The Runaway Bridesmaid. Daisy James

you did it on purpose to spoil her big celebration; that you are jealous she’s found her soul mate and you haven’t and couldn’t bear to watch.’

      ‘Oh for God’s sake, that’s just typical of Freya. Has she conveniently forgotten that since Mum died she’s been my number one priority! I’ve done everything for her! Everything revolves around her and her happiness! Everything! And if I’m ever lucky enough to have something she doesn’t, she will stop at nothing until she takes it from me!’

      ‘I’m so sorry Rosie. How are you feeling?’

      ‘How should I be feeling? I go in search of the blushing bride so that I can deliver her to her handsome, successful, billionaire bridegroom, and where do I find her? In the linen cupboard in a compromising position with my boyfriend –- the faithless scumbag that is Giles Phillips.’

      ‘Oh, Rosie, I’m so sorry you had to find out about him like that.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well, I’m not sure if this is the right time to tell you this, but you already know Giles has a reputation for dating a long string of women yet eschewing commitment like it’s the bubonic plague. I’m so sorry, Rosie, but I just found out after your call that Giles is in a relationship with CEO’s daughter! Has been for the last six months, but she’s been out of the country on an internship at a bank in Paris for the last three. She’s due back next week and George Harlow is apoplectic.’

      Rosie’s knees wobbled, her chest heaved with each ragged breath and her eyes smarted from the shock. She crumpled onto her aunt’s chintz-covered sofa and waited until the waves of pain subsided. The CEO’s daughter? How could he treat her with such flippant contempt? A stop-gap until his girlfriend returned from her European secondment. It wasn’t so much that she’s scraped the bottom of the barrel with her choice of boyfriend but that she’d chiselled through to woodworm below!

      She fiddled with the pearl earring at her lobe as she forced herself to replay the distressing closet scene in her mind’s eye.

      ‘I suppose it wasn’t as if Freya was doing this to me on purpose…’ she said to reassure herself, rather than the spluttering, indignant Lauren.

      ‘No, Rosie, stop this. Listen to yourself. Marshalling your arguments like a criminal defence lawyer, making excuses for her again. She knew Giles was your date. And Giles knew she was your sister, about to get married! They deserve each other – both of them are cheating idiots!’

      Before Lauren had met Brett, and long before Rosie had fallen into her relationship with Giles, they had spent many an alcohol-infused night holed up in her apartment concocting a list of criteria for their prospective Mr Rights. Faithfulness and loyalty were the top essential attributes on both girls’ lists, qualities that brooked no amendment. But it seemed those characteristics were in short supply and they’d had to settle for the indulgence of some girly TLC – that trio of oestrogen solace – tea, Louboutins and chocolate.

      ‘Giles is a loser! Not satisfied with cheating on his girlfriend, he pursues anything that moves.’ Lauren, in her outrage, was unaware of the hurtful insinuation her comment held. ‘What’s up with men like that?’

      ‘Well, Toby did have a number of theories…’

      ‘I’m so sorry, Rosie, but you deserve better than Giles’ leftovers.’ Lauren’s hostility towards their boss glided across miles down the phone line. ‘He’s a player and a cheat who squeezes us all until the pips squeak. Giles is a scumbag, Rosie.’