mother, ‘but it is a solution.’
‘Well, yes, I…I suppose so,’ Heather said before Jess could object again. ‘It would also make Krissie feel better. She thinks she’s spoiled her best friend’s wedding. Not to mention the wedding photos. Catherine was only having the two bridesmaids and now she’s down to one.’
‘It’s a perfectly sensible solution,’ Glen said with typical male pragmatism. ‘Andy!’ he called out. ‘Ben here said Jess would be willing to take Krissie’s place, if it’s all right with Catherine.’
Jess held her breath whilst Andy explained Ben’s suggestion to his bride.
‘She’s Ben’s new girlfriend,’ Andy went on when he was obviously asked for further explanation. ‘Her name is Jess. They only met recently. Over some business deal in Sydney. Anyway, Ben got his rental car totalled by some drunk and Jess offered to drive him out here… She’ll look great in the wedding photos.’
Jess cringed, not sure now if she wanted the bride to say yay or nay. Still, it wasn’t as though she wouldn’t have been at the wedding anyway. And if it made everyone a bit happier… After all, weddings were supposed to be happy occasions.
Andy turned to face Jess. ‘She says thanks heaps for the offer. Says you’ve really saved the day, but she would still have to see you asap. Something about whether the dress would fit you or not. It might need altering. Krissie was pregnant, after all.’
‘Fine,’ Ben said, standing up. ‘Tell Catherine we’ll be over straight away.’
After Andy relayed Ben’s message, he shot his friend a droll look. ‘She says I’m not allowed to come. Something about my not being allowed to see any of the dresses before the big day.’ He rolled his eyes and placed his hand over the phone. ‘Women! Truly.’
‘No sweat, Andy. Tell Catherine we’re on our way.’ Taking Jess’s hand, Ben pulled her to her feet, made his excuses to an understanding Glen and Heather, then steered Jess from the room.
‘Make sure you’re back for tonight, Ben,’ Andy threw after them.
‘Will do,’ Ben threw back.
Jess resisted resorting to belated objections on the way out. What was done was done.
‘Don’t be angry with me,’ Ben said as they climbed into their respective seats in the SUV.
‘I’m not,’ Jess said with a somewhat resigned sigh, then started the engine. ‘But it might be an idea if you didn’t always presume I would do whatever you wanted. A girl likes to be consulted first.’
He seemed startled by her stand. Clearly, he was used to women kow-towing to him all the time.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was just trying to fix things for Andy.’
‘Yes, I know that. That’s why I’m not angry.’
‘Good. But I will try to be more thoughtful in future. Right, you just turn left when we hit the main road and it’s the next driveway along. Catherine’s parents own a horse stud. Racehorses.’
‘So they’re rich too?’
‘Not as rich as Andy’s folks. But, yes, they’re well off.’
‘Do you have any poor friends?’
Ben hesitated before answering.
‘Not many,’ he said.
‘I thought not,’ she said drily. Rich people mixed with rich people. She was the odd one out here.
‘There’s the driveway,’ he said, pointing.
This one was more impressive than Andy’s driveway, with a huge, black iron archway connecting the tall brick gateposts with the name ‘Winning Post Stud’ outlined in red. The road itself—which was concreted rather than tarred—was lined with white-painted wooden fences behind which grazed the most beautiful horses Jess had ever seen, some of them with foals at foot. She wasn’t a horse person herself but her father liked a flutter on the races and she always had a bet on the Melbourne Cup every year. Often won too, which piqued her dad considerably, since she knew next to nothing about form. Mostly she just picked names that she liked.
The house itself was similar in style to Heather and Glen’s but genuinely old, made of stone rather than wood. It was also two-storeyed with iron lacework on the verandas and lots of chimneys.
Jess parked outside the large shed behind the house.
‘Before we go in, exactly what did you tell Andy about me?’
‘I said you were a marketing consultant I’d met connected with Fab Fashions. But I did let him think we’d met a week or so back, not this morning.’
His reminding her that they’d just met today startled Jess. It underlined just how far they’d come in a few short hours. She should have been more shocked, she supposed. But she was beyond shock. When she shook her head in a type of confusion, he leant over and brushed his lips over hers.
‘Don’t stress the small stuff, Jess,’ he murmured against her quivering mouth. ‘Just go with the flow.’
When his head lifted she blinked up at him. He wasn’t a flow, she realised. He was a raging current which threatened to carry her out to sea and leave her there, like so much flotsam.
‘Ah, here’s Catherine, and presumably the other bridesmaid, come to meet us,’ Ben said and reached for the door handle.
With an effort, Jess pulled herself together.
Catherine turned out to be a right sweetie. Late twenties, Jess guessed. Above-average height, with an athletic figure and blonde hair. Possibly not a natural blonde, but it suited her. She was very attractive with blue eyes and a warm, friendly manner. Nothing bitchy or snobby about her at all. Jess didn’t like her bridesmaid nearly as much, perhaps because she made eyes at Ben from the moment she made an appearance. Her name was Leanne and she and Catherine had gone to boarding school together at some college in Bathurst, along with Krissie, who was the only one of the three friends who’d married so far.
‘The teachers at school called us “the unholy trinity”,’ Catherine said, smiling.
‘We were a bit naughty,’ Leanne trilled.
‘I can’t believe that,’ Ben said, annoying Jess with his flirtatious tone. If he was trying to make her jealous, then he was being successful!
After a little more idle chit-chat, Jess and Ben were led inside the house, where they refused offers of another afternoon tea from Catherine’s harried-looking mother. Her name was Joan, a handsome woman, but way too thin, with anxious eyes.
‘We just had afternoon tea at Andy’s place,’ Ben explained.
‘I see,’ she muttered, then gave Jess a frowning once-over. ‘You’re a lovely looking girl, dear, but I don’t think you’re going to fit into Krissie’s dress.’
‘I don’t think so either,’ Catherine agreed. ‘Luckily, she’s about the
