Business Arrangement

Belinda Wright

Description

Patricia doesn't want to go the wedding alone, especially since she seems to be the only single person there. Escaping to the chateau gardens for some fresh air and solitude, she is stunned by the sight of a handsome, mysterious man gazing out at the view. This is almost too perfect. Except for the fact that once the conversation starts, Patricia realises that her mysterious stranger is most definitely not perfect. Put off by his rude and miserable demeanour, Patricia makes a quick exit.Later, Patricia agrees to a blind date as a favour to a friend. What does she have to lose? Maybe a night out, good food and good company could be just the thing she needs to take her mind off her non-existent love life. Until the businessman turns out to be only too familiar

Sujets

• Contemporary romance

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 27 février 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800469242
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2021 Belinda Wright

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 9781800469242

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A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd


Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two


Chapter One
Music echoed from somewhere in the church and silence fell over the congregation. Heads turned in an effort to catch a glimpse of the approaching bride. I peered behind me, but my view was obstructed by a lady with a big hat. I shuffled about, standing on tiptoes, moving to the side to try to see past her, then gave up. Chantelle would walk past in a moment anyway as she made her way up the aisle.
My eyes landed on Granger, waiting at the altar. His broad shoulders were clad in a grey suit that tapered at the waist, his dark hair was perfectly styled. I watched as he turned and spotted his bride, his eyes appearing to brighten as he saw her. He looked at her as if he was the luckiest man in the world. That look sent the butterflies, already busy in my stomach, into a frenzy. This really was a dream wedding.
I’d had a crush on Granger Carmont for the longest time, but it wasn’t me he had noticed in the office – it was Chantelle. Surprising, really. I mean, what did she have that I didn’t? Excluding the long silky hair, the wide almond eyes, the flawless olive skin and that cute French accent, of course. But red hair and pasty skin were just as attractive, weren’t they?
Sighs of admiration were coming from the rows around me as Chantelle drew closer. I took out my phone and moved to the edge of the pew to capture the moment when she passed. I caught a glimpse of her strapless wedding dress shimmering; the fitted bodice looked like it was decorated with hundreds of diamonds. Her dark hair was loose down her back, and her curves were flattered by the tight top and the bell skirt. She was like something out of a fairy tale, in the wedding dress of a princess, and it suited her perfectly. I put down my phone and wiped my eyes. My make-up wouldn’t make it to the dinner at this rate. Granger took Chantelle’s hand and together they turned to the priest.
It had been love at first sight. Unexpected, yes, the CEO falling for an intern, a cliché even, but their business minds, their love of dogs and their genuine good natures had brought them together. I was happy for them, I really was, even if I did wish it was me marrying the eligible bachelor.
I sat down on the hard pew to listen to the ceremony spoken in both English and French. The church was in the village, metres from the grounds of a French chateau where the reception would be held. Sprawling gardens and vine-striped hills surrounded the manicured castle grounds. It was hard to believe that Chantelle grew up in this beautiful region, for it was so different from the busy city and modern apartment where she and Granger lived now.
I forced myself to focus on what the priest was saying but kept drifting off. Watching my friend getting married was making me nervous, as if there was a big clock ticking above my own head and I was nowhere near settling down; I didn’t have a man, and I was still far from fulfilling my dream of becoming a photographer. Even now, my camera was sitting in my room in the chateau and I longed for the familiar feeling of its weight round my neck. They had a professional doing the photos today, they hadn’t asked me. Which was fine; I mean, I wasn’t a professional photographer yet. It was still just a hobby and a dream.
I turned my phone over in my hand and sneaked a look at Instagram. @fredrikfotos was one of my favourite follows, my role model. He took great photos and worked with some of the biggest magazines like Captured and Interiors .
He had posted a picture of a fishing village in Devon. The sea was tropical blue and as still as a millpond. On it floated an empty boat, nets and lobster pots stacked in the bow. The harbour looked deserted and my mind was filled with questions about the village, the boats and the people who owned them. I smiled. He always managed to add mystique to his pictures. It was a skill and I wanted to learn it.
I checked another account – @rosetinted. She was on holiday in Tenerife and had just posted a picture of herself in a bikini, sitting on a giant inflatable flamingo, Martini glass in her hand. The snap already had fifteen thousand likes. I studied the image, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, huge dark sunglasses covering her eyes. I wished I was there, too. I tapped the heart button and wondered if the chateau had a swimming pool, although I hadn’t brought my bikini and I wasn’t sure my milk-white skin would look as good on an inflatable pink flamingo. Not that I had an inflatable flamingo with me either.
I had toyed with the idea of giving my own Insta account a theme, like @rosetinted had. Everything she posted was pink in some way. But I couldn’t decide what my theme would be. I liked too many different colours. I couldn’t seem to stick with any one.
There was a movement beside me. I looked up and realised everyone was standing. I got up quickly, dropping my phone into my bag, and focused on the front of the church again. Chantelle and Granger were exchanging rings. I sighed. This was all so romantic. They turned and looked at each other to speak their vows, their gaze locked on one another with such passion that a tear escaped from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Damn it . I rummaged in my bag for a tissue. Weddings always got to me. The lady in the hat behind me was also sniffling. Granger placed a kiss on Chantelle’s lips and I tried not to imagine that it was me he was kissing.
When the married couple walked back down the aisle, Chantelle smiled happily and waved as she passed me. They looked like movie stars, beautiful, rich and happy. The couple who had everything. I itched to pick up my phone; this picture would get me loads of likes. Especially if I hashtagged it #GrangerCarmont or #GrangerFinance. But that wasn’t allowed. The wedding invitation had specifically asked for no social media posts of the bride and groom. Plus, my work confidentiality agreement didn’t allow us to tag anything with the company name. Granger was funny about that sort of thing; all communication had to go through the PR department. Not that I would hashtag anything with the company’s name, of course.
I filed out of the church with the rest of the guests and the warmth outside hit me. I stopped to take a breath. It was like walking into a sauna. France was in the middle of a heatwave and it was stifling. There was a short walk from the church to the chateau which I negotiated slowly. My high heels weren’t designed for walking – or dancing, for that matter. I trod carefully as I followed the crowd of people all heading for the reception. My wide-brimmed hat gave a small amount of shade on my face, but wearing my sunglasses was making my nose sweat. The grass along the lane was the colour of straw. I wondered if they struggled with forest fires in the area, although there weren’t many trees, just hills striped with dark-green vines. As I neared the chateau the grass became lush and green. I noticed a sprinkler spraying jets of water over a flower bed.
A white marquee had been set up at the side of the chateau. I followed the flow of people through the flappy marquee doors. Inside was deliciously air-conditioned. I sighed, instantly feeling better. I looked round at the huge hall. Dozens of round tables filled the space, a stage was at one side where a jazz band were preparing to play. White lily floral centrepieces decorated each table, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Everything was white and sparkly. Such a set-up must have cost a fortune but, then, Granger was a millionaire, maybe even a billionaire. He could easily afford all this.
The tables were set with polished silver cutlery, stark white napkins, and a tiny package wrapped in gold paper on each plate. I took out my phone and snapped a picture. Then I turned round and took a panorama shot of the marquee. That was allowed; they had only requested no pictures of the bride and groom. It would make a great Insta post. I just wished I could have brought my camera.
The band began to play. Double bass, violins and a Spanish guitar. It was like a dream; this was what I would want f