Just Say Yes, page 20
Slamming back the cover, I grabbed my phone, found a true crime podcast, switched it on and eventually drifted off to sleep.
29
‘He’s yummy!’ Izzy whispered, taking advantage of the fact that Rob had just started chatting to Lorcan about rugby and found a willing listener. ‘Is he single? And if so, why aren’t you seeing him?’ Her eyes sparkled with mischief and delight as we pretended to be looking through some new stock.
‘Yes, he is. And because he’s a member of the wedding party. Also, a lot of the time we drive each other bananas.’
Izzy waved her hand. ‘That’s nothing. Remember how Rob and I got together and we’re still happy as anything.’
‘Yes, but it’s not the same.’
‘Why not?’
‘It… just isn’t.’
‘Oh. So long as you have a good, solid reason,’ she replied, grinning, and I shook my head, unable to stop myself being swept up in her giggles.
‘Have you seen everything you need to here?’ Izzy asked.
‘Yes, that’s all great, thanks for staying on a bit later. Peyton’s dress is absolutely beautiful. I mean, you made it so it would be, but seeing it in real life is just so much better. She’s going to look amazing. You’re so talented.’
‘Thanks, hon. Peyton had some great ideas, which was helpful.’
‘She’s on this mad diet from her nutritionist at the moment. Did she mention it?’
‘Yeah,’ Izzy said, rolling her eyes a little. ‘I told her she already looks perfect and I can make alterations if needs be.’
‘She wouldn’t even risk trying any cake. Fair enough, the baker turned out to be in Ireland but still. Lorcan and I ended up having to suffer the calories.’
Izzy looked at me. ‘You and Lorcan went to Ireland… together.’
‘Not like that,’ I whispered, hastily, widening my eyes in warning.
She shot him a look. ‘Shame.’
‘You ready, Iz?’ Rob called from across the studio.
‘Yep, just let me get my bag,’ she said, tapping across the wooden floor in her adored Louboutins. Izzy and I shared an appreciation for beautiful shoes, which had also helped our friendship, although not necessarily our bank balances.
‘Got it,’ she said, hefting a massive tote onto her shoulder, which Rob immediately took from her and slung up onto his own. ‘Bloody hell, have you got a sewing machine in here?’
‘Stop whingeing,’ she said, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘And thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he returned, looking at her just as adoringly as when they had married, as though she were the only person in the room. ‘I managed to get the restaurant to do a table for four rather than three, now that Lorcan’s coming.’
‘Oh, fab!’ Izzy grinned at him before swinging her gaze to me.
Lorcan’s coming?
‘I did try to say no,’ he explained as we drove back towards my cottage later. ‘I knew you’d be less than thrilled if I came.’
‘It wasn’t that. I mean, that’s not why I didn’t invite you.’ My words were tumbling out faster than my brain could organise them. ‘Izzy suggested dinner before I knew you were coming and then I thought if I asked if you wanted to come to dinner, you might think it was unprofessional of me, or that I was coming on to you, either of which would be awkward. And frankly, I thought the last place you’d want to be sat this evening was at dinner with me again, after having had to chauffeur me around the entire weekend, so I didn’t want to make you feel awkward by having to find a polite way to say no thanks.’
‘Truth?’
I nibbled my nail. ‘OK?’
‘It was kind of awkward when Rob mentioned it was a shame I wasn’t coming to dinner. He was already off dialling the restaurant before I could say anything.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I guess I just felt uncomfortable that, as you said, my company was forced on you once again and this time with your friends. They’re really good people, by the way. I like them.’
‘They are. Really lovely. He adores her so much. Well, obviously she does him but when he looks at her…’
‘Yep. He’d do anything for her. That’s pretty obvious.’
‘Yes. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier. I suppose part of me didn’t want Izzy and Rob thinking anything was going on.’
‘Wow, I’m that bad.’ It was a statement rather than a question, which he spoke with a chuckle.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just…’
Lorcan turned his head as we waited at a red light.
‘Just?’
A beep from behind us caused Lorcan to glance in the rear-view mirror, saving me momentarily from answering. Silence drifted down like a blanket over the interior of the car.
‘I’m waiting for the “it’s not you, it’s me”,’ he said, glancing briefly across. In the low-lit intimacy of the car’s luxurious interior I could hear the smile in his voice.
‘Oh, no. It’s definitely you.’
His laughter wrapped itself around me and I felt myself relax into the soft leather of the car seat as we continued in the darkness.
The leaves on the village green’s trees burned orange and gold before falling, leaving the bare branches to fare against the winter chill. I’d finally seen the sense in Tom’s suggestion of fixing my roof before the winter set in and scraped together a deposit for him to satisfy my reservations. I’d been pleased to see him out a couple of times walking with a petite blonde woman, his arm wrapped around her waist, both of them bundled up against the weather.
‘Looks like you hesitated too long with old Tom,’ Lorcan had teased as he’d entered my cottage one frosty morning, both of us waving to the couple as he came in.
‘They look sweet together,’ I’d replied, pleased to see that Tom had found someone. He was a good man and deserved his affections returned.
‘They do that,’ Lorcan had replied, before heading through to my kitchen to see if Betty had delivered any more goodies recently. Between Lorcan’s unexpectedly regular company, and a rapidly filling work diary, the weeks passed quickly until the big day was almost upon us.
‘Oh my God! I can’t believe it’s nearly here!’ Peyton squealed in a tone so high I was sure several local dogs were currently looking around with confused expressions.
‘Want to take it down a notch, there, Pey?’ Lorcan asked as Bod looked up, slightly stunned.
‘Oh! Oh, yes, sorry, Bod, sweetie,’ she said, petting the little dog and making baby noises at him, telling him how cute he was, which Bod was making the most of.
‘She’s allowed to be excited about her wedding day, Lorcan,’ I pointed out as we sat in my garden studio and ran through the list for the final time, double and triple-checking.
‘I agree. But she’s not allowed to deafen my dog.’
‘He wouldn’t be deafened if you hadn’t brought him,’ Patrick pointed out.
‘He’s officially part of the wedding planning team. See?’ Lorcan held the little dog up to show that he was currently sporting a deep-wine-coloured tee shirt that said ‘wedding crew’ to coordinate with the wedding colours. Over dinner, Izzy had found out about Bod and within days had whizzed up a little tee shirt for him and sent it over. To be honest, when I’d presented it to Lorcan, I’d expected a sniff of derision, but his reaction had been entirely the opposite and he’d immediately sent Izzy flowers – from Bod – as a thank you and sent Rob a photo of the dog modelling his wife’s latest creation, knowing he'd show Izzy. The two men had bonded over rugby during our dinner out and were now firm friends.
Having known him for a while now, I’d thought I’d have had Lorcan O’Malley all figured out, but he continued to surprise me. Although there was still one subject we butted heads on and that was the whole wedding/marriage thing. There seemed no changing his mind on that and as much as I found him attractive – even if it hadn’t been for the whole ‘no mixing business with pleasure’ thing – that was a deal breaker. Stealing a glance at his profile, the hard biceps peeking from the tee shirt he wore, perhaps that was just as well. I already knew from his friends Lorcan was a heartbreaker. But I hadn’t forgotten about the strange exchange with the woman who’d entered the pub just as we were leaving. There was definitely history there. He’d not spoken about it, despite the fact we’d been spending more and more time together. He’d been nothing but helpful and determined to help his friends have the wedding of their dreams and, despite our initial ability to rub each other up the wrong way, we seemed to have adjusted. Not that he didn’t still give me a hard time about the fact I planned everything, but I was better at ignoring his digs now or providing pithy comebacks if I was feeling in the mood.
‘So, your flights are all booked?’ Peyton asked me for the fourth time.
‘Babe, she’s already confirmed that,’ Patrick said, taking her hand and coaxing her to sit down. ‘Stop worrying.’
‘I’m not worried,’ she said. ‘I know Maddie has everything totally under control.’
‘The only person I haven’t met yet is the photographer,’ I pointed out. ‘Ordinarily I’d have liked to have gone over things with them by now. I’ve made a few attempts at getting in touch with him, but he’s not called me back. Would you mind speaking to him and asking him to ring me so that we can set up a meeting? I’d really like a chat with him and to do a walk-through at the venue before the day itself so that I know exactly what the plan is.’
To be honest, the lack of communication and cooperation from the photographer was the one thing about this wedding that had me nervous. I didn’t really do nerves. I couldn’t afford to in my job. I was there to smooth things over for everyone else, which I was able to do because I knew exactly what and when everything was happening. Usually. But I’d never worked with this photographer. I wasn’t sure he was even a professional photographer, which was fine. I’d seen amazing moments captured in beautiful shots by amateurs over the years, but I did need communication from him. Ordinarily I’d have spoken to Peyton about considering having a back-up – although finding one at this late notice would be a challenge, but I would manage. The situation, however, was proving more tricky as Peyton was adamant about using this guy. Apparently she’d known him since college and thought it would be lovely to have a photographer she knew and trusted and felt she’d be more relaxed for the photos that way. All that was great – but I had my reservations.
‘You’re worried about the photographer, aren’t you?’ Lorcan said as I turned back from waving the bride and groom-to-be off.
‘Stop reading my mind. You know it unnerves me.’
He shrugged. ‘I’d say sorry but then I’d be lying. It amuses me.’
‘Such a child,’ I said, moving him out of the way to get to my filing cabinet. ‘But yes, I am. I’ve normally got all this locked down by now but I haven’t even been able to speak to the man yet.’
‘I’m sure Peyton will get onto it now.’
‘I’ve mentioned it to her a few times already and he’s still not made contact. It’s odd, not to mention unprofessional.’
‘Maybe he’s a bit of a prima donna and thinks – don’t take this the wrong way – that he doesn’t need a wedding planner poking her nose into his “art”.’ He did the actions. ‘Remember this is just a theory and not what I think,’ he said, eyeing the letter opener glinting under the lamplight on my desk. ‘Just to be clear.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to stab you,’ I said, following his eye line. ‘I don’t have time to clear up the blood.’
‘Right. I’ll just keep an eye on any of my drinks tasting a little funny, then.’
‘Oh, sweet boy. You don’t really think I’d use anything you could actually taste, do you? Bless you. So naïve,’ I said, giving a shake of my head. Lorcan’s deep chuckle made me smile as I tidied up my desk, making sure everything was in place to start again tomorrow morning. Peyton’s wedding was going to take all my time once I was in Ireland – ordinarily I’d only go for a day, perhaps two for big weddings, but Peyton had a week-long hen night booked in New York, meaning she wouldn’t be getting to Ireland until shortly before the wedding. That meant it was up to me to make sure everything was perfect. Now that Calum had found out there were some well-known faces going to be at the wedding, he’d had a flutter of nerves, which Lorcan had calmed by saying I’d be there several days prior to go through everything with him.
‘Hungry?’ the deep lilting voice broke into my thoughts.
I glanced up at the dove-grey wall clock, highlighted against the white walls of the studio.
‘Crikey, is that the time?’ Lorcan had fed Bod some time ago but I’d been on a call and hadn’t really taken note of the hour. The dog was happily snuggled up in his bed now between the sofa and the desk, snoozing away, one ear flopped over the edge of the fabric. ‘You must be starving. Why didn’t you say something ages ago? You don’t have to stay anyway, you know. Half of this stuff is for other clients and if anything comes up with our wedding, I can always call you.’
Lorcan’s eyes were fixed on mine and I frowned for a second before my brain hit ‘replay’.
30
‘Not our wedding, obviously! I didn’t mean…’ I flapped a hand that roughly encompassed the two of us. ‘I just meant… you know, the one we’re… Patrick’s wedding.’
Lorcan was still looking at me.
‘What?’
‘I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you get flustered.’
‘I wasn’t flustered. I’m not flustered. Why on earth would I be?’ I said, a trickle of laughter following the words that, even to my ears, sounded totally awkward and fake.
‘You know you’re not making it better, right?’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I replied, hoping to God that my foundation was strong enough to cover the blush I knew was lighting up my cheeks right now. ‘So, anyway. I’m sure you’re hungry so you should probably leave and get yourself some dinner.’
‘And what are you going to do?’
‘I have a bit more to do here and then I have something in the fridge.’
‘Don’t tell me, you have a Monday to Sunday pile of tubs that you prepared in advance.’ The deep, annoyingly sensuous laugh filled the small, low-lit studio.
I remained silent and Lorcan’s laugh suddenly died away. ‘Oh, God, you do, don’t you?’
‘As I said,’ concentrating on a task in front of me without really taking it in, ‘you ought to go and get yourself some food before it gets too much later and you go past it.’
‘I rarely go past it.’
‘Even so.’
I turned in my chair to file something in the low cabinet behind me and when I turned back, Lorcan was standing in front of the desk. My backside practically left the chair. ‘Jesus!’ I said, my hand flying to my chest. ‘Your dog makes more noise moving than you. You scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry.’ He screwed up his face in a grimace.
‘It’s fine. We just need to fit you with a bell or something. Are you off, then?’
‘Sorry,’ he repeated.
‘I said—’
‘No, I mean I’m sorry about what I said about the meal-organisation thing. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s actually a good idea, especially when you’re working long days.’
I tilted my head back to meet his eyes, tucking an errant curl behind my ear as I did so. ‘Lorcan, it’s fine. I know you and I work and think completely differently and that’s OK. You feel I over-plan and schedule my life too much and that’s your prerogative. I do what works for me and you do what works for you. It doesn’t really bother me what other people think.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yep.’
‘So if you’re so unaffected by other people’s opinions, why did you go the same shade as those roses?’ he asked, pointing to the scarlet arrangement I’d set in a crystal vase on my desk. ‘Secret admirer?’
Clearly, I needed to add ‘find a better foundation’ to my to-do list for tomorrow.
‘I did not. It’s just the light in here and your propensity to try and wind me up, which I’m afraid to say you’ve failed to do. And no, they’re not. Fiadh sent them as a thank you for using them for the wedding.’
Lorcan did that sexy half-smile, clearly remaining unconvinced. ‘If you say so.’
‘Think whatever you like,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders and putting a hand up to rub my neck as the action alerted me to a tightness in my left shoulder.
‘Come on,’ Lorcan said. ‘Give it a rest now. You’re tired and hungry and you’ve been up since five-thirty this morning.’
‘How do you know what time I got up?’
He pointed to the calendar on my wall, a copy of the one on my fridge.
‘You’re far too nosy for your own good, you know that, don’t you?’
‘I’ve had worse said about me. So? Dinner?’
‘Yes. Go, go,’ I said, shooing him out as I returned to my task.
‘I meant together,’ he said, moving around behind me, his hand creeping towards the power button on my computer.
‘Touch that before I’ve saved my document and that letter opener is coming your way, sod the blood.’
Lorcan’s hand shot back into his pocket but soft laughter filled my ears and the faint scent of aftershave wrapped itself around my senses. There was never enough to overpower, but just enough to make you want to get closer and—
