‘Dad, we need to talk to you,’ Ivy said, and from the look in her eye Olivia knew she was going to tell him about the blogger. ‘We have a big problem.’
‘Not any more.’ Charles shook his head wonderingly as he gazed at the baking cupcakes. ‘This is perfect. We can do tiers of fairy cakes instead of one huge cake. You girls are so forward-thinking!’ He dug a small notebook and tiny gold pen out of his jacket pocket and began scribbling. ‘Lillian will love it.’
‘Actually, Dad,’ Olivia said, ‘it’s really important that we –’
‘But what about the flower arrangements!’ said Charles. ‘How will they be affected by the fairy cakes?’
Shaking his head and mumbling to himself, he wandered out of the kitchen, leaving Olivia and Ivy to exchange a hopeless glance.
‘It’s nice that he’s so happy,’ Olivia said dubiously.
‘I guess,’ Ivy said. ‘I mean, I didn’t expect my dad to morph into Groomzilla!’
Both girls laughed, but Olivia caught a glimpse of sadness on Ivy’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’
Ivy grimaced. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but . . . I kind of miss “Old Dad”.’
Olivia thought of the slightly strict, wise man she’d met a year ago. ‘He was certainly different.’
‘He’s happier now,’ Ivy said. ‘And I’m happy for him, but . . . “Old Dad” would have listened to us about the blogger. He might even have given us some advice.’
Olivia sighed, understanding exactly what Ivy meant. They would have to deal with this problem on their own.
She jumped as the front door opened again.
‘There you both are!’ Lillian breezed in, stylish as always in a simple but elegant black dress. ‘I was just parking the car up in the garage, but I hoped I wouldn’t be too late to see both of you. Something smells good!’
‘We’re making cupcakes,’ Olivia said. ‘Just the way you showed me.’
‘And let’s hope you like them,’ Ivy added, ‘because Dad’s thinking cupcakes for the wedding.’
‘Oh, well . . .’ Lillian waved one graceful hand in the air and smiled as she pulled a book out of her sleek black bag. ‘Whatever everyone else wants. I don’t mind.’
As Lillian opened her book, the twins shared a meaningful glance. Olivia could see her own reaction mirrored in Ivy’s face. Were brides really meant to be this relaxed? She decided to test the waters with another question.
‘Have you organised your wedding dress yet?’
‘Mmm? What was that?’ Lillian looked up from her book, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry, I know it’s terribly rude to read while we talk, but I just can’t help myself. This novel is amazing! Have you girls read it yet?’
As she held it out to show them, Olivia heard Ivy groan. Bare Throats at Sunset. Why was everyone suddenly reading that book? Luckily, Lillian was too busy gushing to have noticed Ivy’s reaction.
‘I’ve been telling all my friends back in California about it. You have to try it! But, um . . . sorry, what was it you asked?’
‘The wedding dress,’ Olivia prompted.
‘Oh, I’ll check out the sales in a couple of weeks’ time,’ said Lillian. ‘Who knows, I might find something.’
Her gaze slid back down to her paperback. Ivy pointed up towards her bedroom with her baking spoon and shot Olivia a questioning look. Olivia knew what she was asking. Lillian was certainly older and more experienced than they were – it would make sense to ask her for help in dealing with the blogger. But then again, did they really want to disrupt their future stepmom’s serenity right now?
Making a decision, Olivia shook her head firmly at Ivy. They already had Groomzilla on their hands – the last thing they needed was for the bride to stress out too.
‘Lillian? Is that you?’ Charles opened the back door and poked his head inside. ‘I need your opinion on something.’
Still holding Bare Throats at Sunset in her hands, Lillian wandered idly out into the garden to join him. Charles’s voice floated through the open door. ‘If we used Option Three for a marquee and Option Four for the seating arrangements –’ The door closed behind Lillian, shutting off the sound of his voice.
Watching through the window, Olivia saw that, even though Lillian cocked her head attentively as Charles continued to babble, she continued sneak-reading her book.
Then Ivy poked Olivia’s shoulder, distracting her from the show outside. ‘Why did you make me stop?’ she hissed. ‘Lillian would have listened to us. She’s not wedding-crazy like Dad.’
‘Not yet,’ Olivia said. ‘But weddings are so stressful, Lillian’s crazy moments have to be on the way soon – it’s kinder not to bother her with anything just yet.’
‘Well . . . actually, you might have a point.’ Ivy sighed and joined Olivia at the window.
‘I wish I could hear what they’re saying,’ Olivia said.
‘No,’ Ivy said. ‘You really don’t. Trust me.’ She tapped her ears, reminding Olivia that she could hear every word with her vampire super-senses. ‘It’s way too boring and grown-up to be worth eavesdropping on.’
‘Still.’ Olivia leaned companionably against her sister. ‘If I ever get married, I hope I’ll be as relaxed as Lillian and as organised as our bio-dad – the best of both worlds.’ She sighed wistfully, imagining a wedding dress with a huge, sparkly white train. She would feel like an absolute princess as she walked down the aisle to meet her prince – who would not, she told herself firmly, look anything like Jackson, no matter what images her mind conjured up. ‘What about you, Ivy? What kind of arrangements do you want when you get married?’