Free The Vintage Teacup Club by Vanessa Greene

a rocking horse. Two dark red velvet sofas faced each other in the far corner next to the French windows, and Maggie saw Jack and another guy with dark hair – presumably his friend, the landscape gardener – sitting together on one. Maggiewalked with Lucy and took a seat beside her on the other sofa. ‘Maggie, this is Owen, Owen, Maggie.’ Owen looked like he was in his late twenties. He was lounging back in a scruffy checked shirt and khaki combats as if he had no need to make an effort even at a manor house. When Maggie shook his hand, his dark eyes met hers, but he didn’t smile. His gaze was so steady that it unsettled her. Looking away, she noticed that Lucy’s father, Jeremy Mackintosh, was out on the terrace, pacing up and down and talking on his phone.
    ‘Owen’s put together some really good designs here,’ Lucy began, pointing to some papers on the coffee table. ‘He’s planned out where to put the mushrooms and which way the guests will walk.’
    Maggie opened her satchel and produced her linen notebook and sketches. ‘Ah, that sounds interesting …’ she said, not looking over. ‘Lucy, there’s something I wanted to show you both too.’
    Maggie put her designs on the other half of the table and opened out her sketchbook. She ensured she had all of Lucy and Jack’s attention before she spoke. She glanced at Owen too, but got the sense he couldn’t care less about what she had to say. It didn’t help when his gaze drifted away from her designs towards the garden, where Lucy’s dad was standing. Maggie pointed at her first drawing. ‘I thought we could have theguests walking from this main door –’ she pointed to the drawing room door, ‘down the steps to hit the display like—’
    ‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Lucy said. ‘I much prefer what Owen’s done here, with the lakeside rose display and the candlelit area by the herb garden, don’t you Jack?’
    Jack nodded, then caught Maggie’s eye and stopped.
    ‘I like them both, to be honest, Luce. They’re just different.’
    Maggie carried on, regardless. ‘But you see what I’ve done here with the wicker hula hoops will make the display a really interactive—’
    ‘Wicker hula hoops?’ Owen said, laughing as he turned back to the table and looking at Maggie straight on, his dark eyes resting on hers again. ‘Really?’
    OK, perhaps that had been a step too far, Maggie reflected, but was there any need to be rude?
    ‘Didn’t you say I’m doing the garden and she’s handling the flowers, Jack?’ Owen continued. ‘I thought that was what we agreed?’
    Maggie seethed, a flush of frustration and fury coming to her cheeks. She glared at him in disbelief.
    ‘Actually we did say that, didn’t we Maggie?’ Lucy said.
    OK, so they had, but after their first meeting she’d realised she was more than capable of doing some of the designing herself. She shouldn’t have been so daunted by it. Now Owen was acting as if she was treading on his toes, when it was just as much her event to organise. Shewanted the wedding to fit with the Bluebelle brand, and if Owen started to take over too much she knew she could risk compromising that.
    ‘Yes, we did, but I thought you’d still like to see …’ Maggie started.
    She looked from her drawings over to Owen’s designs, and was irritated to see that they did look quite carefully thought through. But he was clearly far younger than her, what did he know about planning events of this scale? He drove a pick-up truck, for God’s sake! Maggie was surely far better suited to working on a wedding of this kind, with this calibre of guest.
    ‘Look. No offence, but weddings really aren’t my thing, as you two know.’ Owen looked from Jack to Lucy. ‘There’s nothing sustainable about one big, blowout day of indulgence, even in the name of love. But like I said, I’m willing to do this for you guys as a favour.’
    Jack was starting to look a little uncomfortable now, shuffling in his seat.
    ‘But