business for over three years.
Skye sighed. ‘Just taking on Mum’s wedding client on top of—’
‘I’ve got everything else under control, Skye. I have two weddings of my own on the go, as you know, but Maggie and I will take care of all the bookings and follow-ups with everyone but the clients themselves.’
Skye sagged back in her chair. ‘But you don’t know—’
‘You’ve documented your progress well.’
‘I have?’ She sat a little taller. Praise from her older sister was rare, but then, having a man like Patrick in her life made a big difference. It was amazing what a little love could do.
‘So don’t panic. I spoke to Mum just an hour ago. She has every confidence that the Harrison-Brown wedding will go off without a hitch if she’s not back on board before the fateful day,’ Tara stated dryly. ‘Oh, and she sounds terrible so please don’t hassle her unless absolutely necessary.’
‘Sure.’ Skye stiffened. There was no way on earth she could talk to her mother about this. She was worse than Tara when it came to being bull-headed. ‘I don’t foresee any problems.’
‘Good.’
Skye rang off. No problems. Except that the man she’d walked out on four years earlier was back in her life!
Breathe. Just breathe. There was no reason to panic. She would hardly see the guy, probably didn’t need to see him at all. She nibbled her lower lip. She could probably avoid the man completely until the rehearsal and the wedding.
She strode to the window and stared out at the busy street. Was one of the cars outside his? Had he gone yet? Had he had his fitting done, taken off that amazing tux, and gone back to his life? She crossed her fingers and leant her head against the cool glass.
Did he have someone in his life? She bit her bottom lip, a chill sweeping through her.
She stared out at the sky. Nick probably didn’t even think twice about running into her. Odds were it had to happen eventually. She just wished it was still years down the track, when she was older, more mature, stronger and far more capable to cope with surviving an ex-boyfriend who was a lawyer.
Skye sighed. Nick had probably already dismissed her from his mind as an old girlfriend, over and done, and that was all she was. He had enough of those running around the city, from what the papers reported.
She licked her dry lips. It was probably a daily occurrence for him. There was no reason to think there was anything more to it.
She heard the knock and the door open. ‘Just put the cup on my desk, Maggie.’ She needed the cuppa desperately, but she wasn’t about to show Maggie that, or the fact that she was bothered.
‘I would,’ said a distinctively male voice. ‘But I don’t have the cup and I’m not Maggie.’
Skye swung to face him, her insides coiled tight. Nick!
Nick Coburn wore a dark suit that silhouetted his shoulders as nicely as the tuxedo had. His white shirt and deep green tie were neat, pressed and tidy. Did he have someone ironing his shirts for him? She stiffened. Or was he just sending them out? ‘What are you doing here?’
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I told you, I’m the best man.’
She took a deep breath. Where was her professionalism? Where was her detachment, and all that cool, calm sense that she’d employed in her life so well over the last few years?
‘What can I help you with?’ she asked as calmly as she could, avoiding looking at the man directly, trying to slow the thunderous pounding of her heart and the flood of heat to her face.
‘I’d like to discuss my speech at the reception. I need some advice.’ He strode across her small office and dropped into the white fabric sofa in the corner as though he was perfectly at ease.
She lifted her chin. ‘Oh, of course.’ Professional she could handle. She just couldn’t afford to go anywhere near personal, or go into details of what exactly had happened four years ago.
‘Shoot.’
He scrutinized her, his gaze intense, as though he was looking into her very soul…
A shiver raced down Skye’s back, sending ripples of awareness across her skin and into her body. She crossed her arms over her chest and concentrated on breathing and not on the barrage of questions tossing around in her head.
Nick arranged several of the red heart-shaped cushions around him and then gazed directly at her. ‘I’m not sure whether I should go with a joke to start my speech with, or not?’
The tension in her eased a little. Work mode, she could do. ‘There is a popular misconception that the best man has to be witty, funny and entertaining.’ Skye strode behind her wide white marble-topped desk, sitting down in her red chair, pretending this was just any other man in her office. ‘Be funny if funny works for you. But it’s more important to be genuine.’
‘So your advice is—?’
She arranged some papers in front of her, concentrating on what she usually said to the best man and not on the rush of blood in her ears. ‘Keep it simple, genuine and brief.’
‘Okay.’ Nick clapped his hands together and rubbed the palms against each other, not taking his eyes off her. ‘Understood.’
Skye stood up, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. ‘Is that all?’
Nick didn’t move. He looked at her, the intensity in his deep blue eyes disconcerting. ‘Don’t you want to hear it?’
‘What?’ She bit her bottom lip. Why he’d come? Why he’d shown up in her life now after all these years or what he’d heard somewhere, what he suspected? Her heart pounded against her ribs. Or what he wanted now?
‘My speech.’ He leant his elbows on his knees, his blue eyes gleaming. ‘Do you want to hear it?’
Her knees gave out beneath her and she sagged back into her chair. ‘Sure.’ She waved him on. ‘Sure, go ahead. I’m all ears.’
He rubbed his hands together. ‘Terrific, but it’s not quite ready at the moment so I’ll be back when the first draft is done.’
‘Great.’ She sighed. She should have seen that one coming. ‘Not a problem.’
He leant forward, his eyes probing hers. ‘Are you sure? You seem a bit tense.’
Skye lifted her chin. ‘I assure you, Mr Coburn, that no matter what went on with us in the past I am a professional. I’ll do my job where the Harrison-Brown wedding is concerned. No problem at all.’
He shot her a curt nod. ‘You don’t have a problem with me being the best man?’
‘Of course not.’ She was obviously transparent. She pulled back her shoulders and met his deep blue eyes. ‘It was four long years ago, Mr Coburn. It has no relevance here today.’
A muscle quivered
