Magical Weddings (129 page)

Elsa Winckler

Copyright © 2015 by:

Elsa Winckler

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any
means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

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I would like to thank Prof Edwin Hees for reading the first draft of this story. And a big thank you to Brooke Moody, of Brooke Review Editing, the final editor for doing a thorough and detailed job.

I’d also like to thank our son, Heinz Winckler for taking the lovely photograph that was used in the cover and for Nic Jooste from Cape Town for adding the magic to it.

And as always, I have to thank my husband, Theo for reading my words each night and for encouraging me all the way—you’ve taught me that magic can be real.

And finally, my thanks to the girl who is the inspiration for this story–Girl with cake
http://www.girlwithcake.co.za
.

Twenty-two years ago.

“Doesn’t Gaby look beautiful?” sighed Susan. “When I get married, I also want a beach wedding.”

“Me, too,” said Robin. “And I also want a dress with layers and layers of net, just like Gaby’s, so that I can do this,” she added, jumping up and twirling around.

“Before you get a dress, you will have to find a bridegroom,” Lori said gloomily. “And my mum says it’s very difficult to find a good man.”

Irritated, Carley frowned. “We’re eight, we don’t want husbands.”

“My mum says Gaby picked a stinking rich one,” Erin said.

They giggled and Carley looked at her cousins. They were all dressed in frilly pink dresses and looked very much like five extra wedding cakes. But she was the owner of a new boogie board, her mother’s bribe to get her to wear this dress, so she was happy.

“But where will we find husbands one day?” Robin asked after a little while.

“We must ask Aunt Rae,” Lori says. “My mum says she’s clair…clair…something. It means she knows things,” Lori added.

“What do you want to ask me?” a voice behind them asked and they all turned around.

“Aunt Rae!” they called out and she leaned forward and gave them a group hug the way she always did.

“Are you clair…clair …?” Lori asked and Aunt Rae laughed.

“Clairvoyant?”

Lori nodded.

“Well,” she said and pulled a chair closer so that she was sitting in front of them. “It depends on what you want to know.”

“We want to know where we will find husbands,” Robin said.

Aunt Rae gasped. “I’ll tell you something I do know,” she said and they all leaned forward. “You won’t have to find them, they’ll find you.”

They stared solemnly at Aunt Rae.

“But how will we know they’re the right ones?” asked Susan.

“Ah, sweetheart, trust me, you’ll know.” Aunt Rae smiled.

“Aunt Rae, do you know what mine will look like?” Lori asked.

“And mine?” Robin asked and jumped up.

“And mine? Susan asked.

“And mine,” Erin breathed excitedly.

Aunt Rae looked at Carley. “Don’t you want to know what your husband will look like one day?” she asked.

“I don’t like boys very much,” Carley sighed. “I don’t think I will want to get married.”

Aunt Rae touched Carley’s hair. “One day you will, dear Carley, one day you will.”

She motioned for them to move closer to her. She took their hands into hers and closed her eyes. The five of them looked at each other and giggled.

Aunt Rae sat quietly for what felt like long minutes before she began to talk. “Well, what I see is that Susan’s husband will have hair the colour of the night, Lori’s husband will be tall, very tall, Robin’s husband …” she murmured, her eyes still closed, “... will have big, big hands. Erin’s husband will be a good sportsman ...” They giggled but Aunt Rae kept her eyes closed. “… and Carley,” she said, “your husband will…” She frowned but kept her eyes closed. “… have eyes the colour of…no wait, one eye the colour of the sky and one eye the colour of chocolate.” Her eyes flew open and she stared at Carley for a few minutes. She reached out and touched Carley’s hand. “One eye will be able to see your soul and you, my dear, will want someone like that.”

Aunt Rae got up and bent down to them again. “Best to keep this to ourselves.” And before they could blink, she’d disappeared into the crowd.

The four of them looked at one another and burst into giggles.

“I don’t think Aunt Rae knows everything,” Erin said.

Carley rolled her eyes. One blue and one brown eye—she was probably only teasing them.

Sighing with relief, Carley manoeuvred her car into the only parking spot left in the busy street. She was going to be so, so late! Yesterday she had promised the two car attendants who looked after cars on the parking lot across the street that the next cake she was giving away would be for them.

They’d been overjoyed, so even when she realised she was cutting things very fine, she finished the cake, dressed herself in record speed so that she’d have time to drop it off.

But maybe delivering the weekly cake to those less fortunate on the same day that she was one of the bridesmaids at her cousin’s wedding wasn’t such a good idea. The traffic had been so bad and if she didn’t get the cake to these guys within the next five minutes, she might just be later than the bride.

Guarding cars in a parking bay was probably very much a South African phenomenon, but at least these guys went home at the end of the day with a little money in their pockets and car owners were sure their cars wouldn’t be stolen or broken into.

It’s summer and the days are hot, even here in Camp’s Bay, one of the coastal suburbs of Cape Town. Regardless of the weather, the two car attendants were always there.

The other promise she’d made to the two was that they would feature on her blog over the weekend. This idea had pleased them no end. She’d started her blog ‘Everyone deserves cake’ a year ago after becoming aware of the increasing number of street kids and lost souls in and around the city of Cape Town who seldom had anything to eat, let alone something like cake. Her fervent wish was that more people would notice what was going on around them and try to help in whatever small way they could.

So, whenever she had time away from her job as sous chef at a restaurant in Camp’s Bay, she baked a cake and delivered it to anyone who looked like they needed a little something sweet in their lives.

She loved baking and had long ago realised that was her passion. But somehow the vague idea of starting her own little deli was very much still just that—a vague idea. She couldn’t just give up a steady job—she was way too rational for that. Maybe someday.

Carley looked up and down the street. There wasn’t a pedestrian crossing in sight and she didn’t have time to drive around looking for one. She would have to get to the other side of the road from right here.

If she’d had more time, she would have gone around the block and stopped near the parking lot, but parking on this side of the street made more sense today, because from here it was easy to slip onto the main road to Clifton beach, where the wedding ceremony was going to be held.

At least there was a lull in the traffic at the moment. Only one car was approaching from her right-hand side, but it seemed quite far away. If she hurried, she would be across the street long before it reached her.

The two car attendants had seen her and were waving enthusiastically. Smiling, she returned the wave and clutching the cake in both hands, hurried across the street as quickly as her high heels would allow.

She glanced down at her shoes. Finding a pair of open shoes to go with this dress had been such a hassle. For the ceremony on the beach she would obviously go bare foot, but she needed the shoes for the reception, for the dancing.

With her busy work schedule time was always a problem, so when she’d glimpsed this pair in a window, she’d gone in and bought them. The price had knocked her last breath out of her, but she simply couldn’t resist.

It was a pair of shoes straight out of a fairy tale—see-through with tiny, pinkish stones placed here and there. And, as an added bonus, the shoes were actually quite comfortable. Maybe not quite what one should be wearing when dashing across a street, but beautiful nevertheless.

Before she had even reached the middle of the road, the screeching of rubber on tar awfully close to her nearly gave her a heart attack. She spun towards the noise, just in time to see a black sports car coming to a stop mere centimetres from her. In one whoosh her breath left her body and her hand landed on the bonnet of the car in an attempt to keep her balance.

A furious man jumped out.

“Are you completely bloody insane?” he yelled. “What the hell are you trying to do? Get yourself killed in those ridiculous shoes? Don’t you look up and down the road before you cross it?”

By the time he delivered his last word, he was standing toe to toe with her. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she could barely comprehend what he was saying. Without conscious thought, her eyes took in everything about him. Tall, neatly cut black hair, a trim, muscled body. Dark glasses made it impossible to see the colour of his eyes, though. Wow. The fuming man in front of her was breathtakingly, drop-dead gorgeous.

The roaring in her ears finally subsided and she realised his car was probably the one she’d noticed down the road just before crossing. At that point it had still been very far away. Which could only mean one thing: he’d been speeding.

Miffed with herself for drooling over a complete stranger and with the man for scaring the living daylights out of her, then shouting at her and calling her shoes ridiculous while he was the one at fault, she lifted her chin.

“I did look and your car was way down there,” she said, pointing down the road. “Yell at yourself, you’re the one who was driving way too fast. And my shoes are not ridiculous,” she added. Then, ignoring him, she again put both hands around the cake plate and proceeded to cross the street.

One of the car attendants had jumped over the fence of the parking lot and was hurrying towards her. They would have seen the whole incident.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes, don’t worry, I’m fine.” She tried a smile but was sure it was a bit wobbly. Her hands were shaking slightly, but there wasn’t time to discuss what had nearly happened. “Here’s your cake. Enjoy!” she said and put the cake into his outstretched hands.

His eyes landed on the cake and a brilliant smile lit up his face. “Thank you, thank you,” he murmured and with a delighted look on his face, he rushed back to his friend.

Carley stared after them for a second. They were talking excitedly, lifting the lid and smelling the cake. This was the part she loved to see—the joy, the wonder, the relief of knowing that, at least for now, they had something to eat. It made all the rush and hard work worth her while.

A little misty-eyed, she turned and made sure to glance up and down the street before she started walking. She’d had enough excitement for one day.

This time she made it back to her car without incident. But as she put her hand on the door, the man who had nearly run her down materialised in front of her.

“I haven’t finished talking to you,” he said, but she refused to look at him and looked down at the door instead.

At least he wasn’t shouting any longer. She noticed that he’d parked in the parking bay next to her car.

“Well, I’ve finished listening to you,” she said firmly and opened the door.

He stepped forward, putting his hand on her car door so that she was effectively trapped between his big body and her car. Warily, she looked up.

“You can’t cross a busy street like this anywhere you fancy. There are pedestrian crossings, robots to help you get across—I could have killed you!” By the time he uttered his last word, his voice had risen several octaves again.

But Carley had stopped listening. He wasn’t wearing his dark glasses now. Fascinated, she stared into his eyes. What was it about them? And then it dawned on her.

“Heterochromia,” she murmured without taking her eyes off his. “You have one brown and one blue eye.” Her hand reached up and she touched his chin so that she could turn his face a little to the left in order to have a closer look. “I’ve heard about it, but have never actually seen someone with eyes like this.”

****

The moment her fingers touched his face, Brett stopped breathing. She barely touched him; it was more of a whisper of air on his chin, but something inside him moved.

Even while he’d been shouting at her just now, a part of him had taken in everything about her—her sexy body, her golden tresses hanging down her back, her moss-green eyes. She was incredibly beautiful.

The filmy pink dress she was wearing was wrapped tightly around her body in intricate folds and fell down to just above her knees. It left her shoulders bare and he’d been doing his best not to stare at the hint of cleavage that was on display. Red hot desire punched him in the gut, leaving him breathless.

Stunned, he grabbed her hand. He didn’t think about what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just reacted on instinct. And once her hand was in his, he couldn’t let go. So he pulled her closer, his eyes on her long, slender fingers. Her nails were painted in a soft pink colour. Fascinated with this discovery and with the texture of her skin, he lifted her hand.

And that’s when he smelled it. Chocolate. Chocolate cake. That was what she’d been taking across the street just now. And there was some chocolate left on her middle finger. Well, that clinched it—he loved women and he loved chocolate. What was a mere man to do but have a taste of both?