Magical Weddings (132 page)

So she put on a brave face and and introduced Brett. To say her cousins were stunned was putting it mildly. They were making all kinds of signs with their eyes, obviously trying to get her away from the table so that they could pepper her with questions. But she’d have the rest of her life to think of a way to explain tonight.

****

“Could we sit the next one out?” Carley fanned herself.

“Gladly.” Brett took her hand. “Bring your wine, we’ll go out on to the balcony.”

They’d been on the dance floor for most of the night. A few other men had tried to ask her to dance, but he’d held on tightly and danced away with her every time.

With her hand in his, he led her through the dancing couples to the balcony and fresh air. It was a beautiful night. There were other people out there as well, but they found a table and chair and Carley flopped down with a sigh.

“You’ve literally danced me off my feet,” she said and took a sip of her wine.

Brett pulled his chair closer to hers and looked at her feet.

“What happened to your shoes?” he asked and took her hand again. He couldn’t stop himself—he had to touch her.

Carley sighed. “One must have fallen out of my car, I couldn’t find it anywhere. They cost me about a month’s salary, but I couldn’t resist. Seeing that this is all part of a fairy tale, losing one shoe fits in nicely.”

He stared at her for a moment, wondering what exactly she meant by that remark. But he had a plane to catch soon and he still wanted to find out what made her tick.

“I want to know more about you. Tell me something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I have a very boring life, trust me.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a sous chef in a restaurant in Sea Point.”

“Wow. So you’re beautiful and you can cook.” He grinned. “Not boring at all. Tell me about an ordinary day.”

She blushed but ignored his words and began to describe what she did. He listened, fascinated by what she was saying but also by the way her face lit up when she talked about her job, something she obviously adored doing, the way her hands talked with her, the way her eyes changed colour to reflect every single emotion.

“And what do you do?” she asked.

“I have my own construction company.”

“Must be tough working for yourself?” she asked and leaned forward.

“I studied engineering and worked for a big company for several years, but I like doing my own thing.”

She sighed. “I would like to open my own deli someday.”

“Why someday?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I like the security of working for someone else. I get a salary every month and it’s not that I don’t like what I’m doing …”

“You should love what you’re doing. Life is too short for anything else. Get your deli,” he said.

She stared at him for a few minutes, then lifted her glass. “Okay! To my new deli!” She laughed and took a sip.

“That was a quick decision.”

She lifted her face to the sky. “Tonight anything is possible.

He tightened his hold on her hand and her eyes found his.

“I wish that was true,” he said gruffly and brought her fingers to his mouth. He kissed each finger without taking his eyes off of hers.

“Brett,” she whispered.

“This is crazy,” he said and pulled her closer. “I met you a few hours ago but I want you. Badly. I want to find a room, get you naked and make you mine,” he said softly, but clearly.

Carley’s eyes darkened and she swallowed. “I …” She cast a wild look around.

He barked out a laugh. “I know. It’s ridiculous. Let’s dance,” he said and held out his hand. “That way I can at least have you in my arms.”

She melted against him and he hugged her close. Other couples were already dancing on the balcony, so he didn’t bother taking her back inside. They swayed together while his hands stroked up and down her back.

Around them people were talking and laughing, on the street below a car honked, somewhere a glass fell and broke, but in this small cocoon where she and Bret were huddled close, nothing else could intrude.

Beneath her ear, his heart was hammering at a frenetic pace. His hands skimmed up her sides, his fingers barely touching the sides of her breasts, but her knees buckled.

“Brett,” she pleaded and lifted her head.

Their lips met. For a fraction of a second, they stared at each other in wonder before he pulled her even closer and deepened the kiss.

His lips were warm, wet and demanding. Powerless to do anything else, she gave him all he was asking for in that kiss.

Silk and satin—that was what her skin felt like. And the taste of her, the scent of her—both were slowly driving him out of his mind. His hand skimmed her sides again and this time his thumbs knew where the softness was, where to linger.

“Brett, buddy!” someone called close by. Carley lifted her head, her eyes molten jade. Mesmerised by her swollen lips, he put out a hand to touch them.

“Brett, we have to go!” someone called and he looked towards the voice. It was the groomsman who wanted a lift.

Brett stared down at the woman in his arms, his breath coming out in gasps.

“I don’t want to go, but I have to,” he said.

She nodded. “I know. And this Cinderella has to go back into her kitchen tomorrow.”

“I…this was …” he stammered. “I don’t know …”

She put her fingers on his lips. “I know. I’m not expecting anything. This was just make believe, it wasn’t real …”

And suddenly he was furious—furious that she could think what had happened between them wasn’t real, furious because he had to go back, furious because he’d met someone he wanted to be with, but everyone knew long distance relationships didn’t work. He lived in Johannesburg and she in Cape Town. Last time he checked the two cities were one-thousand-four-hundred kilometres apart.

He pulled her closer, close enough for her to feel exactly what she was doing to him, then he kissed her again. And this time, he wasn’t gentle. He poured his frustration, the depth of his desire, and his bewilderment into it.

“Brett! Come on, we’re going to be late!” the guy called again and Carley pulled back.

“Your aunt told you about my eyes years ago and here I am …”

“But that’s just it, don’t you see? It’s a fantasy; it can’t be the real thing …”

“This is as real as it gets,” he snarled. “Let me know when you figure that out,” he said before he turned around and walked away.

****

He saw it lying on the other side of the road just as he was getting into the car.

“One second,” he said and jogged across the street to pick it up.

Putting it into his jacket pocket, he felt his frustration and anger being replaced with excitement, with anticipation.

So she thought this wasn’t real? Well, he would have to show her how wrong she’d been, wouldn’t he?

****

“Sweetheart, why are you alone?” Aunt Rae asked behind her and Carley quickly swiped a hand across her eyes.

“Aunt Rae,” she said, making sure she smiled before she faced her aunt.

“Where is that handsome young man who didn’t leave your side for one minute?”

“He had a plane to catch,” Carley said.

“Oh, but why didn’t you ask him to stay?” Aunt Rae asked.

“Aunt Rae!” Carley hugged her aunt. “It was a one-night thing; I knew that all along.”

“Are you okay?” her aunt asked.

“I’ll be fine. In any case, the whole thing is surreal. We only met this afternoon. He works and lives in Johannesburg, I work and live in Cape Town. Chances are I’ll never see him again.”

“You saw his eyes?” Aunt Rae asked with a twinkle in hers.

Carley nodded. “One the colour of the sky and one the colour of chocolate. Yeah, I noticed.”

Aunt Rae took her hand. “I wasn’t sure that you would remember what I told you so long ago.”

“I remember,” Carley said. “But it can’t be that he’s the one. What happened here tonight, isn’t real. It was…I don’t know—I can’t even call it wishful thinking. It’s not as if I’d been hoping to meet someone like him. But something happened when we met earlier today, something …” She shook her head. “… extraordinary, magical, whatever you want to call it, but it was a temporary thing, Aunt Rae.”

“That doesn’t mean what you’re feeling isn’t real.”

“The whole thing probably had more to do with the setting, the wedding, the music, and the wine than any real feelings. By tomorrow this Cinderella will be back in her kitchen, all thoughts of strange men gone!”

“What about your shoe?”

Carley inhaled sharply. “How do you know I’ve lost my shoe?”

“Because you danced with your prince.”

“Oh, Aunt Rae, you’re a die-hard romantic, aren’t you?” Carley sighed. “But this time you have it all wrong, I’m afraid.”

Aunt Rae merely smiled. “If you say so.” She turned to leave, but looked back at Carley again. “Do you remember what else I told you way back then?”

Smiling, Carley shook her head. “I know you said something else and I’ve asked the cousins, but none of us can remember the rest of your predictions.”

“What I said was that because of the colour of his eyes, he will be able to see your soul and you, my dear, will want someone like that. And that wasn’t a prediction, Carley dear, that’s a fact.”

Carley stared after her aunt as she went back into the venue. Someone to see her soul, someone who got her—she liked the sound of that.

Somewhere a church bell rang, twelve times. Shaking her head, she grinned and grabbed her bag. She’d already lost her shoe and her prince of the evening. Before her car turned into a pumpkin, she’d better get home.

It was very late when Brett got home but he wasn’t going to sleep, he knew that. He walked over to his laptop. There was so much work to do—one of the reasons why he’d decided to come back tonight and not waste another day in Cape Town. Maybe he’d get something done.

He opened his laptop. Carley Peterson. He hadn’t even known her surname, so had to ask the other groomsman. But he hadn’t been able to think of anything else for the past four hours.

She fascinated him and he wanted her with an urgency that scared the living daylights out of him.

He’d learned quite a bit about her during the evening, but he wanted to know more, he had to know more. There was something extraordinary between them and he didn’t agree with her that what they were feeling wasn’t real. On the contrary.

Before he realised what he was doing, his fingers were typing her name on the search engine. He scrolled down the entries and his finger froze on one particular link—her blog.

He opened it. And couldn’t help but smile. She called it ‘Everyone deserves cake’. So that’s what she’d been doing when his car nearly knocked her over in the street. She’d been delivering a cake to someone. Probably to the two guys he’d noticed waving at her.

Stunned, he sat back in his chair. His own mother did her little bit of charity and his firm donated a large sum to a few charity organisations, but what this woman was doing was so much more than merely giving money. She gave of herself, her time, her skill.

So not only was she beautiful and sexy, she cooked and made time for those less fortunate.

He sat staring at his computer for long minutes, but none of the reasons he’d just listed mattered. What mattered was that he’d fallen for her—hook, line and sinker.

His heart missed a beat and he knew. Crazy and impossible as it sounded, he’d found the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the one he definitely wouldn’t mind waking up to every single day for the rest of his life.

He’d fallen in love in a matter of hours.

Okay, so there were a few minor logistical problems, but surely none that he couldn’t fix? Okay, make that major logistical problems. But fixing things, working out logistics was part of his daily job. All that he had to do was convince her what had happened today was as real as it got. The rest would fall into place.

A far-fetched thought wormed its way into his brain and deep within him something warm took hold. That might just work. He was going to need at least two weeks, but he was desperate enough and would make sure he got what he needed within four days.

He smiled as he looked over at the item he’d picked up in the street; he had an ace up his sleeve.

****

Monday was pure torture. Carley had a hard time concentrating; she managed to mix up orders, got scolded by the chef and felt like a rag at the end of the day. From there, things went downhill all the way to Friday.

At twelve o’clock on Friday during their peak time, the chef took the knife out of her hand and led her to her locker.

“What…what’s wrong?” Carley asked, although she knew.

“Go home,” Chef said. “Please. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but between Friday and Sunday something happened. I don’t want to know what it was and I don’t care. What I do care about is my restaurant. So either you fix the problem and come back as the usual sharp Carley that we know and need, or I will have to get a new sous chef.”

And with that he turned away and was barking orders before Carley could blink. Wearily, she opened her locker and took out her handbag. She had this coming, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

Like a zombie she walked out of the restaurant towards her car. That thoughts of a man could reduce her to this state was humiliating! Not even as a schoolgirl did she behave this way.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Brett and it was driving her crazy. She had been so sure that by Sunday morning all the feelings that he’d unleashed would be gone, that she would be able to confirm everything that had happened on Saturday had been just a fantasy.

After all, she’d been back in the kitchen, her beautiful dress packed away, her one shoe missing and no Prince Charming in front of her door, shoe in hand. The fairy tale had ended, damn it!

But all those feelings, all those sensations were very much still there and had in fact only grown more urgent throughout the week.

And the worst thing was, she hadn’t heard a word from him. If she were honest, she’d thought he’d contact her. After that last toe-curling kiss, he did say what he was feeling was real. But obviously for her one-night-prince at least, the fairy tale had ended.