Proposal For The Wedding Planner. Sophie Pembroke

Anyway, you’ll meet her soon... What was I saying?’

      ‘I have no idea.’

      ‘Sorry. I’m babbling.’

      ‘That’s okay.’

      ‘Oh!’ Laurel bounced in the car seat a little as she remembered where she’d been going with the conversation. ‘Anyway. I was just about to say that there’s lots planned for the next few days—with the welcome drinks tonight, the Frost Fair, and then the stag and hen dos tomorrow, local tours for the guests on Friday before the rehearsal dinner...’

      ‘And the actual wedding at some point, I assume?’ Dan added, eyebrows raised.

      ‘Well, of course.’ Laurel felt her skin flush hot for a moment. ‘I was working chronologically. From my Action List.’

      ‘I understand. Sounds like you have plenty to keep you busy this week.’

      Laurel nodded, her head bobbing up and down at speed. ‘Absolutely. But that’s good! I mean, if this wedding goes well... It’s the first one I’ve arranged since I started my own business, you see, so it’s kind of a big deal. And it’s not like I’m in the wedding party at all—’

      Neither was he, she realised suddenly. Wasn’t that a little odd? I mean, she knew why her sister wouldn’t want her trailing down the aisle in front of her with a bouquet, but why didn’t Riley want his brother standing up beside him for the ceremony?

      Dan’s face had darkened at her words, so she hurried on, not really paying attention to what she was saying. ‘Which is just as well, since there’s so much to focus on! And besides, being behind the scenes means that it should be easier for me to avoid Benjamin—which is an advantage not to be overlooked.’

      Oh. She hadn’t meant to mention Benjamin.

      Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

      ‘Benjamin?’ Dan asked, and Laurel bit back a sigh.

      Too much to hope for, clearly.

      ‘My ex-fiancé,’ she said succinctly, wondering if there was a way to tell this story that didn’t make her sound like a miserable, weak, doormat of a person.

      Probably not.

      ‘He’s attending the wedding?’ Dan sounded surprised. She supposed that normal sisters wouldn’t invite their sibling’s ex-partner to their wedding. But the relationship between her and Melissa had never even pretended to be ‘normal’.

      ‘With his new fiancée,’ she confirmed.

      Because it wasn’t humiliating enough just to have to face the man she’d thought was The One again, after he’d made it abundantly clear she wasn’t his anything, in front of her family, celebrities and the world’s media. She also had to do it with her replacement in attendance.

      ‘His parents are old friends of my father’s. We practically grew up together. Unlike me and my sister.’ She was only making things worse. ‘So, yeah, he’ll be there—just to maximise the awkward. And I’m not exactly looking forward to it, I’ll admit—especially since I haven’t seen him since... Anyway, it’ll all be fine, and I’ll mostly be organising wedding things anyway, like I said, so...’

      There had to be a way out of this conversation that left her just a little dignity, surely? If she kept digging long enough maybe she’d find it—before her pride and self-confidence hitched a ride back to London in a passing cab.

      ‘The Wedding March’ rang out from the phone in her hand, and Laurel gave a silent prayer of thanks for the interruption—until she saw the name on the screen.

      Melissa. Of course.

      Sighing, she flashed a brief smile at Dan. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

      He leant back against the leather seats and nodded. ‘Of course.’

      Laurel pressed ‘answer’. Time to see how her half-sister intended to make her day a little worse.

      * * *

      Considering that the hot little brunette who’d gatecrashed his ride to the hotel had done nothing but talk since they met, she was doing surprisingly little talking on her phone call.

      ‘Yes, but—’ Another sigh. ‘Of course, Melissa. You’re the bride, after all.’

      Melissa. The blonde bombshell who’d exploded into his little brother’s world a year ago and taken it over. Dan and Riley had never been exactly what he’d call close—the six-year age-gap meant that they’d done their growing up at different times, and their parents’ blatant favouritism towards their younger son hadn’t made bonding any easier.

      But the distance between them didn’t change the fact that Riley was his little brother and Dan loved him regardless. He’d loved him all through his Golden Boy childhood, through their parents cutting Dan off when he’d moved to LA and become a stuntman without their approval, and even through their outstanding hypocrisy when Riley had followed him nine years later.

      Their parents were both world-renowned in their fields—cardiac surgery for their mother and orthopaedics for his father. That would have been enough to try and live up to under normal circumstances. But Dan had given up competing with anybody long before his younger brother had moved to Hollywood and become a star.

      It wasn’t as if he was doing so shabbily by anyone’s terms—even his own. He owned his own business and his turnover doubled every year. He probably earned nearly as much as his hotshot brother, and even if the public would never know his name, the people who mattered in Hollywood did. He—or rather his company, Black Ops Stunts—was the first port of call for any major studio making an action movie these days. He’d made a success of the career his parents had been sure would kill him or ruin him.

      Not that they cared all that much either way.

      Dan shifted in his seat as he contemplated the week ahead of him. Five days in a luxury hotel—not so bad. Five days with the rich and obnoxious—less good. Five days dealing with his parents—nightmare.

      When the invitation had first fallen onto his doormat he’d honestly considered skipping the whole thing. Formal events weren’t really his style, and he spent enough time with Hollywood actors to know that some of them had surprisingly little respect for the people who saved them from risking their lives doing their own stunts. And from what he’d heard about Melissa Sommers she was definitely one of them.

      In fact it was all the industry gossip about Melissa that had persuaded him that he needed to be at Morwen Hall that week. Or rather the conflicting reports.

      As far as Dan could tell every director and co-star who had ever worked with Melissa thought she was an angel. Anyone who ranked lower than a named credit in the titles, however, told a rather different story.

      He sighed, running through his mind once more the series of off-the-record conversations he’d had recently. It wasn’t an unfamiliar story—he’d met enough stars who played the part of benevolent, caring, charitable celebrity to the hilt when anyone who mattered was looking, then turned into a spoilt brat the moment the cameras switched off. He’d even been married to one of them. The only difference was that this time it was Riley marrying the witch—and he needed to be sure his baby brother knew exactly what he was getting in to.

      Riley didn’t do personas, Dan thought. In fact it was a mystery how he’d ever got into acting in the first place. It probably said something that he always got cast to play the nice guy, though. The ‘aw, shucks, good old country boy’ who found true love after ninety minutes, or the clean-cut superhero who could do no wrong.

      That certainly fitted with the way their parents saw him, anyway.

      But this week Dan was far more concerned with how Melissa saw him. Was it true love? Or was he her ticket to something bigger? Her career was doing well, as far as he could tell, but Riley was a step up. Stars had married for a lot less—and he didn’t want to see his brother heartbroken and alone