfect client. He's left nearly all the decisions up to me and he always agrees with everything that I suggest and he's already paid half our fee upfront."

"Wow," Evette was impressed.

"When do you think you'll meet him?"

"He says he's very tired up with work commitments until the wedding so we probably won't meet him until the wedding day itself."

"Really?" Evette said in amazement.

"He's very trusting, isn't he?"

"I suppose," Nicole shrugged.

"I'm sorry that I'm having such an easy client and you're having the client from h.e.l.l."

"Oh, Amanda's not that bad really. I make her seem a lot worse than she actually is. Besides, you've been through enough stress recently. I'm glad you have a decent client."

"Thanks, Ev," Nicole couldn't make eye contact with her sister.

She was afraid that Evette would see the guilt on her face.

"Right, back to work," Evette plonked herself back in front of her computer and began to type again.

Chapter 15.

Nicole dressed carefully for her meeting with Paul. She agonised over what to wear and tried on four different outfits before finally deciding on jeans, stiletto boots, a pretty cashmere sweater and a leather jacket.

It was casual enough for lunch, but not too casual. It was important to give the impression that she'd made an effort but not too much of an effort. She definitely did not want Paul to think that she was trying too hard to impress him. After all, he was the one who needed to impress her.

She had been a nervous wreck all morning at the thought of seeing him again. She'd caught Evette watching her closely several times, but she hadn't said anything.

Nicole knew that her sister was suspicious at her jumpy behaviour. She was usually the steady, calm one, but she'd lost her temper twice already that morning and had snapped unnecessarily at Evette. She hadn't been able to get much work done as she was too distracted by her nerves.

She carefully straightened her hair and lightly spritzed herself with perfume.

Then she applied her makeup; lots of light-reflecting concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes, lashings of black mascara to lengthen and thicken her eyelashes, a light dusting of blusher across her cheeks and a final slick of lipstick.

She was finally ready to go. She stood in front of her full-length bedroom mirror and scrutinised her reflection.

I'll do, she muttered as she grabbed her coat and handbag and headed out the door.

Nicole glanced at the kitchen clock on her way out. It was quarter to one. She'd arranged to meet Paul at one o' clock in The Bistro.

How she wished she'd been able to tell Evette about her lunch date. It would have been such a comfort to have discussed the situation with her sister, but she knew that Evette would have been extremely annoyed with her and she didn't want to deal with her mood.

This was about Nicole and Paul, n.o.body else, and that's what she had to stay focused on.

She missed Paul. She remembered the many good times they'd had together. She remembered when they'd first fallen in love and how he would listen to her so intently. He could make her feel like she was the most important person in his world. He would always made time for her, no matter how busy he was and she knew unquestionably that he truly enjoyed being with her.

However, that had changed hugely. Paul had become the centre of his own universe and he expected her to revolve around him and his needs.

The more successful and important he became in his career, the less time he had for her. He hardly listened to her anymore and his eyes would glaze over when she talked about her day.

She wondered if he was capable of changing, of going back to the old Paul, with whom she'd first fallen so madly in love. She didn't know, but she did know that she was willing to give him another chance.

She walked slowly to The Bistro. The closer she got to the restaurant, the more nervous she became. She forced herself to keep walking.

The city was crowded with office workers and students on their lunch break. It was a relief to have the company and anonymity of the crowd all around her.

d.a.m.n boots, she swore under her breath as her stiletto heels began to pinch her toes.

She tried not to hobble as she slowed her pace.

"Need any help?" an amused voice behind her made her jump.

It was Paul.

"Hi," she grinned sheepishly.

"I'm ok. These boots are a little too tight."

"They're very s.e.xy," Paul said appreciatively.

She squirmed at his compliment. It didn't feel right to have him talk to her like that anymore. It was too familiar.

"Thanks," she replied stiffly.

He noticed her awkwardness and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. They walked the rest of the way in silence to the restaurant.

"Good afternoon. Welcome to The Bistro."

A very pretty, young waitress greeted them as they entered the restaurant. She had long, platinum blonde hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She wore a tight black tee-shirt and short black skirt. The uniform, although plain, still managed to accentuate her stunning figure.

Nicole stole a side-long glance at Paul to see how he would react to her, but he barely seemed to notice the girl.

The place was very busy with the regular lunch-time crowd but Paul had had the foresight to make a reservation.

"I've booked a table by the window, for two please, under the name of Schofield," he said matter-of-factly. Their waitress checked the restaurant log and quickly ticked their name off her list.

"Follow me."

She led the way to their table and handed them their menus.

"My name is Pippa," she smiled brightly at them. "I'll be back in moment to take your order."

Nicole was grateful for the distraction of the menu. She buried her head in it and studied the lunch-time specials. The silence that descended upon them was palpable and was only broken by Pippa's return.

"Are you ready to place your order?"

She looked at them expectantly, with her pen poised over her notebook.

"Yes," Nicole replied immediately.

"I'll have the garlic breaded mushrooms, followed by the Caesar salad and a portion of onion rings, please." She was trying to send Paul a message that there wouldn't be anything romantic happening anytime soon, if ever, between them.

"I'll have the same," Paul grinned at her.

Nicole couldn't help returning his smile. He knew her so well.

"What about drinks? Would you like to see the wine menu?" Pippa suggested.

"I'd like a white wine please," Nicole replied.

"What about you, sir?" Pippa turned her megawatt smile on Paul.

"Would you bring us a bottle of the Pinot Grigio, please, Pippa?" he smiled politely at her.

Nicole carefully studied their exchange.

It irritated her that Paul always felt the need to address everyone by their name. She knew it was a habit he'd had ever since she'd met him, but it bothered her to hear him use Pippa's name.

She tried to shake off her feelings of annoyance. She'd promised herself that she'd give their relationship a fair chance and she was determined to keep that promise.

Paul cleared his throat, a habit he had when he was nervous. Nicole wracked her brain for something to say, but she couldn't think of anything. She was grateful for the background murmur of the other clientele. Paul smiled nervously at her.

"How are your feet?" he asked.

"They're much better now, thank you," she answered quickly.

"It's a relief to be sitting down."

She forced herself to smile.

"The price we pay for fashion."

"Yes, indeed."

Nicole glanced out the window at the pretty view outside. The restaurant overlooked a ca.n.a.l and there was a boat moored at the water's edge. Paul followed her gaze.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

"I've always dreamed of living on a ca.n.a.l boat and cruising around the waterways."