by F. C. Clark
He stifles a smile. ‘Advertising our brand before we launch our ready-to-wear collection?’
‘Exactly! Look, don’t worry if it’s too much.’
‘My wonderful business partner, I would never let you down. Besides, I won’t need much fabric!’
‘OK, but if the pressure heats up, I have other dresses I can wear, or Valerie can get me something.’
‘Leave it with me.’
‘Have you thought about Friday – Mrs Gold’s ball? I know you said you don’t want to go, but you can change your mind…’
Mr Jones reaches across the table and takes my hand. ‘Honestly, I do have a prior engagement. Thank you for asking – again.’
‘Not a date, I hope?’
‘Most certainly not; I’m far too old.’
‘You’re never too old.’ I giggle, not wanting to make him feel awkward. ‘Can I ask you about the fabric for my wedding dress – who did you buy it for?’
‘No one in particular.’
‘Oh… I just assumed it was for a lost love.’
‘No lost love, my dear.’
‘I suppose I thought you bought it for someone special – a girlfriend.’
He takes a sip of tea.
‘As you know I went to France, where I visited many fabric suppliers. In a room full of wool and silks, the vintage lace shone like a star. I haggled for the best price, which happened to be all that remained in my pocket.’ He smiles and removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes. ‘The memory stayed with me: maybe that makes the fabric special. It reminds me of my youth, and a trip that is close to my heart.’
He looks sad. Change the subject, Harper!
‘I had a thought about my wedding dress – can you attach a small ribbon at the waist? It may give the dress a better silhouette. What do you think?’
‘Hmm, yes, that could work. I’ll source some silk ribbons, and let you know.’
‘Fab. You know, the super-bitch will be at Mrs Gold’s ball? That black dress will put her in her bloody place.’
‘Kate Harper – language! Remember, refinement and quality should run through your veins.’
‘She hates me.’
‘That may be so, but never lower your morals and manners to suit others – one day you may need each other.’
‘If hell freezes over.’
‘My point is, treat people how you wish to be treated. Never allow someone to alter your mindset by their own immoral behaviour. You have more strength than you realise, so I suggest you call upon it when you are in her company.’
Wow!
Max pulls up alongside Sutton Global, but I remain seated in the back of the Bentley, waiting for Luke. My mind is full of my two dresses, and how excited I feel about the first dress designed and created by Harper Jones. I guess it’s a start.
The sound of Luke opening the car door brings me back to the here and now, and makes me smile – for various reasons. He’s looking shit-hot, and I love my wedding dress.
He leans forward to kiss me – my thoughts exactly. I lock my arms around his neck, maintaining our connection for as long as possible.
Luke pulls away; his eyes gleam with gratitude. Dark and possessive meets dark and possessed.
‘Pleased to see me?’
‘Always. I had a fab afternoon. Luke, my dress is so dreamy.’
‘Apparently so.’
I look across at him.
‘My mum called – actually, she was crying. Apparently you looked like an angel.’ He tilts his head. I’m guessing the words ‘angel’ and ‘Kate Harper’ do not mix – in his head.
‘Yep, that’s exactly how your mum described me – an angel.’
Luke takes hold of my hand and kisses my fingers. ‘I didn’t want to burst her bubble and tell her that you’re anything but angelic.’
I tap his arm. ‘Harsh words, Sutton.’
He pulls me to his side. ‘The truth, Harper. And you asked to borrow my grandmother’s veil?’
‘It’s beautiful, and I wanted to involve your mum as much as mine.’
‘Thank you.’
‘So, where are we going for dinner.’
‘A hotel.’
‘OK, so what’s the meeting and dinner about?’ My hands run up and down his shirt, allowing my fingers to investigate between the buttons. A hint of flesh touches my fingertips. I wish we were going home.
‘You met these two men the day you wore my black shirt to work, remember? I’m buying their shipping company.’
I giggle. ‘The two Scottish men? They liked my scones.’
‘Nearly as much as I appreciated you wearing my shirt.’
‘I haven’t worn it for a while; it probably needs dusting down.’
His lips rest on my head again. ‘Do I have my impertinent fiancée with me, or are you going to behave yourself?’
I look up at him.
‘Luke, I’m always good, just don’t mess with my halo!’
Within twenty minutes we arrive at the hotel. I step out on to the pavement, and place my hand in Luke’s.
He leans to my ear. ‘You look hotter than you did this morning.’
‘That’s because you’re hornier than you were this morning! I suspect you’ve had a long hard day of self-discipline.’ I free my hand to give his arse a cheeky squeeze. ‘If I may make a suggestion, don’t sit too close; you know how bored I get with business jargon.’
We walk through the open doors to the hotel.
‘Not tonight – this meeting is far too important for you to tease me.’
‘Like I said – boring.’
He stops mid-stride. ‘Kate, I’m serious. Don’t test me tonight, do you understand?’
I salute Mr Businessman Sutton, and long for Mr Playful Sutton to return.
He frowns at my immaturity. ‘Kate.’ He takes the lead again and walks on.
‘Fine, I’ll behave. But I’m no use to you, and clearly may hinder your ability to perform to your usual high standards.’
‘I want you here! They’re a family-run business and—’
‘That’s why you want me here – to make yourself look good by showing them your family?’
‘Partly.’
‘Oh well, in that case I’ll try my best.’
‘Even you can behave for a few hours.’
‘Really? Care to take a wager on that?’
‘Yeah – your arse is mine if you fuck with me tonight.’
‘OK. Bring it on.’
His smile takes my breath away.
The hotel is incredibly grand. We are escorted by the maître d’ to our table, where the two Scottish men are already waiting. They stand.
‘Luke, good to see you.’ The first man reaches across the table and shakes Luke’s hand, followed by the second man.
‘Gentlemen, I’m sure you remember my fiancée, Kate Harper.’
‘Hello again.’ I shake their hands.
‘I see you’ve not brought any cakes with you,’ Alistair says in a broad Scottish accent.
‘No, sorry! Next time I promise a fruitcake for each of you.’ They both seem as I remember, friendly and warm.
We sit and chat. Luke orders wine for the table, and a waiter places menus in front of us.
‘We’re waiting for Declan,’ Luke whispers. ‘He’ll be running the majority of the business for me.’
I nod. But why is he warning me? I do have a few words to deliver to the Sutton boy in question, but not tonight.
My eyes scan the menu, which has far too many tantalising temptations. The men chat casually about work.
From the corner of my eye, I see Declan appear – and he’s not alone! You have to be shitting me! He’s turned up with a new woman on his arm – but she’s clearly not that new if their body language is anything t
o go by.
I’m forced to stand as the remainder of the table welcome the new arrivals.
‘Good evening, gentlemen, Kate – let me introduce you to Sophie,’ Declan says.
Sophie, who the fuck is Sophie? Oh my God, Declan Sutton, I’m going to crawl across the table and knock you on your not-so-sorry arse.
I muster a girlie wave and a hello. My scowling eyes meet his. I hope his eye-reading skills are on point.
Unfortunately, poor innocent Sophie is seated directly opposite me. I call on my inner strength, but it seems to have left the building. Maybe Luke should have taken me home after all.
The waiter takes our order, leaving me some free time to chat.
‘So, Sophie tell me about yourself.’ My smile is fake and so is my question.
‘I live in Chelsea and I’m a model – actually, I’ve just got back from a shoot in France.’ Of course you’re a model, all five foot ten of you!
‘How lovely for you.’ I take a sip of wine as Luke squeezes my leg. I’m fully aware of his warning. I will, however, remain obtuse.
‘How long have you and Declan been an item?’ This I need to hear.
Declan places his arm around Sophie, knowing my question is primarily directed at him.
‘You don’t have to answer Kate’s questions.’ He laughs and places a kiss on her cheek. Bastard!
‘That’s what families do, Declan, we look out for each other.’ I offer yet another fake smile.
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Alistair pipes up.
‘I think it’s sweet that you have people wanting you to be happy.’ Sophie kisses him. Oh my God!
‘So how long?’ I ask.
‘I guess it’s been about a month, right, Dec?’ Sophie says.
A month! Not a day or an hour, a bloody month! I may be shit at maths, but last week was definitely not a month ago. Dec, what the hell is that all about? I take a deep breath, feeling my pulse quicken and my temper gain some momentum.
‘Hmm, Declan has kept you a secret from us, hasn’t he, Luke?’ I nudge his arm.
‘Yes, he has.’ Luke leans towards me. ‘Play nicely.’
I look at him. ‘I always do.’ I lean closer. ‘Thanks for the heads up, Luke. Tell me, is Sophie another selling ploy?’ I fix him with a stare, although it has little power as I try to remain the best fiancée any man could ask for.
My eyes rest on Sophie once again. ‘Let me think. I saw you at the end of last week with Kiki, and you never mentioned your little surprise.’
Luke takes my hand and squeezes my fingers, delivering another warning. ‘Oh, by the way, Dec! Kiki thanked you for oiling her door last week. It was so good of you to shoot over there and give her a hand.’ I look across at Sophie. He was working her body, not her bloody door. Wake up and run!
‘Declan told me that you and Luke will be getting married soon.’
‘Yeah, we are – in Venice. We wanted a small wedding, with just family and close friends. My best friends will be there, Kiki and Molly.’
Declan glares at me at the mention of Kiki’s name, yet again. Glare away, Mr Sutton. I may need to remind him that he was in her bed last week, keeping her warm!
‘You would love Kiki – she’s the life and soul of the party, isn’t she, Dec?’
‘She sounds great.’ Sophie appears to be clueless.
The arrival of our food momentarily defuses my mood. Starters consumed, my temper back on track, and so too is my need to kick Declan up his sorry arse.
‘How long were you in France?’ I ask, even though I have no interest in the answer; it’s merely my way of causing Declan to squirm – the little shit.
‘Only a week. It was a great experience. I had the most amazing photographer.’
‘Sounds like a wonderful job. I went to France a couple of times last year – my friend Kiki’s dad has a villa there, and of course Luke took me to Paris for my birthday.’
‘The City of Love; I told Dec that we should go.’
Shortly the main course arrives, but my appetite has disappeared. However, my alcohol consumption is increasing – the wine is going down well.
Alistair McGowan stands to take a call, and Donald Kennedy moves to the bar. Luke excuses himself too. Perfect timing for me to attack Declan. I stand. ‘Declan, can I have a word in private?’ I smile sweetly, but I am seriously pissed off.
‘We can speak later.’ His eyes bore into me.
I don’t think so, you little shit.
‘It’s important that we talk. Sorry, Sophie, we’ll only be five minutes; it’s a business discussion.’
‘Go for it, Dec, but pour me some wine first.’ She smiles at me and then gives Declan a kiss. Poor girl, he will dump her by next week – if she’s lucky.
He stands and follows me to the entrance of the restaurant. I stop and turn to face him.
‘Don’t start with me, Kate. Do you know how fucking uncomfortable this meal has been?’
I look around, ensuring we can’t be heard or seen. ‘You should have thought about that before you brought your new woman with you – sitting her opposite me. For Christ’s sake, what is wrong with you?’ I point my finger aggressively at him.
‘You can’t tell me who to shag – you’re not my mum. Jesus.’
‘But why shag Kiki again last week? You know how she feels about you.’ I shake my head at him. ‘You don’t have a bloody clue, do you? For some stupid reason, she loves you – not that she’s told me, but I know she does. Honestly, I can’t think why.’
‘I’m irresistible… you should know all about the Sutton charm.’ He tries to smile, hoping to defuse my mood, but fails.
‘It’s not funny! She’s at home, trying to mend her broken heart. What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘I never promised her the world. We had fun, I lost my mojo and moved on.’
‘Lost your bloody mojo? You’ll lose more than that. I don’t understand how you can work your way through women like you do shirts.’
‘Kate, I’m not Luke. I don’t want to settle down. What can I say? I love women.’
I fold my arms. A precautionary act, as my hands are itching to slap him. ‘Too bloody right you’re not Luke.’
Declan laughs cynically. ‘Kate, you’re naive with regards to my brother. Christ, he fucked half of Chelsea before you arrived.’
My face falls. ‘What did you say?’
‘It’s what us Sutton boys do; we like women.’
At that point Luke appears, looking ready to explode.
‘What the hell is going on?’ His voice is low. ‘For Christ’s sake, get over your differences and sit at the bloody table. I’m warning you both, do not fuck with this deal. Declan, I don’t need to point out to you how important this is.’
‘Actually, Declan has just informed me that you’ve fucked half of Chelsea! What do you say to that? Your brother is a selfish, narcissistic arsehole.’
Luke’s stern expression shows his rage. ‘Declan… go before I lose it with you.’
‘Jesus, Luke, you need to rein your girl in.’
‘Watch it! Go – now,’ Luke fires.
Declan turns to go, and I shove him. He spins round to look at me.
Luke glares. ‘How fucking mature of you. I’ve had enough of this. You can’t control who Declan dates – and let’s face it, one-night stands are Kiki’s hobby.’
‘Looks like you have something in common, then – and for the record your brother is an arse, and so are you, letting him bring someone with him to this bloody meal.’
‘For Christ’s sake, get over it, Kate, and stop this witch-hunt for Declan. Sophie turning up was a surprise for me too.’
‘Ooh, poor little Declan.’ I mimic him, backing up Luke’s belief that I’m juvenile.
‘Enough.’ His eyes meet mine.
Without allowing Luke the chance to touch me, I push past him and regain my seat at the table. Refusing to make eye contact with him, I move my chair away from his. Distance is my best form of defence – all three inches.
The four men continue to discuss the McGowan and Kennedy shipping business. From what I can work out, the company is based in Glasgow, but once Luke takes over he wants to expand further south, with a view to going global and adding more branches. I sit in silence and watch Luke work his magic, with Declan as his assistant. They are good; it kills me to say, but Declan does have some of Luke’s skill.
We have dessert and coffee with no more arguments. Thankfully, the two businessmen are completely unaware of the battle that has played out.
‘So how many daughters do you have?’ I make small talk with Donald Kennedy.
‘Three, which means three sets of hormones, plus my wife.’ He laughs and swirls his glass of brandy.
‘How old are they?’ I sip my coffee, trying to appear interested, if only for the sake of Luke’s business deal.
‘Sixteen, nineteen and twenty-one.’ He whistles. ‘They’re good kids, but now we have boyfriends knocking at the door, is it wrong to lock them up?’
‘They’ll be fine. Besides, there are good men out there – look at Luke and Declan.’
Luke tries to smile.
‘I hope your daughters find kind, caring boys like the Sutton brothers; family is so important to us.’ I look across to Declan; he makes eye contact with Luke. ‘I feel so blessed to be part of their lives, wouldn’t you agree, Sophie? I tell you, Donald, I don’t think it will be long before Dec settles down, and has a troop of Sutton boys running around.’
Luke places his hand on mine, telling me to shut the fuck up. He should have thought about that earlier. I simply return his hand to his thigh. Screw you!
Thankfully the meal is soon over. Luke speaks to McGowan and Kennedy, and I begin to make my way to the foyer. Declan and Sophie walk on ahead, and she stops to face me.
