Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3)

Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3) Page 62

The door is flung open and out stalks Alicia, her stilettos echoing like gunfire on the wooden floor. When she sees me, she stops dead and I look at her, my heart thumping hard.

“Hi, Alicia,” I say, forcing myself to sound relaxed. “Sorry to hear about your cake. That was delicious, by the way, Antoine.”

“What?” says Alicia blankly. Her eyes flash to my engagement ring, to my face, back to my ring, to my shoes, to my bag — taking in my skirt on the way — and finally back to my ring. It’s like the Manhattan Onceover in a hall of mirrors.

“You’re getting married?” she says at last. “To Luke?”

“Yes.” I glance nonchalantly at the diamond on my left hand, then smile innocently up at her.

I’m starting to relax now. I’m starting to enjoy this.

(Also, I just gave Alicia the Manhattan Onceover myself. And my ring is a teeny bit bigger than hers. Not that I’m comparing or anything.)

“How come you didn’t say?”

You didn’t ask, I want to reply, but instead I just give a little shrug.

“So where are you getting married?” Alicia’s old supercilious expression is returning and I can see her getting ready to pounce.

“Well… as it happens…” I clear my throat.

OK, this is the moment. This is the time to make the big announcement. To tell Robyn I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to get married in Oxshott.

“Actually…”

I take a deep breath. Come on. It’s like a Band-Aid. The quicker I do it, the quicker it’ll be over. Just say it.

And I really am on the brink of it — when I make the fatal mistake of looking up. Alicia’s looking as patronizing and smug as she ever did. I feel years of feeling stupid and small welling up in me like a volcano — and I just can’t help it, I hear my voice saying, “Actually, we’re getting married at the Plaza.”

Alicia’s face snaps in shock, like an elastic band. “The Plaza? Really?”

“It should be rather lovely,” I add casually. “Such a beautiful venue, the Plaza. Is that where you’re getting married?”

“No,” says Alicia, her chin rather tight. “They couldn’t fit us in at such short notice. When did you book?”

“Oh… a week or two ago,” I say, and give a vague shrug.

Yes! Yes! Her expression!

“It’s going to be wonderful,” puts in Robyn enthusiastically. “I spoke to the designer this morning, by the way. He’s ordered two hundred birch trees, and they’re going to send over some samples of pine needles…”

I can see Alicia’s brain working hard.

“You’re the one having the enchanted forest in the Plaza,” she says at last. “I’ve heard about that. Sheldon Lloyd’s designing it. Is that true?”

“That’s the one,” I say, and smile at Robyn, who beams back as though I’m an old ally.

“Mees Bloomwood.” Antoine appears from nowhere and presses my hand to his lips. “I am now completely at your service. I apologize for the delay. One of these irritating little matters…”

Alicia’s face goes rigid.

“Well,” she says. “I’ll be off then.”

“Au revoir,” says Antoine, without even looking up.

“Bye, Alicia,” I say innocently. “Have a lovely wedding.”

As she stalks out, I subside back in my seat, heart still pumping wth exhilaration. That was one of the best moments of my life. Finally getting the better of Alicia Bitch Longlegs. Finally! I mean, how often has she been horrible to me? Answer: approximately one thousand times. And how often have I had the perfect put-down at my lips? Answer: never.

Until today!

I can see Robyn and Antoine exchanging looks, and I’m dying to ask them what they think of Alicia. But… it wouldn’t be becoming in a bride-to-be.

Plus if they bitch about her, they might bitch about me too.

“Now!” says Robyn. “On to something more pleasant. You’ve seen the details of Becky’s wedding, Antoine.”

“Indeed,” says Antoine, beaming at me. “Eet will be a most beautiful event.”

“I know,” I hear myself saying happily. “I’m so looking forward to it!”

“So… we discuss the cake… I must fetch some pictures for you… meanwhile, can I offer you some more champagne, perhaps?”

“Yes, please,” I say, and hold out my glass. “That would be lovely!”

The champagne fizzes, pale and delicious, into my glass. Then Antoine disappears off again and I take a sip, smiling to hide the fact that inside, I’m feeling a slight unease.