Or maybe not.
She grabbed her clipboard and pretended to run her finger down the long list of tasks still left to do if Zara and Jason were to tie the knot on time, anxious not to get into any conversations that could end in the promise to have her hair dyed from its current honey-blonde to cobalt blue or algae green.
‘No one will be looking at me on Sunday, Jasper. Come on, let’s get back to work, there’s still the fairy lights to hang and the paper-mâché masks to finish. And I want to check on the wedding favours, and the linen needs folding into a shape that resembles those bird-of-paradise flowers. If the bride and groom can’t go to the Caribbean, we are going to make sure that the Caribbean comes to them!’
‘Okay, I’ll leave you both to it,’ smiled Freya, collecting the two bulky suit carriers she’d deposited on one of the tables when she’d arrived. ‘I’ve got an appointment in the Chandler Suite with Zara and her best friend Rachel who’s her chief bridesmaid, in ten minutes for their final fittings.’
‘Oooo, are those the dresses?’ asked Jasper, excitement scrawled across his handsome features as he ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip.
‘Yee… ees?’
‘Just a tiny peek? I won’t tell anyone!’
‘No way. You know there’s an under-pain-of-death embargo on revealing even the colour of the dress that Zara’s chosen. Would you believe I caught Theo skulking around the corridors of the hotel earlier, his camera primed, hoping to ambush me on the way in like an undercover paparazzo? He even tried to spin some yarn about needing to decide which light filters and diffusers to use depending on the shade of the dresses. Does he really think I’m that gullible?’
Lexie felt her cheeks colour when she saw the meaningful look Jasper flicked in her direction. She rolled her eyes at him but not before he’d seen the effect the mention of Theo’s name had caused. A satisfied smirk curled his perfectly shaped lips. Since her unscheduled return to Pengarth, both he and Freya had made it their personal mission to lift her spirits by trying to reintroduce her to the battle zone that was euphemistically called the dating scene, and Theo Barker, a journalist-cum-photographer-cum-reluctant-wedding-columnist from the Bristol Gazette, was the current prey on their radar.
‘Okay, wish me luck. Hopefully this will be the last fitting before the big day.’
‘Good luck, darling!’
Lexie and Jasper waved Freya off and returned to their tussle with folding the orange, blue and green napkins into a passable imitation of the bird-of-paradise blooms Jasper had arranged in the oversized Champagne flutes on each of the tables.
‘Mine looks more like a spaceship than an exotic Caribbean flower,’ giggled Lexie, holding up her third attempt.
‘It’s better than mine!’ said Jasper, pushing his tortoise-shell glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Lexie would never admit to knowing, via Freya, that Jasper actually possessed twenty-twenty vision, and that the vast array of spectacles he sported to match every outfit and occasion, were in fact plain glass.
‘Hi, guys. I thought I’d find you in here.’
‘Hey, Theo, am I glad to see you!’ cried Jasper, ditching his serviette in disgust and rushing to the door of the orangery, his shoes click-clacking on the black-and-white floor tiles before he deposited exuberant air kisses on Theo’s cheeks. ‘Don’t suppose you include the ancient Japanese art of paper-folding amongst your many talents, do you?’
‘Can’t say it’s at the top of my list, but I’ll give it a go.’
‘Told you this guy was a hero, Lexie. All he needs is a white horse and a charger and he can be my knight-in-shining-armour any day!’
Theo laughed at Jasper’s blatant flirting. The guy had certainly made an impact since arriving at the manor the previous night, explaining that he was standing in for his colleague, Cameron Anderson, wedding columnist extraordinaire who had come down with a bad case of food poisoning picked up after over-indulging at a wedding reception the previous week. Okay, so Theo was attractive in a laid-back, eternal-student-kind-of-a-way, with an unruly mop of dark curls and a sharp interview technique that had clearly been honed over the years he’d worked for the newspaper.
‘You know, I really don’t understand why the esteemed readers of the Bristol Gazette’s weekend magazine want to know about all this… this wedding stuff. Who’s interested in what kind of flowers are in the bride’s bouquet or whether the groom has chosen to wear a cravat or a tie, or who supplied the wedding cake and how many tiers it has? And how much does a gig like this cost, do you think?’
‘Over ten thousand, easy.’
‘Completely crazy! What possesses people to hop onto that merry-go-round?’
Theo shook his head in genuine confusion, with a hint of disbelief thrown in there for good measure. If Lexie hadn’t known he was a reluctant stand-in for the wedding column, she wouldn’t have needed to stretch her investigative skills too far to know that Theo disagreed with the over-the-top extravagance, especially when she’d seen the smirk on his face when he’d encountered the menagerie of stuffed parrots the groom’s control-freak mother had insisted they use.
If those brightly coloured birds had been the only things Nadia Jones had insisted on then she could have coped, but the woman had made it her business to be involved in every aspect of the organisation. After all, she was paying for Marley’s services, and instead of getting the organ grinder herself, she was getting her performing monkey – a fact she made sure she reminded Lexie of as often as possible. As this was the first wedding she had handled for The Cornish Confetti Agency, Lexie had decided to maintain a positive attitude to each one of Nadia’s suggestions no matter how last-minute and unusual – it was all invaluable experience for when, or more correctly ‘if’, she achieved her long-held dream of owning her own event planning business.
‘What do you think?’
Theo held up a perfect bird-of-paradise-shaped napkin.
‘Amazing, you’re a complete natural! Now show me exactly what you did,’ demanded Jasper, sliding gracefully into the seat next to Theo. ‘Watch and learn, Lexie darling, watch and learn. Oh God, you’re not going to take notes, are you?’
‘No,’ she lied, her cheeks heating up for a second time as she reached for a napkin.
From beneath her lashes, she watched Theo’s elegant writer’s fingers twist and fold and turn the three squares of unremarkable linen into something that, to her mind at least, resembled a work of art. She watched him rub his palm across the dark bristles on his jawline before selecting another set of blue, orange and green napkins and her stomach gave a surprise somersault of attraction. She immediately chastised herself – romance was absolutely the last thing on her mind; experiencing it vicariously through The Cornish Confetti Agency’s clients was more than enough for her to cope with. However, she was relieved to see that the recent debacle with Elliot hadn’t sworn her off relationships completely; that thought alone gave her cause for hope.
‘Hey, is that your phone ringing?’ asked Theo, reaching out to touch Lexie’s arm and sending a spasm of shock through her frozen veins.
‘Mmm?’