Page 63 of Wedding Crasher

Dora smiled fondly across the table at her husband. ‘My Ivan’s hung like a donkey.’

Ivan stuck his thumb up at his wife and patted his groin absently as he reached for the butter.

Marla glanced at Tom, who had tears of laughter coursing down his cheeks. He raised his glass in salute. ‘This is hands down the best dinner I’ve ever been to in my life.’

Jonny whistled under his breath and shot an excited look at Emily. ‘Don’t look now, but Gomez and Morticia just walked in.’

Marla followed his gaze to the doors. Crap. That was it. She was done with praying. She cowered behind her oversized menu and hoped desperately that Gabe wouldn’t spot her. She flicked a glance at Rupert. Things had only just settled back into an uneasy truce between them. She was well aware of the simmering animosity between Gabe and Rupert, and she wasn’t sure that their relationship was back on an even enough keel to handle them all being in the same room together.

She risked a quick look around the menu to see who Gabe was with.

Oh. My. God.

Was that hisreceptionist?

Marla scrutinised the woman in the clinging black dress with her hair piled up and too much make-up on.It was! It was Melanie. Surely Gabe wasn’t seriously dating that hideous, dog-murdering girl?But then, why would they be out for dinner à deux at Franco’s, if he wasn’t?

Crap. Melanie was looking their way.

Look away, look away, look away.But of course, Melanie didn’t look away. She tipped her head to the side and met Marla’s gaze with raised eyebrows and a tiny smile. Whatwasthat look in her overly made-up eyes? Was it smugness, or triumph maybe? A horrible mix of both, Marla decided, burning up with hatred.

She murdered Bluey. She’s a horrible manipulative little cowbag, and she murdered my dog.What the fuck was Gabe thinking?And did he not think it was unethical to wine and dine his receptionist? He ought to watch his back. Melanie was the sort of woman who would cry sexual assault the minute he stepped out of line. Marla sniffed and tried to concentrate on the menu, although the idea of food was beginning to make her queasy.

Meanwhile, realising that she’d lost her audience, Cecilia turned to see who Jonny and Emily were craning their necks to get a look at.

‘Who are they, honey?’

She elbowed Marla and nodded over at Gabe and Melanie. Marla feigned ignorance.

‘Er … I’m not sure.’ She glanced pointedly at her mother’s menu. ‘Have you decided? I think I’m going to have the salmon.’

Cecilia wasn’t fooled. ‘Marla, whoare they?’ she hissed. ‘Ooh, they’re coming over. Introduce me.’

Marla sank lower in her chair and chanced a look at Rupert, whose thunderous expression confirmed that he had also clocked Melanie hauling Gabe across the restaurant.

Jonny leapt to his feet – ever the genial host, despite the fact that it wasn’t even his party. The gentle way that Gabe had handled Bluey’s death had left Jonny with a newfound respect for Marla’s adversary. He reached out and shook Gabe’s hand. ‘Gabe.’

Marla was at least heartened by the way he dismissed Melanie with a curt nod.

Cecilia was out of her seat and bobbing like an excited child as she waited to be introduced.

Gabe glanced around the table like a watchful lion sizing up the enemy. His gaze came to rest on Marla just as her mother delivered a sharp kick to her shins to make her stand up.

‘Gabe. This is a surprise.’ She placed her menu down slowly and stood begrudgingly next to her mother. ‘This is my mother, Cecilia.’

Her ingrained good manners demanded that she make introductions at the very least.

‘Mom, this is Gabriel Ryan. He runs the funeral parlour. You know, the oneright next doorto the chapel.’

She shot her mother a warning look and Cecilia frowned for a second. She’d heard enough about the High Street battle to be aware that Gabe and Marla were not the best of friends.

Please don’t say anything ridiculous, Mom. Just say hi and let them return to their table.

‘Oooh. I’ve heard a lot about you, and all bad, you naughty young man!’ Cecilia’s eyes danced as they always did in the presence of an attractive man. Marla should have known better than to hope family loyalty would trump good looks.

‘Come on over here and let me fraternise with the enemy!’ Cecilia’s laughter tinkled as she threw out her arms to beckon him closer.

Naughty young man? Fraternise with the enemy?Marla was instantly transported back twenty years to schoolyard fights. Her mother had never fought her corner then either, especially if the kid in question had a good-looking dad. But Marla was all grown up these days, and she was going to kill her mother for this. She’d let Brynn stuff her too, for good measure.

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