Kate Hardy - Wish Upon a Wedding

‘That’s quite an ultimatum,’ Sean said, trying to find words that wouldn’t make Claire think he was judging her.

‘It was pretty bad at the time.’ She paused. ‘I talked to your mum about it.’

He was surprised. ‘My mum?’

Claire nodded. ‘She was lovely—she knew I was going off the rails a bit and I’d started drinking to blot out the pain of losing Mum, so she took me under her wing.’

Exactly what Sean would’ve expected from his mother. And now he knew why she’d been so insistent that he should look after Claire, the night of Ashleigh’s eighteenth birthday party. She’d known the full story. And she’d known that she could trust Sean to do the right thing. To look after Claire when she needed it.

Claire smiled grimly. ‘The drinking was also the worst thing I could have done in Dad’s eyes, because his dad used to drink and gamble. I think that was half the reason why I did it, because I wanted to make him as angry as he made me. But your mum sat me down and told me that my mum would hate to see what I was doing to myself, and she made me see that the way I was behaving really wasn’t helping the situation. I told her what Mum said about following my dream, and she asked me what I really wanted to do with my life. I showed her my sketchbooks and she said that my passion for needlework showed, and it’d be a shame to ignore my talents.’ She smiled. ‘And then she talked to Dad. He still didn’t think that designing dresses was a stable career—he wanted me to have what he thought of as a “proper” job.’

‘Does he still think that?’ Sean asked.

‘Oh, yes. And he tells me it, too, every so often,’ Claire said, sounding both hurt and exasperated. ‘When I left the fashion house where I worked after I graduated, he panicked that I wouldn’t be able to make a go of my own business. Especially because there was a recession on. He wanted me to go back to uni instead.’

‘And train to be a doctor?’

‘Because then I’d definitely have a job for life.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But it’s not just about the academic side of things. Sure, I could’ve done the degree and the post-grad training. But my heart wouldn’t have been in it, and that wouldn’t be fair to my patients.’ She sighed. ‘And I had a bit of a cash flow problem last year. I took a hit from a couple of clients whose cheques bounced. I still had to pay my suppliers for the materials and, um...’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I could’ve asked Dad to lend me the money to tide me over, but then he would’ve given me this huge lecture about taking a bigger deposit from my brides and insisting on cash or a direct transfer to my account. Yet again he would’ve made me feel that he didn’t believe in me and I’m not good enough to make it on my own. So I, um, sold my car. It kept me afloat.’

‘And have you changed the way you take money?’

She nodded. ‘I admit, I learned that one the hard way. Nowadays I ask for stage payments. But there’s no real harm done. And Dad doesn’t know about it so I avoided the lecture.’ Again, Sean could see the flash of pain in her eyes. ‘I just wish Dad believed in me a bit more. Gran and Aunty Lou believe in me. So does Ash.’

‘So do I,’ Sean said.

At her look of utter surprise, he said softly, ‘Ashleigh’s wedding dress convinced me. I admit, I had my doubts about you. Especially when you lost her dress. But you came up with a workable solution—and, when the original dress turned up, I could see just how talented you are. Mum was right about you, Claire. Yes, you could’ve been a perfectly competent doctor, but you would’ve ignored your talents—and that would’ve been a waste.’

Her eyes sparkled with tears. ‘From you, that’s one hell of a compliment. And not one I ever thought I’d hear. Thank you.’

‘It’s sincerely meant,’ he said. ‘You did the right thing, following your dreams.’

‘I know I did. And I’m happy doing what I do. I’m never going to be rich, but I make enough for what I need—and that’s important.’ She paused. ‘But what about you, Sean? What about your dreams?’

‘I’m living them,’ he said automatically.

‘But supposing Farrell’s didn’t exist,’ she persisted. ‘What would you do then?’

‘Start up another Farrell’s, I guess,’ he said.

‘So toffee really is your dream?’ She didn’t sound as if she believed him.

‘Of course toffee’s my dream. What’s wrong with that?’ he asked.

‘You’re the fourth generation to run the business, Sean,’ she said softly. ‘You have a huge sense of family and heritage and integrity and duty. Even if you didn’t really want to do it, you wouldn’t walk away from your family business. Ever.’

It shocked him that she could read him so accurately. Nobody else ever had. She wasn’t judging him; she was just stating facts. ‘I like my job,’ he protested. He did .

‘I’m not saying you don’t,’ she said softly. ‘I’m just asking you, what’s your dream?’

‘I’m living it,’ he said again. Though now she’d made him question that.

It was true that he would never have walked away from the business, even if his parents hadn’t been killed. He’d always wanted to be part of Farrell’s. It was his heritage.

But, if he was really honest about it, he’d felt such pressure to keep the business going the same way that his father had always run things. After his parents had died in the crash, he’d needed to keep things stable for everyone who worked in the business, and keeping to the way things had always been done seemed the best way to keep everything on a stable footing.

He’d been so busy keeping the business going. And then, once he’d proved to his staff and his competitors that he was more than capable of running the business well, he’d been so busy making sure that things stayed that way that he just simply hadn’t had the time to think about what he wanted.

Just before his parents’ accident, he’d been working on some new product ideas. Something that would’ve been his contribution to the way the family business developed. He’d loved doing the research and development work. But he’d had to shelve it all after the accident, and he’d never had time to go back to his ideas.

Though it was pointless dwelling on might-have-beens. Things were as they were. And the sudden feeling of uncertainty made him antsy.

Sean had intended to ask Claire to stay, that night; but right at that moment he needed some distance between them, to get his equilibrium back. ‘I’d better check to see if your clothes are dry.’

They were. So it was easy to suggest making a cold drink while she got dressed. Easier still to hint that it was time for her to go home—particularly as Claire took the hint. He let her walk out of the door without kissing her goodbye.

And he spent the rest of the evening wide awake, miserable and regretting it. She’d pushed him and he’d done what he always did and closed off, not wanting her to get too close.

But her words went round and round in his head. What’s your dream?

The problem was, you couldn’t always follow your dreams. Not if you had responsibilities and other people depended on you.

Everybody has a dream, Sean.

What did he really want?

He sat at his desk, staring out of the window at a garden it was too dark to see. Then he gritted his teeth, turned back to his computer and opened a file.

Dreams were a luxury. And he had a business to run—one that had just managed to survive a takeover bid. Dreams would have to wait.

CHAPTER TEN

SEAN SPENT THE next day totally unable to concentrate.

Which was ridiculous because he never, but never, let any of his girlfriends distract him from work.