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and pulled me upright then went effortlessly through the revolving door.

      I stared after him, my heart hammering in my chest. My mouth had gone dry and I had to remind myself to keep breathing.

      After I composed myself, I followed him.

      The wedding was beautiful and simple; it was the complete opposite of what I’d expected. The bride’s dress was elegant and classic: a white A-line gown with a sweetheart neckline and a layer of tulle on the skirt. The bridal party came down the aisle as a jazz singer gently crooned At Last by Etta James. Giselle and Aaron had written their own vows and, rather than being cheesy and over-sentimental, they were well thought out and sweet. Despite my hatred for weddings, I found myself dabbing my eyes in places. Rather than being gaudy and extravagant, it was a celebration of two people’s love for one another.

      Max, Nate and I sat at the back; Nate snapped away happily and chatted to me while I scribbled down notes about the ceremony and Max watched. When I briefly introduced them, they talked for a minute before silence fell. As the happy couple exchanged rings, Nate took a final photo then slung his arm loosely around my shoulders.

      ‘Ready to go to the reception then?’ he asked with a jovial smile.

      Max spun round and looked at us with a quizzical frown on his face. I couldn’t tell if it was what Nate had said that bothered him or the fact he had his arm round me after knowing me for all of five minutes. He really was like a protective older brother sometimes. As I became increasingly aware of how close Nate was to me, I realised I didn’t like him being in my personal space. It had been unoccupied for some time and I liked it that way. Even though Nate was drop-dead gorgeous, that didn’t guarantee him a free pass.

      ‘Yeah I suppose so. Are you coming as well, Max?’ I shrugged Nate off and went to stand beside him. His shoulders relaxed after that.

      ‘Certainly am, Munchkin! Lead the way!’ Placing a protective hand on my lower back, Max guided me into the crowd making their way to the reception.

      Rather than opting for a sit-down meal, Giselle and Aaron had gone for a luxurious buffet, lovingly prepared by the amazing catering team they’d hired. Plates of vegetable samosas, quiches, mini cheeseburgers and tapas dishes were mixed with profiterole towers and trays of sweet pastries. The whole spread looked delightful.

      As everyone pored over the buffet table, I decided to seek out the bride and groom to do the interview before the speeches started. I saw them lingering at the back of the room, drinking champagne and looking blissfully happy. I shook off any lingering nerves and approached them. Nate followed close behind, camera at the ready.

      ‘Hi there, my name’s Ava Clements. I’m the wedding reporter from Sleek magazine. What an amazing ceremony; I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house!’

      ‘Thanks, it was our dream day – wasn’t it Mr Henderson?’

      Her voice had a soft Liverpudlian lilt, her husband’s name rolling effortlessly off her tongue. She stared at her new husband and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

      ‘Certainly was, Mrs Henderson,’ he replied.

      ‘Would you like to do the interview now or after the speeches?’ I asked. ‘The photographer’s here too, so we could get the photos out of the way as well. He’ll probably want one of you cutting the cake…’

      I stopped as I saw Giselle’s face contort into a furious scowl.

      ‘Wait a second, what magazine did you say you were from?’

      ‘Sleek,’ I replied. ‘I-Is there a problem?’

      ‘You bet there’s a bloody problem, love! We’ve signed an exclusive deal with Mirage magazine; your lot aren’t supposed to be anywhere near this wedding!’

      My heart sank and a cold sweat washed over me. It was every reporter’s worst nightmare to turn up at an event or function to hear another magazine had the exclusive.

      ‘A-are you sure?’ I stammered. ‘My editor definitely said we had the interview and photo rights…’

      ‘I think I’d remember which magazine I signed a £500,000 deal with, don’t you?!’

      Then it dawned on me: Miranda had set me up. She’d sent me to this wedding knowing full well we couldn’t print anything about it. To confirm my suspicions, I opened up my emails and found one from Sphere Media, the couple’s PR representatives, wondering why on earth I was asking about doing an interview with Giselle and Aaron when Mirage had the exclusive. I hadn’t had time to check before; I’d been too busy doing my Cinderella routine.

      ‘I’m so sorry; I’ve completely wasted your time.’

      I walked away from them and made for the door. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life; I just wanted to get home and lose myself in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.

      ‘Hey, where are you off to?’ Max’s voice drifted to me from the buffet table.

      I turned and saw him standing with his arm round Amira’s waist. She looked resplendent in a primrose-coloured satin dress that complemented her caramel skin. Perfect, I thought, just perfect. Amira turning up put the tin lid on an awful evening.

      ‘It’s all gone wrong,’ I groaned. ‘I’m not even supposed to be here; Mirage have got the interview rights, not Sleek!’

      Max’s nose wrinkled. ‘Surely Miranda would’ve… Ah.’

      ‘Yeah, she’s set me up to look a complete idiot.’ I turned to Amira, hoping she’d at least be friendly while Max was around. ‘Hi Amira, when did you get here?’

      She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and tightened her grip on his waist. ‘A few minutes ago, my modelling shoot finished early. My headshots were so good my agent thinks he could land me a spot on the new Burberry campaign.’

      That meant nothing to me, but I could tell I was supposed to be impressed. I raised my eyebrows and smiled insincerely.

      ‘Are you heading off home now?’ Max asked. ‘I can call you a cab or you could get a lift back with us.’

      ‘No need, my friend.’ Nate appeared by my side, grinning widely. ‘I’ve had a word with the happy couple and they’re happy for us to interview them. In fact they insist on it.’

      Max’s face fell and his jaw tightened. His dislike for Nate was written all over his face.

      ‘Oh yeah and how did you swing that?’ A bitter note ran through his voice, like he resented his very presence in the room.

      Nate tapped the side of his nose and winked at him, seemingly unaware of how much trouble he was causing.

      ‘It was pretty hard work, let’s just say! Not only did I have to break out the old charm and persuasion, I had to get Paddy on the phone to authorise a new deal for exclusivity on the photos and story. He wasn’t too chuffed to find out Mirage had it first and told me to do whatever I had to do to secure the deal. I might’ve brought Mirage’s questionable information gathering techniques to their attention: phone hacking, raking in people’s bins and the like.’

      My eyes widened. ‘But that’s not true!’

      ‘What they don’t know can’t hurt them. Who’s this lovely creature?’ His eyes widened with pleasure as they met Amira’s. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Nate Walton.’

      He bent low and picked up Amira’s slender, manicured hand. After holding her gaze just a fraction too long, he gently kissed her hand then released it. She giggled coquettishly and fluttered her eyelashes.

      ‘Amira Sharma,’ she replied with a cat-like grin.

      I heard Max’s knuckles crack ominously. He looked absolutely furious. I put my hand on his arm and his features immediately softened. I recognised the anger boiling up inside him; I’d seen it before when men approached Amira

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