The Bridesmaid's Dilemma

by Karen King

Genres: Marriage & Divorce; Women's Fiction; Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

Every summer has a story... Fun-loving travel rep Jess doesn't want to be chief bridesmaid at her snooty cousin's wedding, but it will cause a family feud if she refuses. She doesn't want to fall in love either but when a raucous stag party arrives at her Majorcan hotel, Jess hits it off instantly with best man, Eddie. A summer romance is exactly what commitment-phobe Jess needs and, as the stag-do draws to a close, so does the holiday fling. She has no intentions of carrying on the summer fun but when Eddie turns up again, Jess is faced with a big dilemma. Will this bridesmaid get the happy-ever-after she never knew she wanted...

Release date: May 3, 2018

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 278

Sample

Chapter One

Jess stretched out on the sunbed, factor fifteen and the parasol protecting her already golden skin from the heat of the afternoon sun. It was lovely to finally have the chance to relax by the pool. As usual, the morning had been full-on. She and Libby – lounging on the sunbed next to her – were in charge of the Fitness Classes and had spent two hours jumping, bending, stretching, and jogging on the spot with a group of holidaymakers. Being a holiday rep with Time of Your Life Holidays was fun but exhausting.

‘This is heaven. I could lie here all day.’

‘Me too. This week’s been so hectic. It’s going to be non-stop now the schools have broken up.’ Libby sighed. ‘Lucky you, having next weekend off. I wouldn’t mind flying back home for a few days.’

‘I’d like it a lot more if I didn’t have to be chief bridesmaid at Charlotte’s wedding,’ Jess replied. ‘That’s going to be a barrel of fun – not.’

Her first reaction when her cousin Charlotte had asked her to be chief bridesmaid was astonishment – she and Charlotte had never got on and usually tried to avoid each other.

Her second reaction had been panic. She didn’t do weddings, or frothy dresses, and she knew that Charlotte, with her obsession for perfection, would be the bridezilla from hell. She couldn’t refuse though, not when she knew how much it meant to her mum. And so, Jess had reluctantly agreed, even though she suspected that she’d only been asked because Charlotte had no sisters and precious few friends – even the other two bridesmaids were sisters of her fiancé, Russell.

‘It might not be that bad. And I bet the best man is a hunk. You know what they say about the chief bridesmaid and best man,’ Libby teased. ‘It’s compulsory for them to have a dance together and a few kisses – at the very least.’ She grinned at Jess and cocked her head to one side. ‘What’s her fella like?’

‘No idea, never met him. I haven’t seen Charlotte for years. All I know is that his name’s Russell and his work involves something to do with exports.’

‘I can’t believe your cousin doesn’t have a Facebook page. We could have a nose then, see what this Russell is like.’

‘Charlotte “doesn’t approve of society’s obsession with social media.”’ Jess made finger quotes as she said the words. It would have been a lot easier to keep in touch with Charlotte if she was on Facebook – and if she was less of a nightmare person – but as it was, wedding-related messages were coming solely through email.

‘She sounds a right barrel of laughs. So, you’ve no idea who the best man is?’

‘Mum said he’s an old school friend of Russell’s. I expect he’ll be very staid and boring. Russell will be, too. Charlotte’s boyfriends always are.’ She’d met a couple of Charlotte’s previous boyfriends and hadn’t been impressed. One of them, a sleaze-ball called Simon, had taken a shine to Jess and become a bit of a stalker. ‘Which reminds me, I’ve still got some stuff to get before I leave, new shoes for a start. I won’t have time to buy any when I land.’

‘Isn’t your cousin providing the shoes?’ Libby asked her. ‘I thought she had everything planned.’

‘She’s got my bridesmaid’s shoes – they’re quite pretty, not the sort of thing I’d normally wear, though. Look…’ Jess fished in the beach bag beside her sunbed, took out her phone and slid to photos. Selecting the wedding folder she’d created, she zoomed in on the picture of the shoes Charlotte had sent over to her. Gold, strappy, high-heeled sandals decorated with tiny crystals.

‘They’re gorge. But yeah, not your usual style,’ Libby agreed. ‘Let’s take a look at your dress again.’

Jess swiped to the picture of the bridesmaid’s dress; whimsical, strapless, lemon chiffon with a floaty skirt that draped up above her knees at the front, but trailed delicately down the backs of her legs, brushing behind her ankles. Pretty and elegantly simple.

‘It’s gorgeous. What an unusual colour, it’ll suit you. Are all the bridesmaids’ dresses this colour?’ Libby leaned over to get a closer look at the photo.

‘Yes, we’re all wearing the same dress. Charlotte said she thought pastel colours were kinder for “older” bridesmaids.’ Jess wrinkled her nose. Although Charlotte was only two years younger than her she took a delight in pointing out that, at almost thirty, Jess was the eldest of the three bridesmaids. ‘It is a lovely dress, isn’t it? I hope it fits.’ She’d been relieved Charlotte had gone for such a beautifully cut, classic style. Knowing how over-the-top her snooty cousin could be, she’d been dreading having to wear a princess gown of frills and lace.

‘Pity you couldn’t fly over for a fitting,’ Libby said.

‘No chance of that. You know what Ziggy’s like. It’s a wonder he’s given me time off to go to the wedding, Charlotte didn’t give me much notice.’ Charlotte had only emailed asking her to be chief bridesmaid a couple of months ago, having got Jess’s email address off her mum, and it had taken all Jess’s powers of persuasion to talk Ziggy into allowing her four days off in the middle of the holiday season so that she could attend the wedding. She didn’t dare ask him for an additional weekend beforehand to fly over for a dress fitting and wedding rehearsal. He’d have had a mega-fit. Not that she minded not being able to go. The flights would have cost her a few hundred pounds this time of year, and the less time she spent with Charlotte, the better. So, she’d sent her dress and shoe size and left her cousin to get whatever she thought was best – crossing her fingers she wouldn’t choose anything too ghastly.

‘You’re going to look totally stunning in that dress and those shoes.’

‘I hope so. Not too stunning, of course, can’t outshine the bride!’ Jess fingered a lock of her long red hair. ‘Do you know Charlotte and Aunt Jean actually wanted me to dye my hair brown or black so it,’ she made quote marks with her fingers again ‘“wouldn’t dominate the photographs.”’

Libby shot her an amused look. ‘What a cheek. Yeah, your hair is a bit… bright… but it suits you. I can’t imagine it any other colour.’

Neither could Jess. She’d always been confident and – as her mother often said – stubborn – so her reaction to the High School playground teasing of her naturally ginger hair was to dye it traffic light red one afternoon when her mother was out. It got her grounded for a week, but the bullies soon shut up, in fact some of them even tried to imitate her, much to Jess’s delight. She had kept it red ever since, sometimes alternating the shades - tomato bright for the summer, more of a berry colour in the winter. She loved her hair and had no intention of dying it a boring black, especially for her spoilt cousin’s wedding.

‘I wish I could see you all dolled up as a bridesmaid,’ Libby said. ‘Make sure you take plenty of pictures.’

‘I wish you could come with me. I’m dreading it. Aunt Jean and Charlotte will have everything planned down to the last detail, I’ll be terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. And of course, it’ll be totally boring.’

Libby grinned. ‘I can’t imagine you being terrified of anyone! You don’t give a damn what anyone thinks!’

‘I don’t, but Mum does. She’ll be devastated if I do anything to upset them. She’s made up that I’ve been asked to be chief bridesmaid, so I’ll have to be on my best behaviour.’ Jess returned her attention to her phone and swiped onto the next photo. ‘Anyway, here’s Charlotte’s wedding dress, she sent it to me last night.’ A frothy white creation of lace, satin, and net filled her screen. Charlotte’s madly expensive designer dress was a big secret and not to be revealed until her wedding day, but as Jess was chief bridesmaid – and more to the point, Charlotte couldn’t resist boasting – she’d agreed to send her a photo, swearing her to secrecy first. Jess had never seen a dress like it. It was so Big Fat Gypsy Wedding.

‘Wow! Talk about a meringue!’ Libby exclaimed. She leaned over and panned out the photo with her fingers. ‘That must have cost a fortune.’

‘Only the best for precious Charlotte,’ Jess said lightly. She’d decided long ago not to let Charlotte or Aunt Jean get to her. The only child of doting parents who thought they would never get their dream of a family of their own, Charlotte was cossetted and spoilt. Anything she wanted, she got. Whereas Jess and her two older brothers, Ned and Jake, had learnt early on that life didn’t revolve around them and they had to make do. Their father had walked out when Jess was only a toddler, leaving behind a trail of debts and a falling-down house. Jess’s mum had worked all the hours she could, both as a child-minder and at the local supermarket, to pay off the debts, do up the house and feed them all, and as soon as they were old enough, Jess and her brothers had got jobs, too. Jess was loved, but there was no time or money for spoiling.

‘Never mind, it’ll all be over with next week. And it’ll be lovely for you to see your family again,’ Libby told her, leaning back on the sun lounger. ‘What type of shoes are you looking for?’

‘Something dressy to wear over the weekend. Charlotte’s booked me in at the hotel overnight and the other two bridesmaids are staying there too, so we’ll be having a few drinks.’ Jess shoved her phone in her beach bag, got up, and slung it over her shoulder. ‘I’d better be off now. See you later.’ She paused. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy coming?’ It’d be good to have some company, although, knowing Libby, she’d try to persuade her to buy something outrageous.

‘Do you mind if I don’t? I just fancy lying here and sunbathing for a bit. I’m feeling lazy.’

‘No probs. See you later.’

Jess changed into a pair of frayed denim shorts and a yellow T-shirt, smoothed on some more sun cream, slipped on her sunglasses and a pair of flip flops, and headed off to the main area of town where the bigger shops were. It was teeming with holidaymakers as usual. She recognised a couple of hotel guests and waved at them. This was the first time she’d worked in Majorca, and she was loving it. It was a pretty island, and thankfully she was working at a hotel on the quieter side. Libby had complained, preferring to work over in the livelier resort of Magaluf, but Jess didn’t share her younger friend’s enthusiasm for such a wild social life. She’d gone through all that ‘dancing until dawn, grabbing two hours sleep then getting up and working again’ thing, and now liked to be in bed by one at the latest if she was working the next day. The reps were a great bunch and Ziggy wasn’t a bad boss, although he could be a bit of a slave driver.

‘Ah, Jessica!’ Damián said, coming out of the jewellers where he worked. ‘How are you?’

They chatted for a while. Damián and his wife, Marta, were good friends to Jess. She had already told him about the wedding, so now she showed him the photo of her bridesmaid’s dress.

‘You’ll look maravilloso,’ he said. ‘I bet the best man won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.’

‘You’re as bad as Libby! I’ve told her, the best man will probably be a total bore and I’ll spend the entire day trying to avoid him.’

Damián leaned over and kissed her on both cheeks.

‘Enjoy your shopping. Maybe we will see you and Libby later, at Aquarius? Si?’

Aquarius was the local night club, a favourite of the reps who often dropped in for an hour or so after finishing work, especially if they weren’t on early morning duty. Jess and Libby were part of the evening animation team, so were off duty until two tomorrow afternoon – but then it was non-stop until midnight.

‘I’ll be there,’ she said. ‘Hasta luego!’

She waved and set off on her way.

It didn’t take Jess long to find the shoes she wanted in her favourite shoe boutique in the middle of the town. Royal blue suede with skyscraper heels, they were perfect and would look good with either jeans or a dress. True, they were a bit more than she had wanted to pay, but she couldn’t resist them. She picked up the other couple of odds and ends she needed then set off back home, taking the beachfront route so she could paddle barefoot along the sea shore.

What a glorious day.

She wished she could spend the afternoon sunbathing on the beach like the scores of holidaymakers. Still, she had the whole day off on Sunday and could enjoy the sunshine then.

Libby was still lounging by the pool, and had been joined by Kurt and Charlie, two other reps, when Jess returned.

‘Did you get your shoes?’ she asked.

Jess opened the bag and took them out.

‘What do think?’ she replied, holding them up.

Whistles of appreciation greeted her.

‘Sexy!’ Kurt said appreciatively.

‘They’re fantastic,’ Libby told her. ‘They look just like Louboutins.’ She picked up her phone and jabbed at a couple of keys. ‘Look.’ She held up the screen so Jess could see. She’d got up the Louboutin website and there were a pair of blue shoes almost identical to the ones Jess had just bought – except for the trademark red soles.

‘I wish! I can just imagine Charlotte’s face if I turned up in a pair of Loubs,’ Jess said.

Libby grinned mischievously. ‘Why don’t you paint the soles red? They’ll look just like Loubs then. Nail varnish will do the trick,’ she added, as if she’d tried it. Knowing Libby, she probably had.

‘Classic. I think I will,’ said Jess. ‘If I don’t let Charlotte get too close a look at them even she might be fooled.’ She chuckled at the thought of her snooty cousin’s reaction if she turned up in a pair of Louboutins.

She stood chatting for a while, then left to put her things away. As she walked through reception she saw Manuel remonstrating with a group of men, all dressed identically in jeans and black T-shirts. She paused and looked over as a fair-haired man in the group raised his voice.

‘We’re booked in. You can’t send us away,’ the man said angrily. ‘This is my stag do.’

‘Exactly, and this is a family hotel. We don’t allow stag parties to stay here. It is against our policy. It’s written quite clearly on our website.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the man protested. ‘If there was a problem you should have told my fiancée when she booked the room.’

‘A junior member of our staff dealt with the booking and didn’t realise it was for a stag party. As I said, it’s stated quite clearly on our website that we don’t accept bookings for hen or stag parties.’ Manuel swung the screen around to show them the homepage where Jess knew the policy was written. She guessed it was Elena who had taken the booking, she was the newest member of staff.

‘You mean we’ve paid to stay here but you’re not going to let us?’ another of the group demanded.

‘Rules are rules,’ Manuel said. ‘We will refund your money, of course, so you can book in somewhere else. This is a family hotel. We can’t have groups of drunken men coming home late from nightclubs disturbing everyone.’

‘Charming…!’ One of the other men joined in but Manuel cut him short.

‘Sir, you are over here on a stag party so I presume you don’t intend to spend the entire weekend lounging by the pool and watching the hotel entertainment? In fact, it is quite obvious that you have all had a few drinks during the flight over here.’

Jess couldn’t help feeling sorry for the guys but knew that there was no way Manuel would let them all stay here. The hotel prided itself on its reputation for providing for families. She carried on over to the lift.

‘Surely there eez something you can do? We will be no trouble. And we need somewhere to stay.’ At the sound of the French accent Jess turned back and looked over. The man had his back to her, but there was something about that unruly dark hair that curled at the back of his neck and the deep, sexy voice that made her walk over to the desk to see if she could help.

Chapter Two

‘Look, I know it’s disappointing, guys, but Manuel is right, it is hotel policy not to allow stag or hen party groups to stay, so he’s only doing his job,’ Jess said as she joined them. ‘I’m one of the reps here - let’s see if we can sort something out, after all, you made the booking in good faith.’ She turned to Manuel. ‘Perhaps two of them can stay at our sister hotel next door and the other two over the road, Manuel? Could you arrange that? Do they both have a room spare?’

Manuel frowned. ‘It’s very irregular, Jess.’

‘What? Stay at different hotels?’ The groom-to-be turned towards her and she noticed the name Ross printed in white on the front of his T-shirt in typical stag do tradition. ‘This is my stag do. We’re all meant to be holidaying together.’

‘I know, but I’m afraid that it’s a policy of all three local hotels not to accept a booking for single sex groups,’ Jess explained. ‘Not that they’re likely to have three empty rooms at this time of year anyway. You’ll find that most of the hotels will only have the odd room spare – if any at all.’

‘Some stag do this will be,’ Ross grumbled.

‘You won’t be that far from each other, you can use all three of the hotels’ facilities and can easily meet up,’ Jess told him. ‘I know it isn’t perfect but it’s not too bad, surely? If you’re anything like the stag parties I’ve seen, you’ll only be in your rooms to crash out.’

She could feel the French guy’s eyes on her so flashed him a smile hoping to get him on side. He smiled back. Nice.

‘That sounds a veree good idea. Doesn’t it, Ross?’ Good, she’d convinced – she looked at the name on his T-shirt – Eddie – not a very French sounding name, but it suited him. Let’s hope he could persuade the others. She was pretty sure Manuel would agree. The hotel was partly at fault, after all, for not checking although Manuel would hate the fact that she was the one who suggested an alternative, not him.

Ross didn’t look too happy. ‘We are all booked to stay here. It won’t be as much fun if we’re split up,’ he protested.

‘Well that is out of the question. I’ve told you it’s against our hotel policy.’ Manuel crossed his arms firmly.

‘Come on mate, it’ll be fine. The other hotels are minutes away,’ said another man – Tony, according to his T-shirt.

‘Yeah, like the lass said, we only need our rooms to crash out.’ This was from Matt who spoke in a strong Northern accent.

Manuel didn’t look convinced. Jess knew he was a stickler for regulations and upholding the good name of the hotel. Whilst he didn’t mind guests enjoying themselves, he was very aware that it was a family hotel with children staying, so wouldn’t allow any kind of rowdy behaviour. A stag party was probably his worst nightmare. Still, she felt sorry for the guys, they seemed a decent bunch. Most people would be angry at arriving at the hotel they’d booked into only to be told they couldn’t stay and would probably become quite aggressive.

‘That’ll be okay won’t it, Manuel? They’re here now and we can’t turn them all out onto the street,’ Jess pointed out.

‘I can guarantee you that we will be no problem,’ Eddie assured him.

Manuel reluctantly relented. ‘All right, I’ll check to see if the other two hotels have spare rooms.’ He clicked on the computer and studied the screen. After a few minutes of tapping away on the keyboard and sighing to himself, he continued speaking. ‘Yes, luckily they do. I’ll book you in, but I must insist that you don’t all gather in one of the rooms after midnight holding wild parties.’ He looked at each of the men in turn. ‘And no inappropriate attire.’

‘Inappropriate attire?’ Ross gaped at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘No strutting around in little tutus or women’s underwear. I have heard about you Englees when you are on your stag nights.’ Manuel replied. ‘We will have no nakedness either.’

Jess burst out laughing and caught Eddie’s eyes. He was grinning, too, his dark brown eyes twinkling.

I wouldn’t mind seeing you naked, Jess thought.

He was quite something. Sooty black hair that she longed to run her fingers through, a cute moustache and even cuter goatee beard, smiling eyes the colour of rich dark chocolate, a silver hoop ring through one ear and a silver dog-tag hanging from a chain over his compulsory stag-do T-shirt. Forget hot, this guy was sizzling.

Ross looked offended. ‘We’ve no intention of wearing tutus or strutting around naked,’ he said. Then a wary look crossed his face and he shot a worried glance at the other five men. ‘You haven’t got anything like that planned, have you? Because if you have, forget it. Carly wil. . .