Sophie's Run

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Sophie's Run Page 33

by Wells, Nicky


  Dan?

  Rachel clapped her hands with glee, and Dan smiled broadly as he leaned across to give me a very chaste peck on the cheek.

  I couldn’t get over it.

  “What are you wearing?” I burst out before I could restrain myself. For Dan was clad in a traditional morning suit—except it was dusky pink.

  “I’m your mate of honor!” he said seriously and Rachel laughed excitedly.

  “Mate of honor? Get it? This was my idea,” she gushed. “Don’t you love it?”

  Suddenly, I understood Dan’s odd attire. “Your suit matches the bridesmaid’s dress,” I declared, stating the obvious, and Rachel rolled her eyes with feigned impatience.

  “She got it,” she said to Dan and Dad as though I wasn’t there, and I pretended to whack her with my bouquet.

  “Watch out, you,” I mock-threatened her, “I might relegate you to the back of the church and have Dan do the whole bridesmaid’s job by himself.” I giggled. “He’d need a bouquet, though.”

  “Oh yes, I left that in the car,” Rachel realized and shot off to fetch it.

  “Mate of honor?” I gently teased Dan. “And you went along with that? Aren’t you worried about your reputation?”

  “I thought it was a fab idea,” Dan protested. “One hundred percent appropriate. Besides, don’t I look rather dashing in pink? When do I ever get to wear pink?”

  “It does suit you,” Dad chimed in, and we all chuckled. Rachel was back, handed Dan a slightly slimmer version of her own bouquet, and we were ready to go. The vicar opened the church doors, the organ burst into life and we processed down the aisle, the vicar leading the way, then Dad and I, followed by Rachel and finally Dan.

  I vaguely took in that the church was rammed with people and that there were beautiful flowers. I noted the color patterns on the floor and on the wall made by the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows. I took in the church scent of incense and flowers and innocence. But mostly, I was focused on my wonderful groom, my thunderbolt-and-lightning man, Steve, waiting for me at the altar, his best man and childhood friend, James, by his side.

  My wedding day passed full of love and colors, friends and family, food and wine. After the ceremony, we went on a riverboat down the Thames. Initially, I thought the reception would be on the boat but it turned out to be just a mode of transport for us, the happy couple, and all our guests. I had a small moment of worry about how Rachel would feel being here, on a boat, reminding her of everything that had gone wrong, but she appeared oblivious to the connection.

  The trip took only about twenty minutes, but it was a welcome breathing space and an opportunity to meet all the guests. I was overwhelmed to find that Greetje and Klaus had made the journey; and of course I was ecstatically happy that they helped weave the run-away part of my life and courtship with Steve firmly into the fabric of our wedding day. It was lovely to catch up with Jodie, and to chat with James, the best man, whom I had met only very briefly a few weeks before.

  The boat finally moored in Greenwich, right by the Cutty Sark, which was where a photographer appeared to take a few pictures. The reception itself Rachel had organized to take place in the Royal Naval Cottage, although apparently the choice had been mine.

  “You said blue rather than green, and I know how much you wanted to get married by the sea. And you also said near rather than far. So this is the perfect answer because here the Thames is still coastal. So you are technically getting married by the sea,” she explained to me in a brief whispered conversation.

  Our reception hall had been decorated by Rachel, Dan, Steve, James, Mum, Dad, Steve’s parents, and Greetje and Klaus, during the night before. They had done a grand job with dusky pink and silver table runners on white linen, balloons, streamers and flowers to pick up the color scheme, and little bags of freeze-dried raspberries and strawberries alongside white chocolates truffles adorning every setting.

  “You said ‘both’ to ‘favors and flavors,’” Rachel supplied by way of explanation and I told her how beautiful everything was. She blushed deeply and waved my adoration off with an embarrassed flapping of her hands.

  The food was inspired. Steve, Rachel and Dan had worked their way through many a tasting—God knew when they had fitted those in—and eventually decided on baked salmon in a creamy sauce with a potato dauphinoise to die for and crunchy green vegetables on the side. There was wine on every table but also plenty of champagne. Dan had told Steve that he wanted our wedding to be fueled by love and bubbles, and had provided several crates’ worth of the real deal.

  It was after a short performance in our honor by Tuscq—including Dan, of course—that Greetje sought me out, taking me by the arm proprietorially and walking me gently but firmly out of the room.

  “What is going on?” I teased her, but she shushed and smiled. She led me out of the college, but I ground to a halt at the gate.

  “Where are we going?” I demanded to know, and she finally relented.

  “It is a German tradition to abduct the bride from below her groom’s nose on the wedding night, so that he has to find her and rescue her. It brings good luck. And now I am doing that for you.”

  I giggled. “You are abducting me?” I confirmed, slightly incredulous. “Where to?”

  “I don’t know,” Greetje chuckled. “We will have to find a pub or something.”

  “What, with me in my wedding gown?”

  “Absolutely,” she assured me.

  “But I will be so obvious. And anyway, how is Steve supposed to know?”

  Greetje had the answer to that, too.

  “Rachel has been informed. She will gently guide your husband to the realization that you are missing after a due amount of time, and Klaus will tell him that you have been abducted and need to be found. You see, all is taken care of.”

  “Your husband is in on this?”

  “Why, of course. He suffered this indignity at our wedding and has not missed an opportunity to pass it on. Of course, it was worse for him, as German men know that this will happen and swear they will not leave their brides out of their eyesight for even a second. And still…”

  She smiled in remembered excitement.

  “I was taken to a pub, too,” she explained. “But do you think my klutz of a husband saw me sitting in a bar? He walked in and asked…” Greetje paused to adjust her voice to mimic her husband’s, “‘Has anyone seen a bride?’ So of course everybody said no, even though I was sitting right there, and he walked straight back out.”

  “No!” I gasped, and “Yes!” she repeated. Meanwhile, she had started walking me into downtown Greenwich, and we picked the third pub we stumbled across. We caused quite a stir when we walked in, but we played it cool and sat down at a table in the corner. I was quite enjoying this little jaunt; it was weirdly romantic. How long would it take to be found?

  In actual fact, this was a welcome break. There was something I needed to do. I waited for Greetje to return to the table with our drinks, and excused myself to go to the ladies’ room, where I took a long, hard look at myself in the mirror. “This is it,” I told myself quietly. “This is it.”

  I locked myself in a cubicle and hung my dolly bag on the back of the door. I was so nervous that I struggled to undo the string. But eventually I managed and gingerly received the stick. I had read the instructions at home and I knew exactly what I had to do.

  Gathering up my skirts and positioning myself just so, I took a long pee, trying not to think what kind of figure I would cut if somebody were observing me.

  Done.

  I straightened up and flushed, closed the lid, and took a seat. Now for the wait.

  As I had no watch, I counted to sixty twice, very slowly. All the while I contemplated the ornate ceiling light, looking anywhere but at the stick in my hand.

  Surely, two minutes had passed.

  I let my gaze slide down, down, down until I caught sight of the result window.

  The door to the ladi
es’ room opened and a very worried-sounding Greetje called for me. “Sophie? Are you all right?”

  I stuffed the pregnancy test back into my dolly bag and hastily unlocked the cubicle.

  “’Course!” I smiled, probably looking slightly goofy but I didn’t care. “I’m absolutely fine.”

  By the time we returned to our table, the search party had arrived. Rachel, Dan and Jodie were talking animatedly, and Dan gave me a big, tender smile and a wink. Mum and Dad were at the bar, and Steve’s parents had just walked in. Steve was only a few steps behind with his best man and Klaus.

  My close and extended family, my nearest and dearest circle of friends, had all congregated here for us, for me. I looked at each and every one of them, experiencing a rush of emotion such as I had never thought possible. I smiled radiantly at my new husband stepping in to reclaim me.

  “You ran away again,” he admonished me jokingly. “This is the fifth dubious establishment we have searched for you.”

  “I was abducted,” I corrected. “I had no choice. But you rescued me. You are officially my hero.”

  I gave him a big kiss on the lips to the delighted cheers of everybody around us.

  “Any time,” he said gallantly. “We’re a team for good now, you and me…”

  I raised myself on my tippy toes and whispered in his ears, softly, so very softly.

  “…and now we are three!”

  Love Me Better

  (Sophie’s Song)

  by Dan Hunter

  Voice 1 (Me)

  You and me / We were meant to be

  Now it’s history / Why can’t you see

  Voice 2 (Sophie)

  You and me / Were never meant to be

  Can’t you see / There’s no history

  Chorus (Together, in harmony)

  But the time we spent together / Was magic in every way

  No one else could love me better / Make me cherish every day

  Me

  I let you go / You couldn’t know

  That it would break my heart / Tear my life apart

  Sophie

  I sent you away / Miss you every day

  I felt so strong / Now I know I was wrong

  Chorus

  Me

  You and me / We were meant to be

  I will get you back / I can’t leave it at that

  Sophie

  You and me / We were meant to be

  Now the time is not right / But our future’s bright

  Coming in September 2013

  Rock Star Romance, Part 3

  Sophie’s Encore

  Welcome back, my friend! Sophie writes. Thank you for joining me in this, the grand finale of my rock star romance adventure. Hasn’t it been an amazing journey so far? In the first story, Sophie’s Turn, you met my boyfriend Tim, and Dan, my favorite rock star, and you supported me while I was trying to make sense of a bizarre double proposal from the two very different men. When I made my decision, I could practically hear you cheering; thank you!

  In Sophie’s Run, you watched me fall in love with Steve, truly, madly, deeply. And then you witnessed the ultimate betrayal from a really unexpected source. I hope you weren’t too surprised by what I did next; wouldn’t you have wanted to do the same?

  Thank you for coming to my wedding in the end. I had the best time, and I hope you enjoyed yourself, too. Dan told me only yesterday that he’d want a wedding just like it, if he ever…got there. I was intrigued, but he simply laughed and changed the subject.

  However. The story of me and my rock star doesn’t end there, of course it doesn’t. If you’ve just finished reading Sophie’s Run, you might have picked up a few things about Dan that I don’t really comprehend yet. I heard a rumor that he has been secretly in love all these long years. So join me as the last part of the Rock Star Romance Trilogy unfolds right here, in Sophie’s Encore… coming your way on 7 September 2013.

  Rock on!

  Acknowledgements

  What a difference a year makes! When I launched my debut novel, Sophie’s Turn, I was in it, more or less, on my own. The past year has been an incredible journey of learning and discovery—in more than one sense, as I had the privilege, in February of 2012, to sign Sophie’s Turn, with the amazing US publisher, Sapphire Star Publishing. As a result, there are many, many people to whom I owe big thanks. Therefore, in no particular order other than alphabetical, please allow me to honor and embarrass the following wonderful people.

  Chris Longmuir, for supplying proper Scottish expressions just when I needed them.

  Deborah Smith, for being a real-time beta-reader, for offering unwavering support and for being my official photographer.

  Gordon Brown from Bluesdacious, for reviewing relevant sections and offering feedback—thank you for the local color.

  Jim Ronnie from Iron Claw, for inspiration and support, and for sharing real-life anecdotes that added real spice to Dan’s exploits. I look forward to using the rest some other time.

  Jon; I love you; what more can I say?

  Kaufhaus des Westens (KaDeWe), Berlin, for granting me permission to send Sophie and Dan on a totally fictitious shopping trip there, to meet with a fictitious personal shopper and buy a fictitious dress from a fictitious designer.

  Linn B. Halton, driving force behind loveahappyending.com; for being an amazing source of guidance and encouragement.

  Everyone at loveahappyending.com, for being a fantastically supportive team of authors and readers.

  Marleen Heine of Kurverwaltung der Inselgemeinde Langeoog, for sending a large amount of material about the island and patiently answering all my questions.

  Everyone at Sapphire Star Publishing, especially Amy Lichtenhan and Katie Henson, for signing all three parts of the Rock Star Romance Trilogy, having faith in me and my work, answering a million questions, and coaching and guiding me along the way. I am honored and humbled to be part of the Sapphire Star family. A big thank you also to my editor, Ellen Brock, for her detailed read, perceptive comments and energetic prompts.

  Sharon Goodwin, wonderful blogger and friend; for showing me the ropes when I was in danger of falling off the cliff. What would I have done without your timely, practical and sensible guidance? You rock.

  Shirley Mukisa, for being an ace beta-reader.

  Sue Fortin, fantastic writing buddy and friend; for always being there, for reading and commenting, making stellar suggestions and cheering me on.

  THE HUSH BAND, for their music, photos, and general rocking support.

  About the Author

  Nicky Wells writes Romance That Rocks Your World!

  Born and raised in Germany, Nicky moved to the United Kingdom in 1993. Having received two degrees, Nicky spent six years working as a researcher and project manager for an international Human Resources research firm based in London and Washington, D.C.

  Nicky left work in November 2004 to write her debut novel, Sophie’s Turn, before the birth of her first baby. Nicky currently lives in Lincoln with her husband and their two boys and is now working on the concluding third part in the Rock Star Romance Trilogy. When she is not writing, she loves listening to rock music (or simply the radio), reading books and eating lobsters or pizza.

  Visit Nicky at http://nickywellsklippert.wordpress.com/ where you can find articles, interviews, radio interviews and, of course, an ongoing update on her work in progress. You can also follow Nicky on Twitter and find her on Facebook. Nicky is a featured author on the innovative reader/author project, loveahappyending.com and has joined the Romantic Novelists’ Association. Nicky also has author pages at Sapphire Star Publishing, Amazon and, of course, Goodreads.

  Also by Nicky Wells

  Sophie’s Turn (Rock Star Romance Trilogy, Part 1)

  Sophie’s Encore (Rock Star Romance Trilogy, Part 3)—Coming 7 September 2013

 

 

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