Something Borrowed

by Louisa George

  She nodded, a man after her own heart. ‘Sometimes I feel as if that’s what Jenna’s doing. Jenna, my sister—’

  ‘Aha. I remember a few women from the church. Was she the one who dragged you off me?’

  Chloe’s cheeks went redder than the beetroot dip. ‘God, yes, that was her. Oh, the shame. Anyway, she has lovely little Evie, who she adores. But she’s too afraid to get involved with a real life. It’s like she’s watching from the side, too scared to dive in.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Her husband died. Run over. Rather, he was mowed down as he waited at a bus stop to come home after work. She was pregnant at the time, and it was terrible. I mean, really terrible. Such a huge shock for everyone, but, obviously, especially Jenna. You don’t imagine how a life can just stop. But hers did.’ Chloe refused to allow her voice to crack as she spoke, even though the memory and the pain were still there. ‘She used to be so fun-loving and outgoing; she’d grasped life by the balls. And it’s as if she’s been acting through the last few years with a pretend smile and refusing to talk to anyone about it. Ever since Ollie died, she’s held back just enough to stop her from enjoying herself. It’s as if she feels like having a laugh would be a betrayal to the fact that he’s not here to laugh with her.’

  Vaughn’s eyebrows rose as he listened; then he nodded. ‘Losing someone can do that to you. Or you can go the other way, too far over the other edge.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘All that life’s too short stuff. Carpe diem, and all that. It’s just a licence to have a good time and bugger the consequences.’ He looked up at the wall of photos, and she noticed something in his eyes. A haunted darkness, which he let linger a moment, then brushed it off with a shrug. ‘But you do have to get out there. It’s hard to find the right way to grieve. Actually, there is no right way. You just get through it.’

  ‘Have you…?’ She wanted to ask him if he’d been there, had lost someone close to him, but didn’t know whether it was the right moment. Didn’t know him well enough to pry. And surely Jason would have mentioned if something so momentous had happened.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I have.’ Vaughn seemed to understand exactly what she was asking. There was a pause where he looked anywhere but at her. Mostly, he looked at the photographs, and where she’d seen darkness in his gaze, she now saw that lighten a little. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah. Me too.’ Judging by the look on his face, he must have loved her very much. ‘And now I’m trying to live up to the promises I made. You say things, you know? At the time. You make promises, and you intend to keep them all. Everyone.’

  God, she wanted to ask him so many questions, but it just wasn’t the right time. ‘Tough?’

  ‘Sometimes.’ He put his glass down on the tray and she was surprised that he looked a little embarrassed. For Vaughn Brooks, that was a very strange turn of affairs. ‘I keep busy. Very busy.’

  ‘Hence the restaurants?’

  ‘I have to make a living somehow. I got interested in food when I was travelling around. Getting jobs in kitchens, then progressing to formal chef training became an easy way to see the world. I could indulge myself on so many levels.’ He tipped his head and smiled up at the photos and his memories. ‘And I did. Hedonist at heart, you see.’

  ‘I envy you that freedom. It must be nice to just please yourself.’ Although he’d obviously been through some hard times, so maybe he deserved to do what he pleased, just like Jenna did. She’d been through enough to decide exactly what she wanted to do and be. Although, Chloe knew, sometimes people also just choose the easiest path.

  Vaughn was the most serious she’d ever seen him, and with it, there was a stillness in his body, as if he’d given it all a lot of thought and was totally content with his decisions. ‘Being my own boss in every aspect of my life has served me very well. No disagreements. No compromises. No complications or responsibilities past myself, oh, and the staff obviously. But there’s little emotion spent there. I like it that way. I chose this way of life, and it suits me.’

  Bingo, Chloe thought, as he took her empty glass from her hand and put it next to his on the tray. Was being alone the easiest way for him? Staying aloof and not getting in too deep? Being a grumpy old sod?

  He turned the heat on her. ‘So why did you decide to be a wedding planner of all things, Chloe? Instead of a bank manager or a doctor? Or a scientist?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘You hinted that things weren’t going so well. So, I’m trying to find the passion you once had for it. You can’t run a business half-heartedly. Why a wedding planner?’

  ‘I didn’t start out wanting to be one. When I was younger, I was happy studying for my business degree and then getting a paying job. God, it was nice to get a pay cheque; it meant I could start to plan and save. I’ve always been a planner, you see. I had my career path all mapped out, and I thought I was sorted for life. But my mum had always talked so passionately about her wedding day; the dress, the bridesmaids, the church. She made it sound so wonderful, like a fairy tale. Believe me, I am so over that idea right now. But, rewind a few years, I got bored working for the tax office with little opportunity to advance, and at the back of my mind, I’d always thought how amazing it would be to make other women’s dreams come true. Plus, like I say, I’m a born planner, and, okay, just a little bossy.’

  ‘You don’t say?’ His eyebrows rose, and he laughed.

  So did she, because there was, she realised, a certain amount of truth in the bridezilla comment, but it had stemmed from being a perfectionist and not from being a spoilt bitch. Although, it may not have come across like that at the time. ‘Well, okay then, I’m a lot bossy. But I struck out and started up my own business. Jenna’s was my first wedding. Then one of her friends wanted me to help her, and it snowballed. It’s a great job. I can choose the hours I work. I meet generally nice people and go to wonderful venues and create a fairy tale. It’s fun. I love it.’

  Loved it.

  ‘And now? It’s a trial because clients are few and far between?’

  Yes, let’s stick with that and not the whole fallen out of love with love thing. ‘I need a pep, yes. Actually, I need a fairy godmother with a magic wand. Basically, Jason cleaned me out when he left me with a full mortgage to pay and a business to run.’ She stopped short at trying to explain the Jenna and their mum conundrum.

  ‘And you just offer wedding planning? Not other events?’

  ‘What kind of other events?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Chloe. You have to think out of the box. Something wedding related? Honeymoons? Proposals?’

  ‘I think there are plenty of people who have cornered those markets already.’

  ‘Engagements? Baby showers? Divorce parties? Okay, that last one was a joke.’

  ‘Because it would be funny to organise weddings and divorces wouldn’t it? Hilarious. Yep, we cover you from the fairy tale to the nightmare and beyond. Funerals too? Why not? Yes, let’s add those to the list.’ It probably wasn’t funny, but she laughed anyway. And so did he. Their eyes met as they both swayed forward a little, and for a moment, they sat there just looking and smiling and there was a feeling… something new… in her gut. And heat.

  Was there…? Was she imagining heat in his eyes too? She didn’t dare to think. That was a stupid idea. He was her ex’s cousin. He was committed to life alone like a martyred poet or something. He was everything she didn’t like in a man. He was Vaughn Bloody Brooks, for God’s sake.

  She swatted any idea of his lips and his eyes and his heat away and focused on the conversation. ‘But a general party planner, I guess that could work. I do need to develop, but I’d have to change the name of my company. And then there’s my mum and sister to think about. They need to be doing the flowers and the dresses so they can make a living.’

  His smile slipped. ‘And all the responsibility for your whole family fal
ls to you? I presume you’ve talked to them about the financials?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t. Really. I can’t tell them. It’s the way we work. I run the show and drum up business, and they do the other stuff. We do what we’re good at.’

  ‘Which puts a lot of pressure on you.’

  Yes, it did. But Chloe didn’t want to come across as some kind of victim or airy fairy whinger. ‘I can handle it. Jenna has little Evie to worry about. And Mum… well, Mum hasn’t had an easy time. When Dad died, she had to look after us on her own. She didn’t have a network of family, and she barely had any friends. They hadn’t been over from Ireland very long, and she couldn’t afford to take us back and find a life there. She has mood swings, depression. But the sewing steadies her. I couldn’t make her give it up and get another job. But you do have a point; we need to diversify. Maybe costumes for parties, bespoke ones, obviously. Perhaps party planning… yes. Proposals, engagements, venue sourcing, wedding-related things—I like the sound of that. Maybe advertise that we relish taking on special themes. That we specialise in the strange and the wonderful.’ There was no way she would tell him about the frogs yet, if ever. ‘I’ve just been so stuck in one headspace I haven’t been able to see round it.’

  He grinned and sat back, satisfied. ‘Glad it helped. You need to work out a point of difference or run some special offers. Talk to venues and suppliers and get some dual deals organised.’

  ‘Oh yes, what a great idea.’ She sat up straight and looked him in the eye. ‘Right, Mr Brooks, what kind of deal can you do for me? If I bring clients here, what discount will you offer?’

  He threw his hands up. ‘Whoa. I’m just starting out here, too.’

  ‘In London, yes. But you do have two other restaurants, which means this is part of a freaking chain. You are a corporate restaurant baron, Vaughn Brooks, and I’m just a lowly wench dragging myself up. And I’m actually starting to feel a little excited about things for the first time in forever.’

  To be honest, just thrashing out ideas with someone else had made her more positive about her work again. Lately, sleeping had been put on the back burner while worrying filled her nights. Sometimes she felt as if she was going to explode with all the exhausting thoughts in her head. She didn’t want to worry her mother and sister with the dire state of affairs, but these thoughts, looking forward with new ideas, were actually quite exciting. How the hell she’d execute them, she didn’t know.

  She realised she was grinning inanely. Or even insanely. Somehow they’d ended up chatting so animatedly they were facing each other, knees almost touching. Almost too close. She looked up into his face, at those steady, dark eyes and the smile. Vaughn Brooks could smile a beautiful smile. Who knew?

  A silence fell, and it felt as if the air shimmered around them in the soft orange half-light. As if something magical could happen, as if anything was possible. She was acutely aware of the rise and fall of his chest. Of the closeness of his mouth. Of the heat in his eyes. Yes, definitely heat. And a need that was thick and… there, shining brightly between them.

  For the second time that evening, she thought about placing her mouth against his, of how he would taste. Of how much she wanted to kiss him.

  And of the many, many reasons why she shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t kiss Vaughn Brooks.

  The thumpety-thump began to hammer in her chest, and her hands became as sweaty as TheBigCarlhuna’s. If this was how she felt without even touching the man, then God help her if she ever had any kind of physical contact with him.

  Not going to happen.

  She stood, brushing her skirt down, willing her limbs to stop shaking. ‘Righty-oh. I’ve been here way too long. I should go.’

  There he was looking at her again, with a question in his gaze. Searching. Then he nodded assertively and the spell between them was broken. ‘Absolutely. I’ll take you home.’

  ‘No!’ There was no way she was going to sit with him in a car, so close. She turned away and picked up her bag. The atmosphere that had been charged and heated and expectant started to cool into awkwardness. ‘No, really, a cab will be fine. You have to go out there and finish up. Give Collini a good send off.’

  She followed him to the door, through the restaurant and to the street. Every step was difficult, forced, taking her away from a bubble of intimacy she’d relished. Taking her away from a risk. A chance. A danger.

  Once outside, the cool air breathed around them. She didn’t know what to say, so she smiled and clutched her bag to her side.

  And he stood next to her, tall and graceful and steady, his breathing wasn’t all over the place like hers was. He seemed completely calm. As the cab rolled up, he opened the car door. ‘Thanks for tonight, Chloe. You helped me out of a fix.’

  And helped her right into one. ‘Make sure you go straight to a temp agency and get someone to come tomorrow to finish off all that paperwork. And then get a permanent office manager.’

  He gave her a salute. ‘Aye, aye, Captain.’ Then he leant forward, and his lips grazed her cheek.

  Heat slammed into her, but she stayed stock-still, frozen. No complications. It was a good motto to have and one she’d do well to adhere to. There was absolutely no point in getting carried away with the way he made her feel, because if anything intimate came of this attraction, she had no doubt that a few days or months down the line he would be making her feel very alone all over again. And a little less together.

  When he pulled back, he was smiling. ‘I’ve been meaning to say… I am very sorry about what happened in the church. You didn’t deserve that. It was a cruel thing to do. I made sure I told Jason what I thought.’

  He’d stuck up for her? ‘Thank you, Vaughn. I doubt it made any difference to him, though. Jason can be very single-minded when he wants to be.’

  ‘The man’s a bloody idiot, what can I say?’

  And before she could read anything into that, Vaughn closed the door, and the cab was pulling away.

  Yes, her ex was a raving lunatic, that was a given. But his cousin? He was a completely different puzzle. And definitely not one she was about to try to solve.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE TAXI PULLED up outside her apartment building, and Chloe was surprised to see a light on in the lounge and… was that a twitch of her curtains? Strange.

  She paid the driver, and as she got out of the cab, she noticed a police car parked on the road, too. Not unusual, not really, in this part of London, but in conjunction with the light and the curtain twitch, it made her heart speed up.

  What the hell?

  Was everything okay? A breakin? Mum? Jenna?

  Shit.

  A million scenarios gunned through her head, none of them pleasant. Dashing up the steps, she simultaneously dug around in her bag for her key, but as she was about to thrust it into the lock, the door swung wide open.

  ‘Chloe! Thank God, you’re okay!’ Jenna’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a tight hug. ‘We thought you were dead. Oh, God, thank goodness you’re okay.’

  ‘Dead? Why the hell would you think that?’

  She followed her sister, who was shouting in wobbly but relieved tones to rapturous applause, ‘She’s fine! She’s alive!’ into her lounge to find two police officers—one male and one female—squished into her sofa with china teacups in their hands. Snuggled up against them was her mother. Who had lost her usual soft smile.

  On various dining and comfy chairs pulled into a half circle facing the sofa, sat Mrs Singh, who was her mother’s next-door neighbour, Faith from the pub, Saskia from the yoga studio and Kat, Chloe’s oldest friend from school. At their feet were sagging cloth bags bulging with books. Opened bottles of wine on the coffee table vied for space with cheese and crackers and dips and a large box of chocolates.

  Book Group. Was that tonight? Damn, it was. She’d clean forgotten. Not that she’d had time to read a word of the latest crime bestseller—ironically, about a woman who’d disappeared after Internet dating.


  ‘Thank the Lord! You’re safe.’ Her mother stood, her mousy hair falling into her eyes, eyes that were blotchy and red-rimmed. She ran trembling hands down Chloe’s arms. ‘And back just in time. I thought we were going to have to talk about books. Now, we can just keep going with the gossip. Tell us now, where’ve you been? What the hell’s been going on?’

  ‘I’m fine, Mum. Honestly. I was just—’ Chloe looked around the room at the gaping mouths, all of them hanging on her every word.

  And cops? Had someone arranged a show and tell to go with the crime theme?

  The female officer spoke into her collar. ‘Copy that, yes, she’s returned. Unharmed by the looks of it. No, she hasn’t clarified who the perpetrator was.’

  ‘Perpetrator?’ Chloe squeezed past the book group personnel wall and looked at the officer. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Your sister filed a report that you may have been abducted by a…’ The officer glanced at her regulation, small, black notebook and frowned. She sounded almost disappointed now that Chloe had been found. ‘Male, caucasian, going under the name of DrewsAmused.’

  ‘What? No? Don’t be ridiculous. That poor man. You haven’t… Oh, you haven’t arrested him or anything?’ Sure, he was a little odd, but he was hardly abductor material.

  ‘He’s helping with enquiries, ma’am,’ the male cop answered.

  ‘Oh, no. Please leave the poor guy alone. We weren’t a great match, but he wasn’t too upset by it. He certainly wasn’t dangerous. This is so ridiculous; it’s not even funny. You can’t go around thinking people are like that. He was actually quite nice. I left him hours ago. I’ve been at—’

  Chloe stopped.

  There would be questions. Lots and lots and lots of questions, she knew there would. They would read things into the situation that just didn’t exist. They would make wild leaps of imagination and such a fuss. They would want every tiny detail, and they would all be entirely happy creating scenarios in their heads that hadn’t happened. Even though she had to admit to having fantasised about kissing Vaughn, telling them about it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She turned to Jenna. ‘Why didn’t you just call me instead of the police?’