19
Carole checkedherself out in the mirror and decided she didn’t look too bad at all. Actually, she looked pretty good, even if she did say so herself.
The blush pink tea dress she was wearing shouldn’t have worked—pink wasn’t really her colour—and yet it did work, thanks to the asymmetric swirls in complementary colours of deep rose and frothy candyfloss that stretched across the dress from the waist and melted into the skirt in a way that flattered her curves while adding style and sophistication to the look.
She wore silver kitten heels, silver hoop earrings, a simple bangle on her wrist and a heart-shaped pendant at her neck. Instead of the curls she’d teased into her hair for her cousin’s wedding, she’d opted for a sleeker style with plain silver combs scooping her hair up and away from her face.
The dress had been one of her sister’s brilliant finds online. Last Sunday after dinner at their parents’ house, Carole and Jane had indulged in some clothes browsing on the sofa, and when Jane had found the dress on a preloved site, she’d insisted that Carole buy it and wear it to the wedding she was going to with Tom.
Carole had resisted at first, reminding Jane that she’d been the one who’d convinced her to wear something she already owned when they’d gone to their cousin’s wedding, and also explaining that she’d found a smart teal sheath dress while unpacking the last of her clothing boxes and which she’d forgotten she even owned and which she’d decided would do the job just fine.
But Jane had insisted that the blush pink tea dress was too gorgeous not to buy, especially considering the price it was going for. Before Carole could stop her, Jane had one-click purchased the dress. When it was delivered a few days later, Carole couldn’t help but fall in love with it.
The dress was stylish and beautiful, but also romantic and just ever so slightly dreamy. It would be perfect for dancing at the reception, with its soft skirt designed for swirling.
The thought of dancing again with Tom made her stomach perform a daft little somersault.
Her hectic work week, combined with the fact that she hadn’t set eyes on Tom since their dessert swap across the garden fence, meant it had been easy not to think too much about him. Now that their second wedding plus-one arrangement was about to begin, her stupid crush was roaring back in wicked triumph.
She shook her head at herself in the mirror.
“What is wrong with you?” she hissed at her reflection.
There was no answer—which was probably just as well, because if her reflection was talking back at her, then she had more serious problems to worry about than a stupid crush.
Still, the crush was a big problem, just the same.
Last night, when Tom had texted about the wedding arrangements for the day, she’d been on the cusp of falling into a lengthy message exchange with him. Or at least, that’s what she’dwantedto happen. She’d had to remind herself that Tomhad just got home from his work trip and was probably shattered from all the meetings and the long drive.
He’d just wanted to check their departure time, not kick off an endless message exchange. Carole had forced herself to delete a stupidly long text she’d been about to send, containing mindless conversational bits and pieces that Tom probably couldn’t care less about, and send a thumbs-up emoji instead.
That had brought the messaging to an end, proving that Tom had only wanted to confirm their arrangements before collapsing onto the sofa or into bed or just getting on with minding his own business without being badgered by the crazy crush lady next-door.
“You’re deranged,” Carole told her reflection in the mirror.
Deciding she’d done quite enough posing and pouting in front of the mirror, she sprayed some styling product into her hair to keep the silver combs in place and grabbed the small silver clutch bag she’d already packed with cosmetic essentials. Her phone pinged with a message from Tom, saying their taxi would be there any minute.
She’d assumed she would drive them to the wedding, as per their agreement and the fact that Tom had taken on driving duties for her cousin’s wedding. But while swapping more messages earlier that morning to confirm all was still well their arrangements, Tom had insisted that a taxi made sense this time around. The wedding and reception were both being held in the same hotel, which was located just a few miles outside of Hamblehurst anyway.
If they travelled by taxi, they could both enjoy a few glasses of wine with dinner, Tom had said, and Carole hadn’t found any reason to object to that, so long as they shared the taxi costs.
Carole stepped outside her house at the same moment as Tom stepped out of his. They shared an amused laugh at their departure synchronisation.
“Carole, you look fantastic,” Tom said.
“Thanks. So do you. Oh, and I, er, love your tie.”
She quirked an eyebrow as she said it. Tom’s tie was hard to miss, featuring a design of brightly coloured cartoon-style hearts against an electric blue background. Fun though it was, it struck her as an odd choice to pair with the sleek dark grey suit he wore, and which looked just as designer-y and expensive as the one he’d worn to the last wedding they’d gone to.
Tom let out a resigned laugh and ran a hand down the tie. “Evie picked it out for me to wear today. Believe me, I tried to steer her towards something else, but her heart was set on this one and no amount of persuading could convince her otherwise.”
The look on his face combined with his explanation about the hideous tie made something melt inside Carole’s heart. That he’d wear the dreadful item just to please the little girl he obviously loved so much was…
… sweet? Touching? Enough to make a woman turn to jelly? All of the above?
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you wearing it,” Carole said.
“As will everyone else who finds themselves blinded by the technicolour brilliance of this garment.”
