Jennifer Rae - Confessions Of A Bad Bridesmaid

From the boot she pulled out all her bags and hauled them into his car, dragging them across his leather seats. He winced, but remained silent and started to drive again. He was determined not to be late. Or any later than he already was, so he suppressed a frustrated sigh.

‘Where is my dress? I can’t find it...’ She seemed to be muttering to herself, so Edward didn’t bother answering.

She zipped open one brightly coloured bag and began searching through seemingly endless articles of clothing. Edward concentrated on the road.

‘This weekend is nothing but a damn nuisance,’ he muttered.

Picking this girl up was a damn nuisance. But it had to be done. As attending this tedious event had to be done. His mother would need him and Will would need him and it would all fall apart if he wasn’t there. Fixing everything. Making sure everything ran smoothly. He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter. If he wasn’t there things would not go well, and he wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

‘Sounds like someone is not in the party mood.’

Party mood? No, he was not in the ‘party mood’. And now that babysitting an over-tanned party girl had been added to his ever-increasing list of things to take care of his mood was becoming increasingly blacker.

‘We are not here to “party” this weekend. It’s a wedding.’

Her head snapped up and he glanced at her again. Those light-coloured eyes had gone wide. Were they blue or grey? He couldn’t quite make them out.

‘I’m not sure what kind of weddings you’ve been to, Little Mr Sunshine, but the weddings I attend are always a great place to party.’

A tendon in his neck throbbed. You’re here to make sure everyone is all right, he reminded himself, gripping the steering wheel with even more force. You just have to get through the weekend. Although he was sure this woman and her ‘party mood’ were going to make it feel like months.

He glanced in the rear-vision mirror just as she held up something sparkling and purple and sure to be vulgar.

‘What is that?’ He couldn’t keep the distaste from his mouth. Why did women feel the need to cover themselves in sparkles? They looked much better in nothing more complicated than a simple dress. Granted, that body of hers wouldn’t look too bad in a tight dress, but sparkles were his pet peeve.

‘Don’t look,’ she said.

This, of course, meant that now all he wanted to do was look. But he kept his eyes on the road. He could control himself even if she was... Good Lord, was that a breast?

TWO

Not even sneaking a peek, thought Olivia as she slipped her tight trousers off and slid her thermal singlet up over her head. With a tug she pulled the dress down over her head. It, too, was tight but with an extra-hard tug it slipped over her.

She dared a glance in the rear-vision mirror, wondering if she’d caught his dark eyes flicking her way. But he was facing the front. Prude. He probably turned the lights out during sex. Which in her experience was almost as bad as a sleazy lout with wandering hands.

She’d known them all. The funny ones—egotistical—the stupid ones—selfish—the pretty ones—unfaithful—and the shy ones—bad in bed. Unfortunately none had lasted longer than three weeks. The brutal truth was that Olivia was convinced she was undateable. But that was all ending this weekend. False eyelashes, a week’s worth of tanning on Bondi and a bag full of sparkly short dresses meant this weekend she was going to make an impression.

Olivia pulled her make-up bag with her into the front seat and Edward made a disapproving harrumph. Like an old woman.

‘Haven’t you got enough of that on already?’ he enquired rudely. She noticed his fists were white on the steering wheel. Angry, impatient and disapproving. Usually she charmed people when she first met them. For the first five minutes. Then, of course, they quickly lost interest. But his disinterest had taken hold a lot more quickly than normal. She wasn’t sure why, but that idea made her stomach knot up tight. How ridiculous. As if a man like him would ever be interested in someone like her anyway.

‘It’s these finishing touches that take a girl from drab to dazzling. You’ll see.’

She felt his eyes on her and ignored them. He was probably thinking that no amount of make-up could do that, and he’d be right. The truth was she was the younger, less attractive sister and the least pretty of all her friends. She’d made peace with that fact years ago, but a layer of peroxide through her naturally mousy hair and plenty of make-up made her feel much better—and this weekend she wanted to feel good. But his disapproving glances were having the opposite effect.

‘What’s wrong? Do I have something in my teeth? Or is one of my nipples out?’ She lifted her hands to her dress and shifted the bodice, making sure the girls were where they should be. She might not have the face to compete with her friends, but she was happy with her body. Hours at the gym and pounding the pavement meant she was solid muscle. Her body she could control.

* * *

Edward’s throat went thick. She was using her hands to move her breasts and the mounds of them above the line of the dress rose and fell. It was very distracting. Didn’t she realise he was trying to drive? She swathed more lipstick over her already wet lips and sucked them in, spreading the gloss over them.

Olivia Matthews was the sort of woman he took pains to avoid. Vacuous women whose only purpose in life was to supply a young, attractive female body for B-list actors and middle-aged European billionaires to fondle at parties. All high heels and lip gloss. Those women were not his type. She was definitely not his type. Although they were terribly exciting to look at. She was terribly exciting to look at. And why shouldn’t he look? She was making such a show of it; it would be damned bad manners not to notice.

‘Your nipples are fine, as far as I can see.’

That earned him a wry side-glance. Unexpectedly, the sight of her big eyes—which he could now determine were ice-blue—swivelling his way made his gut clench a little tighter, which irritated him. The weekend was going to be bad enough without this little vixen distracting him. He turned to the road, concentrating on the ice and the precarious turns he knew were coming up.

She went back to the mirror, adding more make-up and swiping at non-existent pieces of fluff on her chin.

‘So, is this a party-party tonight, or just an awkward get-together with unattractive single cousins and judgemental aunts?’

Edward snorted. ‘My family’s reputation obviously precedes them.’

‘Does that mean they’ll all be as charming as you, then?’ She snapped the lid on her lipstick and looked at him.

Edward raised his eyebrows at her sarcastic tone but kept his eyes on the road. The woman seemed to say whatever came into that air-filled head of hers without worrying about consequences. Didn’t she know life was all about consequences?

‘My family will all be there for Will and his fiancée. I apologise if we hadn’t given much thought to your need for a wild weekend of sex, drugs and rock and roll.’ He wondered if he’d offended her. He hoped so—perhaps now she would behave herself.

‘What? No sex or drugs? This really will be a dull weekend.’

Her tone was crisp. Now she was really annoyed. Edward’s mouth twitched. He didn’t want it to. But her refusal to be intimidated amused him for some reason. Who was this girl?

A minute’s frosty silence followed her angry outburst. Edward bit his tongue. Tonight he’d have to keep an eye on his unstable mother as well as shepherding his pernicious sister away from the bride-to-be. That was going to be hard enough. His sister had taken a dislike to Fiona—labelling her coarse and insipid. And Australian. Which was reason enough to bring back transportation, according to his sister.