Proposal For The Wedding Planner. Sophie Pembroke
terribly wrong and she would be golden. Melissa was big news in Hollywood right now—presumably because she was a lot nicer to directors than she was to wedding planners—and her wedding was being covered in one of those glossy magazines Laurel only ever had time to read at the hairdresser’s. If this went well her business would boom and she could stop worrying about exactly how she was going to earn enough to pay back the small business loan she’d only just qualified for.
She might not have the husband she’d planned on, and she might not be a Hollywood star like Melissa, but once her business went global no one would be able to say she wasn’t good enough.
But of course that meant rushing around, catering to Melissa’s every whim—even when that whim meant a last-minute trip back to the capital to replace the favours they’d spent two weeks deciding on because they were ‘an embarrassment’ all of a sudden.
And, as much as she’d been avoiding thinking about it, a peaceful wedding also meant dealing with seeing Benjamin again. Which was just the cherry on top of the icing on top of the wedding cake—wasn’t it?
Another car—big and black and shiny—slowed as it reached the kerb beside her. Lauren felt hope rising. She’d asked the last of the cars ferrying wedding guests from Heathrow to swing into the city and pick her up on its way to Morwen Hall, rather than going around the M25. It would mean the passenger inside would have a rather longer journey, but she was sort of hoping he wouldn’t notice. Or mind having company for it.
Since the last guest was the groom Riley’s brother—Dan Black, her soon to be half-brother-in-law, or something—she really hoped he didn’t object. It would be nice at least to start out on good terms with her new family—especially since her existing family was generally on anything but. Her mother still hadn’t forgiven her for agreeing to organise Melissa’s wedding. Or, as she called her, ‘That illegitimate trollop daughter of your father’s mistress.’
Unsurprisingly, her mother wasn’t on the guest list.
Dan Black wasn’t a high-maintenance Hollywood star, at least—as far as Laurel could tell. In fact Melissa hadn’t told her anything about him at all. Probably because if he couldn’t further her career then Melissa wasn’t interested. All Laurel had to go on was the brief couple of lines Melissa and Riley had scribbled next to every name on the guest list, so Laurel would understand why they were important and why they’d been invited, and the address she had sent the invitation to.
Black Ops Stunts. Even the follow-up emails she’d sent to Dan when arranging the journey and his accommodation had been answered by the minimum possible number of words and no extraneous detail.
The man was a mystery. But one Laurel really didn’t have time to solve this week.
The car came to a smooth stop, and the driver hopped out before Laurel could even reach for the door handle.
‘Miss,’ he said with a brief nod, and opened the door to the back seat for her. She slid gratefully into her seat, smiling at the other occupant of the car as she did so.
‘I do hope you don’t mind sharing your car with me, Mr Black,’ she said, trying to sound professional and grateful and like family all at the same time. She was pretty sure the combination didn’t work, but until she had any better ideas she was sticking with it.
‘Dan,’ he said, holding out a hand.
Laurel reached out to take it, and as she looked up into his eyes the words she’d been about to speak caught in her throat.
She’d seen this man’s brother Riley a hundred times—on the screen at the cinema, on movie posters, on her telly, in magazines, on the internet, and even over Skype when they’d been planning the wedding. Melissa hadn’t actually brought him home to meet the family yet, but Laurel couldn’t honestly blame her for that. Still, she knew his face, and his ridiculously handsome, all-American good looks.
Why hadn’t it occurred to her that his older brother might be just as gorgeous?
Dan didn’t have the same clean, wholesome appeal that Riley did, Laurel would admit. But what he did have was a whole lot hotter.
His hair was closer cropped, with a touch of grey at the temples, and his jaw was covered in dark stubble, but his bright blue eyes were just like his brother’s. No, she decided, looking more closely, they weren’t. Riley’s were kind and warm and affable. Dan’s were sharp and piercing, and currently looking a bit amused...
Probably because she still hadn’t said anything.
‘I’m Laurel,’ she said quickly as the driver started the engine again and pulled out. ‘Your half-sister-in-law-to-be.’
‘My...what, now?’ His voice was deeper too, his words slower, more drawling.
‘I’m Melissa’s half-sister.’
‘Ah,’ Dan said, and from that one syllable Laurel was sure he already knew her whole story. Or at least her part in Melissa’s story.
Most people did, she’d found.
Either they’d watched one of Melissa’s many tearful interviews on the subject of her hardships growing up without a father at home, or they’d read the story online on one of her many fan sites. Everybody knew how Melissa had been brought up almost entirely by her single mother until the age of sixteen, while her father had spent most of his time with his other family in the next town over, only visiting when he could get away from his wife and daughter.
People rarely asked any questions about that other family, though. Or what had happened to them when her father had decided he’d had enough and walked out at last, to start his ‘real’ life with Melissa and her mother.
Laurel figured that at least that meant no one cared about her—least of all Melissa—so there were no photos of her on the internet, and no one could pick her out of a line-up. It was bad enough that her friends knew she was related to the beautiful, famous, talented Melissa Sommers. She didn’t think she could bear strangers stopping her in the street to ask about her sister. Wondering why Laurel, with all the family advantages she’d had, couldn’t be as beautiful, successful or brilliant as Melissa.
‘So you’re also the wedding planner, right?’ Dan asked, and Laurel gave him a grateful smile for the easy out.
‘That’s right. In fact, that’s why I’m up in town today. Melissa...uh...changed her mind about the wedding favours she wanted.’ That sounded better than her real suspicions—that Melissa was just coming up with new ways to torment her—right?
It wasn’t just the table favours, of course. When Melissa had first asked her to organise her wedding Laurel had felt pride swelling in her chest. She’d truly believed—for about five minutes—that her sister not only trusted in her talent, but also wanted to use her wedding to reach out an olive branch between the two of them at last.
Obviously that had been wishful thinking. Or possibly a delusion worthy of those of Melissa’s fans who wrote to her asking for her hand in marriage, never knowing that she tore up the letters and laughed.
‘She’s not making it easy, huh?’ Dan asked.
Laurel pasted on a smile. ‘You know brides! I wouldn’t have gone into this business if I didn’t know how to handle them.’
‘Right.’
He looked her over again and she wondered what he saw. A competent wedding planner, she hoped. She hadn’t had as much contact with Dan over the last few months as she had with the best man or the bridesmaids. But still, there’d been the invitation and the hotel bookings, and the flights and the car transfer—albeit she’d gatecrashed that. She’d been pleasant and efficient the whole way, even in the face of his one-word responses, and she really hoped he recognised that.
Because she knew what else he had to be thinking—what everyone thought when they looked at her through the lens of ‘being Melissa Sommers’s sister.’ That Laurel had definitely got the short straw in the genetic lottery.