Wedding Party Collection: Once A Bridesmaid.... Avril Tremayne

in the womb—hello, Dr Frankenstein!’ Pause for breath. ‘All that aside, I’m pretty sure they used to burn people like me at the stake as witches back in the day.’

      ‘Nobody is going to burn you at the stake in modern-day Australia for having one blue and one green eye.’

      ‘I’ve tried contact lenses, but there is nothing that makes you panic quite like a contact lens that’s slipped up under your eyelid and you think it’s going to be there for eternity unless you race off to the emergency room and have someone stick some implement in there against your poor squishy eyeball. Talk about bloodshot!’ She pursed her lips. ‘But I guess I could try them again—maybe some amber ones.’ She looked into his eyes, considering. ‘Because your eyes really are lovely, and I think I’d look kind of interesting with amber eyes.’

      ‘You do that and I’m shaving my head.’

      Sunshine took another look in the mirror, then snapped the compact shut. ‘All right. Deal. I may need a little make-up on the actual day of the reception, just so I don’t look Plain Janerama, but no camouflage paint in the meantime. I’m keeping the lipstick, though—I can’t go completely naked. So! Where’s the bathroom?’

      Plain Janerama? Leo, speechless, pointed.

      Sunshine got to her feet. ‘No need to wait,’ she told him.

      ‘Oh, I’m waiting.’

      She squared her shoulders. ‘This is going to be weird,’ she said, and tap-tapped away.

      Leo checked that everything was in order in the kitchen, then returned to the table. He went through the checklist again. Swore under his breath. He suspected Sunshine Smart usually got her way in all things. Which meant she was in for a surprise, because just on principle he wasn’t going to let that happen. He hadn’t got where he was today by doing what people told him. His survival instinct told him always to go his own way, to get his own way.

      He started jotting down menu ideas—appropriate for a dinner for twenty-five people—but hadn’t got far when he heard the tap-tap of Sunshine’s returning high heels.

      She plonked herself into the chair opposite and did an over-the-top eyelash-bat at him.

      Leo stared at her. He couldn’t help it. Without the exaggerated eye make-up she looked fresh and clean and sweet as suckable candy. Her dark chocolate hair against the ultra-white skin of her face seemed more dramatic. With the edge of her heavy fringe now damp and misplaced, he could see how fine and dark her eyebrows were, and that they arched intriguingly towards the outer edge. Her eyelashes were thick and black enough to form a fine line around her eyes. And her eyes were simply spectacular. Heavy-lidded, slightly tilted, the colour difference so dramatic without the dark shadow and over-clumped lashes that he couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.

      ‘Well?’ she asked, batting away.

      ‘Better,’ Leo said, with impressive understatement. He got to his feet. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then—an hour earlier, if you can make it. But you’ll have to come to Mainefare—it’s in the Pig and Poke pub. Do you know it?’

      ‘Yes, I know it—and, yes, that’s fine. But before you go can I ask just one more favour?’

      Leo eyed her suspiciously.

      ‘I’m staying for dinner,’ she explained. ‘Don’t worry—I have a booking. It’s just that my date—Gary, his name is—is a massive foodie, and he’d really love to meet you. Perhaps you could just pop out and say hello...?’

      ‘Oh, sure,’ Leo agreed easily. He’d been expecting something worse—maybe that he have a shot of Botox!—and, anyway, speaking to his customers was part of his routine.

      ‘And do you think I could have this exact table? It has a lovely view over the park. If it’s reserved I’ll understand, but—’

      He caught his impatient sigh before it could erupt. ‘You can have the table, Sunshine.’

      ‘And could I have a Campari and soda while I wait for Gary?’

      ‘Fine,’ Leo said, irritated that it made him curious about her—because he would have pegged her for a Cosmopolitan girl. And who the hell cared what she liked to drink? ‘I’ll get one sent over.’

      ‘And—’

      ‘Good God, what else?’

      ‘Just that it’s Gary’s birthday...so if there’s a special dessert or something...?’

      ‘Yes. I. Will. Send. Out. A. Special. Dessert. Now, are you all right for socks and undies, or do you need me to get you some of those too?’

      ‘Actually, I never wear socks.’ Sunshine smiled serenely. ‘And I’m not wearing undies tonight—not under this dress!’

      Leo could feel his eyes bug out of his head. ‘Thanks for that mental picture, Sunshine. Anything else you’d care to share?’

      ‘Well...’

      ‘Yeah, hold that thought,’ he said, and made a bolt for the kitchen. Where he leant against the wall and burst out laughing.

      His sous chef looked at him as if he’d grown a gigantic unicorn horn.

      Clearly it had been a long time since he’d laughed.

      * * *

      Yum.

      That was the word that had been popping into Sunshine’s head with monotonous regularity from the moment Leo had sent out a bowl of polenta chips with a gorgonzola dipping sauce to snack on while she drank her Campari.

      Q Brasserie had an open kitchen, so she could not only smell but also see the magic being wrought on an array of seafood and meat—and, okay, vegetables too, although they were a lot less interesting if you asked her.

      She rubbernecked as a steady stream of mouthwatering dishes was whisked past her en route to other diners, agonised over the menu choices and wished she could eat everything.

      Sunshine basically Hoovered up her entrée of six plump, perfectly sautéed scallops, served with a Japanese-style dressing of cucumber, rice vinegar, mirin, and ginger. And it took great willpower not to beg a taste of Gary’s mushrooms with truffle custard. She wouldn’t normally covet a vegetarian dish but, come on, truffle custard? Yum!

      The main meals were sublime. She ate every bite of her Angus beef brisket, served with smoked bone marrow and potato confit, and, giving in to her inner piglet on the date-taste issue, was in the process of polishing off one of Gary’s divine king prawns—chargrilled with coriander and lime, yum, yum, yum—when up bowled Leo.

      He’d changed from his jeans, T-shirt and way cool brown leather lace-ups into a spotlessly clean, double-breasted chef’s jacket, finely checked pants and classy black slip-ons, and he looked sigh-worthy.

      Leo looked at her well-cleaned plate. At Gary’s. At the tiny piece of prawn on the end of her fork. His eyebrows shot up.

      Sunshine knew she was presenting as a glutton—but so what? She liked food! Sue her! She calmly finished the last bite of prawn and laid her fork on her plate.

      She made the introductions, then retreated as Leo engaged Gary in a conversation about food.

      Gary looked a little starstruck. Which was kind of sweet. He was kind of sweet. Not that their relationship was going anywhere. This was their third date and from her perspective he’d settled into purely platonic material. She hadn’t had even one lascivious thought about him.

      The conversation moved on from food and Gary was explaining a little about his job. He was an investment banker—which was more interesting than it sounded. Truly!

      ‘Nice talking to you Gary,’ Leo said eventually. ‘Dessert is on the house. Happy birthday, and enjoy the rest of your evening.

      * * *

      Leo had been aware of Sunshine beaming