‘Not looking forward to it?’ he asked, already pretty sure of the answer.
‘Henry’s a family friend, and his mother made his fiancée make me one of her bridesmaids too, which she probably hates me for.’ Violet sighed. ‘I want to go for him, and Mum and Dad will be there, probably Daisy and Seb too... It’s just...’
‘You don’t want to face all the people. And the cameras.’
‘Yeah.’
Tom considered. There was a chance Violet might never forgive him for what he was about to do. On the other hand, if he could convince her of the truth—that it was the act of a friend, that he honestly had no ulterior motive for this...maybe it could bring them closer.
Maybe, one day, Violet would learn to trust him.
He lifted the phone to his ear again.
‘Sherry, if it’s okay with you and Rick, I’m going to accompany Violet. As her date, not a reporter on this occasion!’
‘Well,’ Sherry said, sounding taken aback, ‘that sounds lovely. I’m sure we’ll all have a delightful day.’
‘Me too.’ Although, judging by the shocked glare on Violet’s face, only if he lived that long. ‘See you later, Sherry.’
Silence reined in the motionless car for a long, long moment.
Then Violet said, ‘You are never answering my phone again.’
* * *
What was he thinking? Well, actually, Violet was pretty sure she knew exactly what he was thinking—what a perfect way to further his career by sneaking into a society wedding under the guise of being her date. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t got used to being used for her name and family over the years, but this one really did take the biscuit.
‘I meant what I said,’ Tom told her, his expression deceptively earnest. ‘I’m not going to the wedding as a journalist.’
‘No, you said you were going as my date. Aren’t you supposed to ask a girl before declaring something a date?’ Because if he’d asked she could have said no. And she almost certainly would have. Probably.
‘Well, it was kind of a spur of the moment decision. Much like this road trip.’ He shot her a sideways glance she pretended not to see. ‘Is it such a bad idea?’
‘Yes!’
‘Why?’
‘Because...oh, so many reasons. Because you’re not my boyfriend; you’re the guy who’s here to research and write about me and my family. Because you’re always, always a reporter, no matter how much you pretend you’re taking a day off. Journalists don’t do off-duty.’
‘Okay, answer me this one question honestly.’ Violet stared out of the windscreen at the road as he talked. Because she needed to concentrate on driving, not because she was ignoring him. Really. Even if the car wasn’t moving. ‘Will the wedding be more or less fun with me there to keep you company?’
Damn him. Violet bit the inside of her cheek to keep from answering. Even with Daisy and her parents there, it would be better with Tom. Because Daisy and Seb would be all loved-up again, and so would Mum and Dad probably, and everyone would start telling stories about their own weddings or engagements or romantic moments...and, for once, she wouldn’t have to sit there as sorry single Violet whose heart had been betrayed and broken by the only man she’d ever loved.
‘Violet? More or less fun?’ Tom pressed.
‘More.’ The word came out begrudgingly.
‘Great! Then it’s all settled.’ Tom beamed at her and Violet almost missed her chance to move forward two metres.
Settled wasn’t the word she’d use at all. In fact, things felt more unsettled than ever to Violet.
‘So, how many times will you have been a bridesmaid this year, after this one?’ Tom asked.
Violet tried to pretend her cheeks weren’t getting warm. ‘Three, including Mum and Dad’s renewal. And you know what they say...’
‘No idea, actually,’ Tom said cheerfully.
‘Three times the bridesmaid, never the bride,’ Violet quoted. ‘Of course, this is actually the sixteenth time I’ve been a bridesmaid, so I think we’re long past worrying about that.’ Not that that would stop everyone there thinking it, or whispering it behind her back, she was sure.
Tom let out a low whistle. ‘Sixteen. That’s, wow. A lot.’
‘Yeah. Most of them were as kids—you know, family friends or people who just wanted cute, famous twin girls to walk down the aisle with them or to make sure Rick and Sherry were photographed at their wedding. You know how it goes.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘I’ve only done it five or six times since I left university. Mostly for friends.’ Why was she still talking about this? He couldn’t possibly care.
‘Still, it’s a good job you look so great in bridesmaid dresses,’ Tom said with a grin.
No pretending she wasn’t blushing this time. But thinking about bridesmaid dresses just made her remember the one she was wearing when she’d met him, and what had followed next.
Still not her finest moment.
‘Did you check that traffic report?’ she asked, eager for a change of subject.
Tom pulled out his own phone and jabbed at the screen for a while. ‘Okay, it looks like this carries on for the next couple of junctions. Then we should be clear.’
Violet sighed. ‘So, after the gig it is. There’s no way we’ll make it before at this rate.’ They’d been cutting it close as it was. And by the time the gig was over she was going to be exhausted, even if things went well.
‘Want me to see if I can find us rooms at a hotel somewhere near the arena?’ Tom asked, as if he’d read her mind. It was kind of disconcerting.
She bit her lip. Did she? It would mean a whole night away with Tom Buckley, plus the drive home tomorrow. He was bound to use that to his advantage, even if she was slightly reassured by his use of the plural ‘rooms’. But was that more dangerous than driving home exhausted? No. Of course it wasn’t.
She sighed. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
They inched forward another few metres as Tom frowned at his phone screen. Eventually he gave a little cheer of triumph, and tucked his phone away again.
‘Got something?’
‘Nothing near the arena,’ Tom said, ‘but I got us two rooms right on the front, in some hotel with an old-fashioned name. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the ocean in Britain.’
‘It’s the sea here,’ Violet corrected him. ‘And the British seaside is an institution, I suppose. You should see it.’
A broad smile split Tom’s face. ‘Great! Only thing I can’t figure out is why one of the rooms was half the price of the other.’
Violet could guess. Not all of those old seaside hotels were in the best of repair these days. ‘Well, tell you what, you can take that room and find out. Okay?’
Tom’s smile didn’t even fade an iota. ‘Whatever you say, boss.’
Violet turned her attention back to the traffic ahead of her. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE CONCERT HAD to be well underway by the time Violet swung her little car into the car park nearest to the arena. Tom had exercised discretion as the better part of valour and avoided asking too many questions for the latter part of the journey, as Violet’s expression grew stony and set as the traffic worsened.
He almost pitied Jake Collins, the mood she was in. But only almost.
‘You can definitely get us in there, yes?’ Violet asked, switching off the engine and lights. At high summer, the sun was still going down but it still felt late.
‘It’s done.’ Tom stretched his legs out of the door, feeling his back pop as he arched it. ‘There should be passes waiting for us at the door.’ He didn’t mention exactly how much favour currency he’d exchanged for that privilege.
Violet stalked off in what he presumed was the direction of the arena and he hurried to catch her up, pausing only briefly to admire the look of her determined walk and her behind in tight blue jeans.
As he’d promised, they were wave