“But I’m very open to suggestions.”
Dexter said, “I’m not the one getting married here, but I’ve always thought something a little less formal would be nice. A garden wedding, let’s say.”
Her pen slipped, drawing a squiggly line right through the word bride. She realized her hands were sweating, that’s why her pen had slipped.
She and Dex had married among a garden of roses and irises, her favorite flower of all, and lilies, so the perfumes intermingled. Even as he spoke the words she was transported back to that magical day, the day she’d thought would begin her own personal happily-ever-after.
Fool.
“I’m sure Ms. Vanderhooven has the best ideas for her own wedding.”
“Not really,” the bride said. “I’m pretty open to ideas. And Andrew always listens to Dexter, so we thought if he came instead it would be almost as good.”
“Dexter, that’s an unusual name.” Karen frowned. “Makes me think of the serial killer on TV.”
Dexter shot her an “oh, come on,” look and explained that Dexter was his mother’s maiden name, as though she didn’t know it perfectly well. Then he rose. “I think better on my feet. You see, Ms. Petersham, mind if I call you Karen? It was Karen, wasn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, naturally, and continued, “You see, Karen, most people want to feel that a marriage is forever, so you want something that’s going to mean something in fifty years. You want a wedding you’ll look back on with fond memories.”
She felt her color heighten as she locked gazes with him. “Do you?”
KAREN HAD A SPLITTING HEADACHE the rest of the day. She knew it wasn’t only the stress of seeing Dex again, but the added insult to her body of skipping lunch. Of course she knew that depriving herself of a few calories wouldn’t suddenly make her magically thin or grow her half a foot so she could look Ms. Sophie Vanderhooven in the eye—and spit in Dexter’s. She’d skipped lunch anyway, which she knew wasn’t good for her, all the diet books said so, but sometimes she refused to believe their logic.
And ended up with a headache as well as a cranky, empty stomach.
With no further appointments, she settled in to work on her monthly accounts, not that there was much point in it since she couldn’t concentrate. All she could do was relive that moment when Dexter had walked back into her life. Worse, it was clear that he, Sophie and the missing groom had all agreed to appoint him stand-in groom and assistant wedding planner, which had her hauling the large bottle of painkillers out of her emergency drawer and swallowing two of them with the zero calorie water on her desk.
Dee popped her head in the door at a few minutes before five and said, “Is it okay if I head out now?” She grinned. “I’ve got to get home and change for my date tonight.”
Sure, Dee was thin, gorgeous, young and had that British accent going for her, but she seemed to get more than her fair share of dates.
“Where do you meet all these men?”
“Online,” the younger woman said, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “It’s mad fun, you should try it.”
“Online dating? It seems so desperate.”
“It’s not. I do it all the time.” Dee didn’t bother saying she wasn’t desperate. All you had to do was look at her. “Our trouble is that we work in an industry that caters to women, and the only men who come round here are already spoken for. Honestly, you should at least give it a go.”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell you what, I’ll set you up a profile tomorrow and show you how to get on. It’s really simple and gives you a chance to screen someone first before you waste your time meeting them.”
“I guess I should be open-minded,” Karen said. Normally she’d have scoffed, but seeing Dexter today was making her feel more than usually single. And vaguely desperate.
“You’ll have fun, I promise.”
A slight woman with multicolored hair that looked as though Edward Scissorhands was her hairdresser drifted in behind Dee. She blinked big eyes and glanced around as though wondering where she was and what she was doing here.
“Hi, Laurel,” Dee said.
“Hello.”
“What do you think about Plenty of Phillys?”
“The online dating site?”
“That’s right.”
Laurel pulled her sketchbook out of her peace-sign-emblazoned bag. “I don’t think about it. Why?”
“Honestly, Laurel, how do you manage in the real world? I don’t mean do you contemplate the site the way you’d meditate on world peace or whatever you do when you sit around cross-legged and chant aum, I mean what do you think about Karen doing the online dating thing?”
“Oh.” The cake decorator turned her huge eyes to Karen. “Do you want to meet men on the Internet?”
“Of course she does, she’s desperate,” Dee announced. “And you should try it, too.” She sent them both a megawatt smile. “Right, then, see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Have fun tonight.”
Once Dee had gone, Karen turned to Laurel. “I’m not definitely going to do it, I’m only thinking about it.”
“I think you should do whatever makes you happy.”
And the amazing thing about Laurel was that when she said wacky things like that, she actually meant them. “I know you do. So, what have you got for me?”
Laurel was in the habit of bringing in her cake designs for Karen to approve. Not that she needed to, everything she baked was incredible, but Karen suspected she liked the reassurance of her approval.
But she really wished the woman didn’t bring sketches of the most delectable treats that looked so good even in the sketchbook that Karen’s mouth started to water. Especially not at the end of the day when her willpower was at its lowest ebb.
Once she’d approved half a dozen designs and they’d gone over timing and delivery of the cakes for this weekend, Laurel drifted out of the office and Karen got back to her accounts.
After giving in to her hunger and nuking a Lean Cuisine meal, she continued wrestling with her books for another couple of hours. When the muted chime that announced an after-hours caller rang, she wasn’t surprised. She supposed on some level she’d expected him.
Ignore the bell or go answer him?
It really wasn’t an option. With a sigh, she rose and stepped back into her heels and took her time going to the front door.
In the dim light he looked almost a stranger to her, so tall and elegant and, she reminded herself sternly, no longer hers.
“You look good, Kiki.”
In spite of herself
