Woman Waits To Ruin Your Wedding

By Mark Edwards

Isn’t she lovely? Yes she is. University Lecturer, Britt Vancroft is about to receive the surprise of her life when her boyfriend, Lieutenant Karl Hues plans a secret wedding engagement party for her at the most luxurious hotel in Lake Madison, where he will propose to her. Karl tells her the hotel trip is a weekend get-away for only the three of them – Him, her and their little girl, Khrisi. However, upon entering the posh dinner room Britt is not only surprised by the glimmer and ambiance but also by the greeting, the cheering-on and the singing from the guests inside. These are people she actually knows – all of them, all good friends, except for this one woman whom only she seems to notice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Edwards
• Release date: Apr 25, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386528739

Mark Edwards

Mark Edwards and Louise Voss met after Louise saw Mark on a TV documentary about aspiring writers, and a writing partnership was born. Their first two thrillers, Killing Cupid and Catch Your Death, were huge hits when the pair self-published them online, becoming the first UK indie authors to reach No. 1 in both the Amazon Kindle and Amazon Fiction charts.

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She loved him first.  He may still have feelings lingering around, for her, but he's got to move on?  Will he be allowed to?  Warning, she's crazy!

This is purely the work of fiction.  The names of characters,  places, events and storyline  exist only in the author's imagination.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons alive or not, is a coincidence. 

This publication is created only for entertainment.

All Rights Reserved. Reproduction, duplication or copying of any part of this publication in any form or by whatever means is strictly prohibited unless consent is given by the author. The images, texts and illustrations remain the intellectual property of the author.

1

Kate's Flowers and More,

Southern Portland, Ore.

Her

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Most people would say that I'm the type of woman whose parents would never be proud of her.  'I can't see why on earth a young girl like you, 27, is still driving a 1982 hatchback.  It's 2016, Alice.  You need to find a man.  You still have nice looks, boobs and you’re a blonde,' my co-worker, Betty would jeer.  She's like my bestie even though she has no reservations in irritating my last nerve – if she would only be fair about our shifts at the nightclub.  She disappears with these blokes, mostly strangers, even though she knows she's due for work the next day...night.  Then I'm the one who doubles for the shift until she remembers that she's got bills to pay.

'Lady, they're going to fish your lifeless body from a lake one of these days if you don't stop honeymooning with men you don't know,' I would warn when I see her return a day or two after.  I'm always happy as heck to see Betty when she returns from wherever or whoever, not because I'm going to be relieved of my night-shift job at the bar but because I care for her, like a little sister – yes, she's older than me, about a year or two.  I care because we've both been through it – the same crap; we just deal with it differently.

Most people would say that I'm one of the world's coldest moms to have my kid sleeping in the back of a car while I'm at the night club.  Well, for those who don't know, the night club is work and my jalopy is home.  And you all need to mind your own business.  You don't dare touch my kid, or you'll see the other side of me.  I make sure that she does her homework and help her halfway through it, half the time, before I snooze over my driver's seat.  I still give her a hug though, keeping her little chest warm.

And what if I wrestle to get to the front of the line on Thursdays for food stamps?  I'm providing for my kid, aren't I.  Some people would call it worthless but ‘Single Parenting’ – this is what I call it.  I'm doing my best, depriving myself of everything so that she can have food, clothes, shelter and a birthday party.  As a matter of fact, this is why I am here at Kate's Flowers.  This should have been a surprise for Kiki but there's no one to leave her with around here.  It's her 8th Birthday. I've been wanting to give her a birthday party since she was 4.  Nothing's going to stop me now, nothing.

'Ma, these are nice.'

'Don't touch anything, Kiki. You don't want to put mommy in trouble now, do you?' I swiftly pull her hand away from the ceramic vase, which had the lilac cone flowers popping from it.

'But Mommy...'

'Child, you better come with me!' I scold. I never meant to be this rough with her.  My heart cries at the innocence of her face.  Tears fill me as I look at her golden curly hair, unkempt and frizzy, but I can't allow her to break that expensive vase.  We would never eat for weeks.  I wish honestly as heck that I could do better. They say college will take you out of poverty but my little one's got to eat. I've dropped out of college twice.  Doing this on my own sucks.

'I hope you don't be ungrateful to your momma when you become older, girl,' I whisper as we move towards the customer service rep.  She continues her chat on the company's phone. 

I guess I'll continue looking around until she gets off the phone.  Probably we could look in isle number 8, I say to myself.  'Come with me, Kiki.  Let's look at these; they're pretty and cheap too.'

'...And Sir, you said you wanted wheatgrass,' I hear the rep asking the person on the other end of the line.

'You'd prefer terra cotta trays or you'd like galvanized buckets instead, Sir?'

'Great choice for engagement; we could add some daisies, assorted,' the rep continues. 

Not that it's any of my business and I couldn't care the heck to whom she's speaking to on the phone but she's kind of loud.  And with that smile that spills off her cheekbones you'd think that a prince charming or something of the sort is on the other end of the line.

'...Ah, yes, Sir, we could have everything ready for this weekend...Saturday.'

She switches the handset from her right ear to her left ear and then picks up a 'Post it' notepad.  'So, the name for delivery is Karl...'

She giggles once more while doodling the name on her notepad.  I sure wish I enjoyed my job as she does.

'Let's go, Pebbles,' I say to my little girl pulling her towards the exit of the flower store.  It seems as if we are not half as important as the caller on the line.  This type of