It was crass to talk about money, his mother had always told him that, but if her answer was the one he expected then it would be a clear indication that Melissa was the user he suspected her to be.
The answer was clear on Laurel’s face as her smile disappeared altogether. ‘It’s great experience. And an opportunity to get my company name in the world’s media.’
Translation: Melissa wasn’t paying her anything, and Dan knew for sure that she and Riley could afford it.
‘Right,’ he said, ignoring the burning sense of unfairness in his chest. Laurel didn’t deserve this—any of this. Not her ex at the wedding, not her sister taking advantage—not even him, using her to suss out the truth of his brother’s relationship with Melissa.
It was a good job he’d decided that Laurel was off limits, because Dan had always had a soft spot for a damsel in distress, and a habit of rooting for the underdog. As a friend, he could help her out. But he couldn’t let himself even consider anything more.
Which was where that iron-clad control he’d spent so long developing came in.
The car took a sharp turn and Dan turned away to peer out of the window. As they broke through the tree cover—when had they left the city? How had he missed that?—a large, Gothic-looking building loomed into sight, all high-peaked arches and cold, forbidding stone.
That just had to be Morwen Hall. It looked as if Dracula wouldn’t feel out of place there, and as far as Dan could tell Melissa was the nearest thing the modern world had to a vampire, so that was about right.
‘I think we’re here,’ he said.
Laurel leant across the empty seat between them, stretching her seatbelt tight as she tried to look out of his window. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry, I’ve spent the whole journey talking about me! We’re supposed to be being friends, and I still don’t know anything about you!’
Dan shrugged. ‘I’m a simple guy. There’s not much to know.’
She sighed. ‘I was hoping I could pick your brains about your family. Get a feel for who everyone is before tonight’s welcome drinks.’
Thinking back to all the highly detailed emails she’d sent him during the wedding planning process, Dan laughed. ‘Come on—don’t try and tell me you haven’t got the guest list memorised, alphabetically and backwards probably, along with pertinent details on everyone attending. You probably know my family better than I do at this point.’
It wasn’t even a lie. He hadn’t stayed in close touch with any of them these last few years. When it came to their jobs, their hobbies, their movements, Laurel probably did know more than him.
She smiled down at her hands. ‘Well, maybe. I like to do a thorough job.’
There was no hint of innuendo in the words, but something about them shot straight to Dan’s libido as she looked up at him through her lashes. Laurel, with her attention to detail, her perfectionism...everything he’d seen through her emails as she’d been planning the wedding...maybe he knew her better than she thought, too. And he couldn’t help but imagine what all that detail orientated focus would feel like when turned to their mutual pleasure.
Not that he would have a chance to find out. Seducing Laurel Sommers was not an option—not when she might still be harbouring feelings for her ex, and not when she was holding out for a prince. Which was a pity...
He shook the thought away as the car came to a stop directly outside the Gothic monstrosity that was Morwen Hall.
‘We’re here,’ Laurel said, and bit her lip.
He flashed Laurel a smile. ‘Time to face the mob.’
* * *
The mob. Her family, his family, her ex...most of the Hollywood elite and a delegation from Star! magazine.
All the people she’d least like to see. Hooray.
Laurel’s knees wobbled as she stepped out of the car, but in an instant Dan was there, offering her his hand as she descended. A friendly hand, she reminded herself as he smiled at her. She wasn’t going to waste time pretending that there could be anything more between them. Apart from anything else, if there was a chance of that he wouldn’t have offered to be her fake boyfriend, would he?
Besides, she was waiting for the real thing—the right person, the right time, the right place. And Dan, at Melissa’s wedding, surrounded by their families, while Laurel was working every second to make the week perfect and magazine-worthy, was definitely not any of those things.
She looked up to thank Dan for his assistance when something else caught her eye. A too-flashy car, pulling up beside theirs on the driveway. A shiny silver convertible, the sort that Benjamin had liked to drive...
Oh. Perfect. There he was, her cheating rat of an ex, all ready to make her miserable week just a little bit more unbearable.
Her feelings must have shown in her face, because as Benjamin shut off the engine Dan bent his head so his mouth was by her ear and whispered, ‘This is the ex?’
Laurel nodded, unable to keep her eyes off the car. She couldn’t look at Benjamin, of course. And she couldn’t look at Dan or he’d know how truly pathetic she was. And she definitely couldn’t stare at the tall, leggy blonde that Benjamin was helping out of the car, even if she did look a bit like Melissa. The car seemed by far the safest bet.
Cars didn’t betray a person, or break her heart. Cars were safe.
Far safer than love.
Love, in Laurel’s experience, went hand in hand with trust and hope. None of which had ever worked out all that well for her.
Every time she’d had hope for the future that relied on another person, and every time she’d trusted a person she loved, she’d been let down. More than that—she’d been left abandoned, feeling worthless and hopeless.
Which was why, these days, she was putting all her faith, hope and trust in herself and in her business. That way at least if she got hurt it was her own stupid fault. One day her prince would come—and he’d be the kind of equal opportunities prince who loved it that she had a successful career, and thought she was brilliant just the way she was. In the meantime, she would never, ever feel that worthless again.
‘Laurel!’ Benjamin called out, a wide smile on his face as the blonde stepped out of the car, high heels sinking in the gravel of the driveway. ‘How lovely to see you! Quite the venue you’ve picked here.’ He shot a glance over at Morwen Hall and winced. ‘It doesn’t exactly scream romance, I have to say, but I’m sure you know what you’re doing.’
Always that slight dig—that slight suggestion that she was doing something wrong. Never enough for her to call him on it—he’d just put his hands up and laugh, saying she was being over-sensitive. But just enough to leave her in no doubt that he knew better than she did. She wasn’t quite good enough.
Well, the biggest advantage of not being in love with him any more was that she didn’t have to care what he thought.
‘Giving my sister the wedding of her dreams!’ she said, smiling as sweetly as she could as she held a hand out to the blonde, for all the world as if she was meeting her for the first time and hadn’t found her naked in her own bed six months previously. Because she was a professional, dammit, and she would prove it. ‘Hi, I’m Laurel Sommers. The wedding planner.’
The blonde’s smile barely reached her cheeks, let alone her eyes. ‘Coral. Ben’s fiancée,’ she added, obviously wanting to make her status absolutely clear. As if Laurel didn’t already know the whole sordid history of their relationship.
‘Lovely to meet you, Coral,’ Laurel lied. She glanced down at Coral’s left hand, unable to help herself. There it was: a beautiful