Christmas Romance Collection

by Melissa Hill

  Then Terri glanced at Gary and suddenly she had a brainwave.

  “Ethan, could you do me a really big favour?” she asked.

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “I need you to talk to Gary actually. It’s what you said about pre-wedding jitters. He and Rachel had an argument last night, and I get the feeling he too is a little … overwhelmed by all this marriage and baby stuff. Maybe he needs to talk to someone who’s been there.”

  “I’m not sure Mr Knowles and I are the best of buddies, considering…”

  “I know, but he you got him to see sense very effectively, last time, didn't you?” She smiled, remembering just how Ethan had achieved this. Though she hoped that this time, it wouldn't quite come to that.

  “OK, I’ll give it a try.” Ethan nodded, still content to do anything she asked of him.

  After dinner, he got up, whispered in Daisy’s ear, and then walked to where Gary and Rachel sat at the head of the table.

  He said hello to Rachel, then reached out to shake Gary’s hand.

  Then in a time-honoured wedding custom he had learned years ago from his father, Ethan pulled out two cigars from his suit pocket.

  24

  Ethan leaned against the railing of the terrace outside the dining area.

  The two men were alone, and even though over dinner, Ethan had run through, in his mind, what he was going to say to the groom, he felt a little lost for words.

  Though he had kept in close contact with Rachel, he and Gary were hardly friends; the opposite if anything, considering how they first met.

  Launching straight into talk of pre-wedding jitters seemed too sudden. Easing into it seemed even more haphazard.

  So Ethan waited for Gary to speak first, hoping that some kind of transition would come from that.

  “Great cigar, man. You just don’t get these things around much anymore.” Gary didn't smoke, hated the taste of cigar, but it seemed like a some kind of manly challenge from Greene, and he wasn't going to shirk it.

  In truth, he’d been dubious about inviting this guy to the wedding, but Rachel was insistent that Greene had been such a major part of their ‘New York love story,’ as she called it.

  “Truth be told, I honestly don’t smoke them much myself, but my father taught me long ago that when you're invited to a celebration, you should always carry one or two around. As a toast of sorts.”

  “Rightio. Let’s make a toast then.” Gary raised his cigar high in the air, giving him the opportunity to cough out the thick smoke filling his lungs.

  Ethan saw an opening, “To you and Rachel on the eve of your wedding. While life may not go as planned, or maybe even better than planned, may you share an overwhelming happiness to last a lifetime.”

  Gary laughed. “Hear, hear. Short and sweet. That’s how I prefer my toasts too. And as for the planning part, I think Rachel would love that.”

  Ethan chuckled. “Yes, I’d noticed. She’s a wonderful girl, but I’m sure that aspect can be a little frustrating to live with …” He had found his conversation starter, and was venturing in even further.

  Gary rolled his eyes. “You can say that again, bud. We were arguing about it only yesterday. Big knock-down dragged out argument over nothing. Well, to me, nothing. To her - everything.” He looked down at the ground and kicked a little pebble over the ledge.

  “Let me guess.” Ethan pretended to pause for believability. “Is it money? Work? How about children?”

  “Ha! Right on all counts. Did you and the missus talk about children before, you know, having yours?” Gary was unsure if he was crossing a boundary.

  Ethan sighed. It was always hard to talk about his beloved wife, Jane. “We didn't actually and looking back, I'm not sure why. It’s such a momentous decision. But I wanted one and she wanted one so why not? But I was scared too. I think some women just know they're destined be mothers, while some men need time to be fathers. Me, I needed time.”

  Gary gave him a long look, then nodded. “Now that all the wedding stuff is ready to go, Rachel’s moved on to talking about baby rooms and kids stuff. And when I see her with kids — even just yesterday with Daisy, I know she’ll be a great mother. But it’s like you said yourself, it’s not her. It’s me.”

  Gary was coming to terms out loud with something he hadn’t really thought about before.

  Ethan was nodding. “Fatherhood turns you into a different person, make no mistake. You have this entire life so dependent upon you to be there, to need you to be more than just yourself. Some men shrink to that task. Others rise.”

  Ethan was speaking from the heart now. The last few years of being a single dad had completely changed him in terms of his priorities. Daisy would come first for the rest of his life.

  Nothing would ever change that.

  “I want to be that man too I think. I’m just not sure if…” Gary trailed off, thinking about the argument they had last night and the days before, how unfair he had been to Rachel. “But I don’t know if I can live up to what she wants. I’d like to give it a bit of time, wait until we’re a bit more used to married life before diving into such a big responsibility.”

  “Well, then tell her that then. You only get one life, and I think Rachel is definitely the kind of woman who’ll make it worth it. But you have to let her know how you feel, if you’re not ready. Don’t just go along with it for her sake, or you’ll all regret it.”

  “You’re right, Greene. You’re bloody well right.” Gary snuffed out his cigar and clapped Ethan on the back. “Thanks for the cigar.” He hurried back inside, while Ethan remained on the terrace looking down at the busy New York streets.

  His mind moved automatically to Jane, the woman he had planned to spend a lifetime with. He thought about what he’d just said to Gary.

  You get one life.

  He had lost that chance with Jane.

  And it was pretty clear, he realised sadly, that he had also lost it with Terri.

  25

  Terri looked at her wristwatch and then back at Rachel who was looking particularly bored, chatting with Gary’s best man, Sean. Her eyes were wandering as she slumped slightly forward. Everything about her said disinterested to Terri.

  It was time for her escape plan to go into motion.

  She snuck off to the kitchen area and tucking herself between the swinging doors, she counted to one minute in her head, and then burst out dramatically with a concerned and upset look on her face.

  Rushing to Rachel’s side, Terri kneeled before her friend and took her hands in her own. “Rachel, please tell me that you did not eat the appetiser.”

  “What? But of course I…” Rachel looked at her friend, absolutely baffled. But as she saw Terri’s head bob a quick yes, she realised this was her cue to play along. “ Yes—yes I did. Why, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh no, I just found out that the mushrooms were porcini, and you’re allergic, of course.” She eyed her friend meaningfully. “Look at your hands—they're already swelling. And your face is getting puffy.” Rachel gave her a disapproving look on the last bit. “We’d better get you back to your room to lie down for a bit. Gary can keep things going here.”

  Rachel’s cousin Linda stood frowning. “She looks fine to me. And, we have a big night planned for the bride after all.”

  Rachel pretended her mouth was filling with cotton balls as she tried to talk. She feigned swelling fingers and struggled to pull at her engagement ring as Terri led her out the doors and to the hotel elevators, as Gary returned, just in time to miss them.

  “That was brilliant,” Rachel laughed once they were safely out of earshot.

  “Come on. It’s your last night as a single woman, and I plan on giving you a night to remember.”

  They hurried to Terri’s hotel room where she and Rachel were greeted with a large bottle of champagne and two toasting flutes. The room was lined with various truffles and desserts—all of Rachel’s guilty pleasures.

  Terri immediate
ly headed for the champagne. “Now, let’s drink and be merry for tomorrow you will be married!” She handed a glass to Rachel, and poured one for herself as well. The two friends clinked their glasses together, and quickly afterwards began to devour the exotic treats that Terri had selected especially for her friend.

  A sound of an incoming message interrupted the background music and Terri went to the bedside phone to see who it was. Turning back, she proclaimed, “Second stop time. Grab your bag. We’re sneaking out.”

  A black, stretch limo waited for them downstairs as they quickly got in and closed the door behind them. A perfect getaway. The driver retracted the overhead roof window as they sped away. Terri stood up and put her head through the opening, and Rachel joined her.

  With a cool exhilarating breeze in their faces, they watched raptured as the streets of Manhattan passed them by. As per Terri’s instructions, the limo toured down some of the city’s most iconic landmarks, starting with Times Square. The almost endless neon lights and advertisements made Terri gasp.

  Tourists and locals alike waved and shouted congratulatory wishes to them as they passed by and Rachel shouted, “I’m getting married tomorrow!” Sounds of laughter filled the air, much of it coming from themselves.

  Their next stop was to a famed restaurant on the Upper West Side, one that Rachel had been raving about for years, but had not been able to secure a reservation during their stay.

  But she hadn’t counted on Terri’s persuasiveness or persistence. She had struck up an impromptu friendship with Jonathan the flamboyant designer, and using his Manhattan connections, and overblowing her and Rachel’s status at renowned chefs back home, had arranged for the kitchen to set up a little private dessert tutorial, much to Rachel’s delight.

  The resident chef had set up a workspace just for them as between courses, he walked them through the steps of how to make the perfect macaron, one of Rachel’s favourites.

  The two laughed at Terri when she as predicted, continually messed up the recipe. Rachel, however was focused and determined, just as she always was in the kitchen.

  The American chef doled out great advice as they went, “The trick to making a macaron or indeed a man happy, is to be gentle, but firm. Both thrive under a light touch.”

  Rachel giggled meaningfully at Terri and as the two finished and thanked the chef for their boxes of homemade macarons, Terri checked her watch.

  “Now, bride to be, we must get you home before you turn into a pumpkin. In the meantime, just sit back and enjoy the ride back.”

  Rachel was smiling as they sat back in the car and the nighttime streets flew by. “For someone who was so dubious about New York, you seem pretty happy here.”

  “Do you know what?” Terri replied teasingly, “I do think this city is starting to grow on me.”

  26

  The following morning, Rachel rolled over and check the time on her phone. Nine am. She had already been awake for hours, laying in bed motionless so to not disturb Gary.

  But more so she could dejectedly listen to the rain that was falling steadily from the sky, immediately turning her perfect, sunshine-filled Central Park wedding vision into a huge puddle of mush.

  She grabbed her robe, bag, and wedding dress, and tiptoed out and over to Terri’s room, as planned.

  Once again, Gary had been out cold by the time she got back, and despite their differences, Rachel wanted to stick to the old-age custom that bride and groom should not see each other until wedding. If she wanted to make that happen, she had to leave now before her fiancé woke up.

  She knocked on her friend’s door. “Terri,” she whispered, “It’s me. Let me in.”

  Before she could knock again, Terri threw open the door and thrust a freshly made mimosa at her. “Well, good morning, lazybones. I thought you’d slept it out.”

  Rachel was taken aback. Never in her life had she seen Terri rise from bed before at least ten. But her trusty bridesmaid was already fully dressed and ready to head off to the beauty salon, her own dress wrapped and ready to go.

  She had even taken the liberty of ordering a light room service breakfast for them both.

  To even more of Rachel surprise, she began listing off the day’s agenda as if by heart. “OK, so we have about an hour before Michelle meets us in the lobby. A car will be waiting for us to take us to the hair salon for twelve, and then a break for lunch before make-up. Then you get dressed.

  And after that, the limo will arrive to take us to the venue, where the cousins-in--waiting will be there …. waiting for us. Then pre-ceremony photos of the bridal party. Then shortly after that, Gary arrives with his crew for their pictures …”

  Rachel struggled for enthusiasm as she listened to Terri finish reeling of the agenda of a day she had spent so much of the last few years planning. She leaned against the window and stared out at the rain, which seemed to fall as heavily as her spirits.

  She and Gary still hadn't had the chance to make up and talk over whatever was going on with him. He’d been fast asleep when she’d arrived in from her jaunt with Terri the night before, and while she worried now that perhaps she should have waited back this morning, it was too late now.

  She just hoped that he would actually turn up today, given his recent withdrawal. What if the same thing was about to happen all over again? What if Gary wasn't truly serious about this wedding, like he hadn’t initially been truly serious about their engagement?

  He’d been railroaded into that through circumstance, but perhaps he felt railroaded into this too? With all her planning and organising and trying to make everything perfect over the last year, had she intentionally overlooked the fact that her husband to be wasn't quite as enthusiastic?

  Rachel suddenly broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of being left alone at the altar. It was bad enough to be made of a fool of over the engagement ring, but if Gary was about to do a last minute runner before their perfect New York wedding, she didn't think she would capable of bouncing back from that.

  Terri tried to distract her as she laughed again over how they’d had to sneak into their rooms last night, after running into Rachel’s cousins escorting two guys wearing cowboy hats back to their rooms. Rachel had hidden behind a plant while Terri crouched below a room service cart.

  “Can you believe those two? You better be thanking me for years for getting you out of that mess--” Suddenly, Terri noticed just how preoccupied Rachel was.

  She walked to the couch where her friend was perched and sat down beside her.

  “What if he really doesn't want to marry me, Terri? What if it’s happening again, but this time it’s my own fault? This wedding … you said yourself he hasn’t been involved much, but I was enjoying myself too much in the planning of it all to really notice.”

  Terri took her hands in her own and repeated a mantra to Rachel once again, “Sweetheart, you're an amazing friend, a terrific person, and will be a wonderful wife. Gary loves you and I have absolutely no doubt that he will be there today in Central Park, waiting for you with pride. What man wouldn't be?”

  “I truly hope so. Because this — not just the location or the dress or all the other wedding-related palaver — the second the man I love puts that ring on my finger is my dream. That’s the moment I always envisioned.”

  “I know that, hon.”

  “And I don’t know …I don’t know if my heart can deal with being shattered all over again.”

  “Rachel, trust me. That’s not going to happen.”

  But as Terri pulled her friend close for a reassuring embrace, she sorely hoped that what she was saying was true.

  Was Gary truly onboard with the wedding?

  She gulped, hoping and praying for her friend’s sake, that lightning wasn't about to strike twice.

  27

  A little later, the two headed downstairs to the lobby to where the wedding planner waited for them.

  Smiling widely and dressed in a pink Chanel two-piece, Michelle kissed them
on both cheeks, took the garment bags from them and passed them to the driver with stern instructions on how to keep the dresses wrinkle free.

  She then turned back to the ladies with a determined look on her face, “Before we go, I just wanted to warn you Rachel, that there is a slight … issue with the food.”

  Rachel stopped short, her eyes widening. “WHAT?”

  “What kind of issue?” Terri asked.

  “It’s nothing. Nothing really. Just that some of our catering crew is out sick—some kind of …summer flu apparently. My catering manager is calling in everyone they have, but I wanted to give you the heads up in case you noticed the venue was looking a bit, well, understaffed.”

  “Is that all?” Terri couldn’t imagine it to be too hard to find a waiting staff at last minute notice in a huge city like this.

  “Also, because of the rain, we will have to shuttle your guests to the Boathouse in cars instead of through the park via horse-drawn carriage as arranged, which obviously presents a challenge in that they will need to walk the rest of the way in the rain from the closest park entrance. We will use umbrellas of course.”

  Rachel sighed but nodded. It couldn't be helped.

  “And finally …”

  She hardly dared to ask, but Michelle’s face gave it away, “What else?”

  “It seems the flowers are running late. They may not be on site in time. There's flooding in Jersey.”

  “By late, you mean a little bit behind?” Terri asked. “Surely they’ll be there in plenty of time for the bride’s arrival?”

  A deeper sense of dread was very quickly creeping in.

  Michelle patted Rachel’s hand. “I really can’t say for sure, sweetie. But rest assured, I’m working on alternatives…”

  Before Michelle could say another word, Rachel opened the car door herself and slumped down on the backseat. What else could go wrong today?