Now! He wanted to be away from the fresh juniper berry scent of the woman opposite. It had his mind turning to black ski runs in St Moritz, with the wind tearing at his hair and the cold making him feel alive. Which was ridiculous. While he might be on leave, this was no holiday. Besides, if there’d been less frivolity in his life recently Carla might never have become embroiled with a man like Thierry.
Carla’s happiness—that was what he had to focus on. ‘Is the lily pond far? Can you show it to me?’
‘You want to see the lily pond now?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about your sister?’
‘She’s on the phone to her intended. She could be hours. I’ll text her so she’ll know where to find us.’
Dutifully he pulled out his phone.
Mia taking me to lily pond. Meet there.
He held it out for her to see and then hit ‘send’.
Without another word Mia led him out into the warm summer sunshine and he filled his lungs with eucalypt-scented air. The small office block sat on the edge of a rectangle of lush lawn that had to be at least two football fields long. Covered picnic tables marched down each of its sides, shaded by a variety of gum trees, plum pines and bottlebrush trees. The red blossoms of the bottlebrushes had attracted a flock of rainbow lorikeets which descended in a noisy colourful rush.
A peacock strutted through the nearest picnic shelter, checking for crumbs and leftovers, while a bush turkey raked through a nearby pile of leaves. All around the air was filled with birdcalls and the scent of warmed native grasses. Groups of people had gathered around the picnic tables and on blankets on the grass. He could hear children’s laughter from the playground he glimpsed through the trees.
‘This place is popular.’
She gestured that they should take a path to the left. ‘It is.’
Her dark brown hair, pulled back into a severe ponytail, gleamed rich and russet in the bright light. She didn’t wear a scrap of make-up. Not that she needed to. She had a perfect peaches and cream complexion that he hadn’t appreciated under the strip lighting of the office.
He pulled his mind back to the matter at hand. ‘Can we book the entire reserve for the wedding?’
‘I’m afraid not. Plum Pines is a public park. What we can do, though, is rope off the area where your event is being held to keep the general public out.’
‘Hmm...’ He’d have to rethink the security firm he’d initially considered hiring. The wedding security would be a bigger job than he’d originally thought.
She glanced up, her gaze sharp. ‘Is that going to be a problem?’
‘Not if I hire a good security firm.’
‘Let me know if you’d like any recommendations.’ She led him across a bridge spanning a large pond. ‘Officially the park is open from seven a.m. to seven p.m.’
He stared out at the expanse of water, noting several black swans sitting on the edge of the far bank. ‘Is this the lily pond?’
‘No, it’s the duck pond.’
He glanced down into the water and blinked when a tortoise poked its small head out of the water. ‘That...’ He halted to point. ‘That was...’
She glanced over the railing. ‘A Common Longneck Tortoise. The pond is full of them.’
Hands on hips, he completed a full circle, taking in the surroundings. Plum Pines was undeniably pretty, and the native forest rising up all around them undeniably grand. He’d visited some of the most exotic places the world had to offer and yet he’d somehow missed experiencing what was in his own backyard.
‘I can’t believe we’re in the middle of the second largest city in New South Wales. It feels as if we’re in the middle of the bush.’
‘Yes, we’re very privileged.’
That was a rote reply if he’d ever heard one—trotted out for the benefit of visitors. What did Mia really think of the place? Did she love it or loathe it? Her lips were pursed into a prim line that had him itching to make her smile again.
‘You’ll need to apply to the council for an event licence that’ll allow the wedding to extend beyond those hours. There shouldn’t be any issue with that, though.’
She moved off again, with her no-nonsense stride, and after another glance at where the tortoise had disappeared he set off after her.
‘Have you had any weddings that haven’t extended beyond seven p.m.?’ All of the weddings he’d ever attended had kicked on into the wee small hours.
‘There’s been a trend for morning weddings with lunchtime receptions. So, yes.’
She was so serious. And literal. He found himself starting to laugh.
She glanced at him, a frown crinkling her forehead. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You’re not so good at small talk, are you?’
Her face fell and she stuttered to a halt. ‘You want small talk?’
That made him laugh again. ‘How do you enforce the seven p.m. closing time?’
‘We close the gates to the car parks. There’s a hefty fine involved to have the gates opened. Our people, along with your security firm, will have a list of your guests’ number plates so they can come and go as they please.’
‘Right.’
‘And, as Plum Pines is in the middle of suburbia, we don’t get much foot traffic or many homeless people looking for a place to put up for the night.’
That was something, he supposed.
She consulted her notepad. ‘Do you know how many guests the bride and groom are planning to invite?’
‘Carla informs me that she wants “a small and intimate affair”.’
That frown crinkled her brow again. ‘Do you happen to know what your sister’s idea of “small” might be?’
‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’ He had no idea if Thierry came from a large family or not. The other man had closed up like a clam when Dylan had asked him about them. ‘I can’t say that I know what she means by “intimate” either.’
Mia nodded. ‘I think we can guess that fairly accurately—it probably includes fairy lights strung all around the marquee and surrounding trees, white linen tablecloths with centrepieces involving ivy and candles, vintage china and a string quartet.’
‘You don’t sound like you approve.’
She swung to face him. ‘Mr Fair— Dylan. It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It’s Plum Pines’ job to help Carla plan the wedding she wants.’
‘But—’ He broke off.
‘What
