Rosa Temple - Playing Her Cards Right

Jimmy and Riley had flirted outrageously for ages and neither had made a move.

I could have intervened and helped the courting process along but since having finally convinced Mother and Father that they should remarry I had begun to plan their second wedding. One matchmaking job at a time was all I could handle. Besides which I was always playing catch-up on my own work: a trip to Paris to organize, a desk piled high with the detritus of my business accounts, not to mention the constant worry that planning to expand the company might be the worst decision I ever made.

‘That’s great, Riley,’ I said reaching across my more messy than usual desk to grab for the caffeine. I flipped off the lid from the Styrofoam cup and took a big gulp. As I thought, it was only just warm. Not only was the coffee bar a good walk away from our Mayfair office, Riley had probably hung around for some necessary flirting with Jimmy and forgotten the time.

The diminutive Riley sat opposite me, messy auburn ponytail flopping to her shoulder as she crossed her legs, wrapping them in that rubbery way of hers, at least twice round. I’d often worry she’d forget to uncross them when she stood up and fall flat on her face. So far it hadn’t happened. She put her coffee on my desk and whipped out a notebook from thin air.

‘Now,’ I said, impressed by Riley’s efficiency before noticing that all she had was the notebook but no pen. ‘I’ve finalized the meetings in Paris. These are times, dates, and addresses. I’ll need you to hire a driver. I think my appointments are fairly dotted around but not too far from the hotel.’ I shoved a piece of paper I’d scribbled onto across to Riley and slumped back in my big purple chair to finish off the macchiato.

‘You told me you were fluent in French?’ I said to Riley.

She nodded.

‘Then booking a driver will be a doddle for you won’t it?’

‘Oh, absolument ,’ she said with a flourish of her hands. ‘And will I need to confirm the flights and hotel?’ she asked.

‘Yes please. I just really need next week to run as smoothly as it can. I’ve got so much to get done. Don’t forget I’m in New York with Mother and my sisters tomorrow.’ I looked at the coral lipstick smudge I’d made on the foam cup and then at Riley. ‘Don’t you think you should be writing this down?’

‘It’s all in here,’ she said tapping the side of her head and nodding. She blinked her enormous blue eyes at me, looking more like a character from a Japanese anime than ever, and smiled. I was worried that by tapping her head on one side she was bound to empty it of all the information she’d just acquired via the ear on the other side.

‘Are you sure?’ I asked and bit my lip in concern. Riley hadn’t glazed over and vanished into one of her dream sequences so maybe she had taken it all in. She looked down at the To Do list I’d scribbled for her. I watched her lips move as she read the list to herself. I noticed her frown and I began to panic.

With a silent sigh I reached across to grab the list back. I then rewrote it in a meticulous step-by-step format.

‘Don’t let me down, Riley,’ I said handing her back the revised instructions. ‘I’m leaving next Wednesday. You’ve got a week. Just make sure I’ve got the plane tickets in my hand before I set off for Heathrow. It’s essential you have a word with my driver in Paris. Tell them I’m on a short and precise schedule. I can’t afford to be late. At all.’

‘I won’t let you down.’ Riley sprang up and set to work. She left my office with a determined gait and returned two seconds later to retrieve the list and her coffee cup. ‘Leave it with me,’ she said in a casual sing-song way.

When she closed the door for a second time, I couldn’t help but think that those were the famous last words of someone else – the captain of the Titanic , perhaps?

Chapter 4

The Dress

Wedding dress shopping with Mother had been fraught to say the least. We’d left every appointment I’d made with every reputable wedding dress couturier empty-handed. Mother knew exactly what she wanted one minute and didn’t have a clue the next. She was also terribly fussy. She had wanted all four of her daughters to be bridesmaids. That meant I had five dresses to think about. Well two designs – one for the bride and one for the bridesmaids – but my sisters and I had been squabbling about the style of our bridesmaid dress.

Then I’d had a brainwave. I was convinced I could settle the whole matter by flying out to one of the Vera Wang bridal shops in New York. If Vera (well the assistant in the shop) couldn’t settle this, then no one could. Mother and I had hit Browns Bride in Mayfair where there was a small selection by Vera Wang, and though we came close, Mother still wasn’t satisfied. I figured a larger selection might inspire her and if we went halfway around the world, Mother might feel compelled to say yes to something.

Our day in New York was booked. I’d scheduled an appointment in the Madison Avenue shop. As my older sisters Amber and Indigo both worked for my Mother’s lingerie company as head of marketing and company lawyer, respectively, time off was easily arranged. I’d managed to coax my younger sister, Ebony, away from her buyer position at Harrods with some difficulty. Ebony worked hard and played hard but she very rarely found time to play since her promotion to a senior buyer position. It took a lot of fast talking and lashings of white wine to first, detach her from her mobile phone earpiece and, second, to get Ebony to relax once we’d checked in to our New York hotel.

After two hours into our visit to Vera Wang in Madison Avenue, my sisters and I had tried on several Vera Wang bridal gowns, not one single bridesmaid dress I might add, while Mother sat watching from a corner.

‘Mother, please,’ I said to her in a dress very similar to the one Kate Hudson wore in Bride Wars . ‘You’re not taking this seriously.’

‘And you are?’ She glared at me in the full and fluffy skirt that swept the carpet. ‘Look, Magenta, these dresses are far too youthful for me. Why don’t you girls stop trying on wedding dresses and see if there’s an actual bridesmaid dress you can all agree on? Maybe we can go somewhere else for me. I’m sure I’ll come up with something.’

‘Mother, you’re impossible,’ I said staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. I looked gorgeous. ‘We’ll run out of time at this rate.’

The shopping expedition wasn’t a complete disaster. The four of us settled on a dress we would be happy with as bridesmaids. The slight snag was that they were four different designs.

‘Honestly, girls,’ I said to my sisters, ‘we might as well get them in different colours, too. How about the colour of our names?’ It was intended as sarcasm but Mother adored the idea.

‘Yes.’ She leapt up and looked enthusiastic for the first time since our quest for dresses began. ‘What a great idea.’

‘It’s tacky,’ I said.

‘But delightfully so,’ Mother replied. ‘Please? For me?’

We gave in to Mother’s whim but at least that was one less thing for me to worry about. We ordered our dresses and a big tick was added to my mental Wedding To Do list.

Exhausted by the flight and the morning of trying on dresses, we needed some refreshments.

We found an authentic English teashop and ordered cream scones and strongly brewed tea.

Mother sat in her graceful way, red hair piled into a low bun and her little finger elegantly cocked as she sipped her tea.

‘We’ll have to go back to the idea of a specially designed dress for you, Mother,’ I said, my energy levels well and truly sunk.

‘Yes that’s all well and good,’ she said. ‘But I’ve got so many ideas in my head. I’m not sure I could be much help to a designer. We’ve tried and I’ve only confused them.’