shouldn’t be hard. I mean, it’s a tiny hand smack. One small, inconsequential meeting of palms in mid-air, as managed by most people over the age of two. But maybe the size of my stride is a little bit optimistic for the length of my legs and the narrowness of my skirt. And I certainly hadn’t counted on my second foot not following my first. But somehow the spike of my heel gets caught up in the pompom braid at the edge of Merwyn’s cushion, and where there should be a quick tap of palms as I do a swift dip forwards and back again, instead there’s a loud ripping sound. Before I know what’s happening my nose is lunging forward heading straight for Nic’s knees. Actually, that’s another optimistic view. On reflection, knees would be fine. The exact spot I’m heading for is so much worse – in one second’s time I’ll be doing a face-plant on his lunch box and then probably roll straight over to demolish the save-the-date easel, possibly taking in a cake table too.
I open my mouth to warn everyone what’s happening, but I’m halfway through the ‘waaaaaaaaaaaahhh’ when everything stops, because Nic leaps forwards and breaks my fall. So instead of making my full arc to flat on my face, I end up still standing, with my face crushed against his chest and my hips grinding his groin.
It takes a few seconds to register that the reason I can’t move is because his arms are entirely wrapped around me.
‘Everything okay there, Milla?’ Ivy’s heading over, and even though she’s using her best shop assistant voice I can hear the laughter breaking through.
I twist my neck, pull the strands of my messy up-do free from Nic’s stubble. Try not to listen to the sound of whoever’s heart is banging like a very loud drum, block out the wonderful man-smell atmosphere inside the windcheater, push my fists against his chest, and force myself away.
‘Grief, Milla!’ As I step back, Nic’s groaning. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Absolutely!’ Seeing I’ve just hurled myself at the groom, I’m keeping this as corporate as I can. ‘Thank you so much for breaking my fall. Next time you might like to do your coat up.’
Nic’s wincing. ‘Next time, it might be safer to lose a couple of inches off the heels?’
I’m appalled at the thought. It’s not like I’m rocking the professional bit here as it is. How much worse will I be with less height? ‘Maybe, in the interests of the job. I mean, a wedding organiser with a broken leg won’t be any good to you, will she? There’s just so much more to trip up on here than in Bristol.’
Nic’s biting his lip. ‘If you’re okay, I really do have to rush?’
‘I’m fine.’ Everything’s abso-bloody-lutely fine. Or it will be when he’s gone. ‘I’ll see you soon.’ Except maybe I need a reality check. I just chucked myself at the groom – again! My stomach feels like a big wheel. None of this is fine.
He’s halfway through the door when he turns. ‘Grab me a couple of tickets for the gin event.’ He gives a low laugh. ‘You can add them to my bill.’
I blow out a breath and turn to Ivy. ‘Two tickets. Did you get that?’ I have no idea why my chest just imploded. ‘Looks like we’re finally getting to meet the elusive Elfinor.’
‘Elfinor?’ Ivy tucks a strand of her sleek dark bob behind her ear and grins at me. ‘I thought he said her name was Pixie?’
And it’s only as we listen to Nic’s footsteps echoing from the stairwell that we see – he’s left his wedding folder lying on the desk.
Chapter 11
Thursday, ten days later.
Sera’s studio at Brides by the Sea.
Transatlantic flyers and white lies.
‘Two days before my wedding, and we’re remaking the dress. This is why everyone told me long-distance wedding planning was a mistake.’
Another day, another bride! And this is Calista, my next Special Request job, now known as Cally, since I hugged her five minutes ago. She’s standing in a column of white satin in the studio, peering through the curtain of her dark hair. On the floor below her, Sera is kneeling, dipping in and out of her pin box, while Poppy, Holly, and I look on. And judging from how wide open and bright Cally’s dark blue eyes are and the size of her wail, I’d say her wedding nerves are starting to kick in.
‘It can’t have been easy …