A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge

by Liz Fielding

  ‘I’ve had a desk brought in here for you,’ he said, indicating the small table in the corner. ‘I’m out and about a lot so you’ll have the office to yourself most of the time but just say if you need some privacy.’ He produced a key. ‘The office is locked when I’m not here, so you’ll need this.’

  She’d have willingly sat on his lap if it gave her access to the Net, but it was clear that this wedding was a very big deal for Leopard Tree Lodge.

  It might be a venue for the seriously rich—who might, like Gideon, disapprove of their retreat being contaminated by mere celebrities—but everyone was feeling the pinch right now.

  ‘Thank you, David. We’ll be working together on this so it makes perfect sense to share an office.’ With that sorted, she moved on. ‘Next problem. Can you tell with what the situation is with Mr McGrath?’

  ‘You’ve met Gideon?’ He seemed surprised.

  ‘Briefly,’ she admitted.

  ‘Well, that’s excellent. I’m sure the company did him good.’

  ‘I sincerely hope so. Since he’s occupying the bridal suite?’ she added.

  ‘Ah. Yes. I was going to—’

  ‘As you know, the photographer will be arriving first thing tomorrow in order to set everything up for a photo shoot and then cover Crystal and Tal’s arrival,’ she continued, firmly cutting off what she suspected would be an attempt to persuade her to switch rooms. Gideon might be a valued guest but, while she was sympathetic, her responsibility was to her client. ‘Presumably you have some way of evacuating casualties?’

  ‘There is a helicopter ambulance,’ he admitted, ‘and Gideon has been offered a bed in the local hospital.’ She let out the metaphorical breath she’d been holding ever since she’d realised she had a problem. ‘However, as his condition requires rest and relaxation rather than medical intervention, he chose to remain where he is.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t? But—’

  ‘Our own doctor consulted with his doctor in London and they both agreed that would be much the best thing.’

  ‘But not essential?’ she pressed.

  ‘Not essential,’ he admitted. ‘But, since Gideon owns Leopard Tree Lodge—’ He raised his hands in a gesture that suggested there wasn’t a thing he could do.

  Josie stared at him.

  He owned Leopard Tree Lodge?

  ‘I didn’t know,’ she said faintly. ‘He didn’t mention it.’

  ‘He probably thought you knew. He owns many hotels and resorts these days, but this was his first and he oversaw every phase of the building.’

  Oh…sugar. Proprietorial was right. But surely…

  ‘If he owns this place,’ she persisted, grasping at the positive in that, ‘he must know that the room is taken. That every room is taken. Why it’s absolutely essential that he moves.’

  Except that he hadn’t.

  On the contrary, he had maintained that a noisy celebrity wedding was utterly out of place in this setting, which suggested that not only didn’t he understand, he didn’t approve.

  ‘He didn’t know about the wedding, did he?’ she demanded.

  ‘I couldn’t say, but obviously Gideon doesn’t have anything to do with the day-to-day running of the business. Hotel bookings are handled by a separate agency. Gideon’s primary role is looking for new sites, developing new resorts, new experiences.’

  ‘So why is he here?’ she asked. A reasonable question. This was an established resort.

  ‘His spirit needs healing. Where else would he go?’

  His spirit?

  Obviously he meant the man was stressed…

  ‘Would you like to get in touch with your office now?’ he asked, making it clear that he had nothing more to say on the matter.

  She considered challenging him, but what would be the point? David wasn’t going to load his boss onto a helicopter and ship him out.

  She’d have to talk to Gideon herself over lunch, make him see reason.

  He might not like the idea of a celebrity wedding disturbing the wildlife, but as a successful businessman he had to realise how much he had to gain from the publicity.

  So that would be chilli…

  ‘I’m sure you would like to let them know you’ve arrived safely,’ David urged, doing his best to make up for his lack of help over the cuckoo sitting in her bridal nest. ‘My computer is at your disposal.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  ‘If I could just ask you not to mention the facility to any of the wedding guests? If word gets out, neither of us will be able to move for people wanting to “just check their email”. People think they want to get away from it all, but…’ He shrugged.

  ‘Point taken,’ she said. ‘And I’ll try not to get under your feet more than I have to. In fact, if you could point me in the direction of a socket where I could recharge my net book I’ll be able to do some work in my room.’ Then, as he took it from her, ‘What do you do when the sun isn’t shining? You do have some kind of backup?’ she asked, suddenly envisaging a whole new crop of problems. ‘For fridges, freezers?’

  ‘We use gas for those.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s old technology. Gideon considered using paraffin but gas meets all our needs.’

  ‘So do you use gas for cooking too?’

  ‘In the kitchen. We also have traditional wood-fired stoves in the compound which we use for bread and roasts.’

  ‘Fascinating. Well, I’ll try not to be too much of a burden on your system, but I would like to check my email for any updates from Celebrity. The guest list seems to change on the hour.’ She might get lucky and discover someone had cancelled. ‘And I need to telephone my office to warn them that I don’t have a signal here.’

  ‘Please, help yourself,’ David replied, leaving her to it. ‘I’ll be outside when you’re ready to be shown around.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  From the original and chic to quirky and fun, add a highly individual touch to your reception. Use your imagination and follow the theme of the wedding for your inspiration…

  —The Perfect Wedding by Serafina March

  JOSIE downloaded the latest changes to the guest list from Marji onto a memory stick and sent it to print while she called her office.

  ‘No mobile signal? Ohmigod, how will the celebs survive?’ Emma giggled. ‘Better watch out for texting withdrawal symptoms—the twitching fingers, that desperate blank stare of the message deprived— and be ready to provide counselling.’

  ‘Very funny. Just get in touch with Marji and warn her that there are no power points in the rooms, will you. The hair-dresser and guests will need to bring battery or gas operated dryers and straighteners.’

  While she had the phone in her hand, she double-checked delivery details with the florists, caterers, confectioners. That left Cara, Gideon’s PA, and she dialled the number with crossed fingers. With luck, the answer would be sufficiently compelling to get him on her side…

  ‘Cara March…’

  March? As in Serafina…

  ‘Miss March, Josie Fowler. Gideon McGrath asked me to call you.’

  ‘Gideon? Oh, poor guy. How is he?’

  In pain. Irritable. About to fire your sorry ass…

  ‘Concerned. He wants to know—and I’m quoting here—what the hell is going on in Marketing.’

  ‘Marketing?’

  ‘I get the feeling that he’s not entirely happy about having the Tal Newman wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge.’

  ‘Oh, good grief, is that this week?’ she squeaked.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Damn! And bother Gideon for taking a sentimental side trip down memory lane this week. If he’d just stuck to his schedule, gone straight to Patagonia as he was supposed to, he’d never have known about it.’

  Sentimental? Gideon?

  ‘You don’t think he would have noticed six weeks of articles in Celebrity?’ Josie enquired, wondering why his staff had conspired to keep this from him.

  �
�Oh, please. Can you imagine Gideon reading Celebrity? Besides, he’s far too busy hunting down the next challenge to notice things like that. He never changes his schedule, takes a day off…’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Look, tell him it’s nothing to do with Marketing, will you. Aunt Serafina called in at the office to drop something off for my mother absolutely yonks ago. She asked me for a brochure and, like an idiot, I gave her one. I had no idea she was looking for somewhere unusual, somewhere off the beaten track for the Newman wedding. And I’m here to testify that she doesn’t understand the word “no”.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You’re the woman who Celebrity sent in my aunt’s place, aren’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. How is she?’

  ‘Spitting pips, to be honest, but that’s not your fault. She can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to her.’

  ‘So I’ve heard. Her design is amazing, though. Tell her I’ll do my best to deliver.’

  ‘Actually, I won’t, if you don’t mind. Just the sound of your name is likely to send her off on one. But you can tell Gideon that I’m entirely to blame and he can fire me the minute he gets back if it will make him feel any better.’

  ‘He won’t, will he?’

  Anyone with Serafina March for an aunt deserved all the sympathy they could get.

  ‘Probably not. Josie…about Gideon. Since he’s there, see if you can persuade him to stay for a while. We’ve all been concerned about him. He really does need a break.’

  ‘You just wish he’d chosen somewhere else.’

  ‘I have the feeling that Leopard Tree Lodge might have chosen him,’ she said.

  Terrific. Now she was involved in the conspiracy to keep him here. She picked up the printout of the latest guest list, praying for an outbreak of something contagious amongst the guests.

  ‘All sorted?’ David asked as she joined him in the lounge.

  ‘Not exactly,’ she said, skimming through Marji’s updates. No one had cried off. On the contrary. ‘We’re going to have to find another room.’

  ‘How’s it going?’

  Gideon McGrath, cool and relaxed as he lay in the shade, removed his sunglasses as Francis set down the lunch tray beside him, giving Josie the kind of glance that made her feel even more hot and frazzled than she already was.

  ‘How’s your back?’ she shot right back at him. She was in no mood to take prisoners.

  ‘It’s early days.’ Then, once Francis had gone, ‘The coffee helped, though.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she replied, helping herself to a glass of water from a Thermos jug. ‘And what’s on that tray had better finish the job.’

  ‘You’re just teasing me with false hope.’

  ‘It’s chilli,’ she said, in no mood for teasing him or anyone else. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you own this place?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  He said it lightly enough, but there was a challenge in those dark eyes that suggested it did.

  ‘It does when the manager feels he can’t ask you to leave, despite the fact that the room has been bought and paid for by a bona fide guest,’ she replied.

  ‘None of my resort managers would expect a sick guest to leave. You, I take it,’ he said, ‘have no such inhibitions.’

  ‘Too right. Although, since we both now know that you’re not a guest, you’d better enjoy that chilli while you can.’

  ‘That sounds like a threat.’

  ‘I don’t make threats. I make promises. Unless you make your own arrangements to leave, I’ll be ordering up an air ambulance to take you out of here first thing in the morning. You’d better decide where you want it to take you.’

  ‘Ambulances only have one destination,’ he pointed out. ‘They’re not a taxi service.’

  ‘Right. Well, that’s an additional incentive because I’m betting they don’t have an la carte menu at the local hospital,’ she replied, refusing to think what that would be like.

  He was successful, wealthy. Hospital would be a very different experience for him, she told herself, blocking out the memory of her mother shrinking away to nothing in a bare room.

  Gideon McGrath would be in a private suite with the best of everything. Maybe. Would the local hospital have private suites?

  ‘Is that really chilli?’ he asked gently, as if he genuinely sympathised with her dilemma. And, just like that, all the hard-faced determination leached out of her and she knew that she couldn’t do it.

  ‘I wanted you in a good mood,’ she admitted. ‘I even phoned your PA and gave her your message.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘The exact word was unrepeatable,’ she replied. ‘Have you never heard of Serafina March?’

  ‘March? That’s Cara’s name. Is she a relative?’

  ‘Her aunt. She’s the queen of the designer wedding. She wrote The Perfect Wedding, the definitive book on the subject.’

  ‘I take it there is some reason for you telling me this.’

  ‘You can relax, Gideon. This hasn’t got anything to do with your marketing department thinking up new ways to drum up business. Serafina visited her niece in the office and saw some photographs of this place. Quiet, off the beaten track, just what she was looking for.’

  ‘Why didn’t someone just say no?’

  ‘Apparently she is unfamiliar with the word. Cara offered to take the blame, fall on her sword if it will help.’

  ‘Only because she knows she’s indispensable.’

  She’d said that too, but Josie didn’t tell him that. Instead, she swallowed a mouthful of water, then, hot, tired, she pushed her glasses onto the top of her head, tilted it back and poured the rest of it over her face, shivering as the icy water trickled down her throat, between her breasts. Then she poured herself another glass before turning to find Gideon staring at her.

  ‘Did you want some water?’ she offered.

  ‘Er… I’ll pass, thanks.’

  She glanced at the glass in her hand and then at him. ‘No…’ Then, despite everything, she laughed. ‘You really shouldn’t put ideas like that into my head. Not after the morning I’ve had.’

  ‘Pass me the chilli and take the weight off your feet,’ he said. ‘My shoulder is at your disposal.’

  It was a very fine shoulder. More than broad enough for a woman to lay her head against while she sobbed her heart out. Not that she was about to do that.

  ‘You already said,’ she reminded him, uncovering the chilli and passing it to him, along with a fork. ‘But if your shoulder was truly mine I’d have it shipped out of here so fast your feet wouldn’t touch the ground. The wise decision would be to go with it.’

  Gideon grinned as he tucked into the first decent food he’d had for two days. She was a feisty female and if they’d been anywhere else he’d have put his money on her. But it was going to take more than tough talk to shift him. This was his home turf and all the muscle was on his payroll.

  She poured herself another glass of water, this time to drink, and needed no encouragement from him to sink onto the lounger beside him.

  ‘Damn, this is good,’ he said. Then, glancing at her, ‘Aren’t you hungry?’

  Her only response was to lift her hand an inch or two in a gesture that suggested eating was too much effort. Maybe it was. Now she was lying down, her eyes closed, the I’m-in-charge mask had slipped.

  He’d seen it happen a dozen times. Visitors arrived hyped up on excitement, running on adrenalin and kept going for an hour or two, but it didn’t take long for the journey, the heat, to catch up with them. It had happened to him once or twice and it was like walking into a brick wall.

  ‘Okay, give,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can help.’

  ‘You can, but you won’t.’ She caught a yawn. ‘You’ll just lie there, eating your illicit chilli and gloating.’

  No… Well, maybe, just a little. He was in a win-win situation. He could make things as difficult for her as possible but, no matter what ho
rrors occurred at this wedding, he knew the pain wouldn’t show on the pages of Celebrity.

  Short of the kind of disaster that would make news headlines, the photographs would show smiling celebrities attending a stunningly original wedding, even if they had to fake the pictures digitally.

  In the meantime, he had the pleasure of the wedding planner doing everything she could to make him happy.

  He smiled as he lifted another forkful of his chef’s excellent chilli. Then lowered it again untasted as he glanced at her untouched lunch.

  Was she really not hungry? Or was the food…?

  He eased himself forward far enough to lift the cover on her plate.

  Steamed fish. Beautifully cooked, no doubt, and with a delicate fan of very pretty vegetables, but not exactly exciting. Clearly, she’d taken the ultimate culinary sacrifice to give him what he wanted.

  ‘I won’t gloat,’ he promised.

  ‘Of course you will,’ she replied without moving. Without opening her eyes. ‘You’re hating this. If you could wave a magic wand and make me, Crystal, Tal and the whole wedding disappear you’d do it in a heartbeat.’

  ‘My mistake,’ he said. ‘I left the magic wand in my other bag.’

  Her lips moved into an appreciative smile. ‘Pity. You could have used it to conjure up another couple of rooms and solved all our problems.’

  ‘Two? I thought you were just one room short?’

  She rolled her head an inch or two, looking at him from beneath dark-rimmed lids. Assessing him. Deciding whether she could take him at his word.

  ‘Don’t fight it,’ he said. ‘You know you want to tell me.’

  ‘You’re the enemy,’ she reminded him. Then, apparently deciding that it didn’t matter one way or the other, she let her head fall back and, with a tiny sigh, said, ‘My problem is the chief bridesmaid.’

  ‘Oh, that’s always a tricky one. Has she fallen out with the bride over her dress?’ he hazarded. ‘I understand the plan is to make them as unflattering as possible in order to show off the bride to best advantage.’